MPitS - Mendocino High School

MPitS

Mendocino High School

2004/2005

Modern Chemistry

Sitting inside the window.
She looks outside as the wind blows.
Rain hammering against her face,
drenching her hair and her smile.
"There's not enough pills to sleep"
The song from the cd player
pleads to her.
"The lights are blinking,
but I still can't see anything."
The warm air from outside brushes
against her cold face
lifting the dead rays of the sun
scattered across the floor.
Scissors grasped in her hands,
her hair on the floor.
What she saw in the mirror
was something she couldn't look
at anymore.
The dark circles around her eyes
resembled the black, cracked, paved
sidewalk. They would never leave,
They would just get worse until
somebody... someone would come
to fix it. Make everything allright.
She licks her lips and tastes her tears,
thinking it's the rain.
I'm not okay, I promise.

Katie Owens
10 th Grade, Mendocino High School
Scott Meltsner, Poet Teacher

Sometimes

Sometimes I am the sun glinting off a rusty tractor.
Sometimes I am the brand new shirt that doesn't fit.
Sometimes I am the rain that pounds at the old redwood
But I am never the knife that cuts the dinner bread.
Sometimes I am the lone daisy sitting high atop the mountain
Sometimes I am the big red balloon that just missed the child's fingers
Sometimes I am the blanket that comforts the sleeping woman
But I am never the knife that cuts the dinner bread.
Never always only sometimes is what I am.
But I am never the knife that cuts the dinner bread.

Samantha Kearney
Mendocino High School
Scott Meltsner, Poet Teacher

Appreciate Little, Appreciate Lots

The sweetness of honey is appreciated with the sweetness within.
The softness of skin is appreciated with the softness within
The love for everything is appreciated with the love within.
When you think your life is hell
and he admits that he loves you
hell turns into heaven on earth
When your mom quits buying liters of vodka
hell turns into heaven on earth
knowing at the end you will give birth
We all want people to love us,
when really we should determinedly love others
dog dies, break down and shutter
appreciate she was in your life
rather than stabbing yourself with a knife
Our heart is where appreciation lies
appreciate the loved and appreciate the wise
when it's gone, don't let it slap you in the face
even though all you're left with is stupid memories
but just know, you would die a thousand deaths
rather than not appreciate.

Rachel Rohe
9 th Grade, Mendocino High School
Scott Meltsner, Poet Teacher

Joy

It begins with a twist in your gut
The corners of your mouth walk up your face
a lemon Snapple tang fills your mouth
and a laugh bubbles out of a place deep inside.
The clock ticks
ticks
ticking with the time you have left
an innocent time bomb.
Music only you can hear
blasting in your ear.
Anticipation makes you fear
only the the end of this luminous feeling.
Hot and dry as a hard edged white light
as hardy as a titanium blade
as fragile as a bubble containing
all you are and
all
you ever will
be.

Hannah Fanto
9 th Grade, Mendocino High School
Scott Meltsner, Poet Teacher

I have red hair
long, curly, shiny hair
In a way, I am that hair.
I have many colors to my personality
Each curl is like my opinions
The little frizzes, yes those frustrating frizzes,
are my imperfections.
the smell of my hair is like shampoo and flowers,
much like the artificial aspects of my image.
The perfect student, with a successful life ahead of them
really I don't know what I'll do or where I'll end up.
I can put my hair in all different ways
like the many moods of my being.

Diva Gallo
10 th Grade, Mendocino High School
Scott Meltsner, Poet Teacher

I am, perhaps, the two most revealing words
in the English language.
I am not about to describe myself
because in doing so, I would be stirring
up details as fast as tornadoes;
because I am a person with a purpose.
However, someone who has no idea of what it is.
A person destined for something great,
but can't get past the first stage.
I am contradicting myself,
saying something and doing something else.
a whirlwind of thoughts,
engulfing myself in an endless storm.
I am lost, and the confusion is not helping,
Hard to write even a word.
I am proud of how far I've come.
I am a teenage boy, and doing this poem alone.
I have conquered the first stage
and I can resume moving on in life.

Taylor Taff
10 th Grade, Mendocino High School
Scott Meltsner, Poet Teacher

He is like the song that you can't get out of your head,
like the storms that make your heart beat faster,
like the jacket that keeps you warm,
He is what you look forward to in your day,
the color that fills your face,
the tears that trickle at an unsteady pace.
He's watching as the water leaks out
of the eyes he looked into each day,
wondering why he chose the other way,
and hoping that someday,
the black in white will stay away,
and color will always stay,
left from the light of the sun,
and not from him,
the one.

Taylor Dunbar
9 th Grade, Mendocino High School
Scott Meltsner, Poet Teacher

Trapped Maniac

His mind is spinning like a clock in overdrive
and the maniac is dancing between the trees
light is exploding like squashed fireflies
and he is scratching like he has fleas
He is trying to run, but the trees have him trapped
and he'll do anything to escape.
Tired from dancing he wants to take a nap
and he can't fly cause they took his cape
He thinks its over he thinks he's a slave
He thinks he will be trapped for ever
He has to dance like a big old rave
but now he just says "Whatever".

Jordan Gallagher
10 th Grade, Mendocino High School
Scott Meltsner, Poet Teacher

Sweater

Sorry. My fault. I can't take it back,
if I could, I would. It hurts. It stabs.
a dark box, no windows
walk through a crowd,
see the people, the colors
no touching, no interaction
bright colors, blinded by
sub-conscience eaten at by
actions done when they
should not have been
it eats stomachs, rips, sighs
it tears sweaters,
tears smiles
the sun blares but does not warm
tears form but do not fall
sick from lack of equilibrium
gathering lost courage to calm the seas
spoken words, fearful, necessary
frowns of fear, innocence once more
Sorry. My fault. I can't take it back.
if I could, I would. It hurts. It stabs.

Rosie Muto
10 th Grade, Mendocino High School
Scott Meltsner, Poet Teacher

A dirty dog of gold
Greeting one
At entrance of
A pilgrim's house, upon prairie
A smooth adamant feel
Man of rivered wrinkles
lay back and puff a pipe
while work of chopped wood lay ready
The feel to grow and gain
The lash of dirt and wind
A fear to lose that to be gained
Now calloused hands lay arrest
the taste of dust sink in
the creviced wood aligned
the pleasant talk begin
call of chore ring low
Man of rivers gives that of desire.

Tyler Beale
10 th Grade, Mendocino High School
Scott Meltsner, Poet Teacher

Faucet is Blacker Than Red

Driplop!
it may be a steady stream
it may be a tsunami in the misty pipes
bloody oil
Driplop!
Hell over there
yet heaven is nearer
but does it exist?
Driploosh!
Mr. Bojangles says it's A-O.K.
He is mentally oblivious to the incident
what a wannabe drag queen
It is no longer dripping
The faucet is fully on
The water, redder than black
Ignore it
Instead, watch Scott Peterson get locked up!
Is this human? or humane?
Yes.
Dammit!
I left the pie in the oven
It matters no more, what does?
my remotely mangled body is now the faucet.
Good pie, though.

Zac Burtis
10 th Grade, Mendocino High School
Scott Meltsner, Poet Teacher

MPitS Home About Links Poet Teachers Schools Site Map

Website designed by Bob Evans & Blake More. If you have comments about this Web Site please email: blake@snakelyone.com