Repetition of Talking

Talking forever ahhhhhhhhh…
Mom!…will you please stop talking.
Talking happens with someone of interest, something important, something special, something with life, or anything you can’t deny.
Talking has changed our world forever after cavemen, and made us chatty, chatty humans that we are today, so yay!
We talk, we rock, we knock on the doors to talk, we conversate with the people we meet and know forever.
We know some of us talk too much, but the reason we talk so much…is we don’t care!!!!
Well sorry about that it wasn’t expected so this is the reason…I made this poem.

 

I Love Myself

Corey, Casey, Mary, they all smell like imposters when strangers try to pronounce my name.
But my name, Carey Beth, smells like Niagara Falls and an Irish farm.
My names tastes like homemade chocolate chip cookies warm, fuzzy and sweet.
My name sounds like a rushing wave of mystery and winter.
My name feels like a warm blanket wrapping around you and then dropping you in the deep, cold ocean.
My name looks turquoise and bright, shining with possibility.
I am a perfect day interrupted by a sloppy, eager, happy, awkward mess.
When I cry I am a raging hurricane
When I laugh I sound like a thunderstorm
I am the loudest person in the room
I like myself
I’m worth a lot
And you can’t tell me that I’m not
Because you can’t see inside of me

 

Where I am from

I am from soccer balls,
from soccer fields,
and video games

I am from the smell of shocking peppermint

I am from training,
from strength,
and from love

I am from pecan trees
and poinsettias

I am from Boston baseball
and from striking hazel eyes,
from Jacob and Gabby

I’m from crying in emotional movies
and waiting for the winning goal to be scored when Barcelona plays,

from “Never stop!” and “Strive for greatness!”

I’m from Hail Mary’s
and Glory Be’s

from the death of my grandfather

I am from the hallways
in the back of my house
where the pictures on the walls
desperately
want to be looked at.

They hold the haunting
memories
of what once was,
tomorrow.

 

Family

My family is like the ocean
My mom is the water, without her theres no ocean
My dads the sand hes soft to the touch and always the first thing you love
My sisters the shells they are easy to catch but sometimes hard to be found in one piece
My brothers the island far in the distance, because hes already off on his own
And im the waves lapping into my familys lives I can be big or small bit im always there.

Home

I am from brushes and rubber bands
from dark chocolate
and powder sugar

I am from the white house that sits upward

I am from playing games with my brother
from moving to a bigger house
and from the brown chair my mom reads in

I am from the pink flowers
and the butterflies

I am from the dinners on Wednesday
and brown eyes
from Noah and Mila

I am from the tamales on Christmas
and the beach in the summer

From I love you and good-bye

From Santa and the Easter Bunny

I am from mom with many dogs

from tacos and enchildas

from Killer the fluffball

I am from the top shelf in a little
book filled with my fantastic family

 

Family Metaphor

My family is a pencil pouch
My mom is the pouch, she holds us together with love
My sister is the colors, bright, silly and funny
My brother is the sharpener, always there when we need him
My dad is the pencil, always trying new things and always by my side
I’m the eraser, keeping positive thoughts and erasing the bad ones away