Peace Center Poetry Slam!
Hosted by Kimberly Simms.
Poems by the following students:
First Place Winner
By: Alicia Elias
D. W. Daniel High School
"Sexy's Just a State of Mind"
Since when do speaking the words
mean that you're really free?
And wearing the clothes
doesn't mean anything.
Like a string of pearls and
someone else's shoes,
you dress up the look
they've been dying to lose,
and now you're back in the fishbowl,
crying for just one more shot.
How many perfectly good smiles will you waste
before you realize what you've got?
Just because you weren't holding the glass
doesn't mean it's not your fault you drank.
When you're facedown in the punchbowl,
just remember who to thank
for all the fingernails you've lost
from scratching at the stitches,
for all the blue days it has cost
you digging in the ditches.
I didn't know your tiny neck
could hold up a head like yours...
I'm not waiting for an apology,
just an epiphany.
Weave me the sexiest negligee
with your net of clever clichés.
I promise I'll wear it
just for you
if you throw in a
reputation or two?
Back to All Youth Poetry
Junkfood King
By: Jeremy Jones
Easley High School
Junkfood Jim is the Elvis of the fast food world,
The real “King” of doughnuts, big Macs, and fries that curl.
His slouching posture is uncivilized,
And he could really use some exercise.
When he runs out of clean bowls,
He grabs a bag of chips and rocks with his rolls.
At a restaurant’s buffet, he flashes his cash;
Then he fills up his gut with corned beef hash.
People say, “He ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog.”
But he is shaped more like a bullfrog.
After eating fried bologna sandwiches all night long,
The King leaves us with yet another song,
That says, “I’m not fat baby,
I’m just big boned.”
He hates all vegetables and fruit;
Back away from the Fritos or he’ll shoot.
After the Fritos, he’s very thirsty,
And by now his clothes are begging for mercy.
He sings the Refrigerator Rock, but not the blues;
He’s so fat, he can’t even wear his blue suede shoes.
When it comes to food, he’s just go that touch,
And leaves each restaurant with,
“Thank you! Thank you very much!”
Sexy's Just a State of Mind
(Untitled)
By: Carrie Tian
Riverside Middle School
I look around the tiny bookshop,
Smelling faintly of coffee and cherry cough drops.
At the hundreds of stories still untold,
Waiting to whisper their tales to readers bold,
Waiting to carry readers to a world contrasting with our own,
Waiting to let readers meet people they have never known.
Letting them experience things joyful, things sorrowful,
and things just plain vile,
Letting them live out their dreams to the fullest extent,
if only for a short while.
The only obstacles to a world of fiction, fantasy, and fables,
Are the sky-high price labels.
Staring innocently at parents’ credit cards,
While books scream, “buy me, buy me!” making parents think hard,
About whether to let their kids indulge in books they’ve been craving
Or to teach them the hard way about the value of saving.
But eventually, parents will reach for their wallets, while kids exclaim,
“Thanks! You rock!”
Still, when cashiers ring up the purchase, the price’s always quite
a shock.
This is a scene occurring all over the nation,
And every time parents agree to buy, it causes a variety of
Sensations.
Ranging from a sharp increase in children’s happiness,
To a plummeting of bank account’s healthiness,
Oh well, traveling around our world isn’t free,
And when I’m reading, there’s nowhere I’d rather be.
For where else can I make such unique friends,
Where else can I live adventures that never really end?
Six String
By: Julia Carpenter
Walhalla Middle School
Fingers flash on frets
Shadows dance on strings
Silky black nylons
Will forever ring
In slight, pure tones
Whispered by candlelight
When slumber refuses me
Gilded, spiraled open
Bass notes produce
In an attempt to cage
The reality of music
But it slips through
Fingers like the smoke
Of burning dreams
Rejected notes of
Inferior quality
Tango with the Staff
Guitar tabs are
Algebra homework
In a vain attempt to
Find the chord x
Out of tune
Nothing is right
Distorted beyond reach
But still I try to
Breach the rosewood,
Conquer the curves
And dips that are melody
Cramped and complaining
Fingers overworked
In a desperate, last
Chance attempt to
Finally play
All my idiotic
Problems away
Poem By: Benedict Coffey
St. Joseph’s Catholic School
It’s one in the afternoon on the twenty-fifth of May,
No day could be any better, not even Christmas Day.
For school has officially ended and summer has begun,
No more homework, quizzes, or tests; it’s time to start the fun.
At last the moment has come when I am done with all my studies,
And can do the things I want to do like hang out with my buddies.
No more boring classes listening to professors preach,
In the next couple of weeks I’ll be heading to the beach.
Early mornings to finish work have all come and gone,
But now it is for fishing that I wake up at break of dawn.
I think what I will do for fun is just sit out by the pool,
And reminisce how great it is that I am done with school.
No more memorizing irrelevant things like the capitol of Vermont,
Finally the day has come when I can just do whatever I want.
I can stay up late watching movies and sleep in as I please,
Or wake up early if I want just to feel the morning breeze.
Ah, summer has finally come, the best time of the year,
But suddenly I hear someone shouting loud directly in my ear.
“Pay attention and sit up straight” I hear my teacher yell,
As I awake in third period history class from this mid-November spell.
A Walk in the Attic
By: Brittany J. Parmer
Easley High School
Climb the stairs to the attic,
The storage area of the house.
The worn fairy tale book of three generations,
The teddy bear lasting
Through thousands upon thousands of hugs and tears,
A small bit of piece it brings,
An album of sentimental summer songs
Along with a leather wallet,
Inside nothing but a picture of a bride,
The look of mercy on her laughing face.
Move along to the rest,
An ebony box holding a silver ring,
A charm bracelet with a St. Christopher charm,
And an old tube of chapstick.
This adventure through time stirs the senses.
An old torn football jersey,
Bright pom-poms beside a Christmas angel,
Wearing a sense of solitude on her face.
A walk in the attic teaches history
Better than a book.
My Room
By: Katie Fontain
St. Joseph’s Catholic School
As you enter the room you might be scared
As a monster might be hiding anywhere
The floor is filled from wall to wall
You should be careful because things might fall
When clothes are piled very high
It makes my mom just want to cry
She enters the room and says,” Oh no”
And then she stumbles across five pillows
After she recovers from her fall
She drops her glass and puts a stain all across the hall
Now I am scared about what she will say next
But then I see her, she looks perplexed
She then says,” I think this is the worst this room has ever looked”
And then she throws me a big book
She tells me I must pick up this room at once
Or I will be grounded this weekend because of the circumstance
So I pick up the room as fast as I can
Buried under seven purses I found my moms favorite pan
When I was done I showed my mother
And she said, “Now I need to go and punish your brother!”