Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Persona Poem

Every day I wake up to people grabbing me,
 and throwing me very far,
kicking me,
and handing me off,
and being tackled over and over again,
I love my job though,
being thrown and ran with,
this is what I'll always be,
 a football.
Sorry but I couldn't get it downloaded.

Concrete Poem

Running and jumping,
hurdling and spinning,
breaking tackles and scoring touchdowns,
and tackling,
throwing and kicking,
field goals.
Sorry, I couldn't get the picture downloaded.

Sunday, December 14, 2014

Nebraska List Poem

                                                                             bright sky 
                                                                           sunny days
                                                                           flags flying
                                                                     let the balloons fly
                                                                      Go Big Red

Monday, December 8, 2014

Nebraska Poem about Football

The sea of red,
the boneyard,
it must be feared,
the 340 some consecutive sellouts,
the tension of the game,
the excitement of a touchdown, 
a player making a great play,
the game winner.
Nebraska Football

Free-verse Poem(Running Back)

Reading the defense,
I must find the hole right now,
and get to it before it closes,
if it isn't there, bounce it to the outside,
hurdle the linebacker,
and juke the oncoming safety,
creep to the sidelines,
sprint for a touchdown,
and pray nobody catches you.

Friday, December 5, 2014

Extended Metaphor

Happiness is Hunting

Happiness is Hunting,
being patient brings out the animals,
guns make the shot,
ammunition makes the gun,
Camo is for hunting,
Happiness is Hunting

"Found Poem" Credit to Elie Wiesel

American soldiers and different languages,
always be grateful to them,
their Commander-in-Cheifs abiding graditude,
 a new millennium,
a new legacy, or a vanishing century,
two world wars and countless civil wars,
break us apart.
A meaningless symphony, disarm it,
the ghettoes anguish,
while Hitler's dictatorship was abandoned.

Thursday, December 4, 2014

Weather Poem" Late Summer, Early Fall, Sunny and 75"

Its not hot
Its not cold
wind rustling, leaves falling
you smell the corn and dew of early morning,
and exhaust of combines and tractors
you see birds flying
deer grazing
Grass dying and corn crops being harvested
you hear the combines and tractors
and the birds chirping in the evening
By: Matthew Wilson

Name Poem

It means funny, hunter, sporty
It means the number 7
It is bright and cheerful
It is the time I shot my first deer
It is in memory of SGT Adam J Bosley
Who taught me honesty and bravery
When he gave his life for his country

My name is Matt

Acrostic Poem

left tackle
left guard