October Poetry Night

After school on October 8, students gathered at Blue Deer on King Street to share poetry during The Spark's second poetry night. Below is a collection of student poems from the poetry night. Come join us Wednesday, November 12 for our next monthly poetry night at Blue Deer to enjoy cookies, coffee, and student poetry!

Moby Dick's Soliloquy

BY CALEB STRICKLAND

From betwixt these harrowing waves

I swim, as the daylight shaves

Forever betrothed, to restless hearts

Parts at last, the final sail of Rachel

Departs now Ishmael, his madness unquelled

Protrudes now his grief, my eternal angel

As for all men free

My eye,

forever,

shall stab at thee

Caleb Strickland, 12th

This Sweet Summer Dream BY CHLOE GREER

Chloe Greer, 12

I lay in bed,

It’s late i think.

The thunder roars,

The lightning blinks.

I hear the creek.

It runs as the crickets peep

And the leaves rustle,

Through my serene scene.

It makes me appreciate

This sweet summer dream.

Untitled Poem

BY KATHERINE HEMRICK

Katherine Hemrick, 10th

A dog standing outside the window at Blue Deer

When I pick up a pencil

Or pen,

My mind switches off.

I can't think

And ideas no longer circulate

My mind.

Or maybe it's my brain

Switching on?

Too many thoughts,

Much too random,

No filter,

Just all at once,

They swarm my head.

If only there were a way

to sift through them.

However, there is not.

My thoughts,

Make up who I am.

And without them,

who would I be?

I would be someone who could write clear poetry,

Someone who could communicate clearly.

But, I am Katherine

And I'm okay with that.

Trees hover over me

BY MYKAELA MYERS

Surrounded by nothing except it's own thoughts

Thoughts turning into self destruction

I fall to my knees, holding onto its feet

Begging it to stop its tears

A beauty shouldn't have eyes of heaviness

Let go of that feeling

With all of it's strength it stands up

Reaching for my hand

Eyes interlocked

Time passes by

No words are said

But the love we found

Our love goes beyond our hearts

Don't let me go

Hold on to me tight

Keep me in this moment forever

I'll never let it go, never let you go.

Mykaela Myers, 11th

vulture

BY ASPEN HICKMAN

Aspen Hickman, 10th

You will rot.

And when I come

to feast on the flesh of your body,

The world will cry for you.

I will dip my head into the cavern of your chest

and find the heart of you.

I will not care that the flesh I am eating of

Is that which once kept the light in your eyes

and the breath in your lungs;

Those, too, I will feast upon

I will cry,

just with the world,

but my cry will be an invitation

to the devouring

of all that was once your body.

Blood is my water, sinew my thread.

I will unpick you

as you once unpicked me,

relived me of my feathers

of all that hid the truth of my eyes.

I, too, will root.

Perhaps while I am feasting,

the monster that runs without ceasing

will rip the animal soul

from my body.

My brethren will feast then, too.

You and I were made to devour,

and to be devoured,

this you cannot deny.

The ART of a nightmare

BY BRIHANNA W.

When I first saw you, it was like

looking at a still picture.

Now I am seeing you again, and I can

see the oil pastel streaks in the way you speak to me.

Your music you shared with me will remain in my head

like a pasta sauce stain in a clear bowl.

Your unremovable beauty. So terrifying but a presences so gorgeous.

You'll always age like fine wine in the winter. So old,

yet so beautiful.

You are my comfort place . My home. My life. My love.

When you lure me in with your soft song, it's always a death waltz.

Now I live in a pastel watercolor painting

with you.

Now I am back for a third time

and you look as beautiful as the first day I saw you.

I can still see the beauty in you without really having to look.

Some people think your a game,

a simple Indie game.

But you're a religion to me, a hope, a belief.

A thought that maybe if everyone understood what you were silently communicating,

We would worship you.

The crafter would speak intent of good,

The will make you into a masterpiece, and not one just of art,

But a message, a symbol of society.

Never of true evil intentions.

Only a terrifying art of truths, of the harsh realities we no live in.

Graceful, but gory

Such passion of aggression, a hostility of opened eyes.