Spoken Word Poetry

Maskless by Miles Hodges

The power of judgment within our society is ridiculous, and those who do not think that we are quick to judge clearly need to open their eyes. Miles Hodges describes the life of a boy who has a white mother and black father but is completely white, himself. This boy has, "...lies at the brim of his smile, cheeks safety pinned to the edge by a pile of regrets." This boy puts on a fake smile; no one can see that, "...he's lonely."

We cannot always see past the mask that certain people wear. For those who have been hiding who they are for long, it's near impossible to see that they aren't truly happy.  The poem is somber yet contained. It is moving, to hear Miles speak so confidently. He easily makes it seem as if he had lived this boy’s life, rather than written it. Which imposes the question, was this poem based off of a person Miles knew?

 I would rate this poem 8/10. I liked the presentation and his delivery was clear and touching.

Postcards by Sarah Kay

Lost and searching, writing because "...I don't know how not to." Looking for words,

"repeat[ing] the same mistakes over and over and you don't get any closer. You never get any closer." In a somber yet relatable tone, Sarah Kay depicts the emotions of a young lady who writes post cards to her ex-boyfriend because she can't bring herself to stop. She knows that he isn't receiving them but she feels that if she gives up on him, it would finally become real, as if she was losing him all over again. By writing she holds on to the sliver of hope that maybe he'll come back into her life one day.

The poem artistically demonstrates that even though sometimes those close to us give up, we shouldn't. It's more that OK to feel sad and to miss people. Having someone who plays a large role in your life suddenly walk out is a terrible feeling.

I liked how the poem wraps up in the end, it certainly tied together nicely. I would rate this poem 7/10 because although it tells a story well, it seemed to jump around a bit.

 

 

Instructions for a Bad Day by Shane Koyczan

 

"There will be bad days; times when the world weighs on you for so long it leaves you looking for an easy way out." Shane Koyczan describes pain thoroughly, having a background as a victim to bullying he easily writes about situations that most of us know too well. His poetry often takes a sad tone, yet as his poems progress, they develop into strength and hope. He writes inspiration for people of all ages and in my opinion his poems deserve to be well-known in elementary schools.

We all have bad days, and though they make us feel trapped, they won't last forever. "If you believe with absolute honesty that you are doing everything you can – do more," there will always be tomorrow, and not one reason that we shouldn't be able to make it a better day.

I'd give this poem a 9/10 because it flows nicely and is full of the inspiration that is rarely seen in our media.

College Application

To Whomever It May Concern,

My name inscribed on the Mars Rover.  I am the president of the Rock, Paper, and Scissors Association.  I have my own pyramid in Giza, igloo in Canada, and a city in Australia. Once, I ate 6 saltine crackers in under 60 seconds, without anything to drink. Ants dream of being stepped on by me.

Like Terry Fox, I ran across Canada, but I ran with no feet. I have a Nobel Prize, the Order of Canada, and nine followers on Tumblr. The Leaning Tower of Pisa stood perfectly straight until I kicked it. Chuck Norris fought me, and lost. My face is on the Canadian $500 bill. Unicorns believe that I’m real.

 Forget milk-moustaches, I have grown a full milk-beard. I have dived to the bottom of the Mariana’s Trench, conquered Mount Everest, and scaled the Empire State Building. I’m not saying that I am Spiderman, but we’ve never been seen at the same place at the same time. . I have seen Santa

Einstein learned everything from me. I am fluent in sarcasm, “burns,” and text lingo. Narnia is in my closet. The Beatles only crossed Abbey Road to say “Hi,” to me. I flashed a bright smile at Helen Keller and she wasn’t the same after…

Miley stopped being Hannah Montana when I stopped being friends with her, some believe her actions now are a cry for my attention. The Queen respects me, the Pentagon trusts me, and ghosts fear me. Gandhi came to me for inspiration and advice. I don’t drink and drive. 

And yet, as unbelievable as it seems, I’ve never gone to University.

