A collection of poetry I've written.
Some of theese were from highschool projects, others were written just for fun or as a way to let my emotions out. Either way, a majority of theese will be freeverse. However, I am also a sucker for Sonnets. All of theese poems were written by me, some using a template in class, but all written by me nonetheless.
Do not claim my poetry as your own, or feed it into AI
otherwise, I hope you enjoy! They are organized in order of the newest poems to the oldest, with the newest ones appearing at the top.

The Teapot

A sonnet, 2026

The teapot boils mute on the stove
Two kettles beside, begging for limelight
Bubbling, boiling, a noise treasure trove
Yet the pot wont whistle, not even a slight

It was the first pot to be filled, set aboil
Satchel added, sweet, floral, berry
But with two pots, three, the first starts to spoil
It bitters, it burns, no longer merry

Two decades spent steeping under the bar
Praised by the tea maker, for the calm brew
While the pot wonders how it got this far
With no one spotting mould starting to stew

Now rotted, the maker praises the kettle
Blaming the pot for its spoiled fettle

- m.s

The Kings Tale

Freeverse, a poem about Zeus from Greek Mythology, 2025

The Sixth borne,
Another rock for his father's stomach,
A child eaten, to prevent a prophecy

…Yet, Zeus was somewhere greener than stomach acid.
Stowed away on a lush island
With maidens to care for him,
To nurse him with milk and honey,
Teach him how to fend for himself,
A life more spoiled than the ones his siblings had so far

And once he had his strength…
The war started.
Zeus a mere god,
Stood up to his tyrant of a titan father
Sliced through his abdomen, his stomach,
Freed the five older, bigger, siblings of his

He won the war,
Declared the king of God's, of everything,
Just as the prophecy foretold,
Minced his old man up and chucked him into the deepest depths
A cold place in the underworld, away from the throne,
The sky of Mount Olympus.

Him and his six siblings,
Safe and together at last,
Gathered lots to draw,
Over bickering that still hasn't passed
The youngest brother was the luckiest,
Won the sky as his own, earth too,
Leaving his two unfortunate brothers,
Wet and in the dirt
While Zeus was spoiled with fine maidens once again

- m.s

The Horse God.

An acrostic poem, written about Posideon from Greek Mythology, 2025

Peering out to where the sea and earth meet,
Overseeing the oceans,
Ships sailing on just the surface, unaware of what lies deeper
Even with the constant changing waters,
It’s almost cute how unassuming these mortals are
Deeper down, just out of their vision
One God, lurking in the depths, more of a threat than any shark or orca
Neptune, the ruler of the coast, horses, the life in the water you see, the horrors you don't

- m.s

The Sea’s Pearl

Three stanza's, ABAB rhyme scheme, poem about Aphrodite from Greek Mythology, 2025

Along the glistening green blue expanse
Mixed in with the fluffy foam along the shoreline
A pearl was birthed here, and whoever takes a glance
Is left in awe of her beauty, mingled in with the sea’s brine

Wind tossed hair, long and flowing down her spine
To the smooth expanse of skin, her hips, breast and thighs
To her beauty they created many a shrine
Offering after offering given, hoping to see her grace with their eyes

Men and maidens alike, they kneel before her splendor
Spread their love to the foam where she was born
Praying for a love oh so tender
Or to feel her rosebud with their prick-ly thorns

- m.s

The Wind Blows

A Haiku poem about the Anemoi, aka the four personafied winds in Greek Mythology, 2025

North, East, West, and South
Whirlwind of Gods, Steering helms
Safe to shore, or doom

- m.s

The Sun and The God

A sonnet, written about Apollo from Greek Mythology, 2025

The sun was beautiful. Golden. Perfect.
Flying through the sky each day. East to West
But He was not the sun. Not their subject.
He was Apollo, one with the crow's nest.

Sure, he was like the sun. Glowed nice and bright.
Yet, The Prophet preferred to pluck his strings
Caring not for the titan of earth's light.
Was not Helios, had no need for bling

For the scorching, flaming, gold chariot
To hog the whole skies attention all day
Just to vanish when the moon shows; Go quiet
“Yet mortals mistake me for you? No way.

As I am Apollo, God of the Sun,
Musician, poet, known by everyone.”

