Fourth grade Kym was stressed out. But I’m pretty sure this poem was actually written in third grade because that’s when we moved, my sister moved, my other sister came out, and my big sister from Big Brothers/Big Sisters moved away.
So, yeah.
Here is a low quality little-kid-Kym poem that makes little sense. It is the epitome of telling, not showing.
Stressed Out
That’s it!
I can’t take it any more!
This is just too much!
I’m a mouse
hiding from a cat.
My sister is moving to Georgia,
I’ve got to pack, we’re moving.
I’m a rabbit,
sprinting away from a fox.
I’m going to scream!
My life’s too hard.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Haikuuuu! - PEDM VIII
Today is a Haiku day! I love Haiku days! :D
Haiku
Birds are polka dots
On the cotton candy sky
As the red sun sets.
Haiku
Birds are polka dots
On the cotton candy sky
As the red sun sets.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Sunset - PEDM 7
Last poem for today.
This one is also from little-kid-Kym.
It's called Sunset. I don't think I've watched very many sunsets and certainly didn't watch one when writing this. I just had a good imagination.
Sunset
I watch the sun
sink behind the mountains
The sky turns pink
and purple with a streak of indigo.
A bird flaps out of a tree,
glides over the white tipped mountains
and slowly vanishes with the colors.
(Yup. I pretended I watched a poem fly until it went over a mountain. That would be a very long time. Haha.)
This one is also from little-kid-Kym.
It's called Sunset. I don't think I've watched very many sunsets and certainly didn't watch one when writing this. I just had a good imagination.
Sunset
I watch the sun
sink behind the mountains
The sky turns pink
and purple with a streak of indigo.
A bird flaps out of a tree,
glides over the white tipped mountains
and slowly vanishes with the colors.
(Yup. I pretended I watched a poem fly until it went over a mountain. That would be a very long time. Haha.)
My Sister - PEDM 6
This poem is kind of dumb.
But it's important because it's a certain time in my life which had a huge significance on me because I lost my sister, my house, my cat, and my big sister from Big Brothers/Big Sisters.
It was a tough year for me.
Anyway, here is little kid Kym writing about My Sister.
My Sister
My sister moved away.
She rarely writes or calls me.
I wish she would more often.
I used to cry every day,
But now I rarely do.
I want her back because
She's my sister.
P.S. If you're my mother reading this, please don't post it places. And don't make a big deal about it. And don't read it to people. It'll annoy my greatly.
Thanks.
But it's important because it's a certain time in my life which had a huge significance on me because I lost my sister, my house, my cat, and my big sister from Big Brothers/Big Sisters.
It was a tough year for me.
Anyway, here is little kid Kym writing about My Sister.
My Sister
My sister moved away.
She rarely writes or calls me.
I wish she would more often.
I used to cry every day,
But now I rarely do.
I want her back because
She's my sister.
P.S. If you're my mother reading this, please don't post it places. And don't make a big deal about it. And don't read it to people. It'll annoy my greatly.
Thanks.
The Cycle of Poetry - PEDM 5
Another poem by 5th-grade-Kym. This one is about poetry. I have a few of those. :)
Anyway, I kind of love this poem. Even though it is a bit too wordy.
The Cycle of Poetry
Poetry isn't simple
the words upon the page.
It's deeper
Look inside of you
There you'll find the meaning
Each word is a clue;
Solve the mysteries of life
discover poet's thoughts,
the secrets of her heart,
the gifts of knowledge
she passes on to you.
Anyway, I kind of love this poem. Even though it is a bit too wordy.
The Cycle of Poetry
Poetry isn't simple
the words upon the page.
It's deeper
Look inside of you
There you'll find the meaning
Each word is a clue;
Solve the mysteries of life
discover poet's thoughts,
the secrets of her heart,
the gifts of knowledge
she passes on to you.
Sunset - PEDM 4
I'm going to be posting to catch up. It's been a busy week. It'll be a busy month. This COULD happen a lot...
Anyway, this is a poem I wrote in 5th grade.
It pretends to be a haiku because it's 3 lines.
It's not a haiku.
Sunset
Snow tipped hills
are painted pink
to match the tinted sky
Anyway, this is a poem I wrote in 5th grade.
It pretends to be a haiku because it's 3 lines.
It's not a haiku.
Sunset
Snow tipped hills
are painted pink
to match the tinted sky
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Sneaker. - PEDM 3
This is another poem from fifth grade Kym. This is one of my funnier poems. I quite like it, but it makes me feel weird reading it out loud. Like it’s not my words?
I’m not sure. That makes no sense.
Anyway, here it is.
Note: My feet are not smelly.
Sneaker
A white sneaker hibernates
underneath my bed,
not moving, silent,
as if hiding
from my smelly foot
I’m not sure. That makes no sense.
Anyway, here it is.
