After all these years, this knife in my back begins to sear. Like an ember, hot from the crackling fire. Your voice is like nails scratching across the blackboard. Your hair smells of the spicy berry essence of an off-brand shampoo.
You feel like the crisp night air. A cool breeze on the nape of my neck. Your aurora is obnoxious like the center of a perfume shop in Macy's.
The wind blowing through the trees on an Autumn morning. Or a choir singing their song on a Sunday beautiful and full of happiness.
It's like roses, but it can also be like the devils touch full of hatred and sin. But most of all your voice is like children laughing, on a summer day.
Hi friends, here's Kristen and I's poem! Enjoy!
ReplyDeleteYour Voice Sounds Like
A ship in the night,
and a gust of wind.
The first sip of coffee in the morning,
and a record that's lived a million lives.
The rhythm of a heartbeat,
and my mother tucking me into bed.
The first bite of a McDonald's hamburger
Hello gang and here's mine. It's Mike.
ReplyDeleteThe Feel Of Your Hand Is Like
A ship in the night.
The sting of a fresh sunburn.
The crisp night air.
Like a father's tone.
A cool breeze on the nape
of my neck. A
devil.
It's Mickey and Dani.
ReplyDeleteThe Sound of Your Voice is Like
A train barreling down the tracks
ready to plow me over. Or like
the morning fog,
hiding the claws of a beast.
Like sweet wine,
Christmas cookies and cinnamon.
Cat whiskers ticking my face in the morning.
Hi! This is Sam and Mika's poem.
ReplyDeleteThe Sound of Your Voice is Like
After all these years, this knife in my back begins
to sear. Like an ember, hot from the crackling fire.
Your voice is like nails scratching across the blackboard.
Your hair smells of the spicy berry essence of an off-brand shampoo.
You feel like the crisp night air.
A cool breeze on the nape of my neck.
Your aurora is obnoxious like the center of a perfume shop in Macy's.
Hello. My partner and I couldn't settle on any ideas, so here is Anthony's poem.
ReplyDeleteThe Sound of Your Voice is like
A father's tone, stern and sincere.
It reminds me of the evening news
dull and lifeless,but vital.
It calms like a cat's purr.
To hear it shows that someone else is happy.
To feel it makes you yourself happy.
Without it all seems too still.
It's Amber and here is my poem:
ReplyDeleteThe Sound of Your Voice is Like
The wind blowing through the trees on an Autumn morning.
Or a choir singing their song on a Sunday
beautiful and full of happiness.
It's like roses, but it can also be like the devils touch
full of hatred and sin. But most of all
your voice is like children laughing,
on a summer day.
This is Devon and Andrea's poem.
ReplyDeleteThe sound of your voice is like
a warm breeze
like an angel.
like a garden of flowers
your voice is a soft angel.
your touch is like a lifeless body.
like you haven't showered.
This is Devon and Andrea's poem.
ReplyDeleteThe sound of your voice is like
a warm breeze
like an angel.
like a garden of flowers
your voice is a soft angel.
your touch is like a lifeless body.
like you haven't showered.
I'm mot sure what happened to my poem, I posted it Tuesday, but now it's gone.
ReplyDeleteHere it is again.
The feel of your hand is like
a dying animal caught in a snare.
It's moist, much like a morning fog.
Horrified, a screeching monkey pulling out his hair.
But to me, this is nothing, because I know
you fought. It's not Christmas, Cookies, and Cinnamon,
more like a record that has lived a thousand lives.