- m.s

My Muse

Freeverse poem, about the nine muses from greek mythology, 2025

There are Nine pretty maidens, for you to choose
But oh, which one would be the best for you?
Praising the divine with poetry was Polyhymnia, humming her hymns under her breath.
The longer tales were controlled by Calliope, catching the heroes in all their epic glory.
Thalia giggles and snorts, a grin glued to her as she jests,
Yet Melpomene mourns and weeps for her lost love.
Looking up was Urania, standing under the starry abyss she engrained to parchment.
Clio sorts a table cluttered with scrolls, and dusty books, to remember.
Fluttering and flickering her breath for the flute against her lips is Euterpe,
Keeping the choir together was Erato, her voice ethereal,
While Terpsichore twirls and taps her toes to their tunes.
So now that you understand what they all do,
It's time to decide which lady is the one for you.

- m.s

Messages and Play

Freeverse poem, based off of Hermes from greek mythology, 2025 

Winged sandals hit the dirt for merely a second–
Thump 
	Thump
		Thump 
Buzzing here and there
Delivering scrolls and envelopes and boxes
The Messenger God keeps his wit.
		Thump 
			Thump
				Thump….
One for this mortal, one for that…
His pace kept steady– 
speedy under the scorching sun.
                 Thump
                    Thump
                      Thump…
A slew of scrolls for him
A box for her
A parcel for him
A “borrowed” blossom for the pretty maiden 
he caught a glimpse of along the way
                      Thump
                Thump
          Thump…
 A herd of cattle caught
As he runs from A to B to C…
A herd of cattle catastrophically led off course
With only a trickster humming as the sun’s melody fades out
		Thump
	Thump
Thump…
Slick steps make his way back up the thunderous mountain
Back up to the divine throne
Tells his boss, his father hes done
And before Zeus sends another letter his way
His winged sandals hit the marble ground and he’s off for the day

- m.s

A Grape Gods Festival

A freeverse poem, inspired by Dionysus from greek mythology, 2025

Liquid flows,
From his jar to their glass.
Pouring and pumping
the women around him full,
Of his blessed wine.
Getting them tipsy
Head dizzy,
Heart fuzzy,
And senses numbed.
He brings the glass
Upon his own lip
contents going right to his head
Eyes glimmering
As the women around him
Spin and spin.
Celebrating his blessings,
His presence,
He keeps the wine flowing
Unending…
Lets them drink more and more,
Until the women topple over themselves,
In fleeting,
Giddy fits of laughter.
Robes shedding,
In heaps on the grass.
Entwining with each other.
As vines do,
Or sprawling over in a lustful ditzy,
Over The Wine God,
As his grapes supply them,
With all the wine they could pray for.

- m.s

Late Nights

A paint chip poem, written about the color blackout, 2025

Blackout is the color of sleepless nights
I remember staying up past the late hours
And how it felt like I was in my own world where time stopped
I can still hear my quiet giggles echoing off the walls
Can see the lightless sky outside my window
Can feel my heart pounding, sheets soft beneath me,
Legs kicking as I try to hold a plushie to my chest
Eyes glued and straining against the dimm light shining from my phone
I miss those late nights spent texting him
Blackout is the color of barely being able to wake up the next morning.

- m.s

Romance, Reversed.

A reversal poem, 2025

I am undeserving of love.
And I refuse to believe that someone is in love with me
I realize this may be a shock, but sweet words, touches, and “I love you’s”
Is a lie, and romance will only end with pain and loss
In 30 years I will tell my children that
I have my priorities straight because lonliness
Is more important than affection
I tell you this:
Once upon a time, a girl got to be with her first love
But this will not be true in my era, as heartbreak is all crushes bring
Experts tell me how all gifts given to me are only out of obligation
I do not conclude that he is enamoured with me
In the future our roses will wilt
No longer can it be said that new blossoms of our love will bloom
It will be evident that I will always be alone
It is foolish to presume that someone will love the real me.

And all of this will come true unless we reverse it.

