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L.A. Poetry Project

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S: L.A. Poems by: David Danilchuk

FC: Poetry Project David Danilchuk 20 February, 2010 pd. 0 Mrs. Glenn

1: Table of Contents 1. "Where I'm from" 2 2. "My Mother's Kitchen" 3 3. "Mother To Son" 4 4. "Ode to GSMST" 5 5. "Language Arts" 5 6. "There is Another Sky" 7 7. "Where The Side Walk Ends" 8

2: “Where I’m From” I’m from open spaces and relaxing places I’m from houses built by my parents From buses and bikes I’m from a place where there are many well known faces I’m from wide open plains Where our corn crop us our place of hiding and seek And the forest is our playground Hundreds of acres of trees being hundreds of swings I’m from a place where the city meets the farm I’m from houses held up by cement pillars And living rooms crafted by my dad I’m from a subdivision containing only my family Where sorrows and contents where shared by everyone around I’m from regular bikes as a kid And Moped and scooter bikes as a teen I’m from a place where what you have depends on what you can build I’m from work hard now and play hard later I am also from churches and bibles Where everything applies to religion And I’m okay with that Because everyone else agrees This is where I’m from

3: My Mother’s Kitchen It’s a great place to be Our kitchen was specially built The way my mother wanted it It took a lot of effort and time It cost the most to build Just think about everything that your kitchen has It’s the most visited place in the house And contains the most things as well There are forks and spoons And knives too All the cabinets and trims where personally picked out Every inch was planned and drawn I remember all the appliances we had to buy What a drag I thought But looking at it now I think it was worth it Because it is my favorite place of all From the fridge to the stove To the microwave and the trash drawer It’s a wonderful kitchen But more importantly, it’s my mother’s kitchen too

4: Mother to Son I see her everyday and she sees me Yet there is so much more than just that There are moods and feeling Some good some bad It’s hard to describe But the relationship is ever changing Although it goes through the same things It’s like a never ending cycle, yet always different every time around Sometimes it is bad Sometimes you think she says too much Other times you don’t know what she wants It’s ever so aggravating Although, there are good times too I’ve learned to go with the flow Because you know you won’t win the fight So just cooperate, and it will be alright Even after all this There is still one thing that never changes Even as you grow older and older You can’t deny it The love of a mother to son and a son to mother

5: Ode to GSMST It was you all along All the things I’ve gone through this year The sorrow and contents I owe it all to you GSMST You taught me so much And showed me things I never knew or imagined Yet you put me through so much I have never had so much distress in my whole life I have done many great accomplishments through you And gone so far I have more experience now Than I ever did before I owe this to you But you have caused me great suffering Many nights without sleep And stress beyond anything I’ve ever seen This too I owe to you GSMST Although we have gone through a lot There is still a lot more And this still going journey I will never forget Thanks to you GSMST

6: L.A. Poem Language Arts requires a lot of work It can get confusing when words lurk You must stay focused Or you get hocused Often times you find yourself in murk Be careful don’t use wrong words There are many of them, like herds You should use the aid Of a word list made But people may think your nerds Watch out for your punctuation It could become allegation Make sure to reread it It would help to have wit Like most of the population As you can see now, I hope Language arts can make you mope There are ways to master it First you must practice it Then you’ll be able to cope

7: There is another sky by Emily Dickinson There is another sky, Ever serene and fair, And there is another sunshine, Though it be darkness there; Never mind faded forests, Austin, Never mind silent fields - Here is a little forest, Whose leaf is ever green; Here is a brighter garden, Where not a frost has been; In its unfading flowers I hear the bright bee hum: Prithee, my brother, Into my garden come!

8: Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein There is a place where the sidewalk ends And before the street begins, And there the grass grows soft and white, And there the sun burns crimson bright, And there the moon-bird rests from his flight To cool in the peppermint wind. Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black And the dark street winds and bends. Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And watch where the chalk-white arrows go To the place where the sidewalk ends. Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go, For the children, they mark, and the children, they know The place where the sidewalk ends.

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