Mimic poemm

By: E.E Cummings

Here’s a little mouse) and
What does he think about, I
Wonder as over this
Floor(quietly with

Bright eyes) drifts( nobody
Can tell because
Nobody knows, or why
Jerks Here &, here,
Gr(oo)ving the room’s Silence) this like
A littlest
Poem a
(with wee ears and see>

tail frisks)
(gonE)
“mouse”,
we are not the same you and

I, since here’s a little he
Or is
Is It
? (or was something we saw in the mirror)?

Therefore we’ll kiss; for maybe
What was Disappeared
Into ourselves
Who (look). ,startled






By Kelsey Becraft modeled after E.E Cummings


Theres a minut bug) again
What crosses her mind, I
Think as I stray over
tile( softly with

effulgent eyes) stray ( no person
would know because
no person experiences, or asks
shoves Here &, there,
cu(tt)ing the atomospheres Silence) this like
a tiny
poem a
(gathered bitty eyes and see?

Attenaes)
(absenT)
“bug”,
not a single thing in common we have
present is a little she
or not
not Not
? ( perhaps it was a shadow in glass he saw)?

And so we’ll snog; possibly
What was gone
Absorbed into our skin
Whom (gaze). ,surprised

A Sad Child

A Sad Child By Margaret Atwood

You're sad because you're sad.
It's psychic. It's the age. It's chemical.
Go see a shrink or take a pill,
or hug your sadness like an eyeless doll
you need to sleep.
Well, all children are sad but some get over it.
Count your blessings. Better than that,
buy a hat. Buy a coat or pet.
Take up dancing to forget.
Forget what?

Your sadness, your shadow,
whatever it was that was done to you
the day of the lawn party
when you came inside flushed with the sun,
your mouth sulky with sugar,
in your new dress with the ribbon
and the ice-cream smear
and said to yourself in the bathroom,
I am not the favorite child.

My darling, when it comes
right down to it
and the light fails and the fog rolls in
and you're trapped in your overturned body
under a blanket or burning car,
and the red flame is seeping out of you
and igniting the tarmac beside your head
or else the floor, or else the pillow,
none of us is;
or else we all are.


Smart allic is a prominant voice within. She acts like its no big deal that the child is sad. " Go see a shrink or take a pill, or hug your sadness like an eyeless doll you need to sleep. " she captures the feeling of a young child "hugging" the sadness like a doll. As though its supposed to happen to every child, which maybe it does, yet maybe it doesn't have to. This poem doesn't just refer to a child, but the society as a whole. We think that buying things will make us happier. The voice changes to matter of factly. " when it comes right down to it..." The poem says towards the end "... and said to yourself in the bathroom, i am not the favorite child" all child feel this way somehow at some point in their life, and it carries on throught out life whether it be at work or in the family. We as people always want to be the favorite of someone. The poem then takes a turn of voice towards sympathy. Saying that either none of us are the favorite child or all of us are.

Performance Poem

A toothed caterpilar, equipped with a mohawk.
A lemon whale, with a hint of lime.
A bunny hiding behind a sly smile.
A pair of shy clam eyes.
A black mallard, outlined in sunset.
The swirled toungue of a chamelon,
Erupting from the mouth of an enormous fish.
Luscious flounder lips, flung about the canvas.
A triplet of alien eyes, protruding from a small intestine.
A suttle elephant, named Phinneus, graced with the symmetrical beauty I wish i had.
Flowers blossoming out of an orange creme sickle colored turtle shell.
A green long lost dinosaur at a loss for words.
If one word were to come out of your mouth, what would you say?
Hi or bye?
Stay or leave?
Love or hate?
I would love to say hi, and I wish you would stay.
Oh but thats so many more than one.
These colors are feelings.
This picture is a brain.
Surrounded by ruby red blood.
Filled with creativity, color and life.
Waiting.
just waiting.
To break free.


1.) The voice in the poem is very...descriptive, and weird. The things that are being described are very odd, and you wouldn't think about it.
2.) The mood is very humorous and silly, its not really meant to be serious at all.
3.) Uhmm... im thinking a lot of hand gestures, and perhaps some jumping around, but ya know, im not too sure.
4.) What frightens me is just me making a fool of myself, which usually i could care less about, but for some reason im really nervous for this.
5.) I believe that performing the poem enhancing the meaning because it gives the poem a mood, and if you're not sure about what its about the gestures could really help clarify. The voice can help to if you thought it was sad, but the reader reads the poem happy obviously that's what it is.

Swing Life Away- Rise Against.

Am I loud and clear, or am I breaking up?
Am I still your charm, or am I just bad luck?
Are we getting closer, or are we just getting more lost?

I'll show you mine, if you show me yours first.
Let's compare scars, I'll tell you whose is worse.
Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words.

We live on front porches and swing life away,
We get by just fine here on minimum wage.
If love is a labor I'll slave till the end,
I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand.

I've been here so long, I think that it's time to move.
The winter's so cold, summer's over too soon.
Let's pack our bags and settle down where palm trees grow.

I've got some friends, some that I hardly know.
But we've had some times, I wouldn't trade for the world.
We chase these days down with talks of the places that we will go.

We live on front porches and swing life away,
We get by just fine here on minimum wage
If love is a labor I'll slave till the end,
I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand....until you hold my hand.

I'll show you mine if you show me yours first.
Let's compare scars, I'll tell you whose is worse.
Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words.

We live on front porches and swing life away,
We get by just fine here on minimum wage.
If love is a labor I'll slave till the end,
I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand.

Swing life away.


I chose this song because I really like that it's mellow, and i've known this song for a really long time. I don't really know if it has a lot of figurative language, but i think it has some pretty good imagery " Live on front porches. Wont cross the street until you hold my hand. Lets compare scars. settle down where palm trees grow." I think that "love is a labor" is a metaphor. I just think its a simple song about how it doesn't matter how you live your life, or if you have money, but love is important above all the rest.

