Extra Poem

Poetry

All I do
is run a black
pen across the
white page
and it becomes
a bird
in the sky
or a stallion
running in the wind.

Extra Poem

Possibility

So many green leaves

Splayed like starfish

In a sea of blue sky,

Spread like the small hands

Of babies,

Reaching out for the life

That lies ahead--

Pregnant with beautiful promise

Peppered with dreams

And sprinkled with hope.

Choice Poem

Heat

The heat creeps in
Reminding me of tasks left unperformed
Like the dust lining the slick dresser
A line drawn in it by a guilty finger
Or like that random sock, brown grime on the sole
Hiding out in a dark corner of the closet
A little, off-white monster.

Gift Poetry

Back When

For Dad

What I remember most

Is a rainbow kite

Flying high in the sky

On a neon leash;

The field was brown and hot,

And the sky was blue

Like your shorts.

What I remember most

Was sitting on porch steps

With tall glasses of iced tea

Looking into the future.

What I remember most

Is being woken in the night

To watch Fire explode in the sky

From the safety of your lap,

Wrapped in a worn, patched blanket.

Silly Silverstein Poetry

The Toothfairy?

Have you heard of the evil tooth fairy?

Betcha didn't know she was hairy

With eyes that glow

And a long, crooked nose,

She is nothing short of plain scary!

So hold tight to your teeth,

Or she'll come up from beneath,

As you sleep, as you dream, so be wary!

Biodiversity Poetry

Night Symphony

The brilliant sun,

Whose arms have held,

Whose arms have warmed

The multitude of tiny grains

Of eggshell sand coating the desert floor,

Bows low before the grand saguaro.

And in an instant there springs forth

A symphony of soft shades

Harmonizing with silent drifting clouds,

And as the shadows of royal limbs reach up in majestic appreciation,

As the minute grains give up the intoxicating scent of their cooling,

As the ancient skull of a creodont grins eerily,

The tiny elf owl, like an elegantly dancing sprite,

Celebrates the Arizona night with tiny wings…

Whiiir, whiiir, whiir!

Choice Poem- Scaffolded Poetry

The Red Wheelbarrow
By William Carlos Williams

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens.





The Voice on the Line
By J. Sental


so much depends upon a deep, reedy voice lined with true concern traveling over long phone wires.

Scaffolded Poetry

Gee, You're So Beautiful That It's Starting to Rain

By Richard Brautigan

Oh, Marcia,

I want your long blonde beauty

to be taught in high school,

so kids will learn that God

lives like music in the skin

and sounds like a sunshine harpsichord.

I want high school report cards to look like this:

Play with Gentle Glass Things

    A

Computer Magic

   A

Writing Letters to Those You Love

   A

Finding out about Fish

   A

Marcia's Long Blonde Beauty

   A+

Gee, Words... You Evoke the Rain

By J. Sental

Oh, Minstrel,

I want to capture your voice

in a book of lyrical poems

so that world will know that words

ache like sorrow and longing in the night

and blaze like a candle through the crisp autumn.

I want tables of content to look like this:

Beautiful Sadness              pg 2

Lying in the Grass              pg 10

Finding First Love             pg 15

The Secrets of Life           pg 20

Metaphor Poetry

Oh Nine

In that moment there was, blended out at the edges, a faded calm,

And we were the sudden building static,

Zipping through silent limbs, through the sweating palms,

Of wakening trees and anxious, shifting onlookers.

We were the desperate, growing buds,

Easing forward, itching forward, rushing forward,

And suddenly bursting out like a flood,

Full of life in the sweet, sparkling air.

We were the honey and the buzzing bee,

And the emblazoned future reached keenly out,

To each of us standing in line, each a dancing ant,

Adorned in black and clinging to a promise, a hope, a dream…

So small and so big,

They called our names one at a time,

And this was only the beginning.

Garden Poetry

B

Quickly and loudly,

He announces his presence

Like the sound of a lawn mower

Out of something the size of a button…

He passes me by

On his way to a flower,

And I wonder if he can smile,

And I wonder where he will be going

And what things he will be doing

Today

In his yellow and black striped suit.