falling through the sky from 10,000 feet.
no sense of direction, strapped down to a seat.
dangerously spinning, I see the swirl,
of clouds, and birds on my descending twirl.
air is rushing past, face is getting cold.
then i see the ground of green and gold.
pain. fear. increasing dread.
searing through my body and into my head.
a tear in the bonds that strap me down,
out just in time to hit the ground.
then there was silence. no pain, no sound.
i bolt upright,
pickup my blanket,
and climb back up to the top of my bunk.
Poems
Monday, July 19, 2010
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Journey of a leaf
Growing up in joy and sorrow
A little leaf lives on a tree
Spring, summer, fall and winter
Oh, how long will your life be ...
Then one day in autumn
This little leaf turns brown
Suddenly three days later
A squirrel pushes it down
Soaring through the sunset light
Keeps on going, even at night
Soon it goes down taking a break
There it sleeps and again awakes
Continues its journey far and wide
Taking its memories by its side
Nature’s Greatest Army
This is nature’s greatest army, |
| When it comes to world war though, It can beat the tallest. |
Zillions of warriors are all around, |
These little creatures like to eat sweet, |
| Lunch, dinner, midnight snack, They are always sitting in a pack. |
| Their long rows are as black as coal, They even bore a hole through a bowl. |
| They cut, kill, and work at the mill, Though they live in a puny hill. |
| These, my friends are none other than ants. But be careful, they like your pants |
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Black
Black is a color,
As pitch as coal.
Like the darkness of night,
Creeping over your soul.
Black is a feeling,
In touch, hear, and sight,
Allowing fear,
To cover your light.
Black is also,
The vast night sky,
Letting the moon,
Shine bright and high.
Black is the pupil,
That catches the light,
That gives you the colorfull,
Sense of sight.
Black is a neutral,
Both happy and sad.
It's the beautiful space,
Or your fear ol' lad.
Black is a color,
Both good and bad.
As pitch as coal.
Like the darkness of night,
Creeping over your soul.
Black is a feeling,
In touch, hear, and sight,
Allowing fear,
To cover your light.
Black is also,
The vast night sky,
Letting the moon,
Shine bright and high.
Black is the pupil,
That catches the light,
That gives you the colorfull,
Sense of sight.
Black is a neutral,
Both happy and sad.
It's the beautiful space,
Or your fear ol' lad.
Black is a color,
Both good and bad.
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