2. To My Mother
Mom,
You’ve helped me out a lot over the years. You’re
definitely the strongest woman I know (besides grand
mom, of course!) You’ve been through a lot, yet
you’ve always managed to keep a warm smile on
your face. That was always a remarkable thing to me.
I’ve never really been able to do much for you after
all you’ve done for me so that I why I’m dedicating
this project to you. I know you’ll appreciate it because
of your love for poetry and writing. Thanks so much for
everything; I can’t tell you I love you enough!
Jasmyn ♥
4. She Wins
She’s been hurt, she’s been broken,
She’s been left without a token.
She’s been talked about and boasted,
And yet, she wins.
She’s been beaten, she’s been tired,
She’s been burned walking through the fire.
She’s been on the short end of the receiving wire,
And still, she wins.
She’s been thrown to the ground,
Alone, with no one else around.
Her hearts has had it’s frowns,
Alas, she wins.
She’s been lost, left for dead,
Without a place to rest her head.
The pain binds her to the bed,
Why does she win?
Because she smiles thorough the pain and tears,
She laughs and conquers the unhappiness and fears.
She’s gotten stronger, wiser, and smarter over the years,
And that is why she wins.
5. She Wins (Explanation)
I wrote this poem within a matter of minutes, which is
something I didn’t think I’d be able to do. I was going
through a tough time at the moment and my mom has this
thing where she’ll fuss for like 10 seconds about something
serious and then smile about it. For some reason, that
always fascinated me because I could never understand
how she could be so calm during a serious situation; I
couldn’t comprehend with the fact that humans could do
such a thing and my mom did it so well! That’s one talent
that she taught me, especially when it came to school and
its stressful nature. When I wrote this poem, I thought about
the way my mom would just shake off certain things like it
was nothing at all. To me, that’s like a super power that a
super hero wouldn’t possess. I’m still mastering this power,
but I’m glad my mom taught me how to use it.
6. Be True
Learn the lessons! Learn the
lessons!
My heart tells me with great
expression,
To study the lessons of each
passing life session,
And gain experience as I continue
my progression.
Learn the lessons!
Be true! Be true!
My heart screams to me “be true!”
“Never back down and always
make due!”
“Your life was meant for you; live it
how you choose!”
Be true!
Break free! Break free!
That’s what my heart is telling
me;
To unleash the happiness inside
of me,
And rejoice every blessing
blessed upon me.
Break free!
Be wise! Be wise!
My heart tells me to open my
eyes;
To look closely and realize,
That those by my side aren’t
really on my side.
Be wise!
7. Be True (Explanation)
“Be True” was another poem that took just minutes to
write. My reason for writing this poem was based on
how my mom taught me how to stand up to people
without really stepping up to them. As certain people
say “words don’t hurt”, I think that’s one of the biggest
lies ever told! Words do hurt; say the wrong ones and
you could end up killing yourself over them. The way
to get over words is to ignore them! It’s a hard thing to
do but if you just ignore the hurtful words and surround
yourself with positive energy, I guarantee you’ll feel
better about yourself. If you be true to yourself and
don’t worry about yourself, you’ll be completely fine.
8. Snow Fairy
In the later days of December, I gaze upon my window.
I set my eyes upon the still sights before me;
Everything is at a steady sleeping setting.
And so it begins, the snow fairy has come!
She begins her elegant dance;
Her delicate foot touching every snow filled cloud.
The flakes begin to descend towards the earth
And covering everything with its white embrace.
It’s funny how the coldest dance,
Can warm my soul with every passing second.
Winter may not be my favorite,
But this dance always makes the coldness worthwhile.
Dance on, snow fairy, dance on.
9. Snow Fairy (Explanation)
“Snow Fairy” took a bit longer than the other poems
but all the same, it happened pretty quickly. I wrote
this poem from the thought of my mother’s love for
cold weather. I never understood why until she took
me “because there’s no one outside to come and
bother you!” She had a very interesting point, even I
don’t like being bothered by certain people all the
time. I also realize that winter is a beautiful thing like all
the other seasons, but not many people see it that
way. Many people see winter as this scary, cold and
evil monster that likes to hang around for a few
months. To me, it’s a wonderful season that brings
everyone and everything together.
10. Damaged Soul
The aspect of my soul seems to wither away, day by day.