Note: My feet are not smelly.
Sneaker
A white sneaker hibernates
underneath my bed,
not moving, silent,
as if hiding
from my smelly foot
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Snowglobe
Well, I failed PEDM already! Completely forgot yesterday.
But that's alright! I'll post one tonight as well. :)
Anyway, here is a poem from 5th grade Kym.
Note: I don't think I've ever owned or spent much time looking at a snowglobe.
Snowglobe
The great bluster has ended
Houses an treetops
glistening with snow
as the last flurry settles.
But, a quick flick of my wrist
and the blizzard begins again.
But that's alright! I'll post one tonight as well. :)
Anyway, here is a poem from 5th grade Kym.
Note: I don't think I've ever owned or spent much time looking at a snowglobe.
Snowglobe
The great bluster has ended
Houses an treetops
glistening with snow
as the last flurry settles.
But, a quick flick of my wrist
and the blizzard begins again.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
My Personal Definition of Poetry - PEDM I
I have been a poet for as long as I can remember. I was put into the "Gifted and Talented" program when I was extremely young (although, I think it might just be because I was a disturbed little child and they figured I should get out of the room more.) This program worked like this:
7:50-8:00 : Regular morning class.
8:00-10:30 : Sit in front of a computer and pretend to write poetry for the first 2.4 hours. Write a few lines in the last .1 of the time.
10:30-11:30 : Get poetry looked at by teacher. Be intimidated. Possibly cry. Go back to computer in corner of room and edit. Try to steal lollipop from closet next to you.
11:30-12:00 : Lunch
12:00-2:00 : Do math problems. Be confused.
I was in this program for four years, as I started my 2nd grade year and continued until I went to middle school. At middle school I had a similar situation, but I wasn't allowed to do both math and poetry, so I dropped the math.
Getting off topic, here. My point is: I wrote poems from a very young age. It has always been a part of me. When I'm inspired, I drop what I'm doing and write down a few lines or just an idea and pick it up in a few days, or sometimes weeks, when it has sat in the back of my mind long enough for something to be formulated.
Anyway, on to what this blog was supposed to be about.
I'm currently doing a unit in poetry in AP Language and Literature. One of the short answer prompts was "Your personal definition of what poetry is and a short paragraph explaining."
So this is what I wrote:
“Poetry is a form of expression that uses rhythm, pauses, emphasis,
and sometimes rhyme to convey a story or emotion to its reader.”
Some people believe that poems are just stories broken up in weird ways, and to some extent, that is true. However, if a poem means more to you than just words, or if you study poetry, you’ll see that there’s a bit more behind it. I happened to write a poem about what poetry meant to me in seventh grade.
Poetry
A way to express my feelings,
To let it all out.
A way to tell everything,
To those willing to think.
To me a poem is more than the words. It’s what you don’t say. It’s the hidden meanings. It’s the emotion someone feels when reading it. It’s the way the rhythm works to make you look at one word, and have it mean more than what a dictionary can tell you about it. Poetry is hidden expression.
7:50-8:00 : Regular morning class.
8:00-10:30 : Sit in front of a computer and pretend to write poetry for the first 2.4 hours. Write a few lines in the last .1 of the time.
10:30-11:30 : Get poetry looked at by teacher. Be intimidated. Possibly cry. Go back to computer in corner of room and edit. Try to steal lollipop from closet next to you.
11:30-12:00 : Lunch
12:00-2:00 : Do math problems. Be confused.
I was in this program for four years, as I started my 2nd grade year and continued until I went to middle school. At middle school I had a similar situation, but I wasn't allowed to do both math and poetry, so I dropped the math.
Getting off topic, here. My point is: I wrote poems from a very young age. It has always been a part of me. When I'm inspired, I drop what I'm doing and write down a few lines or just an idea and pick it up in a few days, or sometimes weeks, when it has sat in the back of my mind long enough for something to be formulated.
Anyway, on to what this blog was supposed to be about.
I'm currently doing a unit in poetry in AP Language and Literature. One of the short answer prompts was "Your personal definition of what poetry is and a short paragraph explaining."
So this is what I wrote:
“Poetry is a form of expression that uses rhythm, pauses, emphasis,
and sometimes rhyme to convey a story or emotion to its reader.”
Some people believe that poems are just stories broken up in weird ways, and to some extent, that is true. However, if a poem means more to you than just words, or if you study poetry, you’ll see that there’s a bit more behind it. I happened to write a poem about what poetry meant to me in seventh grade.
Poetry
A way to express my feelings,
To let it all out.
A way to tell everything,
To those willing to think.
To me a poem is more than the words. It’s what you don’t say. It’s the hidden meanings. It’s the emotion someone feels when reading it. It’s the way the rhythm works to make you look at one word, and have it mean more than what a dictionary can tell you about it. Poetry is hidden expression.
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