This week the young viking writers were eager to try their hand at love poems–a topic they have been excited to write for weeks. They read and thoroughly enjoyed Matthew Olzmann’s “Mountain Dew Commercial Disguised as a Love Poem” and Kim Addonizo’s “My Heart.” They were then asked to write a love poem to a person or place using the two poems as models. I am so proud of these young writers.
“My Heart” by Ayden S.
My dad is in my heart forever or I don’t know.
My sisters were in my heart for a while.
My old house is lost in my heart.
My grandma is forever in my heart.
My grandpa is dead in my heart.
My friends are in and out of my heart.
My money chases my heart.
My nostalgia is reminiscing in my heart.
God will forever be in my heart.
Kindness will fade in and out of my heart.
All of these people and emotions were in my heart
at one point or forever will be.
Something falls out of love so they fall out of my heart.
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“Love is Love” by Conor M.
Love can be mean
Love can be Irish
Spring green green
Love is lost
among our generation.
It might be time
to start a new nation
world war three
burn the world to the ground.
The globe in my hand
like a pitcher on the mound.
Once everything’s gone,
we then start anew,
atop billions of dead bodies
cherry blossoms start to bloom.
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“A Friend of Fur” by Louie B.
On any given day.
On any given hour.
In any given place
you are the 1st thing I see
when I turn on my phone.
When I feel like the world can’t
get any worse, yet it seems like
it does, you are there.
Your presents makes the world feel normal.
When I pet you, I don’t just feel calm. I feel at peace.
Your puts put away my melancholy.
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“Perfect” by Jonathan R.
Walking you home in the 10 degree weather
freezing, shivering, but I didn’t care.
The touch of your skin made me feel warm
making the breeze feel weaker and weaker.
You yell when your order is wrong.
You laugh at anything I say.
You’re addicted to the color pink
but listen to music about violence
and guns. Because you do everything
for me, you give me free therapy sessions
and when you’re mad: it’s like sniffing
through a garden of flowers.
