When we were kids,
we were made of rubber.
We just bounced when we hit the floor.
The harder we hit,
the higher we bounced.
We fall down now,
and we just break.
By Mandy Webster (more…)
I wrote this poem in the middle of the night. I’m sure you can deduce what I was doing at the time from the poem.
I’d never even heard of Sweetest Day before I moved to Wisconsin. So for years, I’ve largely ignored it. It’s always seemed to me like just another fake holiday developed by the jewelry and flower industries to generate revenue right before the big holiday push. This year, I am observing the day with my sweetest. However, likely without jewelry or flowers. And with that, here’s a little poem I hope will make you think twice before blowing your hard-earned cash on roses this year.
Bring Me Weeds
If you’re going
to bring me flowers,
bring me weeds. (more…)
This semester, I’ve been taking a course on writing poetry for children and young adults. I’ve never really thought of myself as much of a poet, but I thought it would be good to push myself out of my comfort zone and give it a shot.
As it turns out, I’ve learned quite a bit about language and words that will probably help me in my other writing. I would recommend at least one poetry class for every aspiring author, poet or non.
And as long as I have to write a poem every week, I thought it might be fun to share my poems with you. So here’s a Halloween poem for you, inspired by my childhood fear of catching a glimpse of my own reflection in the window at night: (more…)