How will I ever break away from this type of pain?
What is there left to gain?
This heart is on a never-ending spinning wheel.
Will I ever get to feel the real aspect of true happiness?
This soul of mine wants to feel bliss!
How can I accomplish something like this?
Can a soul be so broken to the point where hope is just a word with no sincere
feeling?
Can a soul have a meaningless meaning?
I have to pick up the pieces to this impossible puzzle and mend it at best.
I must finish before I take my never-ending rest.
11. Damaged Soul
(Explanation)
I think this may be one of my more deeper poems.
When I was writing “Damaged Soul”, I thought about
all the tough times me and my mother went through.
She had more than I did but who had the most tough
times doesn’t matter to me; we’ve all been through
them no matter how big or small they may be. Our
tough time really hit home when my grand mother
died back in 2011. I’ve never seen my mother so
broken in my life, and I felt every pain that she did. We
still suffer with this loss and yet we manage to keep
smiles on our faces because that’s all we can do is
move on; that’s what grand mom would want
anyways.
13. Innervision
I looked upon the waters searching for the coolness within
Not realizing that the love I was holding so close
To me, died right from under me. I only felt it, not really
Knowing or understanding; but just thinking that all along
It was my girlish mind playing with my subconscious again.
But when the smoke cleared, and the waves rolled back
out to
The sea; I realized that I was again-lost, alone, and
Empty again – Love had died.
Now I am craving for a burning desire that I can only see,
And only image-but will never be felt.
15. The Raven by
Edgar Allen Poe
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
'Sir,' said I, 'or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came
rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber
door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you'- here I opened wide the
door;-
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there
wondering,
fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to
dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no
token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word,
'Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word,
'Lenore!'-
Merely this, and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me
burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than
before.
'Surely,' said I, 'surely that is something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore-
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;-
'Tis the wind and nothing more.'
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and
weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a
tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber
door.
''Tis some visitor,' I muttered, 'tapping at my chamber door-
Only this, and nothing more.'
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon
the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;- vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow- sorrow for the lost
Lenore-
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name
Lenore-
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood
repeating,
''Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door-
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;-
This it is, and nothing more.'
16. The Raven by
Edgar Allen Poe
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke
only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did
outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he
fluttered-
Till I scarcely more than muttered, 'other friends have
flown
before-
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have
flown before.'
Then the bird said, 'Nevermore.'
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
'Doubtless,' said I, 'what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful
Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one
burden bore-
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never- nevermore'.'
But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and
bust and
door;
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of
yore-
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous
bird of yore
Meant in croaking 'Nevermore.'
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and
flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or
stayed
he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber
door-
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
'Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, 'art sure
no
craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly
shore-
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the Raven, 'Nevermore.'
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so
plainly,
Though its answer little meaning- little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door-
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber
door,
With such name as 'Nevermore.'
17. The Raven by
Edgar Allen Poe
'Prophet!' said I, 'thing of evil- prophet still, if bird or
devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us- by that God we both
adore-
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name
Lenore-
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name
Lenore.'
Quoth the Raven, 'Nevermore.'
'Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend,' I shrieked,
upstarting-
'Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian
shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath
spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off
my
door!'
Quoth the Raven, 'Nevermore.'
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is
dreaming,
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the
floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted- nevermore!
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's
core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated
o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating
o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an
unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted
floor.
'Wretch,' I cried, 'thy God hath lent thee- by these angels
he
hath sent thee
Respite- respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of
Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost
Lenore!'
Quoth the Raven, 'Nevermore.'
'Prophet!' said I, 'thing of evil!- prophet still, if bird or
devil!-
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee
here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted-
On this home by horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore-
Is there- is there balm in Gilead?- tell me- tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the Raven, 'Nevermore.'
18. As One Who Having Wandered All
Night by Robert Louis Stevenson
AS one who having wandered all night long
In a perplexed forest, comes at length
In the first hours, about the matin song,
And when the sun uprises in his strength,
To the fringed margin of the wood, and sees,
Gazing afar before him, many a mile
Of falling country, many fields and trees,
And cities and bright streams and far-off Ocean's smile:
I, O Melampus, halting, stand at gaze:
I, liberated, look abroad on life,
Love, and distress, and dusty travelling ways,
The steersman's helm, the surgeon's helpful knife,
On the lone ploughman's earth-upturning share,
The revelry of cities and the sound
Of seas, and mountain-tops aloof in air,
And of the circling earth the unsupported round:
I, looking, wonder: I, intent, adore;
And, O Melampus, reaching forth my hands
In adoration, cry aloud and soar
In spirit, high above the supine lands
And the low caves of mortal things, and flee
To the last fields of the universe untrod,
Where is no man, nor any earth, nor sea,
And the contented soul is all alone with God.
