Every year, we celebrate student poetry throughout the month of April with our annual Poetry Extravaganza. We hope you have enjoyed the poetry our students have shared here! You can find more Oak Meadow student poems on Instagram and Twitter. If you’re a high schooler or a parent of one, you may be interested in our high school poetry course, Word: The Poet’s Voice. Be sure to read Oak Meadow teacher Antony Yaeger’s recent blog post, On Poetry.
Sappy Love Poem
by Cadie Baglin
Oak Meadow, Grade 11
I wish I could erase
All the time a replace
You with someone new
Who cares about me too
Someone I could talk to
Someone I could cry to
Someone who loves me as much as I love you
You’re the only one who has my heart
The only one I see
And when you said you didn’t want me
I saw no fish in my sea
You were the only one I could find
In this deep blue ocean we call time
But my time is running out
And you’re the only one I’ve found
I know we’re young and it’s never gonna last
But you should know I fell really fast
My head was over my heels before I even knew
All I do I trip over you
Over the memories we share
Over how much I care
Over every little stare
But now all I do is compare
I compare myself to her
Wonder what I could have done
Compare my self to her
Wonder why I’m not the one
The one you want to see after ever game
The one you want to see at the end of the day
The one you want to see in the morning and at night
‘Cause you’re the only one I see and it’s giving me a fright
I try and pretend there are no feelings
That I don’t care anymore
But every time I see your name
No matter who it’s attached to
I realize I’m still attached too
“Why I wrote this; Being a dramatic teenager is hard, especially when you know you’re being silly. I wrote this poem to help myself get over a boy. Ahh the teenage life.”
by Claire Kern
Oak Meadow, Grade 9
I twist the cap of my pen
between my teeth, ink
stains on molars, the page
still blank, void of words,
still lacking the power,
still failing to affect change.
Wanting, wanting, wanting to affect change,
Trying to force revolution out of my pen.
Building weapons to battle the power
hungry war-machine, but my ink
spills over to form broken words,
broken images on the page.
Frustrated, I rip the page
into pieces, that’s my change.
I reach for a new sheet, that new words
might follow. Afraid my pen
cannot erase the ink
of others, the permanent stench of the power.
Lead boot prints of power
tear holes in my page,
black and blue ink
bruises beat me, no change
they scream, breaking pens
and banning new voices, new words.
The banished words
hold all the power,
and the gunpowder pen
burns my palm and page,
demanding I write the call for change
demanding I carve new voices in fresh ink.
Progress is marked by ink
lines drawn in blood, battle words
and wounds whose mouths cry change.
Bury the patriarchy, power
drunk bastards with blood pages,
scar their rank flesh with my pen.
Ink tears bleed power,
and I craft words on torn pages,
changing, changing, changing the world
with my pen…