alethea-westlund - Hello Poetry

I hear whistling from down below Every second it get's louder Warning me that it'll get too hot The dial turns and the flames go out The water falls out of the spout in a steamy line Trickling into the desired mug Patience is a game now Waiting, and watching the leaves unfurl And release the flavor so pleasant A scent either sweet or bitter And a color so earthly How could anyone resist a cuppa?

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Oct 2, 2013

Oct 2, 2013 at 2:02 AM UTC

Boiled Leaves

I hear whistling from down below Every second it get's louder Warning me that it'll get too hot The dial turns and the flames go out The water falls out of the spout in a steamy line Trickling into the desired mug Patience is a game now Waiting, and watching the leaves unfurl And release the flavor so pleasant A scent either sweet or bitter And a color so earthly How could anyone resist a cuppa?

12

I always thought I was special At least that's what I was told The burden of expectations brought me down I compare myself to others Probably too much, but I look at what they have Scholarships for art, music, sports, science I'm none of those My pen and paper are tucked away My painting wasn't a Mona Lisa smiling Nor was it an exact replica of the London Bridge made out of toothpicks I sat in the back trying to figure out what note came next I asked the teacher to tune my own violin I sat out of most games and was told constantly that I would play in the game More of a waiting game I would see how warm and dry I could keep a bench What talents did I have? Well society told me I had none I can make people happy but also annoy them in the same process Trying to keep up with today and tomorrow Buying coffee so that they would see past my flaws I'm still searching for that talent that I can be know for.

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Apr 15, 2013

Apr 15, 2013 at 12:46 AM UTC

Special

I always thought I was special At least that's what I was told The burden of expectations brought me down I compare myself to others Probably too much, but I look at what they have Scholarships for art, music, sports, science I'm none of those My pen and paper are tucked away My painting wasn't a Mona Lisa smiling Nor was it an exact replica of the London Bridge made out of toothpicks I sat in the back trying to figure out what note came next I asked the teacher to tune my own violin I sat out of most games and was told constantly that I would play in the game More of a waiting game I would see how warm and dry I could keep a bench What talents did I have? Well society told me I had none I can make people happy but also annoy them in the same process Trying to keep up with today and tomorrow Buying coffee so that they would see past my flaws I'm still searching for that talent that I can be know for.

21

Let your mind wonder Society is not an issue right now Create your own world There is a beginning, there's always one But there doesn't have to be an end You're the entertainer for yourself. Imagine, a world. No? Imagine a planet? You can make what you want Share it, you won't be called crazy Aren't we all? A walking bunch of mad men with stories Keep them to yourself, share them. Become inspired. You are an inspiration.

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Feb 20, 2013

Feb 20, 2013 at 5:18 PM UTC

A Story

Let your mind wonder Society is not an issue right now Create your own world There is a beginning, there's always one But there doesn't have to be an end You're the entertainer for yourself. Imagine, a world. No? Imagine a planet? You can make what you want Share it, you won't be called crazy Aren't we all? A walking bunch of mad men with stories Keep them to yourself, share them. Become inspired. You are an inspiration.

14

It's raining. The mist is hovering above tree tops. Smells of cookies and chocolate fill the air. Warm colors are everywhere. Happiness is shared between people. Though it is a lonesome day. It's not all bad. At least I can feel happy, and loved. I can share it too, and make others happy. Today is just another day.

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Feb 14, 2013

Feb 14, 2013 at 12:28 PM UTC

Valentines

It's raining. The mist is hovering above tree tops. Smells of cookies and chocolate fill the air. Warm colors are everywhere. Happiness is shared between people. Though it is a lonesome day. It's not all bad. At least I can feel happy, and loved. I can share it too, and make others happy. Today is just another day.

9

Daisy There was a flower named Daisy, I think she is a little bit crazy, Spits pollen everywhere, Shows her underwear, And all the time she is lazy. Camping Camping is on a deserted tropical island. Camping is singing on the moon. Camping is the wildlife around me. Camping is dancing on the sun. Camping is on top of an icy mountain. Camping is in the middle of nowhere. Camping is flying through the jungle. Camping is getting lost in an adventure. Camping is a tent shivering in the cold. Cats Cats are black and sly. They creep down the halls without a sound. Everything it looks at is still. Their eyes glimmer in the dark. They prance on their prey and in seconds they are gone. They taste like a big glomp of hair with a hint of catnip. They fell like a sharp claws climbing in your skin. They smell like danger. When a cat feels sad it cuddles up with me. My personal favorite.. There once was a girl who said "These limericks are hurting my head," "Your teacher says you need only to write two, Then you can go up to bed."