Milestones - Becoming Mature

            Certain events, even those that are forced, can mark the beginning of maturity. “The Cage,” written by Ruth Minsky Sender, is a true story based on the reflection of how drastically a young Jewish girl’s life was altered during World War II.  Through maintaining a job, becoming the legal guardian of her brothers, and bringing spirit to depressed women in the war, Reva Minsky develops and grows as a person, and a young lady.

While stuck in the Lodz Ghetto, shrouded in despair and desperation, Reva took on the responsibility of caring for her three younger brothers, one of which had accumulated tuberculosis. She adopted an extremely maternal role and worked 15 hours a day to be able to afford the largest amount of food she could possibly get. Knowing that her family was struggling to survive under the unjust conditions, she swallowed back any pain she felt from work and put on a tough face for the sake of her brothers. She had been left with no choice but to be courageous and move on with life even though the children’s only parental figure, their mother, had been sent to a concentration camp.

           Once the police in the ghetto had learned that the four children were living on their own, they put all of the children up for adoption. Having turned 16, days before any actual adoption could take place, Reva fought for the right to adopt her brothers and be their legal guardian. Meant to keep the children together, Reva’s handling of the situation had proven that she was mature enough to care for her brothers, as she had before.

            After being separated from her brothers and sent to a concentration camp, Reva, still a teenager, brought light to the otherwise depressing lives that had been forced upon the prisoners. She secretly wrote and read her beautiful, original works of poetry that instilled hope and joy in the others. Many of the women, left with shredded faith, were inspired by Reva and her creativity. It would have been undeniably easy to be caught up in the oppressing setting that was forced upon her, but through working for her family, caring for her younger brothers and being a leader for women in the concentration camps, Reva became a mature young lady.

Cover Letter

To whom it may concern,

I’d like to introduce myself to you as an applicant for the Fine Arts program at your institute.

My life has revolved around art for as long as I can remember. I view the world as merely a series of colours and shapes, finding beauty in the simplest of objects. The clammy feeling of clay between my fingers, the sound of graphite being dragged over paper, and the dynamic juxtaposition between lines and splashes across a canvas not only captivate my attention, but also bring a sense of relaxation to my entirety. The ability to lose myself while producing my own art or observing the work of others has lead me to the conclusion that what I desire most is a life involved in art.

Though art consumes a large part of my life, I posses many other strengths that help me in almost any situation whether it’s at school, at work, or in social situations. I am very detail oriented and when it comes to organization, it is easy for me to look at the “big picture.” Additionally, I posses a refined ability to problem solve. I am a quick learner and work well with numbers and languages. I also enjoy taking on my own projects and the leadership involved with that. Currently, I have accumulated over 125 hours of volunteer service at The Village By The Station, (a local complex care and assisted living facility). Most of my work there has been art-oriented. Some has even been recognized throughout the entire organization.

I'd like to earn my MFA, Masters of Fine Arts, then pursue a career in the film industry as a graphic designer. Eventually my hope is to become an art director, who is recognized on an international level. I hope to continue to produce my own pieces as well. Teaching others is enjoyable and my MFA may help me pursue a teaching career in time. 

Thank you for taking the time to oversee my application,

Sydney Askeland

Letter Of Concern

Sydney Askeland#8-5050 13^th AvenueOkanagan Falls, B.C.V0H 1R4

December 27^th 2013

Jane WatchinguManagerStudent Pro Painters

Dear Ms. Watchingu,

I am writing to advise you of several concerns I have regarding one if my co-workers, Joe Talksalot.

I have noticed on many occasions that Joe arrives several minutes late for his shifts, or leaves early - these situations result in other staff covering during his absence. I have also regarded his interactions with the other employees and Joe has a tendency to be confrontational. It is important for all the employees to feel safe and comfortable in their work environment at Student Pro Painters. Likewise, the workload should be evenly shared yet Joe rarely partakes in cleaning up at the end of the day, which again means that other employees need to take on the neglected tasks. This often results in the employees not being able to finish their shifts on time.

While he is at work, Joe takes frequent breaks to smoke and it has been noted that he seldom throws away his used cigarettes. This changes our customers’ perspective on the professionalism of the company.

