Poems

I like writing poems from time to time. Writing poetry is like therapy. You let your emotions out (and I'm better at writing them out than speaking them out), and it gets your mind of whatever is bothering at the time by focusing on the poem (choosing the right words, structure etc). I have a bunch at home, and I'll probably post some of them later, but this is one I wrote for school. We had to pick a current issue (I picked abortion), and write a poem about it.

The Tears of Isis

Isis weeps,
Mourning her lost children
Stolen from her protective embrace
By the surgeon’s knife.

Isis weeps
For every last one,
Each as unique as a star of the heavens.
The earth will never know another of its kind.

Isis weeps
For Man’s apathy at those
Trained in the art of saving life,
But repeating the art of Moloch.

Isis weeps
At the orator’s contradiction:
Defend the weak
Except for the weakest of all.

Feel free to post your own.
_________________

Where sky and water meet,
Where the waves grow sweet,
Doubt not, Reepicheep,
To find all you seek,
There is the utter east.

Another poem I wrote for school.

The Creeping Wood

(Scene: The messenger, barely believing his eyes, informs Macbeth of the approaching forest.)

My lord! My lord!
The Birnam wood doth move!
The trees have stirred,
And their roots from the ground removed.

Hath legends come alive,
And bed-time tales proved true?
For I hath seen dryads dancing forth,
And trees walk where they once grew.

Hath I – but for a moment –
Gone stark mad?
Or doth mine eyes decieve me
To view omens bad?

Thy face relieves me,
For I see on it likewise dread.
Thus proves that madness
Hath not taken sanity’s stead.

Though, my lord,
Why doth though blanch?
What news doth this bring,
This moving bark and branch?

_________________

Where sky and water meet,
Where the waves grow sweet,
Doubt not, Reepicheep,
To find all you seek,
There is the utter east.

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