Of Tortoise

Tis a great thing to see a tortoise
On the occasion you do, watch, for they're
Ready
To leap into action in a moment
Of course, they never do
Instead, they bide their time
Sitting and taking in
Every beautiful detail of the world

Of End of Spring

Well, it's almost summer, and those of us in school know that means freedom. We've reached the point where we no longer try our hardest (if we ever did). We're honestly just trying to make it for another few weeks. Even the teachers don't care. It's a hard time for us all. We want to be gone, but we must stay.

For we lucky 8th graders, this week almost means freedom, because at our school, this is the last "real" week we have. Next week is set aside for exam reviewing, and the week after is actual exams. Piece of cake. Yes, that means 2-hour long tests every day and a bucketload of homework, but that's just one side. Exams also mean spending 2 weeks relearning and being tested on stuff we already know, and then get to go home afterwards. REAL piece of cake. Especially if you get to go to Ukrops - I mean "Martin's" - after exams to get one of their specialty baked goods. Yum.

So all I'm saying is that exams aren't a reason to groan. And for those of you who aren't fortunate enough to have exams - I'm sorry. You'll make it. Remember, we're all suffering together.

....But not 8th graders. Haha.

Of A Simple Child

A simple child will ask and not know
If the sun and the sky and the earth do grow
And he'll wonder and stare with longing at clouds
Watch the world pass by, and never know how
And just listen to the songs, the words we can't hear
He'll soak up the Earth through his mouth, eyes, and ears
And the glittering sun and the soft, gentle breeze
Are his friends, and he doesn't care for disease
So he loves the storm, and the cold, winter, too
For they comport him while everyone is blue
And he'll watch and he'll wonder, be a part of the world
Without really knowing, and then with fists furled
He'll wake up to life - or so it would seem
Is the world that we know only a dream?

Of [Untitled] Raven-esque poem

I've been having some fun with cadence and rhyme scheme lately. So as this is far from Poe quality, I did have some fun with it. And remember, folks, half of great poetry is sad, so.... enjoy! (By the way, it's kinda long. Sorry)

Solem! Solem! cried the witch from the hilltop
As rain and lightening whipped through the air
And the stormy sea roared, slapping the rocky side
Drenching the tattered robes she did wear

Solem! Solem! Oh, bring us the light!
Drive away the storm that beats like a bear
And rips through the air itself like a sword!
Cried the witch as the wind swept her raggedy hair

She shouted and tried to calm the rough sea
To control the great storm, only she would dare
And some villagers watched with their mouths hanging open
Frozen by fear, they could only stare

Away with her! She is bringing the storm!
Yelled a burly young lad with grease-matted hair
And he grabbed a pitchfork and stomped up the hill
The villagers, too, followed, for this bravery was rare

Solem! cried the witch, still trying to beckon
The sun from its cloud-stricken lonely lair
And she turned, hearing people, and saw in their eyes
The storm, full of anger, the hate did they share

No, no! the witch shouted, I'm trying to help!
I'm bringing the sun, not of evil, but care!
And she tried to stop them, but weakened was she
Thus they overtook and strapped her to a splintering chair

They whipped her, and beat her worse than the wind
Her face they did slap, her clothes they did tear
And they kept going, the hours ticking by
Til the witch's agony hung thick in the air

Stop! Oh, now stop! You monstrous beasts!
Wept the witch, for not much longer could she fare
And so she gave up, let her soul go limp
It was then gone, and she wasn't here nor there

The villagers stood, waiting in silence
For now she was dead, it should all be fair
And a rainbow would come to reward their good deed
So they waited, and at the dark clouds did they stare

But the storm grew much louder, rumbling the Earth
The rain came down harder, the wind whipped through the air
And from the storm they could hear the soft cry
Solem! of the witch with the raggedy hair

....bammm. Enjoyed? Leave comments and/or criticism in the dooblydoo!

Of Pondering

Why does the sun shine more than the moon?
Why don't we float when we hold a balloon?
Why is the grass not as tall as a tree?
I wonder as I sit in the shade in June

Why does a rooster not crow at noon?
Why can't we eat soup with a fork, not a spoon?
Why must the river flow into the sea?
These questions plague me this afternoon

I could probably find out from a wealthy tycoon
Or a science professor who'd sing me a tune
But for now I think I'll let things be
Having fun as I wonder in the shade in June

-Hope you liked it! Cameron

Of "The Waveless Sea"

I wrote a poem last Friday afternoon while preparing for the Maggie Walker test. It was very lively, but that is a story for another time. Thus, I present my poem, entitled "The Waveless Sea." Take from it what you will.

They swam away through the waveless sea
The three, the three!
Thinking of chocolates and nuts that could be
Across the lonely, waveless sea
How they longed to rest in the shade of a tree
In a forest of birds and swinging monkeys
But of this there was none - how could there be?
Neither bed nor meal, nor a cup of tea
Lay at the end of this waveless sea
And although there was naught, they thought there to be
And life was a chest, and this was the key
The goal of the quest? They longed to be free
Though the ocean was empty, content were the three
They kept swimming with imagined glee
Away, away through the waveless sea

Of "I Am" Poems

My English teacher assigned us a poetry project a while ago, due February 2nd. Today I decided to begin it. The assignment was to write an "I Am" poem in the format given, which is basically "I feel ____; I try ____," and we are expected to fill in the blanks with meaningful phrases. I learned that writing a poem by a format is harder than it looks.

When I sat down to write, I couldn't seem to find a topic. One line was about my clarinet playing; another was about my quest for knowledge. After only ten minutes, I had to put it aside. I was just too conflicted to write a simple poem about myself.

I often tell my friends that I am "too complex to be put down on paper." Now I stand by this with my whole heart. I ended up writing five different first stanzas, all of them good, and all of them capturing one aspect of me. No matter how hard I tried, however, I just couldn't seem to find that one stanza that captured all sides of me. Thus, I had to resign from the matter temporarily while I wait to find that one idea that I know is right. In the meantime, however, I've come to a conclusion.

I may know myself enough to function in society, but I don't know myself enough to write about. Or at least, I know myself too well. Isn't it easier to write about something from an outside view? That's what this poem is about to me, though. Being able to write about yourself and learning to express things too big for words with words. It's a hard prospect, and it's one that I better understand withing the next week. For now, though, I'm stuck writing multiple poems, none of which seem to come out just right. I may truly be too big for words.

The father of one of my friends said "Forget the format. Do what you want." I stand by this for things that are too big for simple language, but as a writer, I must take on the challenge and do as best as I can. I think I've already got the "I try ____" line figured out. :)