About the Poems

I like writing poetry. It's not something I would do in my spare time, though. Anyway, it wasn't too difficult for me to write these poems. The revision did help in some ways, but I just ended up switching around a couple of words. But what I enjoyed most about the process is the results I got in the end.
My favorite of the three poems is "What's Tea?" because I like the tone and what's happening. It's strange, though, because I'm not a big fan of history. Now the poem that I think needs some more work is "Magic" because it rhymes and - to me - it sounds a little childish. Yet I'm keeping it the way it is. I wish, though, I put more descriptive words in the poem. The problem for me was that I couldn't find the right spot for good, descriptive words.

The voice of my poems are nearly all different. I'd say that my "Sand" poem is a bit more seriously descriptive than the other two because it's dealing with art. The "Magic" poem just sounds like an amateur wrote it. No, I'm not declaring that I'm a guru of poetry or anything. I am just an amateur in the 'art' of poetry like nearly everybody else. Anyway, the voice of "What's Tea?" is kind of laid back and friendly because historical poems can get very boring - to me - if they are too serious. Moving on now! I used a sound in my historical poem. I used splash just to make it more 'creative' in some kind of way and to remind the readers that there is water below. I'm required to write at least three stylistic elements that help convey the meaning of my poems so the last one is that I didn't really use any diction. I guess you could say that the last poem is someone or something talking to someone.

Meh . . . Look at me typing up a storm. I'll shall end it here!

What's Tea?

I think the water needs

Originally painted by Nathaniel Currier

some flavoring.

Your task?

Don’t worry, it’s an easy one.

Just board those 

three ships over there

and drop those crates into the water.

Yes, those crates over there.

You know . . . Boxes made of 

wood?

The stuff inside of it

smells strange.

I’d like for you to 

dispose of it.

Photo Credit: Boston Tea Party Historical Society

Dispose of it properly, though.

How? 

I already told you.

Pick them up 

and drop them into the water.

How many ships?

Only three.

How many crates?

Only 342 of them.

Why don’t you go gather

up your friends and

dress in a disguise? 

I’m sure you have

lots of friends.

Maybe even around

Photo Credit: Boston Tea Party Ship

130 of them.

Sorry, but am I asking for too much?

If it helps, not all of you

have to dress up.

You only have to take those crates

and toss them into the water - Splash!

How?

I already told you.

Pick them up 

and drop them into the water.

One last thing . . .

What’s tea?

Magic

Photo Credit: josieray

The sound of the snake’s tongue,

A burst of deathly green light.

The winged golden sphere,

Magical phrases now fight.

A man clothed in flowing black,                             

Photo Credit: NerdBirdWeb

Pictures come to life upon the walls.

The bathtub filled with bubbles,

A mysterious egg calls.

A cup of blue fire,

The stone of blood red.

Water that reveals memories,

Ghosts of people more alive than dead.

Part of his soul 

is trapped inside.

Of a boy with a cousin 

who is too well fed.

A wanted man he becomes 

near the end

The boy who lived 

with a scar upon his head.

Sand

Drawing done by Betsy Yang

A statue of sand

on the bank of the water.

String comes together

in a never-ending weave

feeding into the earth.

Nature adorns herself

on the hills of the clouds

where the sun meets the sky.

Eyes left an endless, blank

stare.

An emotionless face

that tells no story.

Yet a fortune is told

about a lost city

where hope shines above

and dreams flow below.