I wrote this on my friends refrigerator with those word magnets. Thusly, I didn't exactly have a lot of leeway with what words I could use, so be merciful.

Goodness these categories are so frustrating. For the zillionth time, not exactly a political poem but kind of. There isn't much I can say about it except that you should read it.

Again, the category isn't exactly right. I chose song because it's beat poetry, meant to be read with an identifiable rhythym, and I kind of heard it with a string bass and maybe a jazz drumset in the background. Anyways it's about Langston Hughes.

It isn't really a war poem, but it seemed to be the most fitting category. It was an Englisj assignment for a simultaneous poem. Thefirst voice is a savage voice which contradicts the second voice, which sort of represents high society.

It's meant to be read out loud and with emotion, it sounds cooler that way. R&R

I'm taking a creative writing class at IFTA (Institute for the Arts) this summer, so here are all the assignments we've done in class. Keep in mind I was given anywhere between 5 and 25 minutes to do these.

Until states, I cannot move.

Writing about not being able to write. hahaha...

Since when did it thunderstorm in January in D.C.?

Talking nothing to the orange juice, and the lobsters sang alone

And as we sat under tungsten, our broken glass souls seemed a little more organized

The ballerinas crash down, robbed of grace

Sometimes I just can't help but feel so left behind

Camaraderie of shoes, please suffocate...

It's amazing how many words rhyme with dance...

For Alice. Keep smilin darlin.

For Brianna

I was imspired for this after a rainstorm when we went rowing and the river was completely full of trash and muck. Anyone whos ever seen the Potomac knows what I'm talkin about. Anyways, it's dripping with sarcasm and it's one of my best.

On a cool night on a hotel roof in Orlando, when hope fails to show up, and peacefull acceptance is your only company, things seem so much more poetic.

For Andrew. You know I'm still trying.

For Mary Clare

How Jenny Westerhoff Saved Mary Keegan's Soul From The Blues. When you're bored, a friend down the street is always good to have.

Another sappy love poem. Again, no need to remind me of how bad I suck.

About one of the even programs at CSB session 6 when I was just thinking about how grateful I was to be there and how much I love this place.

The peacemaker is always left behind.

I was angry at my friends. And i came to a realization. TADA!

Stupid sappy love poem. I called myself sorrow cuz thats what my name means. yeah. you dont have to bother telling me, i know its retarded.

Insanity. I, for one, like spiders.

See what happens when you listen to rumors?

I suck.

This is about a woman who befriends a downsyndrome homeless man with a thing for coins. I really like this one. R&R.

I guess I wrote this poem because people are such hypocrites. Im not religious but whatever.

The cold was leaving, and I was sad. This is how I expressed it.

She used to have everything. Oh where did it go. This one seemed harshly real to me when I was writing it, and, as always, I have the strong little one-liner at the end.

In regards to a realtionship between myself and a friend. I like this one. R&R please.

Part of my project, one of the later chapters. Short and sweet. R&R.

I wrote this after Championships. Love of the sport. 2005 Bishop Ireton Women's Novice Four. Coxswain - Chloe Mullins. Stroke - Mary Keegan. Three Seat - Kim Miller. Two Seat - Valerie Roth. Bow - Kerry Fogarty. Love you girls.

A nightmare I had. Very scary. The last line just kind of lashed out into my head at the end of the dream, and then I woke up. Dunno if the buckets were white or the blood was white.

I thought that you'd forgotten me

I'm sorry Andrew

It's tragic, how worthless and filthy humanity is.

to a dear friend, we miss you sorely

Ive just been noticing that so many things are dying this month. Again, hypocritical for not rhyming. This is extremely personal and exclusively for ym own sake. i dont care if you dont get it or not

Its about some discomfort between me and a friend of mine. Personal. And yes, i realize i am a complete hypocrite for not rhyming.

In her towel robe and fuzzy slippers, with her arms crying little red tears, she walked and walked...

Okay, another essay for english class. A descriptive paragraph on a photograph engaging all the senses. The picture was of Jews ebing escorted from the ghetto. So yeah. REVIEW!

An essay i wrote for school, a personal experience piece. About crew...yeah. First of a bunch of new things ill be posting.

I wrote this at camp, and its to all my CSB buddies. Elizabeth, Michelle, Jessica, Liz, Ceci, Meredith, Sarah, Caroline, Hillary, Tim, Cori, Kim, Ashley, Jeremy, and Tessa(even tho shes mad at me...hey, i calls em as i sees em) I LOVE YOU GUYS! CSB IS THE

Well its a nature poem about a peaceful valley i guess...? Utopia perhaps? But don't worry it isnt half as bad as moonsong...blech

Another one I wrote a while ago, found, and revised. So again, don't be too harsh

I tried a new style of writing for this one. It's from the point of view of a mother whose little son died. I worked really hard on this one, so R&R. (sorry about the messed up format, I'll be fixing it soon)

This is about a lonely, drunk hobo who used to be a soldier.

I guess it's from the point of view of someone whos mentally insane and is lost in their thoughts. But I'm not really sure because I wrote it when I was half asleep.

I wrote it when i was ten so I have no idea what I based it on.It was an assignment for school, we had to write poems about color. I showed the teacher and she just laughed in my face. And then it got published. SO UP YOURS MS. SULLIVAN!

Using metaphors to talk about how theres so little good left in the world and what good is left is suffering because it has to see all the bad stuff.

Story about a girl whos left out so she goes goth then kills herself and comes back and kills other people.