You are what you see.

A toothed caterpilar, equipped with a mohawk.

A lemon whale, with a hint of lime.

A bunny hiding behind a sly smile.

A pair of shy clam eyes.

A black mallard, outlined in sunset.

The swirled toungue of a chamelon,

Erupting from the mouth of an enormous fish.

Luscious flounder lips, flung about the canvas.

A triplet of alien eyes, protruding from a small intestine.

A suttle elephant, named Phinneus, graced with the symmetrical beauty I wish i had.

Flowers blossoming out of an orange creme sickle colored turtle shell.

A green long lost dinosaur at a loss for words.

If one word were to come out of your mouth, what would you say?

Hi or bye?

Stay or leave?

Love or hate?

I would love to say hi, and I wish you would stay.

Oh but thats so many more than one.

These colors are feelings.

This picture is a brain.

Surrounded by ruby red blood.

Filled with creativity, color and life.

Waiting.

just waiting.

To break free.

This Bruise Has Made My Skin Cold.

Left on my heart is a bruise.
Now you see me,im blue, cold.
Let the sun warm my chilled skin.
Bask in your ethereal glow.
oh i wish i could belong to you.
why do i do this, time and time again?

I hope i don't break again.
i don't know how i can stand these bruises.
im letting myself out by trusting you.
i'll try to pretend im not cold.
But all i really need is your glow.
forever grateful would be my skin.

Go into my organs, beneath my skin.
Though ive faded, you will find my real self again.
Polish me with love, i promise i'll glow.
You won't think im just some burdensome bruise.
I'll show you i have a warm side, the opposite of cold.
To keep me would be nice of you.

To understand me I must help you.
I may get under your skin,
But don't give me the shoulder of cold.
Or else i will turn on you again.
i'll leave you with a horrible bruise.
One that you can't cover up with your phenominal glow.

please share your glow.
I want to be a part of you.
we share the same purple bruise.
of course it will mend, our skin.
But just wait until it happens again.
Then it will be you who feels cold.

My feet are getting cold.
All i ever wanted, was just that glow.
Im sure the process will start again.
I plan to take this from you.
It will become buried in my skin.
Slowly fades my bruise...

If i get cold, it won't be because of you.
Look at your glow, its in my skin.
But time and time again it occurs, and all i'll be left with is the bruise.

Game Of Life-Players Win

Guys, you’re all the same.
At least that’s how it seems.
My luck with winners is slim to none.
Each player has their own game.

Of course I would fall for every one of their tactics.
Forcing myself to become damaged goods. Once again.

Leave me, toss me aside.
It’s as if you couldn’t give a damn.
Forlorn I am, oh I wish you cared.
Enough to give me hope, until next time you throw me away.

Placed on your leash is my heart.
Like all the others before me.
And with each violent yank you knock me to the ground.
You let the things I want to hear pour out of your mouth,
Engulfing me, serenading me.
Rejection. Is what I end up with.
Sorry I’m not what you expected, sorry I’m weirder than you thought.

We’re all players
In the game of life.
No one wins.

Mac and cheese.

My eyes are exposed to you.
what I see is everything i need.
your smile is enough to make my soul warm.
Your respect for me is incredible.
Your dimples are adorable.
I like you.
I spill my guts.
I trust you.
I let you in my mind.
You stroll around my brain,
akeing yourself at home with my memories.
If i could keep you, i would.
In a heart beat.
You're genuine, like me.
From your neon green hat, to your multi colored shoes.
You're the cheese to my macaroni.
I would hope that you will sing me a love song.
your voice like a symphony.
We sing to Dashboard Confessionals,
Each word matching in perfect harmony.
Help me get up.
I've fallen head over heels.
Let me slumber in your arms.
You're the world to my eyes.

I'm a lovely woman.
I'm an outgoing woman.
I'm a fish woman.
I'm a worried woman.
I'm a singing woman.
I'm an eyeshadow woman.
I'm a hairdying woman.
I'm a bug woman.
I'm a drug-free woman.
I'm a writing woman.
I'm a cuttlefish woman.
I'm a weird woman.
I'm an honest woman.
I'm a skinny jean wearing woman.
I'm an amoeba woman.
I'm a lyric woman.
I'm a broken woman.
I'm a zebra woman.
I'm a neon woman.
I'm a converse wearing woman.
I'm a pond loving woman.
I'm a peachy keen woman.
I'm a fruit woman.
I'm a happy woman.
I'm a wounded woman.
I'm a thoughtful woman.
I'm a frog woman.
I'm a self-conscious woman.
I'm a lost woman.
I'm a doubtful woman.

Song Trigger.

Seperated by what we have, or dont. You're so mean. you're cruel. how can you let those words escape your mouth? how can you let the hate out? can't you learn? can't you learn to keep it in. the world would be better off. One thing leads to another. one horrible word could devastate the soul. change a point of view. wreck all self esteem. drag you down. down where no one wants to be.

just think. think before you speak.

Colors

I'll call you sweetpea.
I'll call you lover.
You caress my hand.
Say you can feel my pulse.
Flowing steady, yet fast.
I tell you "your eyes look lovely today."
You say you can see the truth behind mine.
Inside this little shell, which i call my eye you see-
Snakes, aches, blades, and glass.
You make a promise to restore me.
Make me new.
Mend my internal bruises.
You're like a peacock.
Your colors brighter than the neon lights of Vegas.
I can't avoid, i cant resist.
Im instantly drawn to you.
Our heartbeats pound together.
Swirling in sync like the lyrics to our favorite songs.
To be near you would be rad, gnarly.
Oh, but to love you would be just peachy