Hip hop piece(I think.....)- Gravity

-I apologize if this sucks :/ I only write rock music

Keeps pulling me down

Every time I go insane

Keeps pulling me down

It's Gravity

I wanna jump up and touch the sky

Shake hands with God himself

High five an angel

But Gravity keeps on pulling me back down

I wish I could get away from here

All the pain

All the sorrow

But when I run away, Gravity pulls me back

I wanna go

Go somewhere with no Gravity

Maybe then

Just maybe

I will touch the sky

Written by the one and only Dakota "The Tank" Harkess

Repetition poem

Why

Why give

Why give up

Why we give up

Is why we give up

This is why we give up

This is why we don't give up

This is why we don't give up and

This is why we don't give up and never

This is why we don't give up and never give

This is why we don't give up and never give in

This is why we don't give up and never give in to

This is why we don't give up and never give in to those

This is why we don't give up and never give in to those who

This is why we don't give up and never give in to those who stand

This is why we don't give up and never give in to those who stand against

This is why we don't give up and never give in to those who stand against us

That this is why we don't give up and never give in to those who stand against us

Decisions, that is why we don't give up and never give in to those who stand against us

My decisions, that is why we don't give up and never give in to those who stand against us

Of my decisions, that is why we don't give up and never give in to those who stand against us

Because of my decisions, that is why we don't give up and never give in to those who stand against us

-End

Written by the one and only Dakota 'The Tank' Harkess

Venting poem

What the hell is wrong with you?
You hypocrites.
When I leave the chip bag open you hate it
But then turn around and do the same thing!
Are you a friken idiot?
I can't stand you guys
You claim to hate bullies,
But you go and harass the new kid every single day
You hate when peanut butter goes in the jelly jar
But then you use the same knife without hesitation to make your PB&J
Said my friend to me
-End
Written by the one and only Dakota 'The Tank' Harkess

Dead Poet Society Paper(Rough Draft)

How does Dead Poets Society reflect ideas presented in our poetry class so far this semester?
One way that Dead Poets Society can be reflected upon our poetry class so far this semester is when we talk about DYT/DET(Do your thing and Don’t Even Trip). How so? Neil applied this into his life when he decided to go into a life of acting. He wanted to do what he wanted and not what his father had planned for him(DYT), and even when his father told him not to do it, he didn’t give up and did it anyway(DET). But unfortunately, Neil’s dad didn’t see Neil’s point of view until he killed himself because of all the constriction that his father put on him(sort of like my poem I wrote- “Constriction”).  DYT can also be put into Mr. Keating’s life and his way of teaching at this very traditional private school. Mr. Keating saw the world from a different way than all the other teachers did, and that is why I admire this character so much. He may have ended up getting fired in the end, but it was probably worth it in his eyes. Another way that Dead Poets Society can be applied to our poetry class so far is the poem we wrote: “The Art of” Poems. These can relate to DPS because in most of the boys, it can be applied. For Neil, The Art of Acting, for Knox, The Art of Love, Todd- The Art of Speaking up, Cameron- The Art of being a Jerk(end of the movie). Even Mr. Keating can apply to this, he has the art of “Standing on his desk to remind himself that we must always look at the world from a different view.”

Our class is always encouraged to do what we want with our poetry and don’t be afraid to speak up, much like Dead Poets Society.

Free write: Two Face(fiction)

I was a man of one personality, I fought crime without wearing a suit. I remember being tied up, gasoline barrels all around me, rigged to explode. I heard the love of my life, crying for her life blocks away. I saw the floor, gasoline covered half of my face. I worried for my girlfriend, and what would be her fate...even though she had already told me her situation. I saw a grave, with my name on it, I was going to die. But I changed. I am a Two Faced criminal, wearing a half burnt suit, the fate of my victims is simple....50/50. I think the world is not about what's right, it's about what's fair. I need to judge the world, some must be killed, and some will be spared. I try to judge them all, but alas, I can't. I feel anger, for what happened all those years ago, in the building, the explosion, the accident. I forgive that damn clown, who made me who. The Joker. Now I can change. I will kill the Batman, even if I kill myself in the process. I choose to be myself, to give them a chance. The chance I had...50/50. I dream of the day, when I pull the trigger when my barrel is pointed at the Batman. I hope that I will finish off all that stand in my way. I predict myself, head villain of Gotham, I control the streets. I know I will be who I am today, the Two Faced man who changed his ways after the accident all those years ago. I will change. I am Two Face.

