In Search of a Song Volume 468

8/3/2019 In Search of a Song Volume 468

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Jacqueline'sBook ofPoetry

Straight from theHeart


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AWATERWAYSPROJECT

PUBLICATIONBarbara Fisher &Richard Spiegelco-directors

Thomas PerryAssistant

Margaret A. FrisciaTeacher

Margaret Bing-WadePrincipalAu.Yiliary Services

Stephen E. PhillipsSuperintendent

Alternative HS& Programs

with funding support fromthe New York State Council on the ArtsI996 Ten Penny Players Inc.


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Times Are TurningPart ITimes are turning, winds of change,loads of promises and broken dreams.Truth of a poet, told by a kid,angry, and passion so cruel,yet so divine.Rhythm and rhymes, so completein beat, words of a soldier, so harshyet so sweet.Love is lost, yet it's found again;bodies tossed inside of a pen. Prisonbars are becoming my friends.Killings and dangers, murders of lust, angerand betrayal all describes us.This is the world as I can see, but if youasked me this is how it should be.


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Part IILove and honesty,devotion and trust, sweet soundingwords all surrounding us.True love meeting at a secretrendezvous, fresh petals smelling inthe month of June.Secret admirers, little kids trying toshow how rich they should live.Places of love and places of passion,place of destiny and pure satisfaction;if you ask me this is how the worldshould be.


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AloneI'm aloneand alone I shall be,for Iive in a world that doesn't understandme ...my playful sense of humor,my carefree charm,my childish laugh,and grown-up view.Can anyone hold methe way Iwant to be held?Touch me the way Iwant to be felt?No, you can't!'Cause no one understands me.Age is just a number,not wisdom.


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Wisdom comes from the mind.I have my own mindand thoughts, for that I am wise.People look at me as a young black girl.Not as a strong, willing, trying to breakout of the shell woman;coming to life to enter this world of dangerhead on.I'm willing to be challengedby any man that comes in myway,willing to fight against the test of timeto become all that I can be.The woman I should be.The woman I can be.The woman I am now and forever.


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LostMany days I walk in the sandwith swollen feetand dried up hands.Against the rainand the stormsI somehow manage to keep going on.Nights I pray to see your eyeslook at me as you hypnotize.Many nights I stay awake wishing forthis one fine day.Here I am all alonestanding here in this storm,

. wondering what will become of my loveif they don't warn him before he's gone.


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Now I know.Now you're gone.It's much too late to tell you my love.You're buried here behind this gate.Here I amabove your grave, saying I loveyou even though it's much too late.


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The 'Ihird Season (Fall)\Vhispering winds rolling my nameall around me.The laughing rain, filled wi th pain,crying out to me, "You'll never be thesame for we know your name and everyone'stalking about you."Silly as it seems,snow falling on mesuddenly made me scream.For the snow was also quietly talkingabout me.As I tossed around in a daze fullof amazing thoughts I realized Idreamed the whole thing up.If you think about it, Nature, it can be avery scary thing.


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Love Is LostMy heart is racing with emotionthinking of you, dreaming of the dayyou'll think of me too.My heart is breaking not having younear but just dreams and thoughtsrunning through my head.I'm in love and in love to staywith soft memories of you dancingthrough my head.I wish you could know what I'mfeeling, but sometimes we have to hideit inside.My head is confused.My heart is strongand emotions seem to linger on.


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I'm in love with a man who maynot love me.Is this true? This how it has to be?Trapped in a thought that could be true,laying awake in my youth.Not yet sure of how this couldbe, but I'm in love with a man whodoesn't love me.


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You Are MineYou are mine.I am yours)for this our love belongs.You love me.I love you,for this our love was meant to be.In your arms I'm safe and sound.When I'm not, I'm lonely like a clown.Trying to cover up my feelings inside, butthey come out with every moment that goes by.I long for you when you're not here.I cry a thousand tears.When you're with me I'm happy as can be,only to know the one I love dearis right next to me near.


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BeautyBeauty, that's all I see when Ilook at her standing there.It's no wonder that people comefrom all over just to adore her.Strong and powerful eyes, she makespeople stop and gaze with amusement,excitement and she always symbolizesfreedom and strength for all who comewith their hearts knowing that she is thestatue of liberty and nothing will haltthe love she brings.She is magnificent, spectacular; the mostoutrageous gift from France the U.S. has everreceived. She is the mother and protectorof America.Statue of Liberty is only one of the many


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symbols that comes across themind when we think of the USA:the bald eagle,blue, white and red flag,George Washington and Washington DCare all things of the United States. Allfor our country; all for mother liberty.

Beauty, that's what she is. That's whatI think of when I thinkof the statue of Liberty.This is what I think ofwhen I think of America.


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Poet's ThemeEveryone is a poetin their own heart.We all know howto put lines together for love;and we know howto tear them apart.We can make the roughest soundsbe heard so gentle and sweet,turn the sweetest wordsinto something you never want to hear.We can place you on an islandand leave you there;or change the setting and put yousomewhere colder if we dare.A poet's imagination is her strongest point.She can always use it to her advantageand make you see and hear thingsyou usuallywouldn't.


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- . . .

Apoet can put your mind at restor make it ill at ease;turn nothing into somethingwith just the touch of a pen.When you think about poetryit's not just rhymes, wordson top of words, so divine.It's hours, sometimes daysof pure stress, to make little wordsbecome so beautiful to turn out like this.A poet's life is a hard one,we must work harder thansome people and less than a few.Not physical labor, or a million dollarscheme, but thinking upon thinkingto make each line be so clear.Poetry is an artmany people don't fancy


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while we poets think it's so dandy.Using words to describe everythingand anything like artists doin their sketch book.It's something I love and cherishso dear and wish everyone around mecould grab a glass and cheer.Poetry is my talent and a talent indeed;I have mastered this artas the rich master the art of greed.Sowith a kiss upon your cheek,I lay down my penand search my mind next timeto begin again.


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In Search of a Song .Volume 468" ' ' ' . . . . . . . ~

a waterways project publication

In Search of a Song Volume 468

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