'You Me and Poetry Scholarship Slam' 'me' 'you' 'scholarship'
Learn more about other poetry terms
As kids we question
We question the small things not the big ones
Things what does this taste like, is there a monster under my bed
Education is the key
to get anyone to where they want to be
for me that is further ahead: college, med school, residency.
Poetry is key
to removing negativity
Oh I’m sorry,
Did my originality offend you?
Cuz’ last time I checked
the message was ‘be yourself’
The outside looking in
Inside the world that one wants to leave
Leave so bad but cannot do
Do to her family, her friends
“It’s beautiful out
here.”
I look
up
at Pawpaw
“What do ya mean?”
Pawpaw looks
down
I remember slavery
It’s waxed into my mind
Made lyrical by the screams of my ancestors
Taught and passed down generation by generation
Speaking all came natural to me
Just the same as the birds and the bees
I always heard it was a reason that the caged bird sings
That just never resonated with me
At first glance,
I thought of it as a chore.
Moaning and groaning,
I saw it as a bore.
With my mentor's
full support,
I finally decided
to try the sport.
Step by step
rattled breath by rattled breath
with the things I felt
I hoped for death.
The echoes of dribbling
the sounds of squeaking
did nothing
to drown out the pleading.
Poetry: A form of writing created by compassion of the heart.
Poetry: A way to create something from nothing.
Poetry: An escape from the reality of everyday life.
To say most people despise poetry
Would not be a lie.
For me I find peace in the pen.
I get this sort of high.
With so many trials and tribulations, poetry
Helps me say bye bye.
Poetry is power at best which is reason enough for duress.
It can take the form of many different conjurings,
especially in terms of organizing subliminal underlyings.
Presenting your feelings in an
My mother doesn't love me constantly longing to dig me out of her belly,
to be scraped clean like a fish in a market
resentment is killing her rotting her inside,
Poetry came around at the time of a younger me.
One that was so happy, with a mind that was so free.
Poetry contests were springing about and teachers scurried
While each elementary student wrote poems in a hurry.
Shy words creep through the open slit of thought
but who will listen
want to peep through every living thing.
if not the idea of ones lingering wish
My hope to anonymously make art for myself.
This happened recently.
I don’t know where my dream is.
But I can hear it singing
Somewhere…
Wop baba lumop a wap bam boom
It sounds so close to me.
Should I leave?
You always protected me
You were dissuasive
And discouraged me from being evasive
You bid me to be mindful of my problems
I tried to ward off my imaginary goblins
Silent as the desert nightThe cacti stood alone,Wading through the sands of children,Plac
Happy
Wanting to convey that taste of childhood...bliss,
Before it slips
Through
My hands gripping the bars-
Tick Tok
Rise and Set
You’ll never know
Who you just met
Pinch yourself, wake up
You won’t escape us
It’s what forms us
Monochromic notes sit upon the table,
covered in equations and remote symbols.
Sketches and prose hidden in the margins;
an escape from the rigidity and logical voids.
Paper chaser. Only thing that seems to allow the things I desire to say and obtain, are only fulfilled with paper.
In the darkest
of my most bitter nights
I saw the plumes of great pyres
the licking flames of my burning passions
flickering
alight
and
it was
an almost cosmic call