Express it in Poetry

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How NT Females Come Acrossed To Me

Like oh my god
Like a yeah
Like totally
Like I went shopping Today?
Like why are you looking at me that way?
It's almost like you're like British or something.
I don't like it when you look at me that way?
I've figured out the Water Thingy.
You like a gave me that look, again!
Like a get with the a Programme.
This is like Canada?

I'll tell you what I think
The old Canada is dead
It really confuses me
When you speak to me
Like that
We are under the Crown
We should speak like Ladies
Instead of like young Popstars
Who are bringing home their Babies

tame by request
down in flames nonetheless
kryptonite, a lot of stress

confusion
dark mind, dark thoughts
the mantra
no danger to self,
no danger to others
(i'm not crazy or anything)

and no way but to walk
keep walking, wade through.
its water its muck
its dark and dank
(but its my life and its now or never)

head down can't see
the end of the tunnel
invisible to me
only hope is driving me
(i will survive).

Voting Day

I must Vote for Canada
I need to Honour the Maple Leaf
I must cherish my Right
To make my Voice heard
I didn't Vote at 18
Due to Others' selfish reasons
I must Vote for Canada
Though my Mind is stuck in London
I'm not the Reddest Maple Leaf
That I can admit to
There's a giant Maple Leaf
That goes by the name of Canada
This little, Black London Taxi
Will zoom to the School
And she will cast her Ballot
And make herself feel proud
That her voice will be heard
A Voice that wasn't heard
In the October of
The Year of 1993
When she was Eighteen
Going on Nineteen
This Black London Taxi
Will make the gaint
Red Maple Leaf
That is known as Canada
A much Brighter Shade of Red
Just by making her Voice heard

I'm still working on my verse...
got a long way to go before I match you guys.
Meanwhile, to say it for me, here's

Lawrence Ferlinghetti

Constantly risking absurdity


Constantly risking absurdity
and death
whenever he performs
above the heads
of his audience
the poet like an acrobat
climbs on rime
to a high wire of his own making
and balancing on eyebeams
above a sea of faces
paces his way
to the other side of the day
performing entrachats
and sleight-of-foot tricks
and other high theatrics
and all without mistaking
any thing
for what it may not be
For he's the super realist
who must perforce perceive
taut truth
before the taking of each stance or step
in his supposed advance
toward that still higher perch
where Beauty stands and waits
with gravity
to start her death-defying leap
And he
a little charleychaplin man
who may or may not catch
her fair eternal form
spreadeagled in the empty air
of existence

Pieces
I walk to school
Stop in front of the door
Take a deep breath
Walk in my mask in place
Now all the see
Is the book addict
Who cares not what Others think
The confident secure
Young woman I want to be
I'm afraid to show
The insucure little girl
I really am
I can't let them see
Every taunt every tease
tears into me
I can't let them know '
I'm afraid one day
They'll tear away
The few Pieces
I've got left

Just I poem I wrote awhile ago.