Dylan james Youth Project

Four Years-The Story So Far
All my friends have gone away
Sailing vessels leaving the bay
For the best four years and the promise of pay
But they don't even know what they're chasing
Greater men have tried and failed
And all this time I thought that I'd stay
As a ghost who would haunt this mountain
And all this time I thought that I'd stay
Alive in the ground digging out my coffin
Time was short on courts and pavement
We knew we had to leave
But did I make the most of every day
And did I give to not receive
Are there any better words to express the full extent of my grief
It hits home when you're not home
There's no space to grow, and all this time not much to show

Continued
Maybe I should hold my tongue
And do my best to live with the stress that's mounting
I never thought I never thought a bond was something we lacked.
I got to find another way to keep myself intact
I understand we all went away so we could have the stories to share when
we're back
Try to pass the same old s*** to get ahead and start your paper stack
I never thought I never thought a bond was something we lacked
I guess some of us just needed a change to heal the bones we cracked
It takes four years away from your friends
To make you all forget how much time you spent
*cussing is very naughty

I like this poem (song) because of how real it is. I’ve seen both of my brothers
graduate High School and when they leave it’s like it never happened. They rarely see
their old friends and college is a whole new experience. The mood this poem expresses is
real. High School will not last.

Basic Sally
Basic Sally loved romantic flicks
She wanted a guy like one on the screen
On her 14th birthday she made a wish
This wish had magic unseen
I wish for a famous boyfriend
I wish he’d knock at my door
Never once will our love end
Movies made sally want more
Sally waited on her front steps
Days and nights not wanting to move
Holy s***, Sally actually thought her wish would come true

Nostalgia-Alicia Shultz
When I look back on the last three years of my life
There's nothing to consider, nothing but air
Three years of nostalgia over the previous five
An out of body experience-
Going through motions but not truly alive
I wasn't interesting, did nothing worthwhile
Nothing that I can look back on and smile
I can't look back on what was me looking back
For all I see is echoes
From some time, some place

This poem grabbed my attention because everyone has a warped
perception on their youth. Some remember it as being much better then it actually
was, and others remember it being much worse. I’ve listened to my parents and
grandparents talk about their early life and they all seem to have that trait in
common. The tone of this poem is what drew me to it. The writer has very strong
feelings about nostalgia.

Uhhhh…
“Do you ever feel, like a plastic bag?
Drifting through the wind, wanting to start again?”
No I don’t…
Katy Perry, you have schizophrenia…

The Face Behind-Nipun Arona
Masks I have many, masks to hide behind
Masks to hide the bitter truths, masks that make you blind
Masks that I am afraid to take off, and none of them is “we”
For pretending is an art that is second nature to me.
True, I give an impression that I am all secure,
That everything is sunny with me, and life a vigor
But please don't believe me, oh please help me find
Find the truth beneath the lies, find the face behind

I chose this poem because of how true it is. Many people are
not themselves and are “fake” in a way in public. You can not judge
someone based on what you see. There is always more underlying
things to a person. The rhyme scheme in this poem was suberb with
end rhymes in lines of 2.

Weekend Brevity
Fall asleep with the moon
Wake up about noon
That’s when the sun hits my face in my room
Laying in my bed not wanting to move
Serene Saturdays with nothing to lose

Martha-Bo Burnham
Martha was ugly like a shaven baboon
So she wrapped herself in a curtain cocoon
A week later she finally emerged
And smelled like s***
What a psycho

This poem had a great sense of humor if you
can understand it. What does that have to do with
youth Dylan? Everyone in the world is beautiful
Dylan? What’s your problem Dylan? You have
the questions and I have no answers.

Magic-Bo Burnham
Read this to yourself, read it silently.
Don’t move your lips, don’t make a sound.
Listen to yourself, listen without hearing anything.
What a wonderfully weird thing, huh?
NOW MAKE THIS PART LOUD!
SCREAM IT IN YOUR MIND!
DROWN EVERYTHING OUT.
Now hear a whisper, a tiny whisper.
Now read this next line with your best crotchety-old-man voice.
“Hello there Sonny, does your town have a post office?”
Awesome! Who was that? Whose voice was that?
It sure wasn’t yours!
How do you do that?
How?
Must be magic.

This poem has a overall good sense of humor.
It makes you think and provides a good dose of
imagery. I chose this poem because it is different
from the norm. It really makes you think in a
weird way. It is my favorite by this author.

Johnny
Johnny and his pals sat by the camp fire with night overhead.
A bear walked out of the tree-line looking angry and unfed.
Johnny took out his magical wand.
Chanted at the beast to be gone!
Then the bear tore them all to shreds.

