Poets have been creating list poems for years. Walt Whitman was known for his lists, or catalogues, in his poetry. Create your own list poem of at least 15 items. See this link for the poem "My Car," which is a fun sample: http://www.foxtalesint.com/Poetry/ListPoems
Poem due Monday, Oct. 4. Poem should be a minimum of 10 lines. Proofread!
My Room Is A Vacation
ReplyDeleteThere is the Indian necklace I have from The West
And over there is the snowglobe from New York City
Look, there's my wooden cat made in Tennessee
And don't forget my shell from the sea
Above you is my model of Amelia Earhart's plane
Look down
There's my toy Great Dane from Maine
On the left wall is my Aly & AJ poster from LA
Next to it you'll see my flag from Hungary
To your right is my Philadelphia poster
Beside it, a picture from Disney World
Don't forget my Itlaian ring in the box
It's from the Bronx
There is my brush I got in Arizona
And the comb beside it from Colorado,
My hair clip from Annapolis
On the shelf is my Baltimore Orioles baseball cap
I got it in Baltimore
Yes, I live here in Pennsville,
but just enter my room
Am I here now?
What makes me me
ReplyDeleteTo know me
You have to know what i like
What is in my room
In my room
You will see
All the things
That are dear to me
On my dresser you will see
My jewelery box
It holds most but not all
My gold Italian jewelery
On the floor
You will see
The shoes I plan to wear today
The ones that go perfect
With my outfit
By my bed
You will see
My radio that I listen
To everynight
To listen to all my favorite
CD’s I listen to
Beside that is my book shelf
It holds all the books
I love to read
Some DVD’s
That I’m obsessed with
Look at my walls
You will see
All my idols
On posters I chose
To hang up
You’ll even find
Pink and brown pokadots
Turn a bit to your left
You will see my vanity
Where I put all my make up
Also some hair products
You’ll see
It takes a lot
To get me ready for the day
Then you’ll see my closet
Most of my clothes
You’ll also see all the things
I’m trying to hide from you
Things im embarassed about
Now you know the real me
A Shelf of Stories
ReplyDeleteMy bookshelf is a pirate ship
Where Jack Sparrow and Blackbeard
Battle raging wars on the seven deadly
Seas.
My bookshelf is an enchanted forest
Where Puck plays pranks
Peter Pan uses fairy dust and
The Fellowship of the Ring battles their way to
Mordor.
My bookshelf is A School of Witchcraft and Wizardy
Where spells are cast, potions brewed,
Professors teach young students Defense Against the Dark Arts
And where Harry Potter gets ready to fight.
My bookshelf is a dirty London street
In 1856. Where Sherlock Holmes and
Watson catch bad guys and make it home
Just in time for tea.
My bookshelf is a vampire
Sucking many a people’s blood
Than gathering in his castle
For a slumber in his coffin
My bookshelf is a novel
Ready to be opened.
Creepy, dark, and residing in Purgatory
My bookshelf was written by
Stephen King.
Inside My Head
ReplyDeleteMy Dreams are my Secrets,
My Crushes, my Hopes
With hidden Desires
And Lies I have told
My Dreams are my World
With Whatever I Want
Adventures and Midgets
And Zebras named Kevin
My Dreams are my Fears
With Whatever I Hate.
Like Spiders and Clowns
And Zombies who Think
My Dreams are the Wild
Unknown even to Me.
Surprises and Discoveries
I didn’t know I Knew
My Dreams are my Secrets, my World, and my Fears
My Dreams are the Wild, and an Escape from this World
I Act how I feel and don’t Hide from myself
There’s Everything I Want, and All that I Need
My Dreams are Just that, and Just for Me
What To Write
ReplyDeleteI would write a poem
About my dreams and my fears.
Things that you would expect,
But not this time.
Maybe a poem of other worlds
And people that live there.
Their customs and cultures
that we think are strange.
Or even of magic and mystery.
Of kingdoms and battles,
Fought between the light
And the darkness.
Of course the poem could be about
My life and my friends.
A great poem with all these,
But I can't think of one...
My desk drawer hold my imagination.
ReplyDeleteThe string I use for friendship bracelets,
A bottle of glue I use to hold together
The pieces of confetti in my scrapbook.
In my drawer, are some pictures of my past,
Of my mother and I at her work,
Of my first day of kindergarden, and even
Of my first horseback riding lessons.
In my drawer is where I keep
Pencils that help me write out my dreams,
Baseball cards that one day will be worth a lot,
Hair-ties that keep my hair back when I think.
In my drawer, is where I hold-
Paper that has secrets from my friends,
The game ball I received after stealing home,
Newspaper clippings of minor events.
In my drawer, is where I keep things that are dear,
The ribbons I won in my first Horse Show,
Movie stubs from every movie I've seen in theaters,
A guitar pic that my grandfather gave me.
In my drawer, I've got some neat things.
A signed CD cover from Breathe Carolina,
A signed t-shirt from The Academy Is,
A signed shoe from Madina Lake.
In my drawer, is even my prized Phillie's jersey
with number 34. Roy Halladay's name on the back-
The one I won in Wildwood the weekend of Prom.
In my drawer, is where I keep everything that's close to me.
My room, the one place I find peace.
ReplyDeleteThe dressers that hold my never ending
amount of clothes, the table that
has my favorite movies stacked upon one
another, the hardwood floor dusty from weeks
of cleaning neglect.
The boxes that hold memories of the past
sit on the floor, waiting to be opened again.
The shoe rack slowly falling apart, almost
asking me to fix it one of these days.
A plate full of jewerly that I never seem to wear, another box full of headbands for my hair.
The closet full of forgotten things, such as
childhood toys and old school projects that
have not seen daylight in years. The stuffed
animals that make me feel like a little kid again, the TV that never has its screen displayed.
The windows that creak during windy days,
the computer that is constantly checked,
the light up palm tree my sister gave me
before she moved out of my house.
My bed, the center of the room, and the
most important asset to me, its comforter
polka dotted and striped. The blankets give
me comfort and the pillows let me rest my head, my bed is my favorite place to be.
My room may sound like chaos but it is where
I know I can find serenity from the world.
My little treasures
ReplyDeleteIn the box I hold so tight and dear ,
I see my past, it comes to me so clear.
The generations are held close to my heart.
The love shared through this box, its like a piece of art
The once new now old charm bracelet,
Lays next to the blonde silky ringlet.
Warped pictures of my great grandparents
Pins and ribbons, and a small inherits.
To the right are pressed flowers from long lost nights,
Plane tickets from world wide flights.
Sea shells I collected on your secret beach
Love letters that were given form each.
Hand made cards from our month anniversaries,
Coins and postcards given to me from different countries.
A patch from my grandma’s old school uniform
Threads of a blanket that kept my body warm.
My keepsake box stays under my bed,
And the memories will never leave my head.
Still there for years to come
Pasted down to the young.