#123Imagery

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Fame is the one that does not stay — (1507)

Victoria Dobson

BY EMILY DICKINSON

Fame is the one that does not stay —

It's occupant must die

Or out of sight of estimate

Ascend incessantly —

Or be that most insolvent thing

A Lightning in the Germ —

Electrical the embryo

But we demand the Flame

I like this poem because it sounds cool honestly. I e line electric the embryo. Like how wanting fame is just ingrained into human nature. And how even though fame is short fleeting and worthless in the end. We seek it any way throughout our lives. How such a small thing being known by others can push one's life in so many directions and make people do things they never thought they would do is so strange if you think about it for a bit . like the essential need to be loved in our souls.

[introtopoetrydrk]

Skylar Angel

Emily Dickinson

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,

And Mourners to and from

Kept treading-treading- till it seemed

That Sense was breaking through -

And when they all were seated,

A Service, like a Drum-

Kept beating- till I thought

My Mind was going numb-

And then i heard them lift a Box

And creak across my Soul

With those same Boots of Lead, again,

Then Space- began to toll,

As all the Heavens were a Bell,

And Being, but an Ear.

And I, and Silence, some strange Race,

Wrecked, solitary, here-

And then a Plank in Reason, broke,

And I dropped down, and down-

And hit a World, at every plunge,

And Finished knowing- then-

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#PoetrywithDrK

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Oh how I miss the beaming rays

From the warm summer sun.

I can wait to relive those days

Of all that summer fun.

I hope this winter wonderland

Just melts itself away.

My melanin is yearning for

A bright warm summer day.

JanaBrownGriffith

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#123imagery

Skylar Angel, Original poem

you are always ripped from sleep

finest place to be

dozing, gripped by dreams

wandering on the edge of reality

a tease dissolution

exiting actuality

repealing any desire to continue

[introtopoetrydrk]

Skylar Angel // Sylvia Plath

I feel like this might be a little bit of a stretch in terms of direct relation to Sylvia Plath, but it was the first thing that came to mind. I’m graduating this year and the only class i take in high school is ap art. The goal of the class is to make 15 pieces and turn them in at the end to be scored and all that. Basically i chose the theme “life of a rock star” just for fun. ( Mind you, this whole class was for fun. I cannot draw for shit.) Anyway, at the ripe age of 13, I stumbled apon an singer, Lana Del Rey. I’ve listened to her since. Miss Lana is a bit controversial, she became a religion on tik tok as a joke, tried witchcraft against Trump, etc. The point is, before this class the only thing i knew about Sylvia Plath was that she was a poet. And I knew that solely because in one of Lana’s songs, “Hope is a Dangerous thing for a Woman Like me to have”, one of the lines is -

“ I’ve been tearing around in my fucking nightgown

24/7 Sylvia Plath

Writing in blood on the walls

‘Cause the ink in my pen don’t work in my notepad”

And I was listening to it, thinking, “ What’s a Sylvia Plath?” then proceeded to a short lived google research of her which ended once I found out she was a poet. I was pretty excited that she was one of the poets we were reading, so I could get more into her work. I practically used Lana Del Reys “atheistic” as a visual for the cartoon looking people I drew, attempting to joke about the highs and lows of a rising musician. I feel like most crash and burn at the end, and all of it is just chaos. I feel like Sylvia Plath was a poet of chaos. We read a lot about the bee poems, but in a lot of her work, I feel like she’s referencing to her own self-destruction. I could honestly go on a lot about that. I think all artists, poets, singers, writers, have a little bit of self destruction, some extra pain. That’s just because we have to get it out, in music, on paper, etc. The good and the bad. That’s what i attempted with my portfolio so far. It’s unfinished and sloppy, but it’s kinda fun so here she is. ( Also, just as a warning- there is images referring to drug and alcohol usage, so if that’s triggering in any way, apologizes and please scroll past! ) 

[introtopoetrydrk]

JanaBrownGriffith

BLK History Month

BY NIKKI GIOVANNI

If Black History Month is not

viable then wind does not

carry the seeds and drop them

on fertile ground

rain does not

dampen the land

and encourage the seeds

to root

sun does not

warm the earth

and kiss the seedlings

and tell them plain:

You’re As Good As Anybody Else

You’ve Got A Place Here, Too

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Sylvia Plath , a poem

Sprit of the wood, buzzing with the bees

Your soul is good ,stark like the trees. Misunderstood , your efforts are not forgotten by me.

