Category: Poem

the weight of an almond- a poem

an almond weighs as much as an almost
when it sits in your hand, brown, guileless
and when it crunches in between your teeth
and leaves its skin in your smile

almonds are the past;
the smell of a kitchen, the taste of flaky pastries,
the bitter tang of things left unsaid

almonds are untrue; 
they want to be nuts, but they are not. 
only i know the truth. i hold it close to my chest

almonds are cultivated;
they’re not found in the wild anymore,
we keep them to ourselves selfishly, we do not share

almonds are slow;
give them time, let them sprout into a beauty
or hold them tight to your chest and watch them rot

maybe next time i hold an almond, i will throw it out into the world
or maybe i will crunch it again
and let my teeth stain almond-skin-brown with regret.

I wrote this for the Scholastic Art and Writing competition and got a silver key!

The Moon

The Moon is New
new, just like we become on this night,
ready to embark on a journey of the self
ready to be born anew, be reformed into a better you

The Moon Grows
a call to action- be bright, shine,
it serves as a reminder that change is
possible, that we are everchanging and glowing

The Moon Pauses
yet, it is not the time for us to do the same
it is time to act, to push, to strengthen yourself
grow, just as the moon does. thrive.

The Moon Waxes
it is time. almost time for change, for brightness,
for festivities. but not yet. prove yourself. finish
what you must. and then, find yourself on the side of joy.

The Moon is Full
it lights the dark, a beacon of hope and
change. transformation blooms as the 
moon of dreams rises over the fields of truth

The Moon Wanes
the fading of light, to some, but in reality,
it is simply a calling, a reminder for one
to look within and reflect. be one with the person you are

The Moon is Half
it is time, one might say, to let go
the cycle is almost complete, it is about
to reset. but not yet. let your worries go. then, breathe.

The Moon Shrinks
turn inwards. think of yourself.
as we get ready to begin again, contemplate
then, take a deep breath, and let the moon grow.

Summer: A Poem

Summer is
Hot days, too hot to even think about going outside

Summer is
the blast of the AC- no wait, too cold now

Summer is
jellies and ice-creams and too-sweet drinks

Summer is
watching awful movies you’ve seen before just to laugh

Summer is
new projects started and old ones continued, so much to do,

Summer is
fun.

🙂

Spring

Since spring is now officially here, I wrote a poem about it. This is a sestina, made up of 6 stanzas, each stanza ending with the same words in different orders. I hope you enjoy!

It’s spring again
The flowers bloom, the birds chirp
Rain patters on the windows
The season of life,
that’s what spring is known for
beauty, not just in the eye of the beholder, but everywhere

The greenest trees, everywhere
Saturated by the rain again
whimsy bleeds through for
just a moment, as the chirp
of new life 
echoes outside the windows

The spring breeze, crisp, clean, wafts through the window
And for a second, everywhere
is united, under the life
and love of a new spring again,
where the buzz and chirp
just signify the land we all live for

Spring is cleansing, for
finally there are no cold gusts against the window
just the melodic chirp
that echoes from everywhere
Yes, beginning a new season again
truly brings some kind of life

And everywhere you see, the earth erupts with life
with no concession for
the ones who wish for winter again
The pollen will still coat your window,
maybe it gets everywhere,
but that is just the price to pay for another chirp

Life grows anew when you hear that tiny chirp
proof that spring brings life,
that spring brings joy everywhere
not just for one, but for
all, so open your window
and embrace the magic of spring come again

When you hear the first chirps of the season, winter is done for
Life blooms outside the windows 
and everywhere is bathed in the light of spring again

Where I’m From- Holden Caulfield

Recently, for my English class, we wrote a poem based on “Where I’m From” by George Ella Lyon and based on Holden Caulfield, the main character of “Catcher in the Rye” by J.D. Salinger. I hope you enjoy my poem!

