Jennifer Fennifer

Jenn Benn Fenner is from Jenner Benner Fenner Ville! (thats a lie) Jenn, you are crazy. anything but lazy. unless you are given dazies. I know that we will always be friends because you LOVE me so much - thats a lie . . . i love you more. HA! {this is not a very poemy poem} - MY BAD. im pretty sure that you are one of the most secret BA friends i have and kelly just texted me {brb}- AAAAND im back. speaking of, we need to go to disney land no if's and's or but's. i miss you greatly when i am away at school or hiking in the jungle of Nool. Jenn, never leave me. if you do, i will cry for a life time. i{love}you.

I Miss Katie McGregor

oh katie oh katie, how i miss you.

you are as silly as a kookaburra, and as wacky as one too. i miss our goofy times, and our serious times. i miss our voices going horse,

and trying on random clothes in stores. katie, i will know you forever,

and forever we will be, siamese twins or attached at the knee. i love you Katie McGregor, as much as the sun shines, but when the sun goes down . . . RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!!!

Molly

Molly{OH}Molly

WHAT has been {my} folly

you are in fact {NOT} a trolly

{OR} a swimming dolly.

oh how I {love} thee dear sweet MOLLY

I wish you were under some {HOLLY}

cause then i would KISS your beautiful face!

Too Much, Too Late BY: rachel castro

You’ll know her by the hum in your chest

When you look up and take notice

Of that visible covenant after the rain.

And you’ll know her by the sound your feet make

As they fumble through that creek bed

No one remembers the name of.

You should have kept those hands at your side

Instead of in her blood supply.

APPLE CHILD by Rachel Castro

I make noises of a woman who has been nursing hurt from a long time ago, like an apple that was bruised long before it was ripe. These bruises run deep, close to my core.

I fear for the one who chooses me, venturing to peel back my hopeful skin.

Kelly Ann

you are a lion, a crazy lion

you are a peach, a fuzz wuzzy peach

you are a squeegee, a flopy doppy squeegee

you are an old shoe, falling apart from the inside out

your hair is like dark solid amber

your teeth are like sharp daggers

your neck is like the stem of a poppy

your shoulders are like ice cream in a cone

your eyes are like glass marbles

your chin is like a nib without ink on it

your ears are like ribbons

I Spy - by kelly ann

My window is my glass.
My magnifying looking half-full glass. The glass window that shows
The World
My World
My World as The World.
When it rains for days,
My world mixes in gold-flecked daisies with those raindrops.
When the apple tree blossoms,
My quilted tree next to it pushes out kites of gingham and calico.
When the rabbits in the field next to the apple tree frolic,
My long-legged starfish perch under the quilted tree,
Stretching their legs to reach the rabbits’ passing feet.
When the boys next door chase the rabbits in the field next to the apple tree,
My fantastically oversized frog lies in wait for those boys-
Cage in hand, ready to capture those pink plundering punks and bring them back to his pad.
My windowpane separates My World from The World.
Sometimes combining the two worlds as one
Making it hard to tell the real from the more real.
Which is which?
I spy what I spy not what I see.
Which is just the way I like it.
_______________________________________
Poem By: Kelly Ann
Photo By: beetlebailey75

Hunger

My tummy is getting empty now
I haven’t eaten since 12pm today
I will not eat again until 7pm tomorrow

I know what it feels like to be full
I know what it feels like to be sick because I am to full
I know what it feels like to not want food because I am full

I can get food when ever I want to
If I don’t like what we have at home
I hop in my car and go buy something I want
No bacteria, no worries of getting sick from it

They have never been full
They don’t know what if feels like

They’re tummies are empty every day
Crying themselves to sleep because it hurts
They are weak and diseased
They don’t stand a chance 

They will not make it if they don’t eat
Most of them don’t make it at all
Never knowing what it feels like to be full
Never knowing what its like to be strong
Never knowing what its like to be full for one day

But there is hope
World Vision


photo from HERE

Not Worth Reading

teal dew moistens the willow feathers
as the lily froth ooze footprints of poison.
wet thrashing suspense in a navy red box
whispers dragon fire, curling in wisps.
timid blades swindle at the zenith

___________________________
picture from HERE

Brother

Strong like venom,

from a cobra to the eyes.

Stressed like the beams,
of an old ancient building.

Growing lines of experience,
like the cracks in a brick fire place.

Stern as a grand father clock.

