These submissions are all from Mrs. Stech’s AP Literature and Composition classes. All students that were interested were invited to submit their figurative language poems and then the editors in chief of the media program narrowed down the choices. Students who were chosen received extra credit for submitting and also for being chosen. There will be other opportunities throughout the year for students to get their work published. Below are the poems that were chosen :
Sin, as so seen in hate and fury
To think you would appear with the reeking smell of rot,
With seven corrupt actions acting as the root of all evil.
They truthfully are but the most beautiful, twisted mirror,
For the color of envy glimmers the same green just as a forest in the early morning.
Powerful crowns high in the air rest pridefully upon kings heads
No sinner feels remorse from within their palace of jewels.
The chilling hands of the devil
His forked tongue, and sharp horns,
Do not tempt the sinner, but welcome him
To choose, for Adam’s apple was not picked by itself.
A sinner simply chooses to blindly follow to feeling
Of unveiling the twisted, beautiful taste of sin.
Give me, you- your mercury, your love
Your mercy coddles me with promises of immortality
Put away the mirror and focus on me, look at none but me
Cling onto me as the planets do for their glorious Sun
Lay your head to rest as a fawn in the greenest pasture
Close your innocent eyes and listen- for the melody of the yellow-headed blackbird
Your ears may bleed, overwhelmed with horror- gushing forth through your shattered heart
How funny! When I will not fall to your side asking if you’re alright
Give me, you- your fancy plates of cheese and golden chandeliers
My feather, pieced together, let me fly
How I get chills as I stare into the blazing rays of gold
Don’t take me for a fool like Icarus
Losing feeling and grazing doves doesn’t call me to halt
But soon I can see the flavors of the afterlife.
“The Great Burn”
Oh fire, how you scorch what you touch.
Cooking everything you come across until black,
The only thing left behind is blackness.
You great inferno, are the creator of chaos-
Blackened like a charred marshmallow,
The Raging flames left no vegetation behind.
The whole world a blaze
In the end, nothing wasn’t burnt to the ground.
Grey clouds filled the sky-
Sirens leave in despair.
The fire was out cold,
The forest had to pick a new apple and rebuild.
A few years of damage was done,
Greenery gone but the smoggy smoke was to stay.
My naive little popsicle,
Weeping orange tears in the bright summer sun,
I watch as my childhood melts away,
A carefree summer giving way to fall,
As my popsicle becomes a sticky orange pool like a puddle forming from a dying glacier,
Calving chunks onto the ground below.
Years full of memories gone by in seconds,
Yet somehow I am not dissatisfied.
The sweat of the summer
Now waters the roots that will blossom in the spring.
Maybe what I have lost will lead me to find something new-
Maybe one day I’ll part the melted orange popsicle sea,
And find a small surprise:
A taste of the gleaming horizon of my future.