Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Welcome New Club Members!

I'm happy to welcome the newest members of the Wednesday Afternoon Poetry Club to the world of blogging poetry. As you will learn at today's meeting, blogging is a great way to share your work and read what others are writing, even in the middle of the night! Below is some introductory information from our very first post back in October. Once you've read through it, feel free to browse through the previous posts on the blog, and comment on the poets' requests for pressing, blessing or addressing their work. (Remember to always use your slam names when you comment or post.)

In order to post your poems, you need to get your parent/guardian's signature on the permission form, and return it to La Maestra in her classroom. You do not need to wait until the next Wednesday meeting to return the signed form. Once La Maestra receives your form, she will send you an invitation at your email address.

In your email invitation, you will see a link. Click on it, and it will take you to a window asking you to sign in to join the blog. Before you may sign in, you will need to click on the "Create an Account" button. You will choose a user name, a password, and a display name. Your display name will be seen every time you post a poem or comment on someone else's post. Your display name must protect your identity and all your personal information. It should not reveal anything about you. This is your chance to choose your slam poet name. Be creative. In addition to creating a slam name, you may also create a user profile that anyone reading the blog will see by clicking on your slam name. Again, for your own protection, you may not share any identifying information in your profile.

Once you create your account and sign in, you will be able to post your poetry on our blog.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Nocturne (Press)

I hope that you can find me in the stars
just like I always see you in the sun,
for then the universe will know what's ours
and we'll exist there - tranquil, quiet, one.
Perhaps someday I'll sparkle in your eyes
as brightly as you shine each day through mine,
and then we'll both be innocent and wise,
complete and with conviction, for all time.
But we walk not in heaven, here on Earth:
and I cannot fulfill this need in me,
and empty, maybe, I'll forever be,
falsely feeling outcast, without worth.
And every day, I'll tread on this ground, blind,
the thought of lost sight always on my mind.

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Solitude (Press)

The wind rustling the limbs on the
bent, leafless trees
pushes the swing I sit on gently
as my feet trail lightly through
the loose, powdery snow.

It's a cold wind,
forcing me to unclamp my frozen hands from
the slightly rusted metal chains
and wrap them tightly around myself,
keeping the biting wind from sneaking
into my jacket through the broken zipper.

I hear flocks of geese calling overhead as they fly,
traveling northeast towards the snow-covered
grassy fields stuck haphazardly between
the housing developments spreading rapidly
like some contagious, yet fatal, disease.

The swing next to me rocks emptily
as the wind continues to blow-
driving tiny, pale flakes off of neighboring
rooftops and causing the old, worn out
wooden playground equipment to creak loudly,
drowning out the calls of the geese.

My fingers, red and numb from the
icy metal have begun to thaw inside
my pockets, occasionally braving the
wind to brush stray brown hairs
away from my face.

The wind begins to blow even more fiercely,
causing the swings to rattle sharply
as I jump off into the soft, white powder.
It crunches under my feet as I walk hurridly
home, trying to escape the increasingly frigid air.

Sunday, February 19, 2006

Truth (press)


What tells the truth
Do eyes?
Do hands?
Do mouths?
Does anything?
Of all the things
That may tell the truth
Could it be blood
It boils in anger
it freezes when scared
It is blue in the body
But red in the air
Blood seeps
Blood flows
Blood reveals all
If anything tells the truth
Blood will

Friday, February 17, 2006

It's Real

my hair sways slowly
as I walk
to my room
the tears are dripping
bringing with them faded remembrance
of the day's makeup.

I change
into my pajamas
throw my hair up into a ponytail
and turn the water on
hot and get out the soap
to drown out
my faded face.

My tears fade
as the hot water
sweeps them away.
But the pain
that caused them
stays, even as I wipe my
damp face
with a towel.

This is real
is what I tell myself
over and
over again
as I sit down
on my bed
a magazine
and some hot tea.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Blood (press)


Blood,blood seeps
As I sit feeling
Christ is that sensation
No more blood
No more seeping
The blood drips no more
Only a scar
Where it seeped through
Once before

To Have (press)

To Have

To have
Would be nice
To cuddle
To comfort
How splendid to have
To hold
To be there
I would love
To have
To hug
To keep
To meet
To love
How splendid to have
I wish
But will it happen
If ever
Would be nice
To have

Thursday, February 09, 2006

The Bedroom Window (Press)

the earth begins to turn
my stomach churns
a small crack spreads
through the dirt.

I feel sick and want to go to bed
I stare up at the white sky there above

the rock splits in two
my life bends quietly
with it
the broken pieces lie still
I lie still with them
for awhile.

I fall asleep and dream a blissful life
Awakening to find that all is gone

my chest feels
and I feel fatigued again,
as if by some strange disease
for which there is
no cure.

The rain outside my window falls in splats
and turns all of that cracked dirt into mud