Free Verse Poster

From "All That is Gold Does Not Glitter" by John Ronald Reuel Tolkien 

All That is Gold Does Not Glitter

All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.


From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king. 

John Ronald Reuel Tolkien 

 

Enchanted - Benjamin Moore - 2070-50

She hovered by him, hypnotized,

Under a spell,

Enchanted,

Seeking the attention of his mysterious gaze.

Letting her eyes linger on him.

She kept telling herself

That he was too much,

That she wasn’t enough,

That he was unreachable. 

He was a fantasy,

A dream come true;

And she was

Just her

Innocent,

Serene self.

She was Enchanted,

Entirely mesmerized by him.

Every step he made,

Every breath he took,

Made her thin hands

Tremble

With adoration,

With desire.

To her,

Everything about him was extremely,

Exceedingly,

Extraordinarily

Enchanting.

And she couldn’t help

But say yes

When he -unexpectedly

Asked for a

Kiss;

Since she was blind

With love.

The smooth texture

Of his skin,

The burning

Touch of his fingers,

The thickness 

Of his lips

(That were like the inside of a rose) 

Fascinated her completely,

Left her breathless.

She wanted to fly

With him

But the only thing

He did was

Cut her wings

The only thing

He did was

Hurt her, harm her,

Break her.

She looked around

And wondered

Where her essence had

Gone

When he tried to go

Way too far,

And she doubted her conscience

When she should’ve been

Firm,

Burly,

Brave.

He had shattered

The spell

With his actions

And words.

But she was strong;

Enough, to stand up

Once more.

Flying with renewed vigor,

Strength and stamina.

Enchanted

To have really met him

But not by him;

Anymore.  

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Where I'm From

I am from rag dolls, princesses and teddy bears,

From Fruit Loops and boxed Cracker Jacks.

I am from unmatched, dirty socks sliding on slippery marbled floors.
I am from shiny black curls turning to straight dark hair.
And from disguising with costumes for dancing to the melody of the piano notes.
I am from sunny trips to the beach, and to Disney World,
(Where all your dreams were supposed to come true).

I am from the little, red flowers,
which I used to make necklaces;
and loud dog barks.
From wind hitting my face while playing outside.  

The charming cherry tree in Grandma’s backyard 

Whose cherries I collected and ate

Whenever I could.

I am from family dinners, talks and wise advice,
from dark hair and intelligence.

From Laurencio and Sandra
And Jaen-Dominguez;

From Mom’s reprimands and tight, loving hugs.

I am from the strong shouting across the house,

and memorable smiles and laughter between siblings.

From Don’t bite your nails! Stop goofing around!
And Continue trying!         

I am from Our Father and Holy Mary prayers

Before going to sleep every night,
From Angel de la Guardia 

and First Communion.

I’m from the proud, independent Panamanian Isthmus.

From lactose-free milk and freshly baked bread.

From the Alzheimer digging into my Grandfather-

So much information lost-

And the weird gentleness of my father towards it.

    

I am from moments captured in a million photographs,

From ballet presentation snaps

To family trips and vacations

Neatly placed and saved digitally and in photo albums.

I’m from my family memories and pictures

That will never change
Even if
-in some way-
we all do.

The Many Feelings of Heartbreak, Loss and Solitude

Description: Some may say that love is the most powerful force there is, but what about the opposite of love? Heartbreak: possibly one of the worst and most devastating feelings in the world, both physically and emotionally. And what about two other things that leave you in extreme emotional pain: loss and solitude. Everyone has or will suffer and go through heartbreak, loss, and solitude at some point, and especially poets, which are able to notice this in their lives and get inspired on these powerful causes. Yes, all of these are devastating and would leave many destroyed, but there are many ways to interpret heartbreak, loss and solitude...

Synopsis: Poets are able to capture and interpret the many painful moments of life and convert it into beautiful art work in their own way based on their feelings towards it

Poetry: 

• Alone by Maya Angelou
• One Art by Elizabeth Bishop
• If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda
• When We Two Parted by George Gordon Byron     
• I Do Not Love Thee by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
• I Am by John Clare   
• He Would Not Stay For Me, And Who Can Wonder by A. E. Housman
• Solitude by Ella Wheeler Wilcox 
• Alone by Edgar Allan Poe 

He Would Still Be Alive

Do you think it’s fair to be judged only because of the color of your skin or you your religion? Certainly not. You might think that nowadays, racism and prejudice don’t cross peoples’ minds as it did before, but you would be surprised with what these things still lead people to do.   