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Dec 2, 2012

Dec 2, 2012 at 5:43 AM UTC

Poems I wrote when I was 8!

Daisy There was a flower named Daisy, I think she is a little bit crazy, Spits pollen everywhere, Shows her underwear, And all the time she is lazy. Camping Camping is on a deserted tropical island. Camping is singing on the moon. Camping is the wildlife around me. Camping is dancing on the sun. Camping is on top of an icy mountain. Camping is in the middle of nowhere. Camping is flying through the jungle. Camping is getting lost in an adventure. Camping is a tent shivering in the cold. Cats Cats are black and sly. They creep down the halls without a sound. Everything it looks at is still. Their eyes glimmer in the dark. They prance on their prey and in seconds they are gone. They taste like a big glomp of hair with a hint of catnip. They fell like a sharp claws climbing in your skin. They smell like danger. When a cat feels sad it cuddles up with me. My personal favorite.. There once was a girl who said "These limericks are hurting my head," "Your teacher says you need only to write two, Then you can go up to bed."

24

Sitting here on the cool bench Looking at dark clouds pass over the sun Seeing the dead leaves drift to the ground Waves swell and become white. I hear the birds calling each other The smell of apples and spice is in the air I fill my lungs with this special atmosphere And I think to myself, it's not all bad.

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Oct 22, 2012

Oct 22, 2012 at 12:15 PM UTC

It's not all bad..

Sitting here on the cool bench Looking at dark clouds pass over the sun Seeing the dead leaves drift to the ground Waves swell and become white. I hear the birds calling each other The smell of apples and spice is in the air I fill my lungs with this special atmosphere And I think to myself, it's not all bad.

8

The girl sits their waiting She had waited a long time for tonight Waiting, putting all of her energy in But she sat there with her flowers The flowers she got because it was her last game She wasn't good enough to play Although she wanted to, really badly On the brink of tears, she hears the final whistle. Going home, this wasn't her win.

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Oct 17, 2012

Oct 17, 2012 at 11:51 AM UTC

The Bench Warmer

The girl sits their waiting She had waited a long time for tonight Waiting, putting all of her energy in But she sat there with her flowers The flowers she got because it was her last game She wasn't good enough to play Although she wanted to, really badly On the brink of tears, she hears the final whistle. Going home, this wasn't her win.

9

Though your head is turned I can still see you, Facing towards the glowing screen, You say you don't have time, Even a short coffee break is too much, You're a stranger to me and I am one to you, I see the back of your head in a room of paper, Since when did work replace family? I'm leaving soon and you won't notice, I see you but you don't see me, I don't know who I live with, Though we are related, I can only see you.

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Jun 11, 2012

Jun 11, 2012 at 6:52 PM UTC

I see you.

Though your head is turned I can still see you, Facing towards the glowing screen, You say you don't have time, Even a short coffee break is too much, You're a stranger to me and I am one to you, I see the back of your head in a room of paper, Since when did work replace family? I'm leaving soon and you won't notice, I see you but you don't see me, I don't know who I live with, Though we are related, I can only see you.

12

Whispering to me, The rocks call out my name, As they shift their location, With each passing tide. The white foam outlining The waves that seem to be In an endless cycle. Gravity pushes and pulls The giant basin of water Can we really see what's in the sea? Or is it just a bowl of water That we cannot drink But supports so much life That is vital to our ways of living. Can we really see?

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Jan 31, 2012

Jan 31, 2012 at 3:15 PM UTC

Sea?

Whispering to me, The rocks call out my name, As they shift their location, With each passing tide. The white foam outlining The waves that seem to be In an endless cycle. Gravity pushes and pulls The giant basin of water Can we really see what's in the sea? Or is it just a bowl of water That we cannot drink But supports so much life That is vital to our ways of living. Can we really see?

15

Is there such a thing? An edge I mean. Or does the black hole That we have sought Make us travel, wander Into the dimensions. Trying to find the one edge To answer our questions. Where? When? Why? We're such curious beings.

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Jan 24, 2012

Jan 24, 2012 at 3:05 PM UTC

The edge of the universe

Is there such a thing? An edge I mean. Or does the black hole That we have sought Make us travel, wander Into the dimensions. Trying to find the one edge To answer our questions. Where? When? Why? We're such curious beings.

10