oh fiddlesticks

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Poetry By: Michaela Kim

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Page 1: Oh Fiddlesticks

PoetryBy: Michaela Kim

Page 2: Oh Fiddlesticks

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Ballad Poem page 1

The Opposite Path page 2

Summer page 3-4

The Beach page 5

A Girl page 6-7

Ten Minutes page 8-9

Contradictions (Metaphor) page 10-11

Cross page 12

Cookies page 13

Scar page 14

Page 3: Oh Fiddlesticks

The night was young as were the guests

So drinks and smiles were shared.

Soon the noise got out of control

And turned to fights they dared.

All the laughter suddenly ceased

And fists were thrown everywhere.

The flirting stopped and the drinks spilled

And the eyes would just glare.

Page 4: Oh Fiddlesticks

The Opposite PathTitle of Work: Two Sisters (On the Terrace)Artist: Pierre Auguste Renoir

Spring has risenAnd the birds are calling.The vine are flowingAnd the breeze is whispering.

They are two sisters,Alone but together.One gazes far beyondHer curiosity craving for more.The other has satisfactionWritten in her e yes.She longs for no change,She craves for nothing.

They walk off the terrace,Leaving the green behind.They walk in opposite directions,One looking for simplicityAnd the other looking for adventure.

The terrace of greenIs their only sanctuaryTo be together,Before they finally part.

Page 5: Oh Fiddlesticks

Summer

Title of work: Surfside ParkArtist: William Lewis

A day in the summerIs like a walk in the park.The people blend inLike harmony.Oh William, It truly shows.

The blotches of whiteFrom his brush,Balances the light.The stroke of blueFrom his brush,Completes the painting.

The grey buildingsStanding far backCalls your name.Home sweet home,It whispers.

The smiles are welcomingThe aurora smells peaceful,Sweet and young.

It’s a day in the summer,A day of a dream.It’s his place,It’s his home,It is he.

Page 6: Oh Fiddlesticks

The BeachTitle of work: Beach at CabassonArtist: Henri Edmond Cross

They are of threeOf the same mother.Their tanless skinBlend in to the pale sand.

The air is silentOnly the calm waves are heard. The sky is red,The blue fading away.

Their eyes are dull,Staring off into the distance.The sand is fraud,Hard and thicker.

The shadows layBeneath the three.The black ghosts belowWonder what’s next.It’s dusk,It is motionless.

The sun is falling,Yet silence is still in the air.

Page 7: Oh Fiddlesticks

A GirlTitle of work: The Girl by the WindowArtist: Edward Munch

I am a girl,A girl of dreams.I sing my songs,I dream my dreams.I am a girl.

I’m a girlStaring out. I peak out,Out of the hard transparent walls.I look out, And I see the world.

My white, stainless gownIs unmarked.Unmarked of its journeys, Clean from its lack of work.

I am a girl,Locked in my room.The door is paintedAnd the window is my only escape.I stare beyond the distance,Beyond the yellow lights.I want to be out thereI want to leave.I am a girl,And I just want to be free.

Page 8: Oh Fiddlesticks

Ten Minutes

When the bell sounds,

It marks the start of the next ten minutes.

The next ten minutes when the

snake is set free. He slinks around,

place to place, with his fiery, charcoal eyes

searching for my mysterious, serene ones.

Within these ten minutes, everyone is

Shuffling to their next destination.

Within these ten minutes, he

Sets out to fulfill his duty.

His duty to find and to conquer.

His pride and ego radiates through

The corridors of the school.

He makes himself known

And seen. As the cold-blood

passes me, his current victim,

He whispering words become

Louder than the gossiping hallways.

The vulgar words and the obscene comments

Knife towards me, as I stare beyond

This encounter avoiding his promising eyes

That will never quit until the day I no longer

Walk the halls of this building.

It was yesterday, it is today,

And it will be tomorrow.

Page 9: Oh Fiddlesticks

Contradictions.

You are…Black and white,Two colors so perfectBut so wrong.Shining as the bright amber sparksLighting up the dark night.Two selfish colorsChewing up and swallowing all past.Dull as the starless sky,A caution sign under radar.The taste of cheap alcohol,But the smell of smoke.A punch of the face, But the adrenaline rush.

