Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Poetry - 2012

Here are some of the poems I wrote for my poetry 355 class this past semester. My enjoyment writing these pieces have caused me to want to write more in the future and see where this style of writing can take me. My professor, Pablo Peschiera, really fueled my interest in poetry when I took his poetry 255 class my sophomore year, and I really felt like I found my poetic voice in 2012.

Many thanks go to Pablo, Julia Windom for all of her beautiful illustrations (some which you'll see below), my classmates for encouraging me to keep writing, my loving family for their peace and comfort, my friends for always asking to read my poems, and my God for giving me this life and this opportunity to write.

Please enjoy!


His love

His eyes sparkled when the time arrived
to hold his newborn son in joyful love.
“Fantastic Parenting” – a class he’d teach;
a drawing pad for his boy to sketch.
He filmed his children in their younger years
and now they reminisce and laugh till tears.
The love of sports comes from those weary days
of playing catch and shooting hoops till dark.
Another thousand counted baseball cards;
a seventh-inning sneak in at the park.
Alarm is set early for a run:
Those steps that keep inspiring his son.
A humble take on life and steady faith
have caused his kids to feel God’s soothing breath.
Devoted to spending time with his son,
his grandkids will feel this same father’s love.


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Illustration by Julia Windom
























Snowman

Siblings know they’ll fight the brisk;
hands in gloves to stop the bite.
Mom thinks this could be a risk;
they think they could build all night.

Hands in gloves to stop the bite
as scarves wrap tight and old boots squeeze.
They think they could build all night;
Dad thinks they can fight the freeze.

As scarves wrap tight and old boots squeeze,
Mom demands they stay inside.
Dad thinks they can fight the freeze;
they know mom is wasting time.

Mom demands they stay inside.
Sister grabs the coal and carrot.
They know mom is wasting time,
brother simply cannot bear it.

Sister grabs the coal and carrot,
Mom and Dad go back and forth,
brother simply cannot bear it;
It’s December twenty-fourth.

Mom and dad go back and forth,
siblings march right out the door.
It’s December twenty-fourth:
“This is what we’ve waited for!”

Siblings march right out the door,
Mom thinks this could be a risk.
“This is what we’ve waited for!”
Siblings know they’ll fight the brisk.

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Childhood in St. Louis

I remember chasing fireflies
I remember jumping over logs
I remember long vacation drives
I remember collecting pogs

I remember loving Pokémon
I remember shining holographics
I remember hating Digimon
I remember Gyarados and Onix

I remember Radio Disney
I remember playing the recorder
I remember Avril, Christina, and Britney
I remember collecting quarters

I remember the hours on AIM
I remember all Dad’s basketball games
I remember selling lemonade
I remember cold lunch trades

I remember football in the snow
I remember trips to Toys “R” Us
I remember loving The Amanda Show
I remember how that was

And I kind of miss it.

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Illustration by Julia Windom

























Cold Weather

The leaves will fall and I will take
the first few steps on my own track.
Imminent grey will own the skies,
again the fiercest frost will bite.

A harsh, wet winter stirs and stings—
No doubt the time for cheery songs.
All this time I’ve just been walking
soft, slow strides as cold keeps clinging.

The snow subsides and starts its melt;
warmth takes presence, causing sweat.
No more footprints upon my path—
My home is where I’ll travel back.

I walked in coolness on my own,
found myself and asking now:
What did I learn? I’ll always be
content with cold and mad at heat.

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Illustration by Julia Windom


























Winter Day

When I see the earth outside
my window overtaken by white,
I put holiday music on low,
make a cup of hot cocoa,
watch a car drive slow,
and enjoy the snow show.

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Shooting Streak

For at least 20 minutes
I put the rock in my hands
every day—outside, in the gym,
on my own, in front of fans.

A decision was made and
some friends were upset.
The ball stopped bouncing
and the net got a rest.

In May I chose running,
so the shooting lost its place
in a daily routine
that lasted over 1700 days.

Ending the streak was sad,
but I sure learned a lot.
As my dad always told me,
“Make your last shot.”

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Illustration by Julia Windom























Pal

Claiming a spot in the corner
with arms ready to embrace,
friend of mine
helps me with writing this line.

Never talks and never listens,
yet he can comfort for weeks.
Eagerly,
sends me to dreams easily.

Green in hue but always healthy,
next to a fresh window view,
Arms extend
as we begin to pretend.

Homework due with no time to spare,
you know I’m chilling with you.
Time to share
another night with my chair.

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Old School

To picture school with no computers
twists my mind and hurts my head.
Now the Internet’s a student’s suitor.
To picture school with no computers!
There had to be a line for tutors;
papers were written in ink and lead.
To picture school with no computers
twists my mind and hurts my head.

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Illustration by Julia Windom























Park Bench

A bench for two to sit,
to chat about the world,
awaits the college folk
about to take a seat.

The future owns their minds
as plans begin to fade.
They still won’t know what to do
when school will finally end.

The question plagues us all:
And what will you do next?
Sometimes they draw a blank---
This phase of life is tough.

They watch some children play
and slip down slides in cheer.
These college folk just say,
“We miss our younger years.”

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The Miler

People doubted and laughed in his face
when he told them he’d run a 3:59 mile.
They made him eager to train and to race.

He hired a coach and found the right place
to work his butt off and focus while
people doubted and laughed in his face.

He polished his form and built up his base,
did some speed on a track. He learned from trials;
doubters made him eager to train and to race.

He was getting faster and making his case,
becoming one of the country’s best in the mile.
No more doubting and laughing in his face.

In his biggest race yet he was right on pace—
ran a 3:57 mile and after he thanked with smiles
those who made him eager to train and to race.

He’s still improving, getting better every day.
If you ask him how he got here, here’s what he’d say:
“People doubted and laughed in my face.
They made me eager to train and to race.”

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Illustration by Julia Windom




















My Van and I

I told my parents I’d like to travel.
They asked me where I’d like to go.
I thought for a second and let out a laugh:
“That’s a good question ‘cause I don’t know.”
Puzzled looks took over their faces,
and then they told me I needed a plan.
In my mind I knew what I needed:
Some cash in my pocket and a cozy used van.
Driving around to explore the world
is where my fiery passion lies.
My parents allowed me to do what I wanted—
The toughest part was the teary goodbyes.
My van and I, we discover surreal things.
I can’t describe the fun travel brings.

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Illustration by Julia Windom
























Bear Flight

A bear escaped the zoo!
A baby cried, a monkey died,
A cow let out a “Moo.”

A bear escaped the zoo!
A man told me to run and hide
From angry kangaroos.

A bear escaped the zoo!
Many people screamed in fright
And got a better view.

A bear escaped the zoo!
My eyes got wide, the bear took flight—
This really can’t be true!

A bear escaped the zoo!
It’s flying high into the sky;
It left behind four shoes.

A bear escaped the zoo!
I tell you this without a lie—
It’s flying to the moon.

A bear escaped the zoo!
I waved goodbye and then I sighed.
Why did I let it loose?

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I hope these poems help to spark memories, appreciate family, and inspire others to give writing a try.

Let love and peace fly high and wide,

-James Waldon