Logan Poets

Untitled

loganpoets — Thu, 08 May 2008 15:18:40 +0000

I run outside into
the pouring rain
water droplets cradling
me in their wet arms.

My whole body shaking,
trembling, in the heart
crushing sadness.

Icy cold water feels good
against my red, puffy,
tear-stained cheeks.

Every droplet pounds
on my head, each time
the words play, over, over,
and over again in my head
he’s gone
he’s gone
he’s gone

By Kaylee

Six Sibs

loganpoets — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 22:11:50 +0000

Shaquanah
Is the oldest
She has that advantage.
Freddie
Is my evil twin
I’m nine minutes older
That is my advantage.
Albie
Is the “angel”
She is “never” wrong.
Caroline
Is Miss Sensitive
She has to be perfect.
Ivan
Is the monkey
Jumping of the walls.
Blair-Blair
Is Mr. Flirty Pants
He blows kisses to every girl.
Those are my Six Sibs
And I know I need them all.

By Zoe

School

loganpoets — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 22:09:15 +0000

School is like jail,
Imprisoned all day,
We work and work and work,
With no time to play.

School is like jail,
With horrible food,
With slop for lunch,
Just get me out dude!

School is like jail,
We’re so happy to go,
We can finally play,
With no teachers to say no.

By Matt

One Unhappy 5-Year-Old

loganpoets — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 22:05:26 +0000

2 beds about 6 feet apart.
2 white bed sheets with red rosebushes on them.
1 small desk in between the 2 beds with the red rosebush sheets.
1 small lamp on the small desk that is in between the 2 beds with the rosebush bed sheets
2 kids jumping from rosebush sheeted bed to rosebush sheeted bed.
1 white windowsill and white blinds next to one of the rosebush sheeted beds.
One bad jump onto the white windowsill.
One black eye.
One call for mom.
One, very unhappy 5 year old.

By Dylan

Jarred

loganpoets — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 22:03:15 +0000

Jarred is my name
Not O’Ryan
Nor Quade
Austin would have been awesome
But Jarred is still my name
Zane would have been a real pain
I dislike the name Zane
At least for a first name
And Jarred is still my name
I like most of these names
Yet Jarred is still my name.

By Jarred

Old Cowboy

loganpoets — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 22:01:31 +0000

I’m an old old cowboy
A very old cowboy!
My skin is chafing
My ten-gallon hat is shrinking
I’m an old old cowboy
An old lonely cowboy!
My days on the ranch are dead
My horse is slowly slowing
My liver spots are growing
My spurs are dull like pencils
I can’t use my utensils
My lasso is a string
My gun has lost its ping
I’m an old old cowboy
An old lonely cowboy
My golden days have been trashed
Now I eat potatoes mashed
I’m an old old cowboy
I’m an old, lonely cowboy.

By Jarred

Skunk

loganpoets — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 21:53:21 +0000

Black with
White stripe,
Smelly creature
Creeps along,
Warns
Them all
To stay
Away.

By Taylor

Monster

loganpoets — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 21:50:19 +0000

I wake up
Gaze into the mirror
I see
A big brown hairy monster
Sitting on my head.
Still staring at the monster
I reach for my blue hair brush.
It only takes
30 seconds to kill
The big
Brown monster
On my
Head.

By Amber

Grass

loganpoets — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 21:48:06 +0000

You can pick away
at a patch of grass
until the ground
is cold and
bare
but it will
eventually
grow back
always.

By Amber

Double Play

loganpoets — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 21:44:43 +0000

Man on first,
One out.
The batter steps up to the plate.
I look over to the shortstop and he knows what to do.
The pitcher releases the ball,
The batter takes a swing.
The ball heads straight to me.
I scoop it up and throw it to second.
He gets the ball quickly,
Then beams it to first.
Double Play.

By Nick M.