The Sirens of the Deep

This poem is based off of the sirens in the old Greek legends and stories. In the end, it brings up the question, “are there villains in our society? Or do we paint people to be the villains just so we can paint others as the heroes?”

The Sirens of the Deep

My grandpa once told me a tale of old,

Of men and women who swim and sweep,

down in the dark icy blue deep.

These creatures whose stories are told,

Etched in the lines of weak and willing bones.


These willing and weak people,

The kind and the forgiving,

turning their eyes from the darkness which is brewing,

Up to the stars in which they are shooting.


That’s not until their ankles bound,

Are pulled under, their voices drowned,

By humans that suffered less than them, sinking them

drowning them into their depths.


Are there villains in the world?

Or do we paint the villains we see?

Your villain is my hero, my hero is your villain,

So the sirens could be heroes in their very deep,

Or they could be the villains you do not want to seek.

Summer is Here!

The season of summer will be here next week! Woohoo! Here’s a little poem written by my sister to celebrate the arrival of summer.


a poem by: Ana Horvath

The season of school vacation and fun,
And the big and bright, big sun,
A time to relax and play,
Longer is the length of the day.
Walking on the beach,
Or eating a juicy peach,
Biking on a mountain trail,
Or aboard a cruise about to sail,
The grass and trees are beautiful and green,
When camping it’s a beautiful scene,
The thunder rumbles and the lightning crashes,
There are tennis matches and 100 meter dashes.
And even when the summer is gone,
It never stays away for long,
And even though the tan lines fade away,
The summer memories will always stay.

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How These Poems Got Lost

For English class we had to write these poetry books and I wrote mine about losing a book about poetry. One of the poems in this book is called how these poems got lost. If you want to see the rest of the book you can click here.

How These Poems Got Lost

I don’t know who ought to trust,

The lady on the beach is a lobster sunbathing,

Only if I must,

Or the man with a cap who’s eye was a telescope looking for nonsense

When I was looking away,

I really must say,

The accomplice of the man with the cap is very quite fast,

He snuck the book away like a robber with stolen money, running away

When I turned around I was sad to see

I lost these poems with no ease!

I looked high,

I looked low,

I guess I was too slow

Nearly I was not smart to know,

He had buried it into the sand!

The book was ruined,

The book wasn’t neat,

I was surely going to be cooked meat,

Meat fresh and ready to eat,

But I did not have time to weep,

The dots stained,

I threw the book away,

Into the ocean and off it went far, far, away,

The poems got lost because of me, you see

And this book still comes back to haunt me.