I’m proud to be part of the team at Student Pro Painters, and thought it would be to everyone’s best interest to bring these concerns to light as soon as possible.

Thank you for your time,

Sydney Askeland

The Wait

Beep. Beep. For once in my life I was comforted by the annoying sounds of heart monitors in the halls. Taking in a deep breath of the stagnant air, I studied the way my worn-down sneakers looked in contrast with the bleach-white linoleum floor. Though nurses and doctors frantically buzzed around the hospital with squeaking shoes and spoke in hushed tones, there was an uncomfortable silence that embraced the waiting room. Almost 2 o’clock in the morning, half the lights in the corridor were shut off and the remaining buzzed in a way that could be undermined if there was anything else to pay attention to. The few unfamiliar faces sitting in the chairs around me were mostly etched with angst or sorrow. The man sitting across from me seemed too content reading his newspaper. His head was adorned with salt and pepper hair, and laugh lines sat playfully on his forehead. He'd been here for less than forty minutes and I envied his calm demeanor. At least I wasn't a complete wreck, merely the shell of a human. The only thing I'd done for the past three hours was sit, and observe. I guess it's true that time seems to slow when you're waiting; the second hand of the clock was ticking unbearably slow. An aching in my back had intensified from slouching in the cold plastic chairs while I drifted in and out of thought. I was still finding it difficult to embrace the harsh reality in front of me; my dad had been in a car accident. My hero, the man that I'd always thought was invincible was unconscious and attached to multiple electronic machines just down the hall. Under critical condition and frightfully close to death, I could hear his heart monitor beating steadily. Enough to ease the helplessness that I’d felt for him, I knew it still wasn’t enough to ensure that he would be okay. Refusing to move unless a nurse would invite me in to see him, I let my heavy eyelids flutter closed and felt the weight of my chest rise and fall with each breath. I listened to the only sound that I had been able to find comfort in as I drifted to sleep that night. Beep. Beep.

O Capitain! My Capitain!

Sydney Askeland

#8-5050 13th Avenue

Okanagan Falls, B.C.

V0H 1R4

October 1, 2013

Captain Van Camp

Commander

HMS Princess Margaret

O Captain, My Captain:

Such tragedy, distasteful tragedy has struck us. You are a noble man Captain Van Camp. I cannot imagine how hard it was to make such a decision. Unlike the others, I understand the heroic legacy in which you wish to achieve by saving five of our young lives.

This is why I am writing to you, O Right Honorable Captain. You see, the others amongst the ship are going to try everything: begging, bribing, sweet-talking, etc. But I, Your Excellency, understand. Most of us are the same in age, very young indeed. We have our lives ahead of us, or at least five of us do. We have families and friends who care, dozens of people waiting for our safe return. If they haven't yet broadcasted our misfortune on the radio, our loved ones are sure to worry when we don't contact them.

What would you do if you could live through this? Where would you go? Who would you confess your love to? I had never put much thought into my plans for the future. Now, under the circumstances, a million options are buzzing through my head. So many chances and opportunities I would have had. I would make a difference. I would go to school, get the top education possible. I would find my soul mate and stop at nothing to make him mine. I would have children, and give them the world on a silver platter. First, I must make it through this. You see, how many of these crewmen have plans? How many have a real future? Are there any doors open for them? Can they make a pure path for themselves, unscathed by the temptations of urban sin?

This is why, Captain Van Camp, I can assure you that I am a worthy candidate. Knowing how close I had come to a premature death, I will make the best life imaginable for myself. It is hard for a woman to compete in such circumstances, but a gentleman would never let a woman die before a man, would he? That is how I see you. I know you are the wisest to have sailed these deceitful seas. Ne'er should it be uttered that you had been anything other than a hero. Though I merely hope to sway your decision, my respect for such an honorable man has left me in a contented place. I realize how hard it will be to make the decisions, to play the role of God. I will not be mad sir; it has been the experience of a lifetime to serve under your command. I hope that it will not be the last great experience in my life. I have had a fulfilling childhood, and the rest lies ahead of me.

Thank you for your consideration, Captain Van Camp. It has been unforgettable.

Sincerely,

Sydney Askeland