Free Verse Poem

Tear It Down
Jack Gilbert

We find out the heart only by dismantling what
the heart knows. By redefining the morning,
we find a morning that comes just after darkness.
We can break through marriage into marriage.
By insisting on love we spoil it, get beyond
affection and wade mouth-deep into love.
We must unlearn the constellations to see the stars.
But going back toward childhood will not help.
The village is not better than Pittsburgh.
Only Pittsburgh is more than Pittsburgh.
Rome is better than Rome in the same way the sound
of raccoon tongues licking the inside walls
of the garbage tub is more than the stir
of them in the muck of the garbage. Love is not
enough. We die and are put into the earth forever.
We should insist while there is still time. We must
eat through the wildness of her sweet body already
in our bed to reach the body within that body. 

Shadow · Benjamin Moore 2117-30

She stood there, staring

At the bitter rope she

Clutched with both her

Hands.

She kept telling herself

It was going to be fine

She shunned when she

Should have shone.

But in her mind

She was only a

Shadow.

The red light indicates

She must start talking

To the video camera.

She starts by apologizing;

Saying sorry to everyone

She can think of.

“I’m sorry Dad, I didn’t

meet your expectations”

A heavy tear rolls down

Her cheek

And she sobs.

“I’m sorry Mom, I’m not

strong enough”

And she sobs.

To the girls with short skirts

Tight shirts and

Push up bras

She apologized

For not being

Pretty enough

For them.

To her only friend

She apologized

For never speaking up

For following the rest

For changing

Her essence.

To her math teacher

She apologized

For not understanding

And lowering her grade

For being distracted

For over thinking

Her own death

She apologized to

Everyone

And

Everyone

Forgave her

Except for one person

Herself.

The rope was hanging

From the ceiling

Waiting

Calling her

Luring her in.

No more pain

No more sleepless nights

No more pressure

No more shame

It said.

She wondered

What’s beyond

The sky?

Will she see the

Light

When she’s in

The shadows?

The red light

Was turned off

And she knew

It was the time

To be free.

She looked up and called His name

Once.

And she flew

Far away

Away from the darkness

From the shadows

Where I am From.

bearfoot. that's how I roll.

I am from cholados, mamonas, and lechonas.

(must-eat in my small town)

From the freshly made orange juice in the break of dawn.

I am from the biggest tree in the world 

and red roses on Valentine's Day.

I am from horseback riding in the midst of twilight

And jumping in the pool when everyone’s asleep.

I am from the road between Bogotá and Villavicencio,

Pony Malta, Postobón, and Juan Valdes

From ayude a bajar el mercado and no pelee con su hermana.

I am from the suitcase full of Christmas gifts

And Avianca tickets to only one destiny.

From los 40 Principales, la Mega, and a Kia Sportage.

I am from hammocks and a good book on a Sunday afternoon.

From Dad’s deep talks and guiding words.

I am from Jesus and my caring angel, my grandpa.

From Mom’s strength and unfailing faith.

 I am from Villavicencio and Menegua, arepas, caldito y chocolate.

From my Dad’s Sunday morning breakfast.

I am from the day after a good parrando llanero

(the best parties I've ever been to)

When everything is quiet because everyone’s asleep.

I am from bonfires and horror stories underneath the warm branches of my tree.

From the most beautiful sunsets in the world,
To the endless starred skies
And the best memories in the most remote place on earth

I am from digital picture frames

Telling our lives, 3 seconds 

at a time.

I am from pictures where there's too many people

and someone usually gets cut off. 

I am from tight hugs and longing eyes

I am from crying when I say good-bye

And promising my return

Because I can never wait 

For the time when I'll be back

To where 

I belong. 

I love to dance with my horse!!!! don't deny it... you loved it!

Heartbreak: A Poetry Notebook

Heartbreak

Selected by Angelica Franco

Description

Poets use heartbreak as a motivation that strives them to create great pieces of literature that speak to people’s hearts and what they’re going through.

Synopsis

How hard it is to lose the one you love and not being able to do anything about it.

Poetry:

·      After Love by Sara Taesdale

·      Apart by Louis Simpson

·      When We Two Parted by George Gordon Byron

·      To Earthward by Robert Frost

·      This was Once a Love Poem by Jane Hirshfield

·      One Art by Elizabeth Bishop

·      Departure by Edna St. Vincent Millay

·      If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda

What is Wrong With Society

Trayvon Martin was a normal kid; he had friends and a loving family. One night, he was walking from the convenience store carrying a soda and skittles––he was wearing a black hoodie–– when Mr. Zimmerman shot and killed him. George Zimmerman claimed the unarmed teenager looked suspicious and that he was acting in self-defense. Prejudice is evident in today's society. Trayvon Martin didn’t deserve to be killed based on a prejudice. Society needs to stop judging based on appearances, because eventually our prejudice will lead to injustice; when we act based on our suspicion and our fear of the unknown––like Mr. Zimmerman–– we make irremediable mistakes.