Written by the one and only Dakota "The Tank" Harkess

Visual Poem

“No one was ever named ‘Hero’ for following the crowd, Heroes set their own course”
-Jonathan L. Huie

Your life is like a hero, strong and unafraid
Like Batman beating up crooks
Like Spider Man swinging through New York City
A man willing to take the heat for something evil
Just like Jesus died on the cross for us
You sacrifice your life for those you love
Maybe not how he did
But you get my meaning
You didn’t follow the others
You set your own goal, set your own course
And now you save lives, one at a time.
Beating up crime, two dozen at a time.
You're like that, like a hero

Free Write Poem- Constriction

Your over-protection irritates me to no end
Peeping over everything that I do
Jumping to conclusions all the time
It's constricting for me
I'm not a little kid anymore
I'm a young adult
I have common sense, I'm not a pothead
And I would never be
But if I do rebel
It's your fault
I'm tired of your fifty million rules
Tired of everything that I do being in secret
If only you could look back
And remember the times when you were me
Young and rebellious
Stop with the rules
Let me go
I'm not a little kid anymore
Don't put any other constrictions on me
You may not be happy that you did.
-End
 -Written by the one and only Dakota "The Tank" Harkess

Free write

Why don't you care about what I wan't? It irritates me to no end, the amount of protection that you put on me. You don't trust me whatsoever, and you don't let me make my own decisions, and when I do make them myself, you get mad and ground me. I'm not a little kid anymore, I'm a young adult now, you can trust me not to make any decisions that will mess up my life, I walk with God, and I don't do stupid things. I'm better than all of the people who do drugs. I know you want me to be safe, but the fact is...I can take care of myself, I don't need you looking over my shoulder all of the time. I might be defiant and rebellious sometimes, but it's YOUR FAULT.  With the amount of constriction that you put on me, I take every chance that I can to be free from that. Wouldn't you? You were my age once, and I guarantee you that even if you don't want to admit it, you did the same thing when you were my age. You can't contain me, I am me, and nothing can change that, even if you want me to be what you want me to be.
If you tell me not to date.
I will.

If you restrict my media time..
I'll make sure to go over it.

It's your fault that I'm rebellious, your constriction forces it.
I hope you realize that before you do anything to restrict me more..
You may not be happy that you did.
How long until you realize it..
Until you realize that I don't wanna follow your rules
I hope it's soon
-End
 -Written by the one and only Dakota "The Tank" Harkess

Narrative Poems

1) A grey room

Nothing but shadows: with an evil figure, I hear the voices in my head, telling me to escape...but I don’t know how. The sounds of cold winds fill the room. I can’t even tell what time of day it is, the cold makes me think it’s nighttime, but I can’t be sure. It smells metallic, like blood. The shadow reveals itself, an unknown man is it’s result. His hooded face only reveals glowing, yellow eyes. He pops his knuckles as he draws closer to me. Then I realize, I’ve been here before, and I’ve spilled blood on the floor of the grey, grey room.


2) Paris in Flames

All I see are yellow eyes, I hear the screams of the damned, Zombies. They surround me, I can see them everywhere. The sky’s so full of smoke that I can’t even see the sun. My body is full of fear. All I can smell is the clouds of smoke. The Zombies surround me, but wait, he’s back, the hooded figure from the grey room. He pulls out his rifle and throws me another one and says four words: “Fight to the death” I’m in Paris and it’s in flames, smoke fills the skies, and the damned surround us.

-Written by the one and only Dakota "The Tank" Harkess

Color Poem- Under the sun's Hue/Carry On

Under the Sun's Hue(Carry On)

Written By Dakota Harkess

The warm orange fire, the sun's dawn hue.

As I roast mellows, I wonder what I will do with my life.

I am so young, my sea blue eyes, my dirty blonde hair.

It won't last forever.

Just like the tallest green spruce, I will fade.

But for now, I am nothing but a small seed, waiting for my chance to grow.

To find happiness, and do what I enjoy, to draw, to sing, to love.

All these thoughts, under the sun's dawn hue.

No longer does the fire burn, but my soul does, I stand up and walk.

My bare feet touch the green, fresh grass. I don't know what will come, but I'll be ready.

I will carry on.

Awesomely Bad Poem- Dread

Why did you hurt me?
Break my heart and desert me?
You left me to die....
With no reason why....

Thy knife buried deep in my chest....
Stab me in the back, leave me to rest..
In a painful tomb, full of dread...
Leaving me to hear the voices in my head...

Oh how I wait for the day...
When I see you on the floor..
Your heart not beating anymore..
Oh that day of bittersweet revenge..

My soul set free..
The day I see....
You blood, looking so metallic..
Its smell will make me go fanatic..

That will be the day..
When I leave you to die..
With no reason why..
-Written by the one and only Dakota "The Tank" Harkess

Reclaiming your inner poet

• What your inner poet looks like…Fiery, aggressive. But can be calmed
• What your inner poet feels like…A monster waiting to be tamed
• Where your inner poet was born…The day I wrote my first story
• What your inner poet sees…The good, the bad, and the in between
• Where your inner poet is recognized…When he is unleashed
• What your inner poet knows…How to make a reader on the edge of their seat
• What your inner poet imagines…Everything that people claim impossible
• Where your inner poet lives…Inside of me hid under lock and key
• What your inner poet must speak…When provoked, or when inspired
• Why your inner poet exists…Whenever he feels like it