FC: My Poetry Portfolio Katherine Hardie Glenn 2nd block GSMST
1: GSMST This is an ode to thee The most wonderful academy Any can come who may want to see The Gwinnett School of Math, Science, and Technology. Hear ye, hear ye, here we don’t sleep We but work our hardest the entire week Our laptops out as we type ‘til we weep At the Gwinnett School of Math, Science, and Technology. Now don’t get me wrong; I am quite tired But with this school I have hope to be hired By the likes of Google; Apple; to be wired Into the highest paychecks and never be fired This school is lovely At least, it is to me, I yearn to learn everything, see I can at the Gwinnett School of Math, Science, and Technology!
2: I am me Unconventionality It is my personality I do not act as I ‘should’ And, though I know I could, I shan’t, for it is a pain To be judged by my hair or the paint On my nails and face Or the color of my skin; my race I am not a white I am not just light I am me I am free My clothes aren’t the best But they are comfortable- I could care less Of what others think If I do not dress in pink Because I am me I am free I have no bounds I will take my rounds From girly to not From ‘boring’ to ‘hot’ I am not a label To be stuck to the bottom of your table I am me I am free.
3: My Mother’s Kitchen The walls of a serene lime A lovely place to spend the time But for the rotting plants Off in the corner infested with ants. My mother pulls the birthday cake From the oven after it had baked The chocolate fumes filling the air The scent spilling, sweet and fair Icing is spread on the top The can opens with a loud ‘pop’ The cake now shines with icing sweet A cake large enough to last us a week The floor of white tile Is too cold to stand on for a while She leaves quickly, her coffee in hand For the warmth and softness of the forest land In the back there is the tree Large and proud and a friend to me Seen from the window of the place That my mother cooks for every race.
4: Fog The fog settles over my face Choking the light Removing my sight I know my place. My tears fall free But my eyes droop My shoulders sloop Oh, woe is me. I cough out blood My hands shake My body quakes I drown in a flood My fists clench tight My body becomes tense I fall against the fence Quivering in fright The fog covers my mouth Entering my throat Flowing like a moat Gently south.
5: Language Arts Boom, crash, yell, shout Phonics and onomatopoeias about Creating poetry and stories alike, Pulling literature and languages out of your psyche Allowing essays and books to sound like Frost Not a single idea is to be lost Comprehension is decided to the individual’s brain Taking words separate to mean love or pain Writing Reading Learning Loving This wonderful subject To which few are abject.