WEFOUNDSeeing Stars: Poems


The great thing about poetry is that there is no right or wrong way to do it. But a good poem is one that can be shared with others to discover they like it too.

A poem doesn’t need to rhyme, it can be free verse or other poetry type.  As long as it has a scientific or nature theme and was created by you, it will be considered.

I have a dream to go to space
because space is an amazing place.
In space, stars shine like little lights.
I’d love to touch their mighty heights.

The great thing about poetry is that there is no right or wrong way to do it. But a good poem is one that can be shared with others to discover they like it too.

A poem doesn’t need to rhyme, it can be free verse or other poetry type.  As long as it has a scientific or nature theme and was created by you, it will be considered.

I have a dream to go to space
because space is an amazing place.
In space, stars shine like little lights.
I’d love to touch their mighty heights.

At this risk of sounding like I’m quoting a line cut from  The Sound of Music : how do you hold a semester’s worth of poetic reading in mind at the end of that experience?

But the end of a semester calls for reflection; how do you synthesize months’ worth of disparate readings in retrospect? We had been using our words all semester; I decided that we would visualize instead. The students split into four groups: thematic, formal, temporal, and spatial. Their task was to draw (literally) connections between the semester’s various readings. Listening in on each group’s conversations, the wealth of remembered poetry coupled with the lack of (or rather, refusal of) easy categorical certainty was heartening to hear.

In the temporal group, which decided to create a timeline, I heard questions about origins – how far back did such a timeline need to travel into the past to do justice to traditions and lineages? In the spatial group, I heard discussion of how the poets themselves might want their sense of “place” located on a map if their country of origin no longer existed as it did when they lived there, or if they became a refugee, immigrated, had undocumented citizenship, lived in exile. They brought in string and thumbtacks and created a map like a cat’s-cradle—poets still connected to their origins:

Look inside,
See what you see,
Deep black hole,
Inside the galaxy,
That is me,
No heart,
Soul,
Love,
Hate,
Feelings,
Emotions
Not hot,
Cold,
Dead,
Alive,
Just endless emptyness,
As far as the eye's can see.
Colin Bradley.

Torture is not seeing the one whom you love
Whether mother, father, brother or sister
If a girl you have just started loving now
Her absence will cause to heart blister
To love and kindness, all Angels bow
As peace of mind, both can muster
A heart with no love is a veritable Hell
As short it will be in peace I now tell
To comfort all, use wisely love-petal
When loved ones turn away from us
The torture undergone will be severe
Their presence gives peace in surplus
Love has the Divine power to interfere

when you spoke
about sex
you always said
the pillow talk
afterwards was
your favorite part
you said you’d
love to be
with me and
share what was
in your heart

The great thing about poetry is that there is no right or wrong way to do it. But a good poem is one that can be shared with others to discover they like it too.

A poem doesn’t need to rhyme, it can be free verse or other poetry type.  As long as it has a scientific or nature theme and was created by you, it will be considered.

I have a dream to go to space
because space is an amazing place.
In space, stars shine like little lights.
I’d love to touch their mighty heights.

At this risk of sounding like I’m quoting a line cut from  The Sound of Music : how do you hold a semester’s worth of poetic reading in mind at the end of that experience?

But the end of a semester calls for reflection; how do you synthesize months’ worth of disparate readings in retrospect? We had been using our words all semester; I decided that we would visualize instead. The students split into four groups: thematic, formal, temporal, and spatial. Their task was to draw (literally) connections between the semester’s various readings. Listening in on each group’s conversations, the wealth of remembered poetry coupled with the lack of (or rather, refusal of) easy categorical certainty was heartening to hear.

In the temporal group, which decided to create a timeline, I heard questions about origins – how far back did such a timeline need to travel into the past to do justice to traditions and lineages? In the spatial group, I heard discussion of how the poets themselves might want their sense of “place” located on a map if their country of origin no longer existed as it did when they lived there, or if they became a refugee, immigrated, had undocumented citizenship, lived in exile. They brought in string and thumbtacks and created a map like a cat’s-cradle—poets still connected to their origins:

Look inside,
See what you see,
Deep black hole,
Inside the galaxy,
That is me,
No heart,
Soul,
Love,
Hate,
Feelings,
Emotions
Not hot,
Cold,
Dead,
Alive,
Just endless emptyness,
As far as the eye's can see.
Colin Bradley.

Torture is not seeing the one whom you love
Whether mother, father, brother or sister
If a girl you have just started loving now
Her absence will cause to heart blister
To love and kindness, all Angels bow
As peace of mind, both can muster
A heart with no love is a veritable Hell
As short it will be in peace I now tell
To comfort all, use wisely love-petal
When loved ones turn away from us
The torture undergone will be severe
Their presence gives peace in surplus
Love has the Divine power to interfere

when you spoke
about sex
you always said
the pillow talk
afterwards was
your favorite part
you said you’d
love to be
with me and
share what was
in your heart

Uninvited, hither we came
And, without leave, departed hence.
What reason here for agony
Other than regret, as we shall meet again?

I crossed many rivers and mountains
Obstacles overcome with nary a care.
During my earthly journey,
Hope did not hurt anyone in my path.

I plead, my friends or foes
Do not hinder my ascent to the Heavens
Thro’ love or longing, other than regret.
Remember me, as I will remember you
Across that golden shore.

The great thing about poetry is that there is no right or wrong way to do it. But a good poem is one that can be shared with others to discover they like it too.

A poem doesn’t need to rhyme, it can be free verse or other poetry type.  As long as it has a scientific or nature theme and was created by you, it will be considered.

I have a dream to go to space
because space is an amazing place.
In space, stars shine like little lights.
I’d love to touch their mighty heights.

At this risk of sounding like I’m quoting a line cut from  The Sound of Music : how do you hold a semester’s worth of poetic reading in mind at the end of that experience?

But the end of a semester calls for reflection; how do you synthesize months’ worth of disparate readings in retrospect? We had been using our words all semester; I decided that we would visualize instead. The students split into four groups: thematic, formal, temporal, and spatial. Their task was to draw (literally) connections between the semester’s various readings. Listening in on each group’s conversations, the wealth of remembered poetry coupled with the lack of (or rather, refusal of) easy categorical certainty was heartening to hear.

In the temporal group, which decided to create a timeline, I heard questions about origins – how far back did such a timeline need to travel into the past to do justice to traditions and lineages? In the spatial group, I heard discussion of how the poets themselves might want their sense of “place” located on a map if their country of origin no longer existed as it did when they lived there, or if they became a refugee, immigrated, had undocumented citizenship, lived in exile. They brought in string and thumbtacks and created a map like a cat’s-cradle—poets still connected to their origins:


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