Introduction

          This is a blog that I made for my poem anthology, in 7th grade English class. I started by putting my poetry reflection-where I wrote about my favorite writing styles and challenges I have when I write. Then I put 6 poems which I wrote myself, using different styles. My favorite one of those is called: "Hair Dryers," and it's a nonsense poem. After those I have 3 poem analysis's of Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe, The Seal, by William Jay Smith, and finally Dreams, by Langston Hughes. Hope you enjoy!

-Julia Lieberman

Poetry Reflection

          When I am told to simply write a poem I sit down and think, but normally nothing comes into my head. Ideas that don't seem good to write a poem about, like a window or a shoe pop into my brain but I never choose them. I think deciding on what to write about is the most challenging part of poetry for me. However, once I have chosen a topic, I like improvising and letting all of my ideas out onto the paper. Sometimes I'll write two or three poems about the topic and then combine the good parts together. Sometimes I'll notice that one or two lines rhyme so I'll try to change the whole poem to make it rhyme. One of my favorite styles of poetry writing is nonsense poems. I really enjoyed writing, "The Hairdryer," because I was able to get out all of my ideas and not have to change them up so that the poem would seem, "deep." It was a totally random idea, and I didn't have to do very much editing, so that was a pleasant experience.
           I also really like to read poems, and trying to decipher what message the author is trying to get across. I like looking at different styles of writing so that I can have a model to work towards when I sit down to write a poem.

            However another thing that I find challenging is editing poems. Normally when I write a poem I try my best so then when I try to change it up I don't know how, but I normally choose my favorite lines and then edit the rest. I like writing poetry and hope to improve my ability and to continue to try out the different styles.

That Song and The Phoenix

This is a poem about getting carried away into music by Julia Lieberman.

That Song

It took me away from reality

And into the beat

That alternate universe

The feeling was sweet

Oh the voices

The guitar and the drums

Rocking out and swaying

I give it two thumbs

This is my world

I could live here forever

No stress and no worries

Nothing gets better

And after the instruments have stopped

It kept going in my head

It was stuck on repeat

Because like I said

It took me away from reality

And into the beat

That alternate universe

The feeling was sweet

But now as I lay here in bed

Another song

Pops into my head

The Phoenix is another poem that I wrote, based off of my understanding of phoenixes from reading Harry Potter. Phoenixes die but are then reborn from their ashes, and their tears carry healing powers.

http://www.harrypotterforseekers.com/symbols/creatures.php 

The Phoenix

The cry,

Of a baby,

Conceived from it’s own ashes,

It’s fierce beak turns to the open sky

Ready for a new life.

Out of those young

yet somehow old eyes

Tears leak

Each one holding a great deal of power

They heal

They sizzle

Until all wounds are restored

It’s job is finished.

The gentle croak

Emanating from that deep,

Old,

fiery throat

Its intelligent eyes judging

what lies ahead.

Yet somehow it knows what’s ahead,

Ducking its head behind its wing,

It’s the last time.

But again,

the cry

Of the baby

That has sprung from the ashes once again

Pierces the air,

Reborn. 

Ode to Powder

Ode to Powder is an ode by Julia Lieberman.

                                                                  http://www.alaska-in-pictures.com/chugach-powder-snowboarder-2747-pictures.htm

Ode to Powder

Oh powder,

You’re a light blanket of fluff

When my French fry-skis cross your powdery wonderland

I feel a bliss

That the best snow in the world

could not but call fair.

Adrenaline courses through my veins

As happy as a 5 year old with a lollipop I will rip it up

Turning through the snorkel pow-pow

My fat skis leaving the first set of tracks to the bottom

of the glorious run

People on the chairlift glance down at me, jealous

That I am able to sit on that royal throne of powder

Back strait

Mouth curved upwards into a smile

And bounce through your majestic clouds.

Powder,

You’re the best thing to ever come into being

Natural

Genuine

Honest

Delightful.

You’re sparkles fly into the air

As I cut through your mysterious

Untracked snow

As it splays out behind me

In a white firework

I laugh aloud,

Thrilled that you are so kind as to treat me to such a show.

The Grapplers

The Grapplers is an extended metaphor poem by Julia Lieberman.

The Grapplers

The spindly aspen tree roots

are bony

fleshless hands

just waiting to reach out with their ice-cold grip

and trip a passer-by in the penetrating darkness.

Popping out of the earthy

Wormy dirt,

They twist and bump,

generously donating a stubbed toe.

Though they hide underneath the dark

They make themselves known.

Holding these Moments Dear

This is a poem about skiing with friends by Julia Lieberman.

http://www.google.com/search?client=safari&rls=en&q=volkl+kenja&oe=UTF-8&um=1&ie=UTF-8&hl=en&tbm=isch&source=og&sa=N&tab=wi&ei=1oc-T83bO-iSiALh9djCAQ&biw=1092&bih=662&sei=2Ic-T5r6IYThiAKSq6S9AQ 

Holding These Moments Dear

We throw back our heads and laugh with glee

We can’t wait to try out our rental skis

We’re delighted to be in the gentle breeze

Nobody is there

Nobody can judge or stare

As we fall through the dust-covered trees

Into the out-of-bounds

We must stand our own grounds

We are responsible alone

For the cold winter wonderland

Adventures are unplanned

And from our experiences we grow

The fresh air blows

A white firework show

As free styled and daring we go

On light fluffy clouds filled with a treat

Run after run we complete

The first tracks in the marvelous, care-free snow

We bounce down the sparkling run

Underneath the cold shining sun

For miles and miles it’s clear

Snow covered mountains wink

In the bright sun we grin and blink

Holding these precious moments dear

I am From

This is an I am From poem by Julia Lieberman

I am From

I am from the strewn papers

All across the floor

I am from the not yet put away clothes

In a line from the closet to the sticker-covered door

I am from the small talk parties

For relatives and different foods

From grandma giving the evil eye

http://www.superstock.com/stock-photos-images/4034-27092

To those that are not the Jews

I am from my secret diary

Hidden where it won’t be found

Full of memories and ideas

And places to which we got around

I am from walks back from the park

To that familiar “popcorn” cherry tree

My friendly doggy stuck to my side

Playing with the soccer ball, just him and me.

I am from endless packs of gum

And old photos that I’m too lazy to take down

I am from my Jewish culture

And my plastic 5-year old trophy crown

I am from my writing

As I express my thoughts freely

I am from my choices

Yes, this is me.