Okay, so if you've ever been in an Honors English class, you might have had alot of projects. That is exactly what we do in my class. Projects, projects, projects. We just finished up a poetry project. (I know, yuck) That is exactly what I was thinking when we first got our rubrics. We had to select 3 poems that we liked and print them off. Easy.Then we had to write three of our own pertaining specific formats and titles. I will show you exactly what i wrote down for brainstorming.
Location: Church, school, arena, middle of nowhere, lost.
Emotion: Alone, empty, overjoy that doesn't come often, death and leaving loved ones, being trapped in a crack of splitting. (That last one made total sense to me when I wrote it down, but afterwards, I was like 'What the heck did I mean by that?' :) )
Activity: Reading(getting lost in a book), Singing.
Now here's what I came up with, and these poems don't have titles.
Church is where I'd rather be,
Everyday if I could.
The one place that calms me,
Even though its fireplace never burns wood.
Two times a week comes my family and me,
It never feels more than we should.
Church is where I always want to be,
It never gets old, but is never quite new.
(That last line didn't fit, but my H.E. teacher said it was fine because he couldn't think of anything either.)
In a different world everyday,
Individually fighting crimes and being crowned a queen.
Inviting dragons over to play,
Into a world of books; to read the lines between.
When out of this world I am thrown,
Why my different lives come to an end.
Why I'm disrupted isn't unknown, for
When I read I must be alone.
(And my personal favorite)
An empty void I often feel,
Unsure whether to try and figure it out.
No purpose to fufill is real,
This feeling inside-out.
This nothingness I am paralyzed from,
Still doesn't quite make sense,
No gong on a drum,
No therapy fragrance,
Can relieve me from this state of mind.
My life doesn't away from me peel,
I still have my conscience without a doubt.
My brain back to wiring and steel,
It seems like water again surrounds this trout.
All it takes is a spontaneous snap.
A twitch of awareness, a sense of react.
To bound me out of this mind-trap.
And that, my friends, is a fact.