Poems with a Paintbrush
Amir, 5th grade
In The Realm of Springtime
Bending over the flower
She sprinkles dust in the dry air
The moss has a glow at her feet
But the bushes cloud her way
Because she is lost
In the realm of springtime
The branches brush over her
She trips on roots
Slithering out of the ground
The wear and tear of the forest
Placed an arrangement of leaves on her hair
But she doesn’t mind
In the realm of springtime
Her dress is torn
Her hair is on her nose
The mud trickles down her knee
Yet there is hope
Glowing on the horizon
Until it passes by like forgotten wind
In the realm of springtime
When all else fails
She looks to the sky sitting
Till darkness falls
Then she lies
On a bed of leaves
And looks up upon the stars
In the realm of springtime
The Spirit of Freedom
When the mist fades I climb it
I climb to the top of the mountain
My heart in my shoes
And I look at myself in a very glum light
And think how I could improve my actions
Then I change my stream of thought to a
Cheerful, colorful smiling light
And then I remember all the terrible things in the world
Like war, and, slavery, and so forth
And think how small my actions are compared to these things
However, then I think how one action can start a war
Like a pin misplaced on the countertop can cause a search for it
And I remember that I shouldn’t have done those things at all
No matter how small they are
Then, I realize I am in fault with myself
So I sit down while the mist fades away
And while I frown at my shoes I sigh
Then I look up into the bright morning, the sun blinding my eyes
And in the distance
I see a horse galloping, galloping, and galloping
And though he has done some bad things
He never minds it because he knows
That it will pass like forgotten mist
And the spirit of freedom tells him
Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop
And sometimes the spirit of freedom tells me that too
When I sit on a hill
In the bright morning light
Till the mist fades away
On a Day in August
When the chariot of gold
Rests in the sky
An elderly woman not that far calls for her dog
And then the children play ball
Yelling, shouting, and screaming in delight
On a day in August
The grass is an unsatisfying yellow
Yet there’s all but hate in the world
The baby takes her first steps
And the parents stand side by side
Their loving hands open wide
On a day in August
Then, the man in the chariot
Becomes overly satisfied
And takes his horses
And heads toward the west
And the day in August
Is one mere memory
Kadoka Gklahunam
Kadoka Gklahunam
What a marvelous place
Where the cats are green
And there is nothing to be seen
My little town in Indiana
Where nothing ever happens
Kadoka Gklahunam
It’s all upside down
The ceiling is on the floor
I have to imagine it all
But my little town is nothing
To permit me from dreaming
Kadoka Gklahunam
The buildings are seventy stories high
Not like the one floor complex
That they call my school
In the little town in Indiana
Where nothing ever happens
Kadoka Gklahunam
It is not a reality
But what is to keep me from dreaming
In my little town in Indiana
Where nothing ever happens
Of a world that exists no more
Sonnet #2 (Mother and Daughter)
The start of life and sweetness fills the room
She grins, though the sweet one does not notice
Father puts fresh pillows under her head
Then the mother shows the baby the world
It all seems rather strange to the young one
The bedposts jutting out like stone monsters
The bed cloth tickling her jumpy feet
The pillow irritating her itchy neck
And yet in spite of all these bizarre things
Her mother’s arms seem a haven to her
And all fears disappear when she feels them
The baby falls into a gentle sleep
How joyous is the scene of endless love
Of a daughter and mother together
The West
In this land they call the west
Anything is possible
The clouds, a seemingly endless gray
Part with the slightest breeze
Where the dust sinks into the desert
And the air is hot and humid
The sun sets over the ocean
The ships dock waiting to soar
The mountains topped with snow
Stare down at the many things below
The wheat fields lower their heavy heads
To bow at the moon and the stars
From the plains to the desert
From the mountains to the ocean
This is the land where anything is possible
This is the West.