I used to despise most poetry, especially unrhyming poetry. But now… now I actually kind of like it! It lets you look at the world in a different way. And I have to admit, it’s pretty fun to write. 😀 I decided to share a few of my poems today, which I hope you enjoy. I’m not very experienced with poem-writing so any tips or constructive criticism is welcome. 🙂

poems

poems slip on tinted glasses

and make you look at everything

upside down and sideways

until you don’t know where you started

and even the plainest, dullest things

are something new and wonderful.

bonfire

warm, nimble fingers

grabbing for a hold

on slippery branches, paper, sticks

then giving up

and sliding down again,

but leaving black scars

to mark their path.

hungry flames

licking with soft strokes

melting the wood

with warm tongues.

a burning sunset in a ring of stones.

art

the language of imagination.

art is spoken not

with verbs and nouns

but with brushstrokes

and colors

and lines.

art is spoken not

with the mouth,

but with the fingertips;

not only with the mind,

but with the soul.

some people are fluent from birth

and some must work

to master it,

but like all languages,

anyone can learn.

pool

there is nothing quite like

a pool, with its

liquid burden of blue

which wraps around you

like an cool blanket

and holds you up

on its strong, soft back.

when you plunge beneath

the surface, you enter another world:

still, silent,

save for the whisper of

your body as it

glides through

the water.

pools are

freckles and brown arms

and pink shoulders

where the sunscreen was too thin;

bubbles swimming to the surface

like fragile jellyfish;

sunbeams dancing together

in intricate patterns,

a web of yellow light

shifting and shimmering

in the cool blue water;

a place where everything

moves in slow motion.

vacation

a few days of

condensed work

for a few days of

condensed memories.

 

 

piano

a funny language

with an alphabet

of dots and lines.

its sentences are

spoken not with

the tongue, but

with the fingers;

not with the mind,

but with the soul.

playing piano is

reading a beautiful

story out loud with

your fingertips, a

story sung by the

heart of the composer

and captured forever

on a white paper page.

little things

a dew drop hanging

from a blade of grass,

poised for a dive.

a perfect blossom,

opening it’s shy face

to the world.

a set of brilliant colored pencils,

lined up like colorful soldiers

in their square tin.

a sunset burning up the sky

one flaming cloud at a time.

a basket of vegetables

sun-warmed and fresh picked.

i sometimes think

the best things come in

small packages.

don’t you?

the sound of summer

the deep bass of bullfrogs,

the cymbal clash of thunder,

the low roar of a lawn mower,

the staccato pop of canning jars sealing,

the juicy crunch of a watermelon slice,

the splash of a rock thrown into water,

the buzzing crescendo of cicadas,

the shrill soprano chirp of crickets,

the sweet melody of birdsong,

all weave together,

into a beautiful symphony:

the sound of summer.

 

That was fun! And yes, I am aware that the “art” and “piano” poems are very similar – almost exactly the same in some parts. But I couldn’t bear to change those parts out and I wanted to share both of them. XD

Which poem was your favorite? Do you like non-rhyming poetry?

***Allison***

P. S. Guys, you should really check out Hayley’s ATC trade! She needs a few more people to sign up before the trade is worthwhile to do, so if you like art, you should definitely look into it! 😀 And in case you’re wondering, I’ll be doing the trade too. 😉