Caged Bird-Inspired Poem

I Don’t Know…

I don’t know what I’m doing.

I don’t know what I want to do with my life.

I don’t know where I want to go.

I don’t know what I want to accomplish.

I am an eighteen year old girl who doesn’t know.

We spend the first eighteen years of our lives preparing ourselves…

For what?

Are we preparing ourselves to make a change in the world?

To make as much money as we possibly can?

To have a steady home with a family and a dog?

I don’t know if that’s what I want.

From the time I started fifth grade,

I knew what I wanted to do with my life.

But now?

I just don’t know.

Writers Dreaming Angelou Responses

#4 - The purpose of dreams and the true meaning behind them will most likely never be discovered, but many people choose to believe dreams reveal our true selves, and I just don’t agree with this. I have definitely had dreams before that have frightened me or ashamed me due to the weirdness of my dreams, but I have never attempted to interpret my dreams before. To my understanding, dreams are generated thoughts from our subconscious that basically reflect our past experiences, passions, relationships, fears, pleasures, worries, and curiosities. The dreams that you dream, in my opinion, are probably most-likely just your brain’s way of figuring issues out and thinking of new possibilities I do not believe in interpreting  your dreams due to the fact that most dreams are absolutely random and are hard enough to describe as is. I do, however, believe that you can dream of fears or worries that you have, or of a certain situation you want to have occur in your life.

#5 - I was incredibly surprised when I had heard Maya had stopped talking for almost five straight years. I was surprised for two main reasons, one, being that children are very vocal and to voluntarily never speak again had to be extremely difficult, and two, I know for a fact that I would never be able to go that long without talking. My friends wouldn’t necessarily say I’m a talker (I’m definitely more of a listener,) but I can still hold a conversation. My biggest issue with the not talking for five years is that I talk to myself way too much. I don’t think being a talking is a bad thing, but I definitely do believe that you can learn a lot more about a person when you listen more than talk. But the other way around, it’s a good thing to not be too quiet because it is very essential and beneficial in life to be able to communicate and get your point across when needed. There are times where being quiet can benefit you more and there are also situations where being social and a talker can benefit you more.

#6 - Without language, humans would not be human. Language is the absolute most important aspect of any civilization or society. I definitely would not consider myself fluent in any other language than English, but I can, however, speak the littlest amount of Spanish and not sound like a complete idiot. When I took Spanish I in eighth grade I absolutely hated it, and when I took Spanish II freshman year… I still hated it. But now, I regret the miniscule amount of interest that I had when I was younger. It has been scientifically proven that it is easier to learn a new language when you’re younger than when you are older, and I wish I had taken advantage of that. I am in no way saying that I think I have no hope of learning a new language now, but I could have already had a good foundation underneath me to continue learning. If I were to learn any new languages, I would want to learn Spanish, Portugese, and German. I want to learn Spanish because it is the unofficial second language of the United States and is used all over the world. I want to learn Portuguese because I simply find the language fascinating, and I would like to learn German because my family is from Germany and I am of German descent… Like most white people. Language is fascinating, and to say that you only need one language to live your life is a very simplistic way of thinking. Educate yourself.

Dream Marks on my Pillow

Tossing and turning in my bed, I lay here and stare up at my ceiling. My mind is racing but also blank at the same time. As if I am unable to focus on one of the ten thousand thoughts running through my head. An uneasiness sets over me, leaving me tired enough to close my eyes, but not enough to relax my mind. Many nights I have spent this way, and every time I hate it just as much as the last. Even when my body is in need of rest, of relaxation, of peace and quiet, my mind is unable to allow it just that. So I continue to lay here, and I continue to stare at my ceiling. I focus on sleep as if it isn’t involuntary; forcing my body to relax, my teeth to unclench, forcing my mind to think of nothing. Who knew how loud the night could be when all else has fallen silent? Laying in my bed, eyes closed, forcefully relaxed, I let the sounds of the dark fill my mind.  My breathing begins to even and I can no longer feel my pulse in my neck. As my body becomes still, so does my mind and I am finally able to welcome the comfort of sleep.

Tossing and turning.

Mind unable to relax.

Sleep is a faint dream.