As, Someone will love the real me
It is foolish to presume that I will always be alone
It is evident that new blossoms of love will bloom
No longer can it be said that our roses will wilt
In the future, he is enamoured with me
I do not conclude that all gifts given to me are only out of obligation
Experts tell me Heartbreak is all crushes bring
But this will not be true in my era.
A girl got to be with her first love once upon a time.
I tell you this:
Affection is more important than loneliness.
I have my priorities straight because in 30 years,
I will tell my children that romance only ends in pain and loss is a lie,
Sweet words, touches, and “I love you’s” aren’t.
I realize this may be a shock, but someone is in love with me
And I refuse to believe that I am undeserving of love.

- m.s

The Cutscene…

A freeverse poem, written using a 3ds as an extended metaphor, 2025

A.
Click.
A. Click. Click.
A. click.
A.
Click Click.
 The button clicks rapidly
My thumb tingling as I mash
"I read fast",
I lie,
Eyes skimming over the white text box
Black words blurring into nothing
Because who listens to me?
Or what I say
Or what I do?
My plot points get lost
In the haze
The eagerness of people trying to complete the game.
Of those too uncaring of the story.
It was fun as a DS.
One dimensional.
Blue. Childish.
Playing kids games,
saving voice notes screaming and singing and taking photos of myself.
But the 3ds is too much.
Too many dimensions.
A slider to make the screen blurry
To hurt the eyes of those staring at me
I’ve changed.
Voice notes and photos changed into game guides and nothingness
And I’ve read it all. Every line. Every word.
Talking to the meaningless npc’s in a game everyone completed years ago.
Wishing it was as easy to talk to strangers in real life.
Wondering if anyone would bother
To read the games plot
Listen to what I have to say
Care more about just getting to the end goal or the next battle
If someone would just… Take a second.
And just read text with me.

- m.s

Nolstalgia

Freeverse, 2025

What is nostalgia?
Nostalgia is sitting on an old couch.
Next to an old lazy boy
Littered with burnt marks
The memory is hazy
I can’t see much through the puffs of smoke
The old memories of nights with my Nana,
My grandma…

I miss that shade of blue.
The one of an inhaler.
The hacking
The shaking of the inhaler
The breathing in

I miss late nights
Or at least they felt late to me
Watching chopped
Food network
Giggling at the cooking
Even if I cant remember what was funny

I miss having that liquorice ice cream on my tongue
Or the buttery scones with a recipe now lost to time

I miss my grandma, too.
That I never truly had a chance to say goodbye.
But maybe that yearning is just nostalgia talking.

- m.s

Frozen In Time

A freeverse poem, that I wrote inspired by the book The Night Circus By Eren Morgenstern, revolving around the two main characters, Celia and Marco. Written 2025.

Steps are silent against the soft snow in the garden
Time.
She and him both yearned for years
For kisses that survived seconds longer
For moments together less fleeting after Celia takes her final bow
For the compassion of the circus to stay
For the warmth of the bonfire to not waver
Yet, the flame flickers
Time fleets and fades
And finally, the two stand alone
Under the candle lit tree
Lip to lip
Bonded by their two ring fingers
With all the time they could of wished for
So, here they stand.
In the frozen garden Marco carefully crafted for her
Their steps as quiet as the air around the two
As they finally have all the time in the world

- m.s

Ode to Modern Society

Freeverse, a project we did in my english class, 2024, after learning about how people wrote as a way to speak out against those in power. This one was written with rage in 40 minutes.

An ode to modern society
Yet what is there to praise
It gets a lot of Notoriety
For what? Well who's to say.

Because modern society has no faults
Not like the ones In past
Because every white man's equal here
"And the others?"
Well why would you even ask?

Everyone has had their fifteen minutes
A quick bath in the sun
From the LGBT
The Black and Asian communities
And those with disabilities


Yet more demanding they are
Then the average white man
Always whining about "rights rights rights"
But what about the left?

They're wanting for a choice
A chance to control themselves
But with how high they sparked the graph
And how much their populations demand,
Is it reasonable to put the babies
Over all the men that can stand?

Because who would want to listen
To those who throw a fit
Stomping and shouting down the street
About rights and love and peace
When we have the answer right out there

Above all of our heads

They hold the cash
They hold the power
They find every young girl they can to deflower
He's here to save us can't you see?
Were only husks- it's clear yes yes!
That the wealthy men be our gods

And like our savior,
People cried out the day capitalism was born
"Behold! Our new found society-
The ruler of our wallets,
The helper to the rich and--
Wait is there anyone else?"