I think that individuals have the responsibility to stand up for the cause they believe in. Everyone has the right to feel safe––and in cases like this––you wonder where our justice is gone, when the police’s good judgment seems to be absent in our present day life. I can relate this to when NYPD gave advice to women so they wouldn’t get sexually harassed, “Women shouldn’t wear short skirts because they could get raped”

This shows that we live in a society that teaches women how not to get raped instead of teaching men NOT to rape? Society, are you going to teach us how not to get killed by not wearing hoodies in the night? I wonder, are you going to teach us how NOT to get killed by not wearing hoodies in the night?

In Martin’s case I believe gender stereotype played a big role. Young, black guy, walking in the in the night: Mr. Zimmerman misjudged this innocent civilian, and took his life. Society today lives with hate. Hate is a disease; it pervades the minds of people and when we act upon it we make mistakes. Today this man is not behind bars, you can call it corruption and injustice; if the policemen are not fair, whom can we trust? They make sure all of us follow the law, but they aren’t following it. If we can’t trust them, whom can we trust?

Snow and Fire in One Day

The opportunity to find out more about the Radley’s had come. Scout and I couldn’t let it pass. The effort we’ve been trying to make to assimilate the behavior of the bizarre family might be paying off now. Atticus has come back from the Radley house. It’s was our chance to ask him.

“Atticus,” Scout said, “did you see Mr. Arthur?”

I was suddenly scared when a short time elapsed and he wouldn’t answer. He didn’t quite approve of our interrogations and curiosity about Boo Radley. But, the opportunity was there and the question was–– In fact–– imminent. 

The reason why Atticus went to the Radley house was because Mrs. Radley had just passed. Even though it might sound like a calamity we weren’t really affected by it.

Incredibly, instead of the sweltering Maycomb heat, there was snow. People like Mr. Avery blamed us for this drastic change of weather; he believed the kids conspired to behave bad and eventually cause a change in the weather. Personally, I don’t see this weather change as a tragedy since we didn’t have school.

            Scout and I build a snowman meticulously with the features of Mr. Avery. Once Atticus found out, he was in dissension because it looked like Mr. Avery too much, and he could take it as an insult. That’s when Ms. Maude came out–– miraculously stopped lionizing her garden–– and talked to Atticus about her disagreeing with the building of a Snowman with such proximity to Mr. Avery.

            It was a very fun day, until I was abruptly awoken by the voice of Atticus telling me to come outside. I couldn’t quite apprehend why at first–– It was late at night–– it made no sense. When I walked outside and realized Ms. Maude’s house was on fire, I expected the whole town to be in a state of anarchy, but to my disbelief everyone was working together to save what we could from the raging fire. Thoughts raced through my head–– I wanted to help–– but Atticus’ order to stay in front of the Radley’s had me shackled to the earth. This was nobody’s fault, nobody could be arraigned because of this, nobody could be blamed, but regardless of that, the whole town was helping out. I found that very amazing.

           After the tension had lowered and we were going back home, Atticus and I noticed Scout had a blanket on her shoulders. I never put it, so it could only have been Boo Radley. I realized many things right there; Boo Radley was not really “Boo” he was Mr. Arthur, and he was a nice person.

Letter to the Lost..

Dear Lily,

     A bizarre feeling of loneliness washed over me and it was imminent I would write a letter for you––I miss you. 20 years have elapsed since the last time I saw you and I know that what I'm about to say will be hard to assimilate, but try to be apprehensive, we both know our situation is still compromised.
     My life has been shackled to the reality of our times––dissension and hatred are still prominent in South Carolina. I wish I could move to New York and find you, but I get more and more requests to serve as people's lawyer everyday that leaving everything at this point would be calamitous move and it would leave my office in a state of anarchy.
     What I want you to know is, as much as I love my job, I don't feel complete––I need you. Even though this is hard to get across––you might think interrogating and arraigning criminals to justice would make me more than happy–– I feel empty without you. I made a promise that I would look for you––and I will––it's just not the right time, and I'm sorry.
     In case you haven't heard about August she is doing great, her honet sales have tripled and she's retiring soon to spend more time with her niece September––June and Neil's little girl––she's a sweet pea!
     Lily Owens, you have my heart, every summer as I trace back to the moments we had, I realize they've been the happiest days of my life. South Carolina has become nothing but more hot and sweltering every summer but in my heart it's always winter without you. All I can say at this point is thank you for stepping into my life, you changed me. You changed all of us. I ratify my promise tonight, I'll go find you, Lily Owens.

Love,

Zach