Guest Poet: Student Poetry Sample

Dearest Readers,
I do apologize for not being available to post poetry lately. Here’s a guest poem by one of my students.

Poem 1: by K.

I am beautiful and lovely.
I wonder what it would be like to be rich.
I hear an angel singing.
I see my teacher.
I want the class to be over.
I am beautiful and lovely.

I pretend I am a Queen.
I feel the summer is hot.
I touch the cat’s ear.
I worry about my weight.
I cry that my key is lost.
I am beautiful and lovely.

I understand why people love me.
I say every girl is a princess.
I dream to travel around the world.
I try to be happy.
I hope the world will be peaceful.
I am beautiful and lovely.



Contentment is not some small thing,
Or a mere feeling to be lost.
Not a thrill or an ecstatic fling…
Truth is.. exhilaration cannot compare to it…
Enduring contentment is a real beauty.
Not worrying about tomorrow and focused on today,
The soul is satisfied daily…
More than words can express in any way.
Even though it is not always physical,
Never the less it is real.
True contentment never dies.

Eyes Open

Opening his eyes late in the day,
Sunshine burns his eyes…
Cool the night was and beautiful the stars,
And now the harshness of day.
Rushing for the shadows, he longs for the twilight.

Inspired by the story “Creature of the Night, Lady of the Day” by Alyssa Plock:

He never slept, so he made an asset of it. He was a midnight explorer, an observer of the back streets, a watchman on the wall. Occasionally, he would eavesdrop on the police scanners and follow behind the action at a good distance, but mostly he just drew.

He kept a flashlight in a small pack, along with a seemingly endless supply of batteries. And he drew the phantoms of everyday objects that no one would look twice at during a walk to work. A light pole, a porch, a house. These were his companions in his lonely watch.

Then one day, just as he was turning in as the dawn came in, he noticed a new shadow. It was new to him, anyway. The shade was seated on a bench, just waiting, still as the night. He drew it. And he was drawn to it.

As the first light made all of his night friends disappear into their daylight disguises, he heard the scratch scricth of a pencil. And the shade on the bench turned into a radiant woman with a sketch book on her lap.

Ready as he was to disappear into a dark room to sleep, he let down his guard and approached her.

“Hello, what are you doing here at this time of day?” He asked.

“Oh,” she said sweetly, “I am always here.”

“Me too. I have never seen you before,” he said.

“Do you leave before daylight?” She asked.


“I always get up to draw the dawn,” she said as the first light brightened her green eyes.

“I draw the night.”

After admiring each other’s pictures for a few moments, a bit of sorrow filled them both. Attracted as they were to each other, they knew it would never work. For his inspiration could never leave the dark and hers could never leave the light. The man slowly walked away without even a glance back over his shoulder at this lady of the day.

Guest Poet: Hna. Inés de Jesús

Ya no estás
por Hna. Inés de Jesús

Vela la noche tu sueño profundo,
Vela solemne y con gran silencio,
Un viento corre lleno de tristeza,
Murmura al oído: Ya no está.
Ya no está mas, ya no está.
El dueño de mi amor ya no está.

Se oprime el corazón al recordar tus palabras,
Como olvidar tu mirada y vuelve a penetrar,
Mas allá el dolor como una saeta,
Y vuelve a brisar la herida de saber que ya no te veo mas.
Y aumenta el dolor porque ya no estas junto a mi.

La piedra ha sellado tu sepultura y con ella.
Se acaban mis esperanzas,
Tan solo unos dias todos te proclamaban rey,
Y ahora la vida te arrebataron, tan solo un instante,
Partías el pan conmigo, tu voz era fuego que encendía,
Mi corazón.

No puedo olvidarme de esa mirada,
Que descubría completa mi alma,
Y tu me hacías fuerte cuando yo era débil,
Me diste vida nueva para ir contigo,
Hasta el final, pero ya no estas.
Todo lo que he vivido contigo, contigo,
Parece haber terminado en esa cruz.

Y ahora no hay nada mas adelante,
Sino temor y desaliento. ¿donde estas maestro?
Yo sé que estoy despierto,
Quiero creer, quiero esperar, seguir amando,
No me abandones. ¿a donde has ido?
Yo no me resigno a vivir si ya no estás,
Si tu no estás, no me dejes creyendo solo.,
No me abandones. ¿a donde has ido?
Yo no me resigno a vivir, si ya no estás,
Si tu no estás.

Contra todo lo que siento esperaré,
Pase la noche y vuelva a amanecer.


Hello All,
I was looking for some poetic inspiration, and I sure found it!

They took to silence. They touched each other without comment and without progression. A hand on a hand, a clothed arm, resting on an arm. An ankle overlapping an ankle, as they sat on a beach, and not removed. One night they fell asleep, side by side… He slept curled against her back, a dark comma against her pale elegant phrase. -A.S. Byatt


They took to silence. They touched each other,
Without comment and without progression.
Hand on hand…fully clothed…deep lovers.
Trusting, sitting… each holding the other.
Sometimes they fall asleep, by accident…
Thankful to find each other when they wake…
He often takes her face in his strong hands,
Just to see the shine that her dark eyes make.
Even now, they dance in the white sands.
For a time, the world and its cares fade out.
She recalls when he asked her to marry,
Now many days have passed… too many to now count.
He smiles and looks out on the deep ocean.
Slowly, the yellow sun has now risen.

I think i will definitely use quotes to inspire my poetry in the future. 🙂


is the top
of the pyramid of life.
It brings extasy, euphoria, zest,
And is the core of why we exist in this life.
I do not refer to Eros alone or temporal sensuality.
I refer to a love full of enthusiasm, zeal, and selfless care.
It values the other, above self, but not in a self-distructive manner.

Guest Poet: Raúl Gómez Jattin

Por Raúl Gómez Jattin

Como fuerza de monte
en un rincón oscuro
la infancia nos acecha
Así el leopardo– Martha Cristina Isabel —
El leopardo se asoma por tus ojos
ha saltado derrumbando años
y sobre mi niñez– de bruces– me he derribado
Sueños de un día trepando los peldaños de la eternidad:
Tú venías por el sol y yo era de barro triste
Tú tenías noticias del universo y yo era ignaro
Los años– Martha– con su carga de piedras afiladas
nos ha separado
Hoy te digo que creo en el pasado
como punto de llegada