Kimberly+Bush

"Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you - like music to the musician or Marxism to the Communist - or else it is nothing..." -F. Scott Fitzgerald

Ode To Life
Exaggerating...thoughtless taken for granted by the waves of masses called the people How do you feel to be giving these lifeless souls a new beginning Not appreciated Thrown Away and for what? You were once precious Thought of as a majestic being you are their future Were their future You were the future of this world But what are you now Do you consider yourself great Did you ever Knowing that those ungrateful liars threw you away to become once again an empty soul How does it make you feel to know that people rather be lifeless then with a life itself "Give up" These are the words that get thrown into your face for eternity these words will haunt you Reminding you that you will never be or have what you want Your own life

Praise Poem
Don’t go to sleep Must stay awake Afraid of the dark Afraid of mistakes Don’t leave my side The earth might quake And send me down to hell Where the devil awaits Torment and hatred My existence is faced with Nothing but horrible Things that I’ve wasted Never leaving my side There is nowhere to hide This evil inside Will bury me alive Drenched with tears I would cry Please lord don’t let me die I want to live life I don’t want this strife A loud thunderous roar Comes through my door They’re here to take me And torment me more Must I live my days Waiting for the rain To come and get higher To drift me away Crouched in the corner Hiding from my shadow Wanting for this to end But the time will just extend What seems like years Have only been seconds I’m trying to withstand I’m trying to forget this

= **Riff Off Of E.E. Cummings "Since Feeling Is First"** = For life's not a paragraph And death i think is no parenthesis They tell you to live life to the fullest But how and with what to look forward to? Life...what is life...is it really that exciting Is it really something to think about If life's not a paragraph then is love Are the feelings from the heart that simple to put into words, into a paragraph Only to be thought of differently by others Death, it's not a parenthesis...it's more like an exclamation point Surprising yet all knowing that it would come some day Only to be followed by another word... Another sentence...Another paragraph.... another page....and at the end...another exclamation point

Sonnet:
I have waken up to this hell on earth Really, what is this thing called life worth They say the best thing in life is to love But what are the main ingredients of love made up of A little bit of hate here and there The memories of you gasping for air The number of times a smile crossed your face The smell of their scent when you were given a warm embrace The many fights and tears that were shed The hurtful words, like broken glass when said The feeling of being alone when they left your side The painful feeling knowing that they lied The look on your face knowing that they died At the funeral you count how many tears you cry

Statement:
In the past, I used to want to be a poet as a profession. I dedicated my whole life around it and felt very strongly about poetry for it's meaning. However, the only thing that was a problem in this situation was that I could only write poetry, good poetry, if I was inspired. Inspiration, doesn't sound that hard to do right? Wrong. You see, the thing about me is that I could be inspired by the smallest thing. For example, getting a new book one day inspired my to write about five poems. I know, sounds weird. Then again, having a new love could make me want to write a poem too. It's random and different, something that can't be explained. Now adays, I feel as though the only thing that I can use to express my feelings is my poetry, but how am I supposed to do this? Well that's it, I can't. It doesn't flow as smooth as it used to be. I can't write without a cause behind it or else it won't be coming from the heart which will make me feel as though my standards are being lowered. That is why this whole benchmark was a hardship. It felt like my feelings and thoughts were being forced out of me. This is not my best of works but hopefully it will help me pass. =//__Percy Bysshe Shelley__//=

Love's Philosophy
The fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the ocean, The winds of heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single, All things by a law divine In one another's being mingle— Why not I with thine? See the mountains kiss high heaven, And the waves clasp one another; No sister-flower would be forgiven If it disdain'd its brother; And the sunlight clasps the earth, And the moonbeams kiss the sea— What is all this sweet work worth If thou kiss not me?

To The Moon [fragment]
Art thou pale for weariness Of climbing Heaven, and gazing on the earth, Wandering companionless Among the stars that have a different birth,-- And ever changing, like a joyless eye That finds no object worth its constancy?

Music, When Soft voices Die
Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory -- Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken. Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heaped for the beloved's bed; And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on.

"Loves Philosophy" Analysis
I feel as though this poem is talking about how everything in this world has a pair, as though everything comes in two. Then the poet is asking why is he the only one who is left out of this equation. He then goes on in describing things that appear to be touching as kissing and embracing. And then asks why he is the only one who's not in love or being kissed by anyone.

"To The Moon" Analysis
I feel as though this poem is talking about how how the "moon" is lonely and committed to loneliness. The first fragment is basically talking about how its color is drained from being lonely The second fragment might be talking about how the "earth" is it's lover yet the moon can only be with it from afar Sort of like a long distance relationship The stars come and go like people in our lives. Their "birth" is like the finding of a new companion yet the feeling changes over time Basically the end fragment is saying that nothing in this world is committed or consistent. Everything usually falls apart.

"Music, When Soft Voices Die" Analysis
I feel as though this poem is talking about how when something is gone you still remember the feeling or sense it gave you. For example, in the third and fourth lines it talks about how after you smell something you will remember that smell later on in life when you smell it again. Then in the fifth and sixth lines when a rose is dead it's petals can be used as a romantic gesture and for decoration In this case it's used to decorate a lovers bed which is a cliched gesture. And then in the last two lines it talks about how the thoughts of love for a loved one will stay with the one that they love even after they die. But then again it could also mean that the love they have for that person sleeps with them. Emphasis on the "slumber" maybe, that love just goes unnoticed like it was before.