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Victoria D.

In today's class, the poem I took the most liking to was Good Bones. This is because it speaks a truth that must be heard and understood by parents. That you have to instill a love for life in your children, or they will suffer a great sadness in life. But in the same coin, you cannot hide your children from the world forever or it will create an ill-adjusted adult. You must do a balance as best you can but in the age of the internet that Is very hard to do. It reminds me of how I saw the world as a child, and how it was crushed a bit too early because of my father's cancer diagnosis and subsequent death a few years later. Watching him struggle opened my eyes to some of the pain and suffering in this world and has made me a bit of a cynic, to be honest. And even then lived most of the time will make them grow up most of the time, you just have to try and not make them grow up as fast.

In all honest sake the main reason I relate to this poem so much is it reminds me of myself and how much I've changed since my dad died, he turned to protect me from the evils of life but instead was the person who made me realize them the most

I hear your hushed voice in the night, afraid of your final glimpse at the light. But I know your faith in the lord is strong, but even then your fears may be stronger if they go on for too long.

In inspiration from this, I'm going to put a short poem here.

Daddy, I'm no fool

I know when I'm in school your crying in pain because your body is ending in a cruel long way. But I get home from that long lonely cold bus ride, there you are , happy as always, waiting to know everything I learned.

But you can't hide from me the suffering behind your eyes. You can't hide the dread I know that your gonna die. You can't hide much from me, you're a part of me, I saw your moves from when I was little, and im, not a fool.

Mama is mad at your decision, but your stand your ground with your stubborn admission of fear . you won't change your mind about anything your fear, even for the women you love most dear.

The day we buried you, that was the first time I saw grandma cry, her only baby, now a pile of ash in a cold churchyard. I promised Mama is keeping an eye on her, she misses her baby so much, she talks about you every time I'm on the phone with her.

Daddy, I'm no fool, I know you loved me more than I could ever understand, but why didn't you feel that way about you?

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Im probably going to do something with art, I just haven't decided exactly what I want to do yet, but defiantly on the creative side. 

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Personally, I’ve never wrote any poetry. I think it’s beautiful, correlating to art. In the sense that it doesn’t have to be correct, there is no right answer. It’s simply an expression of emotion. I’m excited to get to study poetry deeper, possibly get to write my own.

#PoetrywithDrK #submission

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I have noticed I did not put my name with the previous post that I posted. So the one with no name is mine. This semester, I would like to gind out new poets and perhaps new techniques to put into my writing.

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What poetry is to me— by Savannah Pimentel.

To me, poetry is a love language. It can be used to express emotion and show passion as much as any other term of endearment. However, poetry can also be heart wrenching. The meaning of poetry is up to the reader, and can be open to interpretation. I like that I can read the same poem time and time again and yet each time the poem seems to be different, depending on my mood. Poetry can be inspirational, or tragic, that’s why I love poetry.

This semester, I would like to open my mind to other interpretations of poetry as well as learning about poets that I have never had the honor of reading their work. I look forward to studying poetry with all of you!

Best of luck.

#PoetryWithDrK #123Icebreaking

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A poem from today // Sky Angel

I wake up every day at seven

Like a natural clock backed up by coffee

Same scenery but I need different

Funny how repetitiveness can suffocate you slowly

Lucky for me I have a gut feeling

Somthing will change but it’s testing my patience



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Poetry inspired by class today by Sky Angel

I was told at fourteen by someone were only 45 seconds of my life

In comparison of a lifetime it was nothing

Not even a full minute

It hits 3:26 am four years later and I lay in my bed and wish

That there were only 45 seconds left on my timeline

In comparison to a lifetime that seems exhausting to live

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Victoria Dobson

When your kids aren't getting good bones