Skill for Something

School is about expression

Tongues rolling off

The roofs of mouths

Like rolling waves

Into new places

Uncharted territory.

Education is about

Learning about life

And about yourself

What makes you tick

And stick

Like a magnet

To your passion

Whether it be

Human anatomy

Or gastronomy

Or analyzing a line of poetry

Or learning why trees

Grow so high

From a secluded seed

To giants

Ascending into clear skies

Because whatever it is

The magnet will not repel

That which does quell

The eager student’s mind

After all, both sides of a magnet

Do attract

Only they attract different things.

But then reality sets in

When walking down those

Narrow halls

Trying to ignore

The constant din

That surrounds you

Like darkness at night

Everything feels tight.

If these walls could talk,

They would remain silent

Like so many students do

Lost in what educators say

Must be

Instead of considering

What might be.

And if my report card told the truth

It would say that grades don’t matter

And self-esteem does

That your skill for something

Doesn’t necessarily match

The number emblazoned on that

Perfect piece of paper

That piece of paper

That seems to determine

Your self-worth

And potential in life.

Until students stop caring

Uninspired by the monotonous

Drone of teachers

Or the pale lights

That suck out life

Or the red splotches

Like blood splatters

On your last report

When you expressed yourself

And apparently your opinion

Wasn’t “right.”

School is about expression

Tongues rolling off

The roofs of mouths

Like rolling waves

Into new places

Uncharted territory

Because voice matters

Even if you’re lost

In a seemingly endless sea.

Katy Thompson

Block: 3

March 26, 2012

Man’s Best Friend

He doesn’t bark

He snorts

He doesn’t run

He waddles

His favourite food

Is anything

He sleeps on his back

His tongue protruding

And flapping as he snores

Loud as thunder

And his big brown eyes

Almost melt your heart

He nuzzles his chin

Into unsuspecting thighs

As he begs at the dinner table

Feed him kibbles

He’ll spit them out in disgust

Onto the tile floor

Greet him at the door

He’ll look right past you

Waiting for Mom to return

Try to play tug of war

Or talk to him like he’s

Your baby

He’ll look at you

Like you’re off your rocker

Tell him to rollover,

Play dead, high-five

Good luck with that

Unless you’ve got

Food to offer

Take him for a fun-filled day

At Doggy Daycare

He’ll throw up in the car

Shout “squirrel”

He’ll know if it’s a false alarm

Throw a ball for him

He won’t fetch it

Because he’s too “mature”

Leave him alone for too long

Be prepared to face the consequences

He’s prejudiced against big dogs

And he hates his own shadow

For some reason

People think he’s really cute

They try to pet him

And so of course he bites them

Try to hug him

He’ll reciprocate it

With a shower of sneezes

But you know he loves you

Because that’s what

Keeps you sane.


Katy Thompson
Block: 3
March 19, 2012

The Window

Gossamer threads of early morning sun

And the sweet smell of honeydew

Seep in through my bedroom window

I stretch and pull the languid bed sheets

Off the restless rapture that is my soul

Embedded in a zealous body

I eagerly race to the open window

And see spring

Life and colour

A conflagration of green and blue

Summer soon approaches

And again I skip merrily to the window

The sight is still as magnificent as ever

Hews of silver and pure gold

Pour in through that bedroom window

There is growth

And the lush trees breathe in the fresh afternoon breeze

Now it is autumn

And the trees are many different colours

But the leaves fall to the ground as I walk up

To that omniscient window

The sky is aspen, grey

And the sun ducks behind fierce thunderheads

But sometimes comes out to play

On that dark and dreary autumn day

A sudden darkness embodies the world

When winter at last arrives

An irrefragable loss of vibrancy and light

Enervates the hollow room and me

I hobble into the bedroom

Close the shutters

And lay on the bed

Covering myself with the heavy shroud

I say good night to my room

The window

And my soul.

By: Katy Thompson

Block: 3

March 12, 2012

My Best Friend’s Brain

Below a glossy canvas

Lurks a dark undercoat

Cool paint brushing

Against the salty seabed

Waters change with

The clouds – nature’s kites

A tsunami of feelings

Bulge and smash

Against electrifying currents

Moods like tides

Rise and fall

Rise and fall

Rain splatters like grey paint

Against her face

Waves of pain crash against

Jagged cliffs – those tenacious teeth

Jutting out

Into darkening skies

The storms of life

Until sunrays filter in

Threads of light

Thin as cobwebs

Illuminating the pastel picture

Her stomach undulating

As she laughs

Like a jellyfish

Propelling itself

In any direction it pleases

Around speckled fish

And curling seaweed

And creatures that glow

Miles deep with their bioluminescence

An ocean so full of life

And power

Like the consequences

Of a brush stroke

Memories wash ashore

A soggy pink shoe

And crumbling shells

A rusty shovel, too

I’m buried in the sands

Of the past

But the ocean never forgets

Soon the tide will carry

Everything back out

To rejoin the vast sea

And the mural will be complete.

Katy Thompson

Block: 3

March 5, 2012