17 year-old Trayvon Martin wasn’t showing any kind of threat, however, this black, young man was shot and killed when walking back from a convenience store on the night of February 26, 2012 in a community in Sanford, Florida. George Zimmerman, who was the volunteer neighborhood watchman (with no training) at the time, was the causer of this horrific murder. He claims that he shot Martin in self-defense and that the he was wearing a hoodie and looked “suspicious”. Zimmerman says this boy was “up to no good” and followed him, while all that this teenager was carrying were a bag of skittles and a bottle of iced tea, and he was unarmed. Worst of all, Zimmerman hasn’t been arrested for his actions and he truly deserves to be.       

Prejudice can lead to injustice because once you have an unfavorable opinion about someone or a race itself it can lead you to treat that person unfairly without you even realizing; this case can certainly prove it.  Not every black man who’s walking at night, wearing a hoodie is a thief and neither is dangerous- we experience Trayvon Martin being the victim of a murder because of this exact kind of prejudice. Prejudice is just a sign of ignorance and Mr. Zimmerman proved to be a very ignorant and racist person. When someone is taught or used to judge based on other peoples’ opinions, they can’t make fair judgments. Most likely, George Zimmerman has always been a racist man even though his father sent a letter to the Orlando Sentinel declaring that his son wasn’t at all racist: "George is a Spanish speaking minority with many black family members and friends. He would be the last to discriminate for any reason whatsoever."    

"A black person in a hoodie isn't automatically 'suspicious.' Let's put an end to racial profiling!" Occupy Wall Street posted on its website… I bet that if Martin had been wearing expensive clothes instead he would have been “less suspicious”; what would you have done in Zimmerman’s case?

The Million Hoodie March was a protest in Union Square, New York, in which millions participated in favor of George Zimmerman’s arrest for the killing of Trayvon Martin. This millions of individuals were marching in remembrance of this innocent boy and in solidarity for his family. I believe that individuals have a responsibility to protect the innocent because then no one will and they would suffer. There are sometimes when you just know that protecting someone innocent is the right thing to do. The innocent and helpless-in this case Trayvon- are the ones who will be exposed to the dangers and prejudice of society because they have no way of defending themselves, sometimes; moreover, they have a tougher life. Trayvon is not alive anymore, but by this march in his honor many people are protecting him in a way. 

I can relate this to Atticus defending Tom Robinson’s case in To Kill A Mockingbird; I still don’t know much about what he is defending him of but he makes us see that Tom is innocent. He says that he has to help this black man; otherwise, he couldn’t be able to stand up for himself; he is sure that this man is innocent and that he is doing the right thing. It is his responsibility to protect this black man.

Nevertheless, another way that society can help the innocent is just stop being discriminative and racist. Now it’s Zimmerman who has triggered this whole commotion and people have started protesting on how society won’t get better. But it will get better if one by one, we stop being so prejudice because this is something that we all do. No one really understands why but its just one of the ways people function- we are always ready to judge and criticize. We all fear what we cannot understand: prejudice. It’s impossible to understand this kind of stereotype and racism that is abundant in our lives; yet, we all fear that something like what happened to Trayvon might happen to anybody else.    

 Gender stereotypes can absolutely influence people’s behavior towards a person. I believe it’s mainly if you’re a woman, you-can’t-do-as-much-as-men kind of stereotype. In this case, I’m sure that if it had been a woman with a hoodie instead of Trayvon, Zimmerman wouldn’t have been so prejudiced and wouldn’t have shot the “suspect” because of her gender. All I really know is that if George Zimmerman had followed 911’s instructions to leave the boy alone, and if he hadn’t been so prejudiced Trayvon Martin would still be alive.          

We Were So Close!

