Author: monicam2003

March 6, 2020

Nikki Giovanni

If Black History Month is not
viable then wind does not
carry the seeds and drop them
on fertile ground
rain does not
dampen the land
and encourage the seeds
to root
sun does not
warm the earth
and kiss the seedlings
and tell them plain:
You’re As Good As Anybody Else
You’ve Got A Place Here, Too

I think that this poem is talking about how sometimes, during black history month, some people think that it’s not practical and comparing it to things like the sun not warming the earth means that if something like black history month, that is real and practical most not occur also.

is a meadow
after a snowfall
that a poem
hopes to cross

I like that this poem takes the average idea of a blank page and what we think of it. It takes the idea that a blank page can be whatever we want it to be and almost enters another dimension with it, by saying that it’s “a meadow after a snowfall that a poem hopes to cross” which takes the idea that a blank page can be anything you want and saying that people aim to do that with a poem, a fresh start and blank slate for anything whether that may be thoughts or observations for the human mind to wander.

Pillow

When I was eight, I got a lavender

unicorn pillow for Christmas.

I waited with big bright eyes like saucers.

It arrived in a brown cardboard box.

with a smile on the side that could seal my fate.

At first, I didn’t know what was inside.

I was disappointed in the wrapping job, because

my parents hadn’t wrapped it. Once I had opened the

box, I held the pillow up like a trophy. I squealed

in excitement. I was shocked at the gift I had gotten.

It was a big step up from the forgotten dreams of

gifts that I didn’t get, and never would, from my past.

When I was eight, my hopes and dreams could

all be met by a simple package from from Amazon,

with the gift I wanted the most.

I ran to my room afterwards so that I could

sleep with my unicorn pilow pet, that back then

was soft as a million feathers. That unicorn

was the center of my universe, my most

beautiful moment in life.

Sunny Afternoon in The Spring

It was an average sunny afternoon in the spring. The students patiently awaiting for the teacher to speak. Excitement radiates off my mere existence.

We’re sitting at our desks. Wood shiny and worn underneath. Spelling notebooks out. At the front of the room there is a slideshow about word definitions.

The teacher, austere yet unwaveringly kind, reads aloud. Her voice reasonant throughout the room asking the class what the word is for someone who is very giving. She asks, yet no response. Many students sit at their desks, puzzled.

I sit at my desk with my red notebook and suddenly a lightbulb goes off in my head. Generous. The word about giving to others. I knew the answer yet I did not speak aloud, I had already answered a definition that day and I was sure that there must be another word for giving, so I let that word opportunity go.

The teacher finally gives up on out knowing and finally says,”Generous.” I sit at my desk in stunned silence. I’d let an opportunity to show off my skills go to waste because I didn’t want to be seen as a show-off. I was disappointed, but it was only an average sunny afternoon in the spring.

Betrayal

night. He wears many faces and comes in many forms.

You never know when he may strike.

He hides behind your window,

and deep inside your mind.

He could come in the form of a best

friend, or even someone you like.

You can’t hang out with him for long, or pretty soon he’ll have

you lying too.

Taking a walk with you is more fun than going to HEB or Alamo Drafthouse. On our walks we can go anywhere we want. I see the storm drains and I remember the time my flip-flop fell down on a rainy day when I was younger. Times were simpler then. A box of Sunny-D juice could make me the happiest and was one of the things I loved most back then.

Some days we go further and see downtown. Homeless people dealing with their vices, addictions, and problems.

Were times ever simple? Or was I simply not aware? Have I been sleeping my whole life? Why didn’t you tell me?

Yet I continue walking down these streets I’ve grown so accustomed to. The elaborately painted guitars that connect me to Austin’s music history. Celebrities like Willie Nelson have walked down streets like South Congress, 4th or 6th street. Each statue and storefront ties me to the vibrant street life at Austin’s core.

I walk further and see tourists along Lady bird Lake, posing for pictures with the Austin Skyline in the background. To my right I can hear them say “dude come on don’t give me such a fake smile, I need something for the gram” The skyscrapers have become a natural part of the Austin sky.

I love walking with you

I rise up from the dead. I Tear the sheets away from me. I disconnect my phone from it’s snake. And I am at peace.

Prose Poem

It lays there continuously looking at me. It judges me I know it. I’ve spent nights pouring over the information inside. It contains so much knowledge, yet I don’t care. Color explodes in perfect lines all around it. It’s wrinkled, old and ugly. Some of the edges are even torn off.

The table behind my TV is Dusty like furniture in an abandoned house. I’m sitting on my couch thinking that my phone only works because I’m a virgo. I looked out the window and saw my soft cat smelling the bluebonnets in the yard, then cocked his head to listen to the singing birds, tasting the grass around him. From my seat I could feel the clouds in the sky, and hear the testimonies of used furniture. Then I thought of random facts and realized that Beyoncé Knowles was born in Houston Texas. But now my phone won’t work. Maybe I could go to China because iPhones were made in China. Not middlebury. I saw yet another story in the newspaper about how vaccines cause autism. My mom came back home from the store and I asked “Did you secure the bag?” When I was at the zoo the grumpy lion was feeling really lonely. He roared quietly like a trumpet. Beyoncé is so idolized, it’s almost as if she can fly. Mon can think of some crazy things sometimes. In another time, maybe she’ll be able to understand her thoughts. And that carnivorous computer she has will be gone. But the sun only rises at midnight. Everyone’s telling me to calm down but Je suis Calme! The letters on the paper that I was writing danced off the page, as I sit on my couch.

My cat’s rejected me. He’s

left his usual spot. While

he’s gone my mind wanders in circles.

This is the first kind of rejection I’ve

ever encountered. In his absence

I feel nothing. Time seems to

move slower than usual.

I have nothing to do so I

sleep. I wait patiently hoping for his

return. He never comes back. He sits

on my parents bed instead. He really

only ever cares about bedsheets. Or so

I thought. Eventually, as if

he’s read my mind, he returns to me.

Backpack

I am old and faded.

Emptied and filled every

day. I’ve seen

many things but I

have no eyes.

Trumpet

I may appear quiet, but on the inside I can roar as loud as a lion.

I may seem like a show-off dressed in silver or brass but really I’m just trying to be like everyone else.

Tangled

Hair

Brush

Paint

Canvas

White

Teeth

Fake

Fantasy

Rapunzel

2nd Circle Poem

Tinntinabulation

Bells

Angel

Wings

Theater

Tickets

Parking

Yellow

Submarine

Ocean

Seagull

Bird

Raven

Poe