When I was Young-blink 182
I woke up today surrounded by blackness
The small morning sun devoured the process
It's always been fun when I get a bit nervous
And it's hard to say but I feel a bit weightless
The more I admit I feel a bit anxious
The more I go on the less I can face this
And those rotten things that live in our shadow
We walk on the line of death and the gallows
And hope that we clear a path we can follow
It's the worst damn day
(It doesn't hurt that much)
Of my life
I made a mess today
(It doesn't hurt that much)
I'm alright
It doesn't hurt that much
When I was young the world it was smaller
The cities were vast the buildings were taller
I felt really strong my parents seemed stronger
But life has a way it showers with greatness
Then takes it away those pieces that made us
Then teaches you things you'd never imagine
We all get the same the memories the burdens
The pictures we made they still form a pattern
They cautiously say does it all matter

I chose this poem because the words are
relatable. There is also a distinct rhyme scheme
that rotates in and out. The lyrics are very strong
displaying the writer’s feeling about youth and
nostalgia. This song was released in 2012. It’s
been overplayed by myself ever since.

When I grow up-Grace Andreaachii
I'd like to be a fireman
And put the fires out
And ride the big red engine round the town.
Up and down! Up and down!
The big light going round and round!
And the big siren screaming.
I'd like to be a Ringmaster
And wear a coat and hat.
I'd crack my whip and just like that!
Lions and tigers at my command
Clowns and elephants under my hand
The big lights beaming out of the stand
And the big crowd screaming.
I'd like to be the daring girl
Who rides the high trapeze.
I'd swing from my toes, I'd hang from my knees
In my glorious sparkles like stars in the breeze
The big light shining so everyone sees
Me up there gleaming.

I chose this poem because of the very
complex rhyme scheme. Intellectually the author
of this poem has a high I.Q. Never have I seen a
poem show more thought. I want to be a
firefighter now. Wow, what a intelligent poem!

Lovely Night Rain
There is a sound outside…
A sound so booming!
Lightning strikes as the dark skies are glooming.
There is a sound outside…
My windows light up in rhythm with the storming!
Wait…It’s not storming…
There is meteors coming down!
Everyone is dead!
What the…?
AHHHHHHHHHH…

INKED FINGERTIPS-MICHAEL FALOTICO
I cling to reveries of youth, the tender
Sentiment of plucking words from summers' root,
That in my journal hours when the red skies
Are aglow, the phrases extend long as
Straw. I burn language the way one does in
A flamed trance swerving in pure daze beneath
New moon, a blur of penciled happenstance
Flapping like a winged feather that on the
River of late afternoons, I would still
Scribble in a hay, where syllables grow
on racy tunes. And I then could not help
Myself but drown my hands in raw and humid
lines, bury my eyes deep in verses’ fanned.
I'm loathe to leave my untamed story as
Twilight fades; letters drip and clouds see
blown paper sailing like inked fingertips.

This poem stood out to me because the author
has a very unique flow with his words. This
poem really makes you think. Sure, comedic
poems are good, but only with a healthy dose of
seriousness in between. This is one of my
favorite poems on this slide show. The author has
my respect.

Youth-James WrightStrange bird,
His song remains secret.
He worked too hard to read books.
He never heard how Sherwood Anderson
Got out of it, and fled to Chicago, furious to free himself
From his hatred of factories.
My father toiled fifty years
At Hazel-Atlas Glass,
Caught among girders that smash the kneecaps
Of dumb honyaks.
Did he shudder with hatred in the cold shadow of grease?
Maybe. But my brother and I do know
He came home as quiet as the evening.
He will be getting dark, soon,
And loom through new snow.
I know his ghost will drift home
To the Ohio River, and sit down, alone,
Whittling a root.
He will say nothing.
The waters flow past, older, younger
Than he is, or I am.

I liked this poem due to the personification the
author gives the bird. There is a distinct
mysterious element to each verse. The meaning
of the poem is underlying. We are all young and
old in a sense. I got this poem’s message.

After Youth-Evelyn Scott
Oh, that mysterious singing sadness of youth! Exotic colors in the lamplit darkness of wet
streets, Musk and roses in the twilight, The moon in the park like a golden balloon ...
Then to awaken and find the shadows fled, The music gone ... Empty, bleak! My soul has
grown very small and shriveled in my body. It no longer looks out. It rattles around, And
inside my body it begins to look, Staring all around inside my body, Like a crab in a
crevice, Staring with bulging eyes At the strange place in which it finds itself

I enjoyed this poem because the wording was
nice and it had a good mood. The tone the author
set is quite serene. She converses about youth in
a positive and negative way. This is my 3rd
favorite poem in this slide-show. It’s simple yet
hits the point dead on.

Dylan james Youth Project

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