The men they plan they plot
To put another raise on this here lot
That could've been used to house a home
Because what good is that?

No money no world as they say
As there is no better way
To help people get around
Than a truck that’s not structurally sound

Because who else needs structure
Except those that are above you
And every other lowly person
That can't afford to put food on the plate
Isn't that such an unfortunate fate?

Yet why would the men of low need with high supply
Even promptly bat an eye
To those that can't even get around?
Who are desperate for a ramp, or a home
Or a doctor or a bone
Or a safe place to breathe or steady temp
When they're sitting on a throne?

Because honestly who gives a fuck?
If 98.9% of the world is stuck
Because the 1.1% men have it better
And why would they want to let her
Have any rights? Or money at all,
When they can control it just fine.

So my ode to a modern society
That is very much a Notoriety
Is a hope a plea a beg for something better
As my eyes start to grow wetter
When I'm stuck in the rain waiting for a bus that's late
Or burning in the sun because I can't walk home
On a road that the government wants to get redone
Not bothering to care about our inconvenience
Or any of our less important grievance

Because modern society has no faults,
As every white man's equal here.

- m.s

Wound

freeverse, 2023

When you’re wounded,
You need to find the right bandage.

Look inside your first aid kit.
Ask whats needed, avoid whats not.

You can’t treat a cut by ignoring it.
You’ll bleed until nothings left.

But bandaging one small papercut is overkill.

So bandage up a cut.
Monitor until its healed.

Or forget about the tiny papercut,v Since sometimes its okay to forget.

No matter what though,
All wounds take time to heal.
Big or small.
So be patient, and let it heal.

- m.s

The Girl.

Freeverse, 2023

I love the girl.
The one who sits next to me.
Its silent.
Our soft touches contrast that, though.

I love the girl who lays next to me,
Looking oh so pretty.

I love the girl who’s happy
Moreso when she’s sad.

No matter what shape,
Size,
Or form she takes,
What she feels,
Or goes through,
I’ll always love that girl.

- m.s

Lettuce

Freeverse, 2023

She looks at the lettuce
Its wilting.
Browning.

She picks off the good leaves,
And throws the rest of the lettuce into the trash.

Wilty lettuce is no good.
Even if,
The whole head goes to waste.

I wonder if,
My father saw,
All my flaws,
The green insects on my skin,
The wilting of my leaves,
If he’d allow me to get tossed

Everything’s decompostable.
But whats wrong with
Barely wilting,
Slightly dirty,
Lettuce?

- m.s

Bubbles

Freeverse,with repetition, 2023

Bubbly bubbles
Emotions bubble up
How childish.
Bubbles pop
Keep them together
Fragile bubbles…
All my thoughts bubble
Stuff i dont think…
Bubble bubble
Bubble pop
Sticky, soapy, bubble
Once popped
Is hard to clean
But isn’t it soap?
Words bubble
Soapy words
Anything but clean
It’s gonna make me pop
Bubbly bubbles
bubbles

- m.s

Butter

Freeverse, 2023

Butter is butter
When soft, it’s easy to manipulate,
Shape it to what you want.
When hard, it’s stubborn to use,
But crumbles easily.
Melt it by giving it pressure.
Enough to hurt for 30 seconds
And now its soft.
No one likes hard butter,
But they always use soft butter
Which is fine.
Since butter is butter.

- m.s

Citrusy Orange Vs Crunchy Apple

Freeverse, 2023

You can’t compare apples to oranges.
Especially when oranges are on a different plate,
Being savored by a group of citrus lovers.

“I prefer apples,” you think,
But when was the last time you’ve touched an orange…?

When an orange rolls on the floor,
While an apple falls right into the palm of your hand,
How is one meant to compare?

See, while oranges are better than the lemon,
Which left that bitter, sour sting over each wound,
You can’t compare the apple to the orange.

The apples cruncy, semi sweet taste..
Vs
The citrus flavor the orange drowns in..

You can’t compare the two,
Afterall, I love them both.

…Although, apples are better.

- m.s