FC: Poetry Portfolio | Brandy Clower's
1: Sentences start short and sweet, like darts, For Jack and Jill and mark the beginning of language arts. As the drama grows and the mind expands, Paragraphs hum like garage bands. Older and more complicated still, Frost perches near my window sill. Poetry approaches and sneaks up from behind, Posing a threat to the apathetic mind. Onomatopoeias BOOM, As vocabulary expands to fill the room. Twenty pages marked my last story of short, It was an intricate essay on the morality of court. And so it comes to be, As language arts develops rapidly, It goes from Jack and Jill, To a discussion on the morality of a kill! | A B C D E F G | by Brandy Clower
3: People are always watching, No matter what they say. If you tell me that I’m pretty, How do you think I got this way? Makeup in the morning! Check the mirror in the hall! Because people are always watching, Your every little flaw! Inner beauty is a good thing to have So that the others keep you around But without a chance to get past your face, That inner beauty may never be found. Because, This world is just as shallow As we like to pretend it’s not First impressions are fatal So please, take care of what you’ve got. | how it really works | brandy clower's
4: BEEP. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. The alarm sounds, 4:30 AM. I crawl from my room to the kitchen, And wonder how my day will begin. The light above the oven flickers on. The cereal begins to pour. And I accidentally spill the juice on the counter, While letting out a tiny snore. The refrigerator’s light exposes all, As I put the jug back in its place. Patrick’s green hoodie [that I wear as a robe] And my sleepy looking face. The counters are all an off-white Speckled with bits of dirt The cow that was slaughtered for our dinner I wonder if it hurt? At last, my mother has followed me down, To start the morning in our liar We both sigh over our cereal, And run our hands through our hair. | My Mother's Kitchen.
6: And although, You keep me up through endless nights, And bear me against the storms You draw black purple under my eyes, And freeze me when I’m warm- I’ll stay And let you make it hard on me, Go on and force me through the night Because when it’s a challenge that I’ve won I know I’m doing something right. School, you Have things I couldn’t get any other place You teach me things I hope to never use again You showed me what I hope to make my career And you introduced me to best [boy] friend Sure, I’ll Gripe and moan and fuss and groan, But I like to think that after it’s all said and done I’ll look back at you, GSMST And know that I’ve won. | and ALTHOUGH... Brandy Clower
7: MY BEARD Shel Silverstein My beard grows down to my toes, I never wears no clothes, I wraps my hair Around my bare, And down the road I goes. | THE WORST Shel Silverstein When singing songs of scariness Of bloodiness and hairiness I feel obligated at this moment to remind you Of the most ferocious beast of all Three thousand pounds and nine feet tall The Glurpy Sklurpy Skakagrall That's standing right behind you