Dream Threads

I can’t find anyone and I’ve been searching for years. I spend my days walking through the remnants of a past civilization with my only company being my dog, Red. Red and I have always had this special bond, a bond so strong that I would give my life in a heartbeat to save him. The first time that I had ever seen Red was two weeks after the final strike. I had been walking down the middle of a freeway, weaving in and out of cars when I saw a huddled ball underneath a turned-over semi that was slightly moving. Being only skin and bones, he was extremely dehydrated and starved. I gave him the rest of my water and laid with him long enough to awaken to slobber all over my left eye. I didn’t expect to gain a new friend, but from that moment on Red stayed by my side. I named him Red simply because it is my favorite color.

Red had given me, for a short time, hope that maybe I would eventually run into another person, another survivor. Now, four years later and I have yet to discover anyone else. So Red and I trudge along, scaling fallen rubble and ducking underneath fallen ceilings. The current goal? Keep walking. I used to spend my days with an actual destination in mind, places where I would think sanctuaries would be set up, but after two years of disappointment I decided it didn’t matter anymore where I was walking to. And so here I am, one foot in front of the other, singing the lyrics to an old Guns N Roses song with my trusty partner by my side, and not a single clue as to where I am headed. That is, until I spot a pillar of smoke rising from a street corner five blocks away and I freeze in my tracks. Four years. Four years without any sign of survivors and now all of a sudden there is a fire ahead of me, and I realize I am no longer alone.

If I Were In Charge of the World

If I were in charge of the world

I’d cancel Sundays,

melted ice cream,

commercials, and also

scratchy blankets

If I were in charge of the world

There’d be nicer strangers,

more puppies, and

adult-sized playgrounds

If I were in charge of the world

You wouldn’t have worry.

You wouldn’t have sorrow.

You wouldn’t have lies.

Or “Think realistically.”

You wouldn’t even have doubt.

If I were in charge of the world

a macaroni and cheese

pizza would be a vegetable.

All amusement parks would be free

and a person who sometimes forgot make-up

and sometimes forgot to wake up

would still be allowed to be

In charge of the world.

Color Collage Poem

Author's Note: This piece was inspired by the dirt of a hard
working person's hands.

Hands rusted from a long day’s work

The feeling of exhaustion and pride intertwine within

Hard work forms into the goal

Of the go-getter.

One is only able to accomplish

As much as they allow themselves.

The limit of success does not exist

But imagination and determination are limitless.

Color Inspired Narrative Poems

Darkness

Awaits the one who dares to disturb the

Resting spirits, best

Known for their wicked ways of being able to make even the strongest headed person feel

Knives piercing their temples before slipping away into insanity

Not many dare to reap so closely to the dead

In fear of becoming lost in the walls of their own minds

Gnawing at their eyes like crazed animals

Hope is only an illusion once encountered with the dead

The faith of the one who dares awaits ahead

Color Inspired Haikus

Forceful, crashing waves

Its energy source the wind

Crashing, rising seas

Sitting on the pane

A singing bird with a tune

With nothing to lose

Eyelids closed and shut

Body unmoving and relaxed

Mind at peace, for now

Free Verse Poem

Sitting, crouched next to an old sycamore

Gazing at the beautiful horizon

The smell of the earth fills my lungs

As I exhale all the wrong within me

The mind is a patchwork of curiosity and uncertainty

Producing every emotion felt within the world

Sitting next to the sycamore, I empty my thoughts

And my mind produces a new emotion

Color Inspired Acrostic Poems

Sitting quiet and alone,

Too chilled to move, with

Only my thoughts to accompany me

No one has ever asked or

Ever wondered about

What changed inside me.

Holding onto the edges of my mind,

Imagining a different world where

Time is insignificant and

Eternity is reality

Smelling salt,

Enjoying the breeze

A seagull flying high above, the

Sounds of the ocean

Play like music in my ears

Remembering this moment for

Ages to come while

Yawning as the sun sets

Comments

Hi, Amber, this was a great story to read. I think it's awesome that pine needles are what inspired you to write this piece.

Hello YaYa! I think that this is a great story that you have written. I had no idea that you were such a big fan of dolphins:)

Hi Ana, I thought that this was a very well written story. You are very good at creating a mental image for the reader:)