These are the collective efforts of the members of


Jackson High's Writing Club.

None of these poems have titles. So if you think of a good title for anyone of them just e-mail me with your suggestions. Ya never know, I might actually use one or two.

A man's character is his fate
A women's emotional disinchantment controls her future
Two girls phsycological inchantment frees thier past
No man's prison confines his future
Every woman's heaven is overflowing with her past
Only men have no hell empty without his future
All women go to hell full with her past
Some men never see heaven- their ego's are too big
Most women always stay on earth- thier self confidence is too low
No men ever leave Mars- their self distruction is never high


Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odors made
From her bitter life, were rude sights destroyed
His brilliant death showed polite sounds emerging
Her gray life trapped angry silence inside
His bight death let free joyous cacaphony in the field
Her dull life kept within depressing silence inside


Each ghost comes unbidden from the misty grounds of dream and silence
No living soul stays with permission at the thick sky of reality and din
Living souls leave without permission at the thin ground of imagination and loud noise
Corpses loiter obsessively on the mountain of structure and classical music.
Humans care not about the peaks of cleanliness and good music

Though continuous daily contact, young people are given the opportunity to evaluate and choose traits they consider desirable in a spouse.
Without contact, the elderly take away confinement to skim over and ignore traits they consider undesirable in a divorce.
Together, the toddlers are sentenced to meticulously evaluate flaws they dismiss as desirable to the dead.
Alone, the dead body's are let free to assess the little things that the living take for granted.
Together, the living are prisoned to dismise the grand things that the dead leave for nothing.


The company pairs off quickly, and the whole room is soon in motion
The man stayed where he was, only the floor was moving
The woman ran to the ends of the earth, and everything was still
The man crawled to the beginnings of the moon, and nothing was kaotic
This woman sprinted from the ends of the stars, where all dallied in confusion
That man strlled from the beginnings of hell, when all rapidly became clear
This God ran away from the end of heaven, when nothing faded slowly in his brain
That devil walked to the nearest level of hell, after something burst into flame by his feet


The voice of the last cricket across the first frost
The silence of the now fried crickets near the last spring
Noisely, the living crickets dance at the coming of winter
Quietly, the dead chocolate sits on it's hands as the leaving of summer
Loudly, the living lemon stands on its head as the coming of winter
The rotten banana sat for summer was ending
The fruits of the earth spilled over for life was anew

Back

Main Page

Links

© 1997 daquiri69@hotmail.com


This page hosted by GeoCities Get your own Free Home Page


1