19. Democracy by
Langston Hughes
Democracy will not come
Today, this year
Nor ever
Through compromise and fear.
I have as much right
As the other fellow has
To stand
On my two feet
And own the land.
I tire so of hearing people say,
Let things take their course.
Tomorrow is another day.
I do not need my freedom when I'm dead.
I cannot live on tomorrow's bread.
Freedom
Is a strong seed
Planted
In a great need.
I live here, too.
I want freedom
Just as you.
20. A Hymn to Humanity by
Phyllis Wheatley
IV.
Quick as the word, with swift career
He wings his course from star to star,
And leaves the bright abode.
The Virtue did his charms impart;
Their G-----! then thy raptur'd heart
Perceiv'd the rushing God:
V.
For when thy pitying eye did see
The languid muse in low degree,
Then, then at thy desire
Descended the celestial nine;
O'er me methought they deign'd to shine,
And deign'd to string my lyre.
VI.
Can Afric's muse forgetful prove?
Or can such friendship fail to move
A tender human heart?
Immortal Friendship laurel-crown'd
The smiling Graces all surround
With ev'ry heav'nly Art.
I.
Lo! for this dark terrestrial ball
Forsakes his azure-paved hall
A prince of heav'nly birth!
Divine Humanity behold,
What wonders rise, what charms unfold
At his descent to earth!
II.
The bosoms of the great and good
With wonder and delight he view'd,
And fix'd his empire there:
Him, close compressing to his breast,
The sire of gods and men address'd,
"My son, my heav'nly fair!
III.
"Descend to earth, there place thy throne;
"To succour man's afflicted son
"Each human heart inspire:
"To act in bounties unconfin'd
"Enlarge the close contracted mind,
"And fill it with thy fire."
21. My Soul is Dark by Lord
Byron
My soul is dark - Oh! quickly string
The harp I yet can brook to hear;
And let thy gentle fingers fling
Its melting murmurs o'er mine ear.
If in this heart a hope be dear,
That sound shall charm it forth again:
If in these eyes there lurk a tear,
'Twill flow, and cease to burn my brain.
But bid the strain be wild and deep,
Nor let thy notes of joy be first:
I tell thee, minstrel, I must weep,
Or else this heavy heart will burst;
For it hath been by sorrow nursed,
And ached in sleepless silence, long;
And now 'tis doomed to know the worst,
And break at once - or yield to song.
22. Final Note
Mom,
I picked these particular poems because they’re all
from some of your favorite poets as well as mine. I
figured that some of them would reflect on you as a
poet and as a person. I hope you appreciated this
project as much as I did. Your love for poetry and
writing is what partially inspired me to do this.
Thank you,
Jasmyn ♥
24. Bibliography
• Morrison, Valerie. “Innervision.” East of the Sunrise: The National
Library of Poetry. The National Library of Poetry. Owings Mills. 1995.
Print.
• Poe, Edgar Allen. “The Raven.” Poets.org. Academy of American
Poets, 1997. Web. <
http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15638>
• Stevenson, Robert Louis. “As One Who Having Wandered All Night.”
Poetry Lovers Page. Poetryloverspage.com, 1995. Web.
<http://www.poetryloverspage.com/poets/stevenson/as_one_who_h
aving_wandered.html>
• Hughes, Langston. “Democracy.” American Poems. Gunnar
Bengtsson, 2000. Web. 20 Feb. 2003. <
http://www.americanpoems.com/poets/Langston-Hughes/3771>
• Wheatley, Phyllis. “An Hymn to Humanity.” Bartleby.com.
Bartleby.com, 1993. Web. < http://www.bartleby.com/150/32.html>
• Byron, Lord. “My Soul is Dark.” Best Poems.net. Best Poems, 2008.
Web. <http://www.best-poems.net/lord_byron/poem-12372.html>
