ACTIVITY: Write an ABACADABA

Abracadabra!

Today, we practiced writing a form based on the word 'abracadabra' with the 'Rs' removed. Write a poem that matches the following rhyme scheme:

ABACADABA whiteboard aftermath.

A

B

A

C

A

D

A

B

A

In this nine-line form, each letter corresponds to the rhyming word that should be found at the end of each line of the poem. The picture may give you a better idea about how the poem should look.

You can see some of our results below...

calloused core

please
let me bleed onto the ground
let me rip the shield of my skin & expose with rage all that had aged with the doing of your hands & the loud thuds of closing doors
the silence fills the spaces in which rooms are turned to cages & walls closing in on themselves like the crumbling of torn pages
let me show you the color of my chest
'cause I've been wearing this disorder like a vest
thinking if you'd seen the signs
you'd climb inside & do your best

...serendipity

Numb,

observing the colour schemes of the sunset.

Thinking dumb,

and feeling crimson blood

spilling out of lips so plump.

And wind, with me, begins to waltz;

hoping with movement I’d throw up the apathy I gulped

and the secrets I have kept.

In the end, there is ease on my jitters that thump.  

Pillow Thinking

Eyes are blinking,

cramped up stories, I have forgot.

Pillow thinking,

about the usual and the odd.

Memories are ringing,

ringing constantly,

taking over my body, lingering.

How can I get over a thought?

It is stinging.

Foodoochk

Words words about food

Rumble rumble little stomach

Those hands don't cook

Silence cursed ghoul

Using own kitchen tools

Stealing living gems

Quiet down stool

Sleep in hammock

Without my book - crook

He wonders if there will be any magic twist

He wonders if there will be any magic twist
to this. "What are we supposed to see
when we think about your words?" he hissed.
A princess, a dragon, a queen, a frog,
a wicked witch, a fairy godmother, a feminist!
Now, this really doesn't make any sense!
"Why all this politics in a poem?" He banged his fist
on the table and began to sing in a minor key:
"Don't Worry. Be Happy." Don't be pissed.

A Messy Devolve

This pain… too free

These tears… too real

This numbness quite surreal

My heart… a wreck

My whole life… a mess

My eyes – fulla bliss

LEAVE ME ALONE

These feelings… can’t control

All this warmth

Yet my heart is cold

My skin’s dead ‘n

smiles quite fake

LEAVE ME ALONE

TAKE MY HEART

BREAK MY MIND

I just… want to cry

A Broken Resolve

Help Help! Save my soul!

Stop the flow of tears!

Save me now! Please!

Stop my heart

Break my mind

Guard my will

Build my walls

Dig my hole

Bury my skin

Break my bones

Suck my blood

Burn my breath

Dig me a grave

Let me die tonight

I need an escape

From this hell

ACTIVITY: Write about Falling

This week everyone followed the same theme: falling. Write your interpretation of falling whatever in whatever way you want...

falling upwards

desire boat

haunted with memory

flesh on flesh

lean in close

carrier ships await at bay

taking passengers

they sail away

sea drowns out the noise

only wind carry salty breeze

tempted

falling with ease

a feather afloat

 winter leaves

rowing at the tide

against currents

water with sweat adrift

sirens risen

avert your eyes

hands sway

aboard

limp they lay on wooden boards

sweet sea creatures

of flesh no more

and of fight they carry

abandoned ship to sleep on ferry

compass at true north may lie

memory tricksters tick back time

motion sickness weighs in heavy

shallow breaths squeeze on by

venture further

lighthouse close like cold murder

swing on by in the sea with swift

shore cannot swing them adrift

wailing whales while white waters whisper

candle moonlight clear as crystal

chandeliers in the sky

no survivors at the shelter

welting faces

pieces fall further

afterlife wonderland under ocean grounds

buried souls in open blender

splendor 

 blue with tears

dark like tar

caskets like empty glass jars

sirens pulled us under

wavy stillness with stiff weather

hear no longer 

say no better

feel the agony render it tender

new boats in

waving arms again

sent off sailors on ocean benders 

slow upon sight

sun scorching

moon and light lender 

seize skies while seeking eyes

collapse inside 

fall in love

surrender  

Choices, choices...

Under the horizon the sun hides,

the wind bows in the moon’s presence. 

Muffled screams behind closed doors finally subside,

the clock still chasing the present. 

Standing above, my eyes look down;

and they coruscate like midnight stars,

and I wonder... if I should fall and drown. 

Perhaps I should fall into the arms of death,

that would be utterly bittersweet. 

Or is it love that I’m supposed to fall in its depths,

and that melancholy, it’s supposed to beat? 

I think and wonder,

as the rain abjures the clouds,

and I think and I ponder,

if the end of time will come 

before I put rest to these maddening doubts. 

To My Younger Self

I always thought, 

what you did was irritating.

The things you put yourself through, 

it's aggravating.

Tell me why,

do I have to lie 

to please you.

Don't fall.

Tell me why,

do I have to stop, 

and leave you bleeding.

Don't fall.

Tell me why,

do I have to stay quiet,

and leave you hurting.

Don't fall.

You, you degrade yourself,

you fall.

You kind of hate yourself

for doing so.

Don't fall.

Falling

Falling freely fragments floating in fin air

Falling into disrepair

Falling into stony stare

Falling in indif-f-frent flight

Falling in f-f-fright, all night

Falling as if unfolding 

Scaffolding

To hold the falling

Stalling

Its fall

Landing

Standing 

On a wobbly wall

Falling in 

love

On the wings of a

dove

Falling like the last snowflake 

dancing in the grey winter breeze 

just before spring strikes 

Falling

In life

The King's Own Hole

Ran in unaware

So far into - - - this place

Everything, I have gone and done

Out of place into this hell

All my work astray

So far, down the road

Of the devil’s own

The red-night sun

Look into those eyes

What are they missing?

They ain’t dreaming

Vengeful – very hateful

Rising to the cries and tears

Red eyes all around

Feel the pain in this trip

Down a hole – the King’s Own

Falling off the Bike

I was riding my bicycle in front of our house, which was one of six houses in a court. It was really my dad's bicycle, an old red Schwinn three-speed, but he didn't ride it anymore. My mom had the matching ladies version. I used to ride it to school and to soccer practice after school. Benny on the soccer team called it "hoopty," because it had big rims and was kind of old-fashioned. I had outgrown my old bike, but still needed something to ride. During the day, everyone was at work, so no cars were parked in the street and there was plenty of room to maneuver.

Strangely, none of the other neighborhood kids were around, so I was riding alone, doing circles in the court. For some reason I started shaking my head--I liked the visual effect of shaking my head while whizzing by on my bike. It made the world look all blurry and different. Unfortunately, I did it longer than I should have and lost my balance somehow. The next thing I knew, I was on the street with a severe lump on my head. I had fallen and banged it on the street somehow. I didn't ride my dad's bike for a long time after that.