Sometimes we write something and we're not sure what it's about, and only later do we realize what it's all about. Can you tell what the deeper meaning is to this poem?
Going where? Oh where!
Just seeing you there,
Standing there, all alone,
looking at your phone
Not knowing where you were
What you were
Who you were!
Not knowing what anything is
Not knowing what air is,
What trees are, what life is.
What dogs are,
Cats, geese, mouse,
Who I am
What this is
Not knowing where to go
Going where? Oh where!
The speaker in this poem by 8th grader Campbell C. is having a conversation with themselves, trying to figure out why they feel the way they feel. In the end, they find it easier to just go to sleep. Have you ever felt that way? (reminder: the poet is not always the same as the speaker in a poem!)
Keep it safe, don’t pose a threat
Relax, everything that’s wrong is kept
Keep your mouth shut, never to say a word
If you do these things maybe you won’t be heard
Yet again, your mind has its ways
It makes you think of your terrible days
What went wrong then
Things you don’t want to happen again.
It makes you confused
Everything you did wrong
The actions you would had made
That would’ve fixed your broken song
I'm probably the only one who gets confused
Days on end without a clue
I shut out the world and concentrate
Sit there and just wait
Wait for time when it’s all done
Go home and sleep when the day is gone
I don’t even know where to start Talking about my Mimi’s little fart Trust me, It’s not what you think So sit down; want a drink?
Here, I got you some wine to begin, the fart is a feline If he gets hungry he starts to meow And if you don’t feed him, he’ll hit you with a POW!
7th grade Nathaniel D sent in this scene that sounds like a description right out of a book. Great writing, Nate!
A tender breeze wafted through leaves brighter than jades, providing an otherworldly whisper that echoed off the many limbs of each tree. On a dull, riverside rock turned golden by the rays of the sun, a lark sang a gentle melody complimented by the steady rush of a spring river. Despite the mingling of sunlight and shade, the water remained clear, true to its rhythm and color. Like oiled glass, it could be seen through without any flaws, revealing exotic fish with jeweled scales and various additions to their heads and tails.
Tangled underbrush brighter than the leaves above stopped at the river, yet it swarmed through the forest with an uncanny glee. Enriched with a vibrant assortment of flowers, a blanket of darkness was spread across the lands. Constellations appeared, enlightening the lands below with a distinctive mystique. Countless flowers of a creamy color opened up, revealing beautiful throats that welcomed the cool embrace of the night.
As a day set and a day dawned, light coated the land once more.
Check out these two poems by first-time submitter Luke B. Thanks for sending in your poems and keep up the great work!
Winter weather makes this a welcome addition to the OHWP. Thanks to 6th grader Kiri O for this fine submission!
On a nice sunny day
In a rock
Thousands of tiny little sea shells
Just a remnant of what they used to be
Smooth, tiny and brown
They feel cool against my skin
I grab as many as I can
On the ground I see more
But these were alabaster white
A fine bumpy texture
That felt like a massage on my finger tips
I stuff at least five in to my pockets
I see in the sand
Pebbles that looked a bit irregular
I look closer
And to my joy
Small smooth and pink,
I grab a few of them
And listen to the sounds
They make when I shake them in my
Then I go home
Beyond the Nest
In my front yard
A giant oak stands
Its branches all twisted
Forking into smaller strands
And resting in the middle
On a bed of woven leaves
Is a tiny little bird nest
Where a tiny bird grieves
For tomorrow is the day
When it has to leave the nest
Kept awake by many worries
It can’t get a wink of rest
When it finally shuts its eyes
And tucks its head into its wing
It is woken in the morning
When its mother starts to sing
Then the other birds start joining
In the tweeted goodbye song
Till’ it echoes through streets
And carries long and clear and strong
The tiny bird spreads out its wings
And then away it flies
Its family’s song still in its ears
As it caws one last goodbye
Soon after that it found a tree
And built itself a home
Next to the one where it once lived
Because why be alone?
Privilege is a difficult topic to cover for anyone, let alone a 7th grader. But Nate has done a wonderful job at broaching this tricky subject with the poem below. Impressed? Confused? Want to know more? Post comments & questions below!
To dwell on the prominence
Of some white men
Is a mistake
In this culture.
To be? Listened to
Is a cherished feeling
That everyone deserves.
Or not to be? Heard
But what you learned
Was of their privilege
Yet with acknowledgement
In fighting prejudice.
A wave of deep gray
collides with bright, lively, blue
a heavy mattress of rain
flattens soaked grass and hair alike
the shrieks filling the air are stunned into silence
replaced by the colossal angry yelling
the thundering voice of the clouds
people run for cover
as a spear of crackling energy
arcs down from above
a tree comes down with a sickening crash
its trunk reduced to splinters
it takes down two of its kind in the fall
launching panicked squirrels
into the chaos of the streets
a deafening silence
heard for miles
as dim spotlights
loosen the knotted clouds
illuminating the welcome world