Young poets of Tacoma

Leave a comment

I finally have a sneak peek of works from the “Poetry in the City” workshops!  These are only the rough drafts, but they are already amazing!  We were all impressed by these talented young writers.


The cold wire fence holds in everything, but three tiny TV’s, nestled among bright shocks of dandelions, obscured by tall grass.

The small blue house is the right size only for dolls, yet the people have left their mark with a yard full of shattered frames and musty toys.

A cold, gray giant towers overhead, windows blank and yard desolate, no sign of life emanating from its dark doorway.

Candy wrappers discarded too long ago float silently past still walls.


The freshest sidewalks in town

Down by the water and high rises

With no rough crags to trip over

But no feet to trip

Only open concrete panes.



A group of people can

Make anything:

A community




As I walk around this diverse town

And I see the signs of Spring


The bright yellow daffodils blooming

To the song of a small gray bird

I smell a large car’s exhaust

As I look down to spy a piece of trash

There is a delicate beauty

Within the rough

And I’m reminded of what this could be

Beside a bright blue house

Stands an almost empty park

With lots of room for play

As I think about our beautiful city

I think of thing to change

Like the empty park

With lifeless swings

And the eerie sound of silence

Love and Alanah

I come from a place with a lazy dog, a big dog, like a wolf.

Across from us, a white dog with a pink skirt, a spoiled dog.

Some dogs can be spoiled to get everything thing that they want.

I come from a place that smells like shampoo.

Hip hop being heard from the cars.

Cars with the windows down.

Big trucks, brown, green, dark green.

And one orange taxi.

I come from a place with a house with a bridge, a path that goes up and down, up and down.

I would tell that house it’s cool, even if it makes me feel scared.


I see different houses uniquely built and painted bright, while friendly people passed by.

I feel gravel on the street while stumbling on an empty an empty box of candy.

I smell smoke and exhaust coming from the busy street filled with running cars.

I hear the squawk of a crow perched in a bush.

While thinking of this neighborhood I would change the trash on the street and garbage spilled out on the road.

Come down to the center to see the final, polished creations!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s