YUKON'S CHERRY COKE PHOBIA EXPERIMENT
This poem was performed at the Poetry Slam as a burner poem. A burner poem is a performance that is used as an example for the judges, performers, and audience.
Alizabeth:
Some people think the number 13 is bad luck,
But if I see it coming I just have to duck!
It’s not that I think a number could hurt me,
It’s not like it might jump off the page,
But you never know if it does, I’ll have to flee.
My friends say it’s completely irrational but
Together one and three just scare me.
Aspyn:
Dementophobia (Fear of Going Insane)
Through unbelieving eyes, I see the weird
glances that flow my direction. I feel
overwhelmed and flustered and angered.
What are they looking at? What are they
seeing past my forced smile? The
uneasiness that shows at the seams of my
own self being leak out and I don’t know
who I am anymore. Are they all an
illusion or a hallucination? Or are they
truly there? I can’t tell real from fake
anymore. It eventually takes over me and I
scream, letting people know the true person
I am. Once I stop, I look up and see everyone
staring at me. Were they not before? Was I
seeing things? It really didn’t matter anymore,
I had gotten far too deep into my own thoughts.
Steel:
Everyone hates you
All the animals don’t like you
All the other countries despise you other than ireland or scotland
Why Because your a ginger
Gingers are deranged monsters
Living inside of that pale skin and red hair
All they do are bad things
They will take your souls
And use those souls to replace the ones that they do not have
to solve the problem
We can get rid of all the gingers
Allison:
Linonophobia
Thousands of tiny threads
Woven together to make one
Bits and pieces fraying out
Itching at the touch
Crocheted together piece by piece
Creating a net of small threads
Knotted tightly together, unable to escape
Grandma’s hand-knitted sweaters
Tighter than any grasp
It’s a cage that keeps me in
Making it so hard to breathe
The afternoon hobby has become a trap
A cage to confine me
Like a snake
It wraps around my skin
Pulling tighter and tighter
Until I cannot breathe any longer
Ben:
Hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia
To most, it’s just plain difficult,
Rifling through an endless library of linguistic-ridden papers.
They sigh, vexed by the daunting task of their assignment due this morrow,
In which their words and mettle shall be tested and marked.
But to others, it’s a fear above all else,
With syllables upon syllables, piling high.
Words of lengthy manner fill them with dread,
As letters add up, multiplying, until it’s too much to handle.
Sophia:
The fear of feet is a healthy fear
Just the throughout of them being near
Wiggling toes are really gross
They make me hate feet the most
Basically, feet really freak me out
So please, never let your dogs out
Isaac:
Pogonophobia
The luscious follicles of gorgeous mane
Will always appeal to the wise man
But the wise man knows not of the great mane
That resides upon the chin
a rat, crested upon the face
The disgusting whiskers of man will always plague me
The horrible face that adorns such a feature will always shadow me
Like the treacherous clouds of a storm
Or the silhouette of trees, looming over me on a sunny day
No not sunny
More like the storm, of sorrow and pain
More like the river of hair and anguish
For the day is dead
Dead with the faces of rats
Jessie:
Fear of Clowns
I walk into a circus
Hoping no clowns are near
Deadly little monsters
They always wanna play
So the circus is where they get their prey
I see the back of a man
Need directions so I tap his back
Turns around blood everywhere
I see his face with clown paint all over
I look around trying to find a place to hide
He came towards me with a leg in his mouth
Blood, blood, blood
Trying to run
Find a spot to hide
Finally out of sight
Never mind he found me
Tonight is when I die
Darbie:
Chromophobia
I will not turn on the light
If I do, they will find my eyes
The blue of the endless depths
The green of the strangling branches
The yellow of the blinding sun
The red of the poison apples
They swirl and surround me
Pouring into my every thought
There’s orange, there’s purple
All ripping a gash in my mind
Til all I can think
All I can do
Is simply scream
So that’s why I
turned off the lights
Kylie:
Anatidaephobia - Fear of ducks watching you
I hate the park.
I hate the pond the most
As I sit next to the glimmering waters
My chest tightens, my heartbeat quickens
Are they watching?
The fear remains as I return home
I listen for quacks and watch my back
For orange webbed feet and oily white feathers
Are they watching?
I feel their beady eyes,
Glittering with malice,
Piercing me through
I bolt to escape with all I have left
But the ducks are faster
Jocelyn:
TBD
Maxine:
The fear of children,
Being petrified of permanent runny noses,
of the power of new running shoes
in P.E. class.
Oh God what is that
and why is it sticky?
The dread of tiny hand
and missing shoes,
of mud trails
and slip n slides.
The fear of the words:
Where is your little brother?
Because now one of them…
a child can sneak up on you,
in an unwanted game of hide and go-seek.
No, I don’t want to hold your dirty tissue,
there’s a trash can over there.
The apprehension toward the little monsters
joyfully giggling at the card table during family gatherings,
and awkward invasive conversations in the middle of a Walmart.
Kid don’t you have parents,
where are they?
Anika:
I hate going in my grandma's garden
It's not because of the plants
It's because of the gnomes
That make me crap my pants
The way they stare at me
As I walk in the grass
It's like their eyes follow me
As I pass