1. "Poetry is above all concentration of the power of language, which is the power of our ultimate relationship to everything in the universe"

- Adrienne Rich

For this unit, I was assigned to write several poems covering several styles of poetry. I thought it would be easy, but as soon as I began to write, my mind went blank. Every single time. My style of creative writing is simplistic, which is shown in these poems below. They're my thoughts and how I feel about things, so if you want to know how my brain works, read my poems.


Foggy windows correspond with foggy minds,
with a sweet medicine cocktail to drown it all out.


Worried faces surround my bed,
acid eating away whatever life I had left.


Chang the IV,
check blood pressure,

3. Riff poem


Everything is music.

Your heart plays a beat that only you know.
Muffled by everyday noise,
nobody appreciates the slight thump thump that never stops.

Your breathing is a steady pattern,
like the ocean hitting the shore.
Washing over your body,
emptying your mind.

4. ~Ode to Milo~

The phrase 'curiosity killed the cat' never seemed so fitting.
That's the only way to describe Milo,
his free spirit running around the house,
poking at and knocking everything over.
Destructive as a tornado,
yet gentle as a lamb.

His body heat warms you,
like a blanket on a cold winter night.
Tiny padded feet sprint around the house,
letting you know that you aren't alone.

5. Found Poem

~What are you thinking about? ~

I'm a celebrity in my own mind.
Why does this party start at 7, is it a family gathering?
Is that him?

Because if I was, you wouldn't love me.
I left my brain in El Segundo.
I love you to the moon and back.
Life is awesome, isn't it?
You love em until they do you wrong.
I respect your swag.
I'm a really weird awkward person, it's so rad.
You're crazy, I love it.


~I was raised by ~

I was raised by empty wine bottles
and the smell of Marlboro Reds.
Slurred words and shattered plates.
The roles were reversed for this one.
Tucking my mom into bed every night,
and that's if she could even walk,
was normal to me.
Dad was never home,
and I still don't know why.

I remember the night Brice killed himself.
Michelle and I sat on my bed and cried.
Mom was too drunk to do anything,
other than cry and break everything in site out of anger.

I remember the night Emily's dad died.
It was the same thing again,
dad not home,
Michelle crying,
mom too drunk,
me taking care of everyone.
I was only 9.

I remember the time I dropped the milk in the kitchen.
I remember the bruises.
I remember my mom screaming and crying for hours.
Crying over spilled milk, ironic right?


~ Why ~

You walked me to the bus stop and kissed me goodbye as if I'd never see you again.
Sitting on the bus with a dumbass smile on my face,
I thought this feeling would never end.
The moon was out but there was no stars in sight,
only lights from the cars on the expressway.

Being alone with my thoughts always winds up bad,
so why did I think this time would be different?
One tiny thought is all it takes to spark the fire that engulfs my brain,
driving me crazy until I fall asleep.

Go home,
open the front door,
take off shoes,
walk up 12 off white steps,
go into first room on the left,
leave lights off,
lay in bed,
lay in bed,
lay in bed.

"What are you doing amy? It's only 7:30."
I wish I knew the answer to that.
After pausing for a moment or so,
my response was to turn over in bed,
face the wall,
and cover my head with the pillow until she leaves.

I notice your scent lingers on my hoodie,
as it always does,
so I cuddle with it until I drift into sleep.

Creative Piece

Screen Shot 2013-03-22 at 2.26.45 AM.png

For my creative piece I chose a picture of me and my boyfriend from before we started going out. The two lines shown above (from 'Why') were written about him, so I chose to display them nicely.