My Poetry

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My Poetry

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My Poetry

The following are all original and done by me...

HERE TO THERE AND BACK AGAIN

Here to there and back again.

Back from there with stregthened vim.

Answers found here and there,

But lessons learned from there to here.

From here to there with nothing found.

From there to here without a sound.

Once you've traveled from there to here,

You find now that your more sincere.

Your there is there to guide your then.

Without your there you have no end.

But with to much there you have no here.

And thus your then is now impaired.

You return from there and knowing how,

Keep to yourself this solem vow:

"From here to there I must come back,

For here in there that there does lack"

Some live their there and leave their here,

Those that do have no seen cure.

Travel there but come back here,

So then one day your then be here.

-Brendan Cowan

FEARLESS

Fear know me,

But I know not fear.

Foolish are the fearless,

But only so speak the fearful.

When you find something that upsets your mind,

You believe it is "fearful" and overcome with time.

So fear is derived from self,

And thus is deminished by self.

To fear thyself is to be truly foolish.

-Brendan Cowan

Although just a mere letter written to the Principal and Counselor of CHS I believe that this is true poetry:

I have not spent a more mentally destructive year in my life. I gape and awe at the amount of idiots here in this primitive school. I have ached for death. I feel an excess of ignorance in my mind that no amount of books may dislodge. I feel my brain rotting away fromt he feral touch of chaos. Never have I seen a school so unmannered, so chaotic or in whihc every social and public grace is lacking. No words which I write could describe the severity or the hypocrisy that this "institution" wiithholds. even if such a school was to understand or hold and ouce of information useful to the students they would either be to scared to reveal it on account of getting sued, harassed or arrested, or the school committee board would find it "unacceptable for studnets."

Never have I seen a counselor who's logic is so far in the illicite minor that her replacement of mind is imminently needed. They should make a whole new fallacy for her way of thinking.

Calling the majority of people in this school, and the school itself, a "pusillanimous purveyor of pederasty would be to nice and kindly for the names that they should be titled by. I dont' think I could begin to state how much I wish to leave this horrific school, however, I feel that this writing is a start, and only such a start. This has been a ruthless torture rather than an exciting education that wich it should be. I seriously believe that I would have learned more if I sat at home and watched T.V while eating Ice Cream. Ther eis no information at the school that the T.V doesn't offer.

In conclusino: With this chool I have been shown how to Personify, prevaricate, provicate, and revive ancient principals of dark treachery. I wish for the whole countries sake that you will shpe up your decaying school and turn it into something that closely resembles a " House of Knowledge." In my time I have seen great imitations of schools but never once did I come upon one that was so hideous, stubborn and shildish as yours. You have put your own little perversions on schooling for the ultimate effect of a falling nation. Your grotesque view on life and morals is so overwhelmingly naive, obscure and nefarious that you should be pitied rather than scorned.

Sincerely,

Anonymous

The following is based on a true story...

MARY

Let me tell you 'bout a girl I once knew.

Whoe lived in a small town as once did I.

For this is when my sad, broken heart flew.

And Mary, my friend, was cast in the sky.

Mary was my life,k my music, my sun

She was my end-all, be-all in this life.

whenever with her we always had fun

And her lips were as the water of God.

But then came another who felt the same.

he love Mary too and she was his joy.

It was he that caused me all of my pain.

Let me now tell you 'bout a boy named Roy.

Roy was a boy, not quit younger than me

We got into a fight that got hairy.

(He and I weren't great friends as you can see.)

This was all o'er our only live, Mary.

We fought until we were blue in the face.

Until gallons of blood ran from our sweat.

But to our dismay we used to much haste

For the scronfulness of Mary we met.

Our feud went on and on and on for days.

Though Mary did never choose one of us.

But then one stricken day; home went our grades.

And the feud did stop and we did not fuss.

The reason we stopped fighting o'er Mary

Became clear when she came back there after

A black heavy burden she did carry.

Mary's father, that day, did beat her.

She had a black eye and a bloody lip.

We sat next to her and asked her to tell.

From our resting, open hearts she took a sip.

Then Mary's father we wanted to kill.

But Mary went on, her heart close to our.

We walked and talked as friend, not a lovers.

But still every day we'd pick her flowers.

On the hot days when the bees did hover.

We used to sit and talk in the park.

Where we would laugh and stroll with her all day.

At this time we were as happy as larks.

But on Mary's face weariness was laid.

We used to gaze at the stars every night

Mary always said she'd like to be there.

This is when our relationship took flight.

For we saw then that love was Mary's lair.

One calm night we received word from Mary.

She said to come to our spot in the park

She ne'er done this so we didn't terry.

So we walked through the grass in the nights dark.

We read the last part of the note on route

It said to us: Come now, hurry and leave

Put on your jackets and strap up your boots.

When you get herelook up and you'll see me.

Then we came to our secret spot with her

Where all of our time was always the best

But then we say in the dark there after

There sat Mary with a knife in her chest.