Taking the Plunge

While these poems both examine literal dives into the water, they can easily be interpreted figuratively as well.  After all, any time we try something new we "take a plunge."  Fervently, we "dive right into" our work.  And through it all, we try to "stay afloat."

The Great Unknown

                                                              

If I remember correctly,

We had been laughing,
Laughing at the great unknown.
It seemed almost crazy,
To jump into the growing darkness
Called the sea.
Yet there we were,
Laughing,
Joking,
And jumping into the salty water.

 

The mist off the great waves stung my eyes

And coated my tongue.
The cool air,
Encased me,
As if it too was afraid
I would fall and hurt myself.
My small body broke the surface of the water
And sent me tumbling downward
Into the darkness.

 

The water attacked me
And refused to let me out of its icy grip.
I fought against the current that had been
Pulling me in all directions.
But I prevailed,
And broke the surface once again.

My chest heaved as I gasped for much needed air.
And the distant cry of a seagull
Penetrated my ears.
But I could stay no longer,
In the icy water.
My fun would soon be over,
For my supper waited.

Anna A. -- Eighth grade

At Peace 

I feel the daze of the sun as it beats down,

Glazing the ocean with a golden coat.

I inhale, taking in the salty air that surrounds me.

My heart pounds and I slam my eyes shut as I dive, leaving the dock behind me.

Cutting through the icy blue floor, sharp and swift,

I feel the waves around me shatter and I emerge into a universe of silence.

Serenity consumes me, those few moments of peace slipping away,

As I emerge to the creamy orange sky, greeting my face with warmth.

As my escape from the real world comes to an end,

A certain feeling of familiar joy finds me,

Inviting me home.

 

Nicole H. -- Eighth Grade

A Twilight Zone Moment

We could not resist a quick shout out:  You are visiting sevenatenine and today is 10/11/12.  And all is well in the universe!

See you on Monday with some new poems! 

What Is a Murmuration?

Have you ever heard of a murmuration before?  If not, you must check out this video before reading the poem below.  This is the video that prompted eighth grader, Lily M., to craft her poem. Simply awe-inspiring!

Murmuration

The birds didn’t fly

They danced

Stirring as if they choreographed it

The sky was a swirling black mass

Flooded with birds

Like a blanket over the island

The birds covered it

Now twirling again

Mocking those who are flightless

 

Lily M.

 

P. S. Thanks to another eighth grader, Matthew R., for his research.  He discovered that often a murmuration is sparked by a nearby predator, like a hawk, and the birds, by sticking together, can chase away or confuse the predator. Only birds who fall out of sync with the rest of the murmuration are in danger.

A Brand New Year

Typing this title, I feel like I can hear Sting (does anybody know who this is?) singing "turn the clock to zero" in the back of my head.  And that is kind of what the start of each school year feels like to all of us: new faces, spaces, great expectations (the kind you get signed on the first day of school, not the Dickensian sort).  Soon, though, we'll all settle in to a routine, a rhythm that life assumes, the turning open of notebooks, the tides of tests.  Some might call it boring, but to those with the right frame of mind and attitude, every waking moment is an adventure, even the predictable ones.

So take a moment to connect to the little things around you with this poem to open our year, written by eighth-grader Maggie M.  After all, what defines an adventure is all in the eye of the beholder.

Little Things

The red scarf

Slid slowly down

The brown banister

Past the puffing fan,

The barking dog,

The open refrigerator door.

 

The ruby scarf

Gazed at the generations

That lived on the walls.

Dipped its frayed edges to the

Coat hanger,

The hats shivering at the wind,

Blasting from the open door.

The scarlet scarf

Jumped up the shoes

That lay scattered

Across the floor.

The scarf rested on the cushioning

Of the upholstered
Green bench,
And waited for the next
Adventure.


Maggie M. -- Grade 8

Farewell to the Seven Viewers

To the devout (seven) subscribers to Sevenatenine:

Our faithful viewers, we fare thee well

As summer draws us near

And to the ocean, we see the swells

And ice cream men we hear

Alas, with summer comes the end

Of another lengthy school year

And with its conclusion, too we see

A scarce few will shed their tears

A fond goodbye we send

As they depart the halls with glee

Thus, Sevenatenine has reached another end

To freedom now we flee

Have a great July, and August, too

Of popsicles, pandemonium, pools

Poetry, prose, something new

Read a book and please stay cool

Capture the Painting

To honor the work of the creative artists of Holicong, Sevenatenine has chosen to publish a drawing as a prompt for writers with the unavoidable writers' block. The following sketch was made by Maddy G., eight grader, entitled The Willow. Use the vivacious colors and delicate shading to be inspired in any form of writing - enjoy! Also, for all of our dedicated viewers, please consider visiting this week's Spring Arts Festival, full of promising artwork just like Maddy's. We hope to see you there!

Literary Inspiration

Sevenatenine has found yet another set of poems inspired by famous works of literature, featuring a wide range of genres and topics. Enjoy the writers' interpretations of the novels in their own forms of poetry!

Oblivious

I’ve fallen in love

I’ve fallen into dreamland

He’s magnetic

He’s dangerous

He makes me forget

I miss my life

It’s tough

It’s compelling

Some things I see clearly

While others a misunderstanding

I’m screaming

Trying to wake up

I’m sorry

This is real

This is making me oblivious

It’s made me withdrawn

It’s made me different

With or without is a problem

Stay; go

Love; hate

Which way?

By Claire A., 7th grade

Based on Dreamland

Imperfect Utopia

High expectations

Always striving to be perfect.

You are a model of perfection,

A shining example.  It’s a disguise.

But no one knows,

You are controlled.

Nothing can stop the exposure.

Trying, trying, trying,

Fighting, fighting, fighting

To stop.

You cannot stop loved ones,

They are forever gone.

There is no disobeying.

A terrible life you are forced

To enjoy.

By Ana P., 7th grade

Based on Candor