I awoke that morning and thought the world was endin’- it was a bizarre thing that it would snow in Maycomb County. Mr. Avery said that when children didn’t obey their parents, the seasons would change and Jem and me felt guilty for being the reason of winter in the middle of autumn. Since it was the coldest weather since 1885, we didn’t go to school that day. It was amazing to see snow for the first time, but I was freezing and missed the usual sweltering heat.

            Jem told me not to walk about in the snow so much or I would waste it, so I was meticulous because we really wanted to do a snowman. Jem had an idea: we could go walk in Miss Maudie’s yard and waste her snow instead. Dissension existed between Jem and Miss Maudie –while Jem said the snow was beautiful, she said it wasn’t because it would freeze her azaleas. She told us we could take all her snow since it was freezing her plants. Jem went to Miss Maudie’s back yard and collected baskets of dirt and snow, which was kind of a mess. I thought it wouldn’t work but he took handfuls of dirt and built it into the body of our nigger snowman. It looked like Miss Crawford but he continued his plan. He suddenly said, “Mr. Avery’s sort of shaped like a snowman, ain’t he?” We conspired to make a Mr. Avery snowman; he grabbed snow and put it on the mud, letting me only cover the back. Then we added eyes, nose, mouth, and buttons, and a stick of stove wood to make him look cross.

            When Atticus got home, he lionized Jem and admired our creation, but then obligated us to disguise the fellow because it was wrong to make caricatures of the neighbors. In the afternoon it stopped snowing and I went to sleep with coal on the fire in my room; it seemed like a long time had elapsed when Atticus woke me up. I interrogated him –trying to figure out what was the matter. I then assimilated that something was wrong in our neighborhood: Miss Maudie’s house was on fire! We did as told, and Jem and me walked towards the Radley Place, leaving behind the calamitous scene. We saw as the men in our neighborhood, including Atticus, helped get Miss Maudie’s things out of the burning house. Even with the gigantic fire I was shivering from the cold. Fire trucks came to the rescue and tried to extinguish the fire; but the roof burned and the house collapsed.

            Atticus led us home and offered us hot chocolate. He was staring at me and I didn’t know why. “Whose blanket is that?” I didn’t know what he was talking about, looked down, and saw a brown blanket around my shoulders. I turned to ask Jem for an answer and we both apprehended –Boo Radley had put it around my arms so I wouldn’t be cold. I could believe we hadn’t seen him! We were so close…         

            

June, I Miss You

Dear June,

         How are you? It seems like ages elapsed since I last saw you; 20 years seems more than a lifetime. How are you doing with Neil? I miss both of you so much! I hope you are doing great, and please, let me see you sometime soon. The pink house is so bizarre without May –after the calamity- and then without you. 

         I know we always had dissensions in mostly everything when I first got to Tiburon –and I still remember the time I was about to touch Black Mary’s heart but passed out because it seemed that you hated me; it was impossible to get along with you. But something that will also stay in my mind forever is rolling on the floor next to you, laughing under the shining sun –the moment when we finally became friends. I apprehended then why we couldn’t get along, you thought we were TOO different, but in that moment you realized we were two girls laughing at the same thing –we were actually very alike.

         I knew the moment to get along with each other had to come. I tried to be meticulous near you, but you always found something wrong. And surprisingly, I find myself thanking you for that because it made me stronger. You made me a better person, June; in many ways.

         Things are fine, let’s say perfect, here in the pink house –only August and I; and the bees and black Mary. It’s not that their company isn’t enough –I love them all- but I miss the times when we were all together. Sometimes Rosaleen and Zach come visit. Now I can be with Zach whenever I want. I interrogate them every time they come, don’t be amazed if the next time I see you I do the same. I miss them terribly, too.

         The days are sweltering, but beautiful, and we usually go out and watch the bees getting lost in their secret life of honey making. August is very proud of me because I’ve become a writer. She lionizes me sometimes, and Zach and Rosaleen do too. But I tell them I’m the same Lily, no need for exaggeration.

I’ve been writing mainly about my life. How everything came to be what it is –it’s interesting if you put it all together. About my many mothers –including you. That’s one of the reasons I need to see you again. The other one is that I miss you. I anxiously await a response.

Love,

Lily Owens