High School Me Writes Poetry

The author of the poems

The author of the poems

(Note: I am not a self-proclaimed poet. I like the medium of prose, so poetry is outside of my comfort zone. In addition to the poetry, I will be writing commentary about the poems throughout the post. There are more poems hiding somewhere in my house and if I find them, I might publish them.)

“Winter Wonderland”

Up in New York in the winter

It is a wonderful sight

To see the snow

Falling to the ground

To hear the snowplows running

To hear them crashing past

To know I have school

Most likely the next day

To hear the screams of little kids

Playing in the snow

To wait for the bus

In 20 below

To live in the country

Not far from a tree.



There is a town near Saratoga

The name is Schuylerville

It is a peaceful town except Friday’s

On Friday’s the town closes down

The town closes down for the football games

The hometown’s parents yell

The pep band shrills

The bleacher’s tremble as the hometown scores a goal

The news has come

That we have won

Greenwich goes away

We beat them in another way

Now everyone knows

Schuylerville is number one


“More to New York”

There’s more to New York

Than a bustling city

Schools with rivals

In Schuylerville we know

If we beat Greenwich

We are number one

The rivals can get out of hand

As everyone knows

Yet nobody knows

How much it snows

Six inches to be out

For just one day

That day we can play

It can get cold

Yet young and old

Know New York

Is more than a city

(I call this “The New York Trilogy” or “Anna Just Moved From Upstate New York.” It was written for Freshman English. There is a lack of punctuation because I don’t believe in punctuation for poetry.)  


Clang. Crash. Boom.

Those noises fill the room.

This is so not tad poling.

This is how it is with bowling.

(I thought I was being clever and deep. And, it rhymes.)

“Warrior Pride”

We will be number one

Even if in no one’s mind

Everything is not existent

We are not the kind

We might fight back

But it is not a ride

All we know is what we have

And that is Warrior Pride

(I thought writing this would help encourage pride in my high school. It was written on Homecoming of my junior year of high school.) 

“Ode to Algerbra”

Spinning numbers everywhere

Finding some to add

The number jumble

Like they are some fad

The numbers are frustrating

They need to give me some room

For when the new semester comes around

They will be gone with a broom

(I will never hide my dislike of numbers with the alphabet.)

“Of Light and Beauty”

Of light and beauty, the eyes of lovers

Dance nearby my sorrowful state of pain.

Everyone love struck from here to Dover,

Everything in mind and body to complain.


Of him, I wonder patiently of me.

My mind, my body are all for his sale.

Do his thoughts think of me? I hope with glee.

When I am near him every time, I pale.


Yet, I will pledge my allegiance to him.

It is by him I love and live in state.

Even with times that everything is dim,

My eyes focused nothing else concentrate.


In him everything unattained for me,

All to him, everything gives from me free.

(This is the most advanced my poetry. I wrote it for AP Literature class when we were talking about Beowulf.)


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