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By: Michaela Kim


Ballad Poem

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The Opposite Path

page 2


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The Beach

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A Girl

page 6-7

Ten Minutes

page 8-9

Contradictions (Metaphor)

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The night was young as were the guests So drinks and smiles were shared. Soon the noise got out of control And turned to fights they dared.

All the laughter suddenly ceased And fists were thrown everywhere. The flirting stopped and the drinks spilled And the eyes would just glare.

The Opposite Path Title of Work: Two Sisters (On the Terrace) Artist: Pierre Auguste Renoir

Spring has risen And the birds are calling. The vine are flowing And the breeze is whispering.

They are two sisters, Alone but together. One gazes far beyond Her curiosity craving for more. The other has satisfaction Written in her e yes. She longs for no change, She craves for nothing.

They walk off the terrace, Leaving the green behind. They walk in opposite directions, One looking for simplicity And the other looking for adventure.

The terrace of green Is their only sanctuary To be together, Before they finally part. Summer

Title of work: Surfside Park Artist: William Lewis

A day in the summer Is like a walk in the park. The people blend in Like harmony. Oh William, It truly shows.

The blotches of white From his brush, Balances the light. The stroke of blue From his brush, Completes the painting.

The grey buildings Standing far back Calls your name. Home sweet home, It whispers.

The smiles are welcoming The aurora smells peaceful, Sweet and young.

It’s a day in the summer, A day of a dream. It’s his place, It’s his home, It is he.

The Beach Title of work: Beach at Cabasson Artist: Henri Edmond Cross

They are of three Of the same mother. Their tanless skin Blend in to the pale sand.

The air is silent Only the calm waves are heard. The sky is red, The blue fading away.

Their eyes are dull, Staring off into the distance. The sand is fraud, Hard and thicker.

The shadows lay Beneath the three. The black ghosts below Wonder what’s next. It’s dusk,

It is motionless.

The sun is falling, Yet silence is still in the air. A Girl Title of work: The Girl by the Window Artist: Edward Munch

I am a girl, A girl of dreams. I sing my songs, I dream my dreams. I am a girl.

I’m a girl Staring out. I peak out, Out of the hard transparent walls. I look out, And I see the world.

My white, stainless gown

Is unmarked. Unmarked of its journeys, Clean from its lack of work.

I am a girl, Locked in my room. The door is painted And the window is my only escape. I stare beyond the distance, Beyond the yellow lights. I want to be out there I want to leave. I am a girl, And I just want to be free.

Ten Minutes

When the bell sounds, It marks the start of the next ten minutes. The next ten minutes when the snake is set free. He slinks around, place to place, with his fiery, charcoal eyes searching for my mysterious, serene ones. Within these ten minutes, everyone is Shuffling to their next destination. Within these ten minutes, he Sets out to fulfill his duty. His duty to find and to conquer. His pride and ego radiates through The corridors of the school. He makes himself known And seen. As the cold-blood passes me, his current victim, He whispering words become

Louder than the gossiping hallways. The vulgar words and the obscene comments Knife towards me, as I stare beyond This encounter avoiding his promising eyes That will never quit until the day I no longer Walk the halls of this building. It was yesterday, it is today, And it will be tomorrow.


You are‌ Black and white, Two colors so perfect But so wrong. Shining as the bright amber sparks Lighting up the dark night. Two selfish colors Chewing up and swallowing all past. Dull as the starless sky, A caution sign under radar. The taste of cheap alcohol, But the smell of smoke. A punch of the face, But the adrenaline rush.

Blurry to a perfect eye, A ring on the wrong finger. A failed final, a failed exam. The minimum passing grade

Moving you forward to the next level. Illegal music, pirated songs. But a guilty conscious to a found bill. Two papers glued together, A silent jet flying off into the night. Like eating cereal for dinner And steak for breakfast. Like an approaching rainstorm During a cloudless, humid summer day. Tangled hair with no end.

Black and white, Not the same. Two selfish colors Bouncing back and forth. Two tennis balls in one match. Black and white, Darling and horrific. Murky as a foggy lifeless light, With the full moon smiling brightly to down below. A snapshot, a photograph With no colors. A black and white photograph With nothing to give and nothing to hide. A limitation.

You are a contradiction.

This is me, this is me. What do you see? You see a girl, a girl Of five feet. A girl Of seventeen. Shy and Small, never seen. I look like you, I smell like you. I am no different. But I wear a necklace, to escape the bareness. It hangs from my neck, no longer naked. It’s silver, it’s small. It’s never noticed. To me and to everyone, it is forgotten. I am the youngest, of both sides. I am the last, their last hope. As years go on, I am placed within walls. Walls miles above. Time is ticking, and sand is running out. Disappoint roams the air. A tongue click that ruins a day. So I am the last. I am normal, just like you. Normal, but with a cross hanging. The walls are closing, with no escape. The piece of silver hanging from my neck, becomes heavier and heavier. The burdens no longer sit on my shoulders, it sits on the silver. The forgotten piece of silver I never cared for. It pulls me down as days pass by. As years pass by, this is it. This is me, this is me. What do you see? A girl of smiles, joy And laughter. A girl trying to fit in, Hoping not to be seen. This is me, this is me. The burdens pile, And the necklace Becomes too heavy. But for three years, it Has never budged.

Weight of the cross Has made me smaller. But this is my last. My last hope, From collapsing. Cookies

Forgive me, but The crime committed, I admit to.

The evidence I tossed, Fingerprints disappeared. It was irresistible.

I licked it clean, Your cookie jar. In case you were wondering, They were delicious.

I didn’t see it coming, It was small and fast. The sun was young, And so was I.

Laughs ran through the gym, I knew no one but him Then it came. Small and fast.

My eye could no longer open, Just one Not both. Pain and tears.

An older brother, A tennis ball. It’s dark, And it’s brown. It looks okay.

Only I know, And he knows,

What truly happened.

Poetry Reflection

During the poetry unit, I learned different types of ways to write a poem. I like to free write, which is the reason why I took this class, and some of my free writes have been poems. It was kind of challenging because the poems I would write would just be my words, my feelings, and very simple and direct. There were no secret meanings or any other deeper thoughts than the words I would write. It was hard to follow the directions and complete the specifics for each task, and I don’t feel confident because the majority of my written poems during this unit aren’t my real words or tone. Even so, I did learn the different ways to write a poem. I enjoyed the entire unit as a whole because it now helps me to write different poems with different voices and meanings. I can now write poems with deeper meanings. I have never been good at analyzing poems as a whole, so this unit also definitely helped me learn. My feelings about poems haven’t really changed, it still is the best way to express my emotions and feelings whatever the situation is. I have a broader feel of poems. I realize now that I don’t have to be direct with my words to show and describe how I feel or what emotions are going through me. The three poems I have chosen are my metaphor poem, my concrete poem, and my apology poem. I chose the metaphor poem because it was the poem that was the hardest for me to write. I had to write with indirect words. I chose the concrete poem because it uses my words and my thoughts. You can tell that I wrote this poem, and it describes me very well. It’s the most poem like me, and I really like that. The third poem I chose is the apology poem because its very simple and I think it’s kind of adorable.

Oh Dandy  
Oh Dandy  

Poetry Unit oh nine.