I am from boarding schools
from cigarette smoke and rain
I am from fencing competitions
(loud, angry,
everyone’s disappointment as sharp as the swords)
I am from the vastness of DB’s room compared to the smallness of Phoebe’s
the unable-to-be-placed smell of home
whose indecisiveness I remember
as if I was standing there right now

I’m from phony steak and odd hats
from Allie and Phoebe
I’m the not-good-enoughs and the geniuses-of-our-time
from try harder and life is a game
I’m from Grace be with you all
with friends that make you feel warm and fuzzy
and essays about your brother’s baseball glove

I’m from touchy fathers and nervous mothers
malted milk and a swiss cheese sandwich.
From the cancer that spread through my brother’s small body,
the words and phrases that are piled onto my sister’s pages.
At the back of my brain lie my memories
hidden from both the world and myself
a handful of stars
whose light has been forced to dull.
I am from those shattered shards of time
broken before I was even born
distancing myself from the person I was and the person I am meant to be.

Imaginary Friend: A Poem

I wrote a poem for the prompt ‘Imaginary Friend’. I hope you enjoy!

they want me to hate you
they want me to be rid
they want me to not love you
anymore

i could never hate you
i could never lose you
i will always love you
for evermore

but they want me to hate you
they tell me to be rid
they force me to not love you
anymore

i tell them i can’t hate you
i promise them i’d never lose you
and i swear i will always love you
for evermore

Did you have an imaginary friend growing up?

The Jack of Hearts: a Poem

I recently tried a prompt about pulling a card from a deck and writing a poem based on that card. My card was the Jack of Hearts, which represents young love and playfulness. I hope you enjoy the poem I wrote!

The Jack of Hearts walks eagerly along a path,
plays with his crowns, tossing it
up, down, up down.
He surveys the courtyard, plucks a rose,
tucks it into his hair. 
Sits on the swing, lets 
the breeze push him
back, forth, back, forth.
Lets himself relax, lets himself
hear the beat of his heart.
Lets himself feel free,
allows himself a moment to 
fall in love with the world.

A Cold Time

I wrote a poem in the style of a pantoum- a poetic form originally from Malaysia. This poem has 6 unique lines, repeated to form 3 stanzas of 4 lines each. I wrote this poem about my summer vacation in India. I hope you enjoy!

A cold time spent in India:
Ice cream dripping down chins,
Shivers of joy trailing down spines
Happiness is a blast of cold

Ice cream dripping down chins, 
Freezing hours spent in malls,
Happiness is a blast of cold
Experience life in the chill

Freezing hours spent in malls,
Shivers of joy trailing down spines
Experience life in the chill,
A cold time spent in India

I hope you enjoyed!

Hermann Park- a poem

Recently, I got to go to Hermann Park and I had a fun, relaxing day! I wrote a small poem about it, where the goal is to start with 10 words and decrease one each line, eventually ending with 1. I hope you enjoy!

a stroll through the park, a waltz on the lake,
oh, how joyous you can be if you let 
the weight of the day not weigh on 
your shoulders and instead let the ducks 
feed your joy, feed your existence,
as you drift by. be
free, be light, be
truly who you
want to 
be.

I really enjoyed being able to go to the park! I got to feed the ducks, as well as boat on the lake (on a paddleboat). I got some really cute photos and in general, had fun during this free day.

Joshua Tree National Park

Recently, we visited California, and there, we went to Joshua Tree National Park! We got to see some amazing sights and to commemorate, I wrote a poem in the style of a Golden Shovel. A Golden Shovel poem is when the ending word, usually bolded, of each line (when read from top to bottom) forms a line from another poem. In my case, I used a line from the poem, “Joshua Tree” by A.R. Ammons. I hope you enjoy!

as i stood by the
trees, the wind
whistled by, past the rounding
of the 
rocks, through the gap
of the stones and found
me
standing still there
listening to the weeping
of too-heavy branches under
the magnificence of a
true blue sky. there it was, a Joshua
tree