Four Original Poems; Fear, A Drowning or Uplifting Choice, Butteflies, and The Bird Man
Question Poem- Fear
Why does fear scratch and bite at our minds?
How does fear erode the common sense of the wise and create foolish kinds?
Why does fear make one’s heart beat like a jack rabbit’s?
How does fear break and hinder a man, why these destructive habits?
Diamante Poem- A Drowning or Uplifting Choice
Revenge.
Barbaric Ugly.
Destroying, conniving: hated.
Bitterness, malice, compassion, mercy.
Forgetting, loving: sympathized
Healthy righteousness.
Forgiveness.
Free Verse Poem- Butterflies
There are many different types of butterflies, none exactly alike. All them flutter and float differently in their cages. Some tickle while some tingle. Each is attracted by something different, and their presences can range in feeling.
Fear is the black butterfly. It flies with speed and desperation, zipping and zooming in panicked bursts. It frantically flaps its wings, fearfully anticipating what’s to come. It twirls in sickening loops, plunging and rising. It performs swooping circles, taking a wild rollercoaster that tumbles and jolts.
Anger is the red butterfly. There is no grace to its flight, it is not beautiful. It pushes and shoves where it goes, an angry hurricane. It slaps its wings aggressively, ready to burst out. It grows and beats against the walls.
Sadness is the grey butterfly. It flutters pitifully, barely staying afloat. It has no vigor and moves dreadfully on. It slowly sinks, its dull wings weighing it down. It continues to slowly beat them, in sucking dragging motions, only pulling down.
Joy is the orange butterfly. It flutters gracefully in little whoops and whirls, forever rising. Its light wings tickle as they flutter happily, gaining more height. Sometimes it increases the speed of its flight, a rush of delight gusting its feathery body faster and higher.
Excitement is the green butterfly. It flies in tight little loops and circles, racing around in exhilaration. It jumps and hops, its wings flapping with incredible haste. Enthusiasm and eagerness fuel this butterfly’s flight, it cannot contain its thrill for the things it awaits.
Love is the pink butterfly. It floats almost nervously, its flight guided by that one special someone. Its wings otherwise move quietly, only stirred into action by that person’s presence. Then it takes flight, zipping and flipping in giddy loops. It twists and bobs untamed just at the thought of a person.
These are the butterflies, the strongest of the emotions, our bodies their cage.
My Original Poem Structure- The Bird Man
Repeating Poem- a poem made up of three paragraphs that contain four lines each. The first sentence of each paragraph is the same sentence and states the topic of the poem. The following three sentences follow the pattern ABA. In the last paragraph in the last line, it repeats the second half of the first line.
The Bird Man
He is not quite bird, nor is he a man, he is the Bird Man.
He lurks in the dark, down in the dank black of the basement.
He waits till the sun has gone and this is when he hunts.
Up the stairs, screeching and squawking he comes, looking for a meal replacement.
He is not quite bird, nor is he a man, he is the Bird Man.
His screech is like nails against the chalkboard, louder in volume and echoing off the walls.
Run when you hear his screech, he’s coming for you and he will take you to his nest.
Careful when you leave your bed at night, he’s lurking the halls.
He is not quite bird, nor is he a man, he is the Bird Man.
Claws like foot long knives, he uses them to slice and snatch.
His eerie red eyes glow, framed by goggles, and his thin mustache hangs from his sharp beak.
Filthy grey rags cling to his bony frame, but if he finds you, you don’t want to become his next catch.
Why does fear scratch and bite at our minds?
How does fear erode the common sense of the wise and create foolish kinds?
Why does fear make one’s heart beat like a jack rabbit’s?
How does fear break and hinder a man, why these destructive habits?
Diamante Poem- A Drowning or Uplifting Choice
Revenge.
Barbaric Ugly.
Destroying, conniving: hated.
Bitterness, malice, compassion, mercy.
Forgetting, loving: sympathized
Healthy righteousness.
Forgiveness.
Free Verse Poem- Butterflies
There are many different types of butterflies, none exactly alike. All them flutter and float differently in their cages. Some tickle while some tingle. Each is attracted by something different, and their presences can range in feeling.
Fear is the black butterfly. It flies with speed and desperation, zipping and zooming in panicked bursts. It frantically flaps its wings, fearfully anticipating what’s to come. It twirls in sickening loops, plunging and rising. It performs swooping circles, taking a wild rollercoaster that tumbles and jolts.
Anger is the red butterfly. There is no grace to its flight, it is not beautiful. It pushes and shoves where it goes, an angry hurricane. It slaps its wings aggressively, ready to burst out. It grows and beats against the walls.
Sadness is the grey butterfly. It flutters pitifully, barely staying afloat. It has no vigor and moves dreadfully on. It slowly sinks, its dull wings weighing it down. It continues to slowly beat them, in sucking dragging motions, only pulling down.
Joy is the orange butterfly. It flutters gracefully in little whoops and whirls, forever rising. Its light wings tickle as they flutter happily, gaining more height. Sometimes it increases the speed of its flight, a rush of delight gusting its feathery body faster and higher.
Excitement is the green butterfly. It flies in tight little loops and circles, racing around in exhilaration. It jumps and hops, its wings flapping with incredible haste. Enthusiasm and eagerness fuel this butterfly’s flight, it cannot contain its thrill for the things it awaits.
Love is the pink butterfly. It floats almost nervously, its flight guided by that one special someone. Its wings otherwise move quietly, only stirred into action by that person’s presence. Then it takes flight, zipping and flipping in giddy loops. It twists and bobs untamed just at the thought of a person.
These are the butterflies, the strongest of the emotions, our bodies their cage.
My Original Poem Structure- The Bird Man
Repeating Poem- a poem made up of three paragraphs that contain four lines each. The first sentence of each paragraph is the same sentence and states the topic of the poem. The following three sentences follow the pattern ABA. In the last paragraph in the last line, it repeats the second half of the first line.
The Bird Man
He is not quite bird, nor is he a man, he is the Bird Man.
He lurks in the dark, down in the dank black of the basement.
He waits till the sun has gone and this is when he hunts.
Up the stairs, screeching and squawking he comes, looking for a meal replacement.
He is not quite bird, nor is he a man, he is the Bird Man.
His screech is like nails against the chalkboard, louder in volume and echoing off the walls.
Run when you hear his screech, he’s coming for you and he will take you to his nest.
Careful when you leave your bed at night, he’s lurking the halls.
He is not quite bird, nor is he a man, he is the Bird Man.
Claws like foot long knives, he uses them to slice and snatch.
His eerie red eyes glow, framed by goggles, and his thin mustache hangs from his sharp beak.
Filthy grey rags cling to his bony frame, but if he finds you, you don’t want to become his next catch.