No sleep, only hibernation,
as a bear waiting for spring.

Quiet as a dying moth,
in inky darkness.

Crooked front tooth,
like a coble stone out of place.

Scarred face that remembers,
friction from the pavement.

Polished,
a new gold metal.

Lazy barn owl gazing,
at you from the rafters.

Crazy like the white foam,
that dances out of reach of the swift river.

Tired, weathered,
like an old boat.

Proud, tall
the mountain puma.

Random

The moon, broken off like an arctic glacier plummeting into the cold blue

A red flower, brilliant as the burning embers of a dying fire

Her fingers, delicate as thinly spun sugar

The island stretches out from the coast
like a giraffe kneeling to drink

Your backbone ridged like randomly placed river rocks on the shore

Soft as the sound of a wasp walking on a window pane

That bicyclist, careening downhill like a hawk dive-bombing for its next victim

Crazy bird! Its song like the lightning that illuminates the summer night sky

His monotonous voice like the steady marching of the soldiers

She spun off like a fly, its wings violently plucked from its body

Days pass like the golden wheat grows in the amber fields

____________________________________
photo from HERE

Elephants

The long legs that stretch to the heavens like the cattails by the river.

The knees, large as wheelbarrows riding up mountains with gray stone in them.

Ears that flap in the wind like sails of a pirate ship, tattered and warn.

Sharp and weathered, drooping from the skull, like stiff ribbon on a package, tusks.

Like broken charcoal, tents jut from the old rounded backs and point to the blackness above.

Trunks that extend to the skies with curled tips like grape vines.

The sky burns red like the eyes of a panther.
The clouds, cold and dark like the black death.

Random

Rushing past the yellow corn, tears escaping my eye corners
Thrashing through the fire that licks salt less tears dry
Dragon colors flash in my head
Voices scream with silence that make my ears bleed and my head pound
Daydreams fade away into the fields of clover
Footprints melt the stone and leave memories in my mind Ocean creatures retreat into the depths
Froth suffocates the eyes of a mother
Red sounds her cry of sorrow
Secrets that will never be told
The lily blooms with the call of the Dragon
Hushed and hurries are the many Voices
There are many who Daydream
But few that have memory Footprints
Stinging colors spring a crossed the Ocean
Shrill cries drip Froth
The round train tracks blaze Red
Scattered a cross the dirt are untold Secrets

Night Street

the glow of lights were absent
the street was calm.

rain was falling like little pink worms
with camouflage parachutes.
extended yielding moist.

the sky showed no vibrant color
it was in black and white,
like sticking your head in the ocean
and opening your eyes
to see the blackness of the deep ripples.
the long fingers touching the inside of your eyes,
that makes you open your eyes wider,
even though the salt stings deep inside.

the tree by the faded blue gate.
old and decayed like my grandfather.
bark flaking off like diseased skin.
leaves growing thinner like silver hair.
parasites crawl in and out like cancer
never leaving.
there, only to kill.
alone with no one to take care of it,
discarded and forgotten like a butterfly
whose wings had been touched.
helpless.

the smell of clean wet exhaust up
from the black street.
the street that shows no blemish.
the hot smell fills the air like
a carnival fills the air with sound.
_____________________________________________
I found this photo on www.flickr.com and i really liked it and thought it would go well. even though its not anything close to what is in my poem. this is who's photo this is - CLICK

The Cat

The cat sings songs of birds in cages
As he dances around the bed,

The song brought down from many ages
When he was a kitten they filled his head;

The lights were out and the streets were calm
Dust danced along the sill,

The song flowed like a psalm
And the room stood oh so still;

The cat then stopped his little song
He stared out the window pane,

He had been singing all night long
His eyes blazed bright with flame

He turned to curl up in his little bed
To sing no more for he was dead.

The City

The sky is a giant pearl that shines with different colored light

The street reflects the sky like the refection of yourself when you swim underwater upside-down

The caterpillar cars line the street in perfect proportion with fuzzy light gleaming off the windows

The buildings are like dead pine trees, hollowed out for its parasites to live

A pothole in the street turns into a silver dollar, the vents are cheese graders belching stream

The street lamps are dinosaurs craning their necks to soak up the last bit of delicious sun light

A lost dog wonders the street like an airplane searching for survivors

Trees, green and feeble, suck the bitter air for any last bit of strength

Birds are brightly colored confetti falling from the sky with violent grace and purpose