Young Writers Society

poem 25

if we could compare, all the world's lack of cares, to the armadillos killed by grizzly bears and the salesmen hawking their wares, this land would be so different.

the body of the armadillo lays upon the roadside. slashed by the grizzly, chomped open by the panther and picked apart by the turkey buzzards. the bear and panther may not have had reason for the damage they did, but the buzzards are defined as a public service. they help us out. they clean up the roads. they take care of the risk of river supply contamination. we shot obscenities at them while they graze in the middle of the highway on roadkill, but there are still necessary to everyday. they are treated like shit but they are a basis for our society.

then there is the comparison of the salesman, who marches door to door, trying to make a living somehow. he may get his foot in the door, but it is quickly slammed upon him, leaving his foot as broken as his pride. he is like the turkey buzzards that receive curses and screeches, just going about what his duty to this world may be.

our feelings often take the form of jobs, the emotions worry about everything being just right and that we should do something sensible. just play our part in what was given.
for the buzzard, this job is to clean up the highway.
for the salesman, this job is to sell what he has been told to sell.
for the child, this job is to simply have fun and enjoy life, a job within itself filled with the multitude of lies.

and for the student, the job is to suffer and try to figure out your real job, while earning the necessary education and religion. sticking to the prompt given, don't let the essay step out of bounds.
"if the character is straight, write them like that, don't let fleeting thoughts let yourself sin."

Lizz, Poem 24's structure was perfect for a poem about wading deeper into water/emotion. It made the poem feel like as a reader I was walking deeper and deeper into the poem as it was being read.

I'm enjoying getting to read your little humorous interludes, that are actually pretty clever too - your poetry (especially the humorous ones) really read like you. Your voice comes through!

poem 27

sometimes the words flow out as real thoughts.
and at others, they will stagger across the open
highway, trying to avoid getting hit by some rage
-ful car, only to be swerved into and left on the
side, labeled road kill...

poem 28

if i am
what you
think that i
am, do you
still have some
sort of love for me?
is it still there or has
it faded away, with
everything else
you have ever
had. i am no
longer here,
but yet i am
still hoping,
you hold a
candle for
me some
-where.
yes?
no?
ok.

poem 30

i try to work through things.
that is a statement anyone
can make.

'i try'
'we try'
'don't you see me trying'

you can make the state-
ment, but can you do the
work to support it?

poem 31

i run on beside the railroad train.
smoke tumbles out and tries to suffocate me.
it cannot be successful.
my horses falter, the stage starts to tumble
down, but yet i keep trying to catch up to her...

poem 32

"my music is better than yours."
the young people screech this from the street.
"your music is repetition of mine."
shouts mr. beethoven, while rolling in his grave.

poem 33

the otter sits cautiously by the bank.
it watches the alligator slip off into the cypress.
and then it makes its move, lunging onto the back,
of this wild reptilian beast. snatching and snarling with
sharp and quick claws, the otter makes quick work of the
alligator, in the swampy, spooky, and silent, river of solitude.

poem 34

come on now
there are sighs
that come from every-
one in the audience.
they cannot take waiting
once more for the movie
to try and roll on, while
bombs fall in the back-
ground. the man in the
dress in the back, wearing
the flowered shower cap,
desperately tries and re-
peatedly fails, but keeps
going on, while bombs
fall in the background.

poem 35

the mailman walks down the street.
the doggo steps out of the dim alley,
giving a tremendous bark that shakes
the world. the mailman is scared and
dies of fright. the doggo marches off
heroically as he conquers another vic.

poem 36

the next day,
a replacement walks the same beat,
passing by the dim alley. he has
been warned of the beast that does
reside there. but instead of a big
doggo, he sees just a small pupper.
it yips. it yaps.
he dies of witnessing the overwhelming
cuteness of the small pupper.

poem 37

somewhere in washington,
a director smokes a pipe,
wondering how all of these
men died so easily.
there is a knock on the door.
then a woof and a bark.
a claw and a scratch.
there is the scary doggo
and the cute pupper,
that caused the deaths
of a few good men.
now they will cause
a few more, before
the day's end...

poem 38
inspo pt 1: 5th picture

they all flock together,
called birds of a feather.
standing in whatever weather,
like the herd is a tether,
huddling and huddling
closer together.