More poetry

I get money

I like my Bunches of Oats with Honey

My eggs need ’em runny

The weather, it’s sunny

I drink Dasani and got one knee

Easter time, bunny

I am funny

I like candy, yummy

Dead people, mummy

All y’all my sonny

pc: readthinkwrite

Poem

I’m alone in the dark

Scared of the ocean because of shark(s)

I have a dog, she goes “bark”

I’m walking my dog, gotta embark

In school my friends said I was a narc

Fireworks; spark

Traveling international, Denmark

My teachers yell at me because of my remark(s)

I walk my dog in the park

I know a kid named Mark

After this I’m starting my villain arc

pc: flickr.com

The Lion

How is the lion the king of the jungle?

He his vicious and feared

He’s a killer and a king,

But how?

A lion sleeps for 20 hours day,

Meaning he rules the jungle for only 4 hours a day,

His mentality is different.

He instills fear in others

He kills in his sleep

A lion’s presence alone changes a whole community in the jungle,

Elephants, gazelles, and cheetahs all know who the ruler is

Even humans understand how merciless a lion’s mentality is

In four hours a day the lion is physically running a jungle 

But for 24 hours a day the lion is psychologically ruling a jungle.

Virginia Zoo mourns death of African lion Emery after decline in health |  WAVY.com

Photo from wavy.com

Gobbler

I came home in the early evening to find my stomach hollow

So I put together a dirty dog and placed it in my gullet to swallow,

A hot dog topped with toppings such as cheese, chili, and corn

As I placed it in my mouth I discovered a miracle had been born,

I’m a master of creation

I have the hands of god,

I can change reality like claymation

My life up until now turned to be a facade,

I start to dig in

I’ve become a professional eater,

The food disappears fast

Like I’m accelerating in a two seater,

Seconds have passed

And I’m turning down the heat,

I ate it so fast

I was sure an eating record I had beat.

http://www.pinterest.com

Learning to Fly Again

You gave me a purpose

when I didn’t believe.

You pulled me from the dirt,

kissed me, and forgave me.

You taught me to feel

and you stuck around

when no one would.

I guess you’ve been here all along.

You pushed me off; I thought I died.

But I didn’t.

I learned to fly.

I was just afraid of heights.

The time came; I was ready.

I smiled crying,

sank to my knees,

and forgave the hands that hurt me.

“Leap For Joy” by Emily Olson

This love is like the moon

This Love is like the moon: the guiding light

The guiding light that is taking me home

The moon hangs on the flowers as we roam

The brilliant moon Illuminates the night

The moon watches new flowers bloom with delight

A tale as old as time, take me back to Rome

The guiding light that dims in the unknown

This love and the moon fell victim to fright

Going on, there are wounds that we must mend

Eventually, the story must end

An eclipse veiled the moon just as we feared

It’s hell on earth and the cities on fire

The serenity of the moon has tired

Just like the moon, this love has disappeared

image from weather.com

An Observation

From here I see my campus from an aerial view. If I turn around, I see the backs of the display books in the library. I feel as if I am spying on my own classes, looking through the glass as if admiring a fish tank. The empty space is filled with reflections of light as the mountains project onto the classroom air. The ceiling is as busy as the ground, as the light blends the air the way water blends light.

The soft, patchy hills feel uninviting up close as the pine needles keep me seated delicately. The towering trees are no mightier than grass in the valley, as the vertical space of campus is dominated by mountains, surrounded by empty air.

The birds aren’t tied to the ground. The space is theirs, and they are free to exist on a higher plane. They have their own conversations up here. They chatter amongst each other as I do with my friends in the confines of the trees. 

For this moment, I am with them. I exist on the higher plane, resisting the hour where I will return to my path on the game board of campus. The ground is vast, and I never considered my ability to break my trails. I’ve existed on this campus for years, and I’ve traced the same route each day, etching my footprints into the ground. I’ve left spaces abandoned and ignored. There are pockets in the trees where I’ve never set foot. The heart of campus is in the green leaves, though I experience life on the white concrete, referencing the trees as accessories.

From afar, these trees are the campus. Each little patch on the mountain is a three dimensional plant that stands alone. The buildings are silent amongst the loud winds that rush through the branches, and are invisible behind the deep, warm tones of nature. Before returning to my concrete trail, I will keep in mind where the life of campus resides. My existence circles the trees, and my classroom is not as tall as I once believed.

Image Credit: Home Stratosphere