Tuesday, March 21, 2023

A Gallery Where Comments Are Welcome

You may notice that this year on Sevenatenine, you are reading more than one poem by the same poet, and becoming familiar with the voice each individual poet brings to their body of work.  

What are you noticing? Is there a certain poet whose work you would like to praise?  Leave us a comment and share your thinking! 


Artwork by Sjostjedt Z., Grade 9


The Colder Side of the Room

 

I step through the door

and greet a familiar issue.

I sit down, feeling rigid

it’s colder on this side of the room.

 

A drab and relentless breeze bombards my face

my shoulders shift in their icy prison

I start to lean away.

Away and away, to the inviting warmth that’s so close

it’s so close now, just like how this class is close to finished…

but I take a look back into their eyes and I find my body has been turned to stone

I worry that if I return to the warmth

the ice I my veins will melt and all the words will come seeping out

I really don’t want that

I can’t just leave them alone here…

 

So I sigh with one last longing glance at the heat so irrefutably close,

my cracked and frostbitten lips curve into a smile.

 

I slide back

to the colder side of the room.

 

by Emma S., Grade 7

 

Artwork by Ibragamov, D., Grade 8

Little Love Stories I Keep In My Journal To Daydream About On Later Occasions

 

I wrote about his smile.

This one I want to see in my dreams.

And now I’m afraid of the words that I want to say.

 

Keep falling deeper into the dimples—

I love dimples.

A tacenda between me and me.

 

My fairy of perfume.

Spill the scent and trap me in a misty haze.

Let me fall into the complex profile, eager to learn more.

 

I can draw the limped crescents of his eyes when he smiles.

Wrinkle for wrinkle.

Cheeks rosy and puffed.

 

I should respect myself as much as I respect him.

I love him as much as I should love myself.

But for now, I’m perfectly not so perfect at daydreaming about what we could be.

 

More so what I could be.

Because our possible love story I keep writing about is just me,

Falling in love with myself through someone else.

 

Which is why I continue to write these two little love stories for myself.

Because I deserve to be loved just as much as every other person in the world.

Daydream or not.

 

by Jaime P., Grade 9

 

Artwork by Aubrey S., Grade 9



Not Yesterday, Nor Tomorrow

 

Today.

Today, it’s awfully sunny.

Yesterday wasn’t

and nobody can say what tomorrow will be.

      Today, it’s not too hot, or too cold

                 It’s just today.

                      Because it’s just today.

                         Not yesterday, nor tomorrow

                                                 It’s just today.

Sometimes,

I hate today.

Sometimes,

I love today.

Sometimes,

it feels like yesterday.

Sometimes,

tomorrow will feel like today.

Sometimes,

the sun is too bright.

       And I just want to choke it with my blanket, hiding myself.

                                                          I think I hide from today often.

                                                              Today is terribly bright.

                                                   Today might rain.

                                    But it doesn’t matter, it’s just today.

                       Not yesterday, nor tomorrow.

                             Just today.

Just Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday.

            Just today.

                 Just one day…

                           One day today will end for me.

                                  But for now, it’s just today.

Just today.

 

by Ellana K., Grade 7


Artwork by Hannah S., Grade 9

 


Bored thoughts of an unimaginable being

 

Get lost in the lines

Of those corduroy pants

And follow the flare

Of that green plaid sweater

Swallow the squeak

Of the brown leather shoes

 

And cry at the body attached

 

by Nia H., Grade 9

 

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