At the City Park - Group composed poem

Duck poop everywhere
     like little squishy brown weeds taking over.
Church people playing volleyball
     screaming like they're about to die.
People who have been drinking too much
     squabbling like pigeons fighting for bread.
Teenagers jumping off the bridge
     like Olympic high-divers going for gold.
People having barbeques laughing
     while the people who forgot their food
     are looking at them - staring like stray dogs.

Ode to Water

Water has a feeling I can't quite explain,

It comes from the clouds and transforms into rain,

Rain hits the ground and simply has a mind of its own,

If it hits a flat surface there's no telling where it roams

As it travels to a source of water waiting on earth,

A lake or a stream sitting patiently on dirt.

For its new family and friends that fall from the sky,

Who are born so high you can't see with a naked eye.

What's sad is water cannot move upstream,

It can't fight the current, you know what I mean?

But really water doesn't have a mind of its own,

It's controlled by gravity unless swept up by a storm.

Water's an element whose enemy is fire,

They battle day and night though no victory's acquired.

Just think of the forest fires that are burning up black,

Water is dropped from the sky from a very large sack.

The fires have weak spots, great waves from the air,

Dropped from flying machines inflicting elemental warfare.

When water gets frozen it becomes very hard,

The sun reflects off ice crystals and looks like small stars.

But the most spectacular thing is unfair,

Because we can't see the water vaporize into air.

What's cool is it returns to the place of its birth,

And forms once again, falling back to earth.

by: C.G.