I will name my first born girl, Caesura.

Activity A:


Is there a tune 

more happy

than a daughter’s windchime laugh?  

A silence 

more crushing

than her rolling tear? 

Is there a breeze

more cooling 

than a son’s slumbered sigh?

A thought

more awesome 

than the question that he asks?

And is there a truer joy

when I am the clown?

Shame when I 

Accuse

and rage? 

Peace when I pull up 

the sheet?

Pride when I strike 

the flint?  I

made these kids

and I make these kids.  

And they 

make me.

Activity B:

Behaviour

Swans feed

in the water

and on land.

They are

almost

entirely herbivorous, although

small numbers of aquatic animals

may be eaten.

In the water

food is

obtained

by up-ending or dabbling,

and their diet is

composed of the roots,

tubers,

stems

and leaves

of aquatic

and submerged plants.

(From http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Swan)

Activity 3:

Am I not good enough? Why can't I be a favorite for once? I try my hardest each and every freaking day. And yet, no matter what I do, it's never good enough. I'm always second place, no matter what. And I hate it! I don't care if I sound like a brat! Like this'll get read anyway. It's not good, it's not worth reading. It's a teenager spouting and whining and being a stupid bitch. There, I swore now. Does that show that I have balls now? Does that I show that I actually care? No. It doesn't. I don't need to do that to show that I'm determined. Though, apprently, I have to. I didn't swear in my past poems. I didn't have to. I didn't see why I had to. It didn't need them! It didn't fit with the poem! I'm the poet, I get to decided what shit goes where! There, I swore again. Does this make this better? Is it so wrong that I want someone to be proud of me? Someone to say that I did something right? Is that so fucking wrong? No! Of course it's not! Now I feel like I'm going to cry. God, I'm such an idiot. All I do is bitch to myself. I need to suck it up, and get better. Then someone will recognize me someday. Then someday I'll be good enough. I'll be someone's favorite. Someone will say that my work was worth it. That'll it'll be read. That someone will give a shit about it. 'Cause god knows no one does right now. I'm just a kid who can't write worth a shit. Like I'll actually reach my dreams. Dreams are bullshit. At least mine are. That's for sure.

(Freeverse)

All I do is
bitch
to myself.
I need to suck it up,
and get better.
Then someone will recognize me
someday.
Then someday
I'll be good enough.
I'll be someone's favorite.
Someone will say that my work
was worth it.
That'll it'll be read.
That someone will give
a shit
about it.
'Cause god knows
no one does right now.
I'm just a kid
who can't write
worth a shit.
Like I'll actually reach my
dreams.
Dreams
are bullshit.
At least
mine are.
That's for sure.

(Freeverse bit in poetic form)