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Poetry on My Own Identity
Kaydi Chou
11 Jul 2004
ME POEM
There are a lot of Me poems out there Describing their writers with wit.
But mine, However, Is honest And calm And true.
There are no similes But straight facts, No metaphors But astounding bluntness.
Ok,
So some of the edges Of the harsh words Are softened,
And a splash Of femininity Runs across the page.
But I am a writer. That is what I do.
I'll write my Me poem On pink paper Sprayed with bright citrus Perfume.
But I will write in print, Not cursive, Because my Me poem Will not be that feminine.
And in between the lines I'll add myself- My curiosity, My creativity, My caring nature.
Through my poem, People will see Me.
They will see my pain And suffering Through the troubles I have faced Which will be Blazoned in my passionate words.
My love for life Jesus And others Will shine through Letters like L, O, V, and E.
The way I hold my hands, The way I touch my face, And the way I carry Myself Will be there For everyone to see, As told by the noble Diction that I will choose.
People will know Who I am Through my Me poem.
They will know my laugh, My song, My message, Which will be proclaimed With subtle curiosity.
Every shade I am, Every tinge I turn, Every color I fade Into Will be seen In the black printed ink.
For my poem Will be a Me poem, And like its name, It will be just like me.
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CHINESE RESTAURANT
Sit sit sit The door creaks open Then shuts closed The monotony lulls in the angel choir
Lord Lord Lord
And the pictures on the walls Of cherry trees and pale Chinese maidens Stand still and quiet in silent hopes That people will come again.
Clink tink tink The crooked dirty silverware Slides around in grimy plastic bins As eaten food Glides around on chipped porcelain
Red lanterns Braised beef And steamy kitchen smells Sift through the "In" and "Out" doors With open candidness
Little fish in big tanks Big fish in little tanks Like the people in the booths
Credit cards And cash money Come in and out Babies scream and everone stares "Can I get some take out?"
Paid and waiting Hunan chicken Sesame beef Painful feet
Damn shoes
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BRICK-A-BRACK RHYME
Hearts of the unprotected The rejected The infected Blur in the light of the sun Where sins are shame And shame is blame That rots to pieces down the run
So join hands And throw your troubles into the center of the circle Where children cry And parents lie All to avoid the trouble
Of understanding The demandings Of life at its troubled best So throw your trouble Like the spit Kept in your empty chest
Hollow words Are hallowed By the ears of Time While the colors Of white lies Are seen solely by the blind
And the creepings Of tea steepings Drunk by English rhyme Are made common by The wicked men Who eat cake laced with thyme
And time will only tell Of the sins of all the Men From William Tell To sweet Adele And all thereforth within
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SUMMER RAINY DAYS
If you looked into my eyes And discovered all the lies That have built up And regulated over the years
Would you cry And stretch out your hand In a futile last attempt To save me?
Or would you allow me to fall to my death Upon the breath Of a quick wind?
Oh sweet bitter Cold wind Life me up and float me away to another summer day
Where it will rain And I can sit there And feel the empty pain Of all the lies I have told Conceived in every raindrop
Like Karma Like Sin Like the Golden Rule Let the pain And the hate Come back to me Which I have started
I am not afraid to die Even if on the inside I am not afriad To let my empty shell Smile and laugh On a sunny day
When it will rain And all the smiles will be pain And all laughs will be empty
It matters little what I do For I am one of many It matters little what I say For many just make of it a mockery
But it matters much for what I cry For tears only fall once Before they are lost to the world
So let me die Sweet bitter Cold Wind Come fly me away To a summer day Where it will always rain And I can feel the pain.
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THE END
A shadow in the corner Huddled beneath the dark Breathes softly Icy breath that comes in and out in soft white misty vapors
She shifts and moves Greasy hair in dank pieces fall around her face And her stomach rumbles as if driven by demons from Depths
Her slow heartbeat Soft but steady Rattles her little body And her theiving mischieving eyes look around shakily
It is cold and it is dark It is night and no one is around There is but one streetlight that casts distorted shadows on the brick walls of the alleyway
Fingers bared to the cold Shivering getting stronger Along the tops of the buildings Strung are moods of life
Foods and laughter Perfume and calogne Sheer and utter delight In a fantasy too far away and beyond reach for poor little beggar girls
All alone in the dark little alley way With no one to see No one to watch No one watching
Her eyelids fall heavy Things start to blur And empty stomach reminds her it is not too late But the heaviness of boots and clothes and limbs keeps her from moving
Sunken eyes look up into the streetlight It turns orange and then white Her eyes are yellow With a small gasp from her two part'd and chap'd lips
She says, "
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The End is supposed to end that way- in an abrupt stop. It has been said that we are born in a flash of life, and we die in the blink of an eye.
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