Blurry to a perfect eye,A ring on the wrong finger. A failed final, a failed exam.The minimum passing gradeMoving you forward to the next level. Illegal music, pirated songs.But a guilty conscious to a found bill. Two papers glued together,A silent jet flying off into the night.Like eating cereal for dinnerAnd steak for breakfast.Like an approaching rainstormDuring a cloudless, humid summer day.Tangled hair with no end.

Black and white,Not the same. Two selfish colorsBouncing back and forth.Two tennis balls in one match.Black and white,Darling and horrific.Murky as a foggy lifeless light,With the full moon smiling brightly to down below.A snapshot, a photographWith no colors.A black and white photographWith nothing to give and nothing to hide.A limitation.You are a contradiction.

Page 10: Oh Fiddlesticks

This is me, this is me.

What do you see?

You see a girl, a girl

Of five feet. A girlOf seventeen. Shy and

Small, never seen. I look like you, I smell like you. I am no different. But I wear a necklace, to escape the bareness. It hangs

from my neck, no longer naked. It’s silver, it’s small. It’s never noticed. To me and to everyone, it is forgotten. I am the youngest, of both sides. I am the last, their last hope. As years go on, I am placed within walls. Walls miles above. Time is ticking, and sand is running out. Disappoint roams the air. A

tongue click that ruins a day. So I am the last. I am normal, just like you. Normal, but with a cross hanging. The walls are closing, with no escape. The piece of silver hanging from my neck, becomes

heavier and heavier. The burdens no longer sit on my shoulders, it sits on the silver. The forgotten piece of silver I never cared for. It pulls me down as days pass by. As years pass by, this is it.

This is me, this is me.What do you see?A girl of smiles, joy

And laughter.

A girl trying to fit in,

Hoping not to be seen.

This is me, this is me.

The burdens pile,

And the necklace

Becomes too heavy.

But for three years, it

Has never budged.

Weight of the cross

Has made me smaller.

But this is my last.

My last hope,

From collapsing.

Page 11: Oh Fiddlesticks

Cookies

Forgive me, but

The crime committed,

I admit to.

The evidence I tossed,

Fingerprints disappeared.

It was irresistible.

I licked it clean,

Your cookie jar.

In case you were wondering,

They were delicious

Page 12: Oh Fiddlesticks

I didn’t see it coming,It was small and fast.The sun was young,

And so was I.

Laughs ran through the gym,I knew no one but him

Then it came.Small and fast.

My eye could no longer open,Just oneNot both.

Pain and tears.

An older brother,A tennis ball.It’s dark,

And it’s brown.It looks okay.

Only I know,And he knows,

What truly happened.

Page 13: Oh Fiddlesticks

Poetry Reflection

During the poetry unit, I learned different types of ways to write a poem. I like to free write,

which is the reason why I took this class, and some of my free writes have been poems. It was

kind of challenging because the poems I would write would just be my words, my feelings, and

very simple and direct. There were no secret meanings or any other deeper thoughts than the

words I would write. It was hard to follow the directions and complete the specifics for each

task, and I don’t feel confident because the majority of my written poems during this unit aren’t

my real words or tone. Even so, I did learn the different ways to write a poem. I enjoyed the

entire unit as a whole because it now helps me to write different poems with different voices and

meanings. I can now write poems with deeper meanings. I have never been good at analyzing

poems as a whole, so this unit also definitely helped me learn. My feelings about poems haven’t

really changed, it still is the best way to express my emotions and feelings whatever the situation

is. I have a broader feel of poems. I realize now that I don’t have to be direct with my words to

show and describe how I feel or what emotions are going through me. The three poems I have

chosen are my metaphor poem, my concrete poem, and my apology poem. I chose the metaphor

poem because it was the poem that was the hardest for me to write. I had to write with indirect

words. I chose the concrete poem because it uses my words and my thoughts. You can tell that I

wrote this poem, and it describes me very well. It’s the most poem like me, and I really like that.

The third poem I chose is the apology poem because its very simple and I think it’s kind of

adorable.