On The Mantelshelf

The glistening ornaments shone in the misty sunlight, crystals, glasses of green and red- diamonds, the children giggled, wide eyes gazing into the empty cottage. Through fear the wind may catch the door, they creaked it open slowly and before shutting the latch behind them. Like boys in a candy store the girls marveled at the decorative creations, glazed eyed and open mouthed.Millie, being only 16 and still violently naive, stretched out a hand, leaning towards an old oak music box, before having it violently snatched away by Lou. "Do you want to wake her?" she hissed silently before resting the box back in its place.

Picking a random paragraph in a book of childrens stories I put pen to paper and chose to continue the story with just one more paragraph. Knowing nothing about the story (after having read only one paragraph) i chose to focus on the naive nature of the two girls and their child like facination with the ornaments on Miss Parsons mantelshelf.

Poetry- Spoken Word Poem

Who cares for a hum of rhythms and rhymes?
Just a song to be sung that no one wants to sing
Poetry
Pointless noises and motions swirling around the heads of believers and dreamers
While the outsiders stand confused and dazed
Wondering why they can't see inside the heads of these so called artists

That childish notion that saying it aloud will somehow make it better
That someone, somewhere will hear your cry
And rush with aided arms
They will hear the words you are screaming, bleating aloud
But no one cares to listen to the words, your shallow hushed tones
With little or no meaning to him nor her

No matter how much you bleat and cry somebody is always going to turn a blind eye
Because someone else will always scream louder
Cry a little harder
And ring their lyrics through the ears that you are so desperate to reach
But just because you are wrong, does that mean you are not right?
For in someone's ears your words ring true

And as the wind passes through your ears and you hear that birdsong one final time
May you scream at the top of your lungs
"Listen to my name! Do I not deserve to tell my truth?"
Will they cry with you
Or turn shallow heads in shame?
I do not know

But I say it is worth it
Your song to be sung by yourself alone may only reach one ear
But that is one more than the silent
Your voice matters
It matters more or less than another? no
Equal to all


Let your voice be heard
Poetry

(This poem was written to be spoken to aloud)
Some people are so closed minded, poetry to them is just a string of words chosen only to make english teachers have something to teach, but that is not the case. Language is a tool that we use in order to survive! it doesn't take a genius to string together a rhyme, but to understand it, to feel the words when you say them aloud, that takes passion and understanding.
The thought behind this poem was sparked by John Green's most recent VlogBrothers video, entitled "Poetry Makes Nothing Happen", probably one of my favorite VlogBrother videos to date. If you have not seen it already please do take a moment to check it out (link bellow) 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nDwTjPsG4b0

28.12.60

Sheltered under the cloak
Of a book 
Physics probably
Not one to dabble in creativity 
He claims
With a violin perched at his side

My poetic acquaintance
With the pen at his lips 
Pressing glass eyes to paper words
"Meaningless drivel" 
He claims 
As he eagerly turns to the next page

Glass stars and crystal moons
Tiptoeing over time and space
Round his head and onto his page
Misunderstood 
He claims 
As he hides for another day 

I picked a random book from my school library and looked at the library card in the front, I chose a random name from the small list of people who had borrowed it and wrote a poem about the type of person who I imagined them to be. 
The boy had borrowed the poetry book on the 28th December 1960, I imagined him to be smart and have a passion for science but have a hidden creative flair that he tries to keep hidden from the world.