Poetry on the Pillars

Dust off an Antique Poem

To start off national poetry month, we want your antique poetry.  This may be any poetry that you have already written and consequently stuffed into a drawer either embarrassed that somebody might ever find it, or simply uncertain what to do with it.  Those poems are a piece of Round Rock heritage, and those are the first that we would like to include in our compilation.  Antique poems do not need to be any specific style or subject, they need only be aged. 

No antique poetry left unburned?  Well fear not! Simply write one now, leave it in a desk drawer overnight and submit it the next day.  It should have a thin layer of dust by that time.  Submit your antique poems as comments to this blog or on the library's main page, or simply e-mail them  to [email protected]

Submission: Please title your entries Antique Poem : (Title of the Poem) 

(Please remember we are asking for original poetry only. By submitting work for this project you attest that you are the original creator and owner of the intellectual property. Further, by submitting entries you license the Round Rock Library to include those entries into its published compilation, sales of which will benefit the Friends of the Round Rock Public Library. We thank you for sharing your creativity.)


Eric Towler said:

It's pretty dusty as this poem was written in the third grade, but here it is.


Antique Poem: The Late Show
by Eric Towler (Circa 1988)

I watched a scary movie
on the late, late, late, late show.
It was about an ugly swamp monster
with a green fluorescent glow.
He gobbled everything in sight
as he wobbled through the bog.
And just when he was about to be caught,
he disappeared into the fog.

My mother said to hit the sack.
It was time to go bed.
But I could not get any rest
with the visions in my head.
I tossed and turned and rolled around.
I was as tired as can be.
The next day I could have been the star.
I looked like a ZOMBIE!


# April 1, 2011 6:51 PM

David Sharp said:

Lost in a hurricanes wake,
Pity the woman who could not make,
It out of the storms crushing blows.
If she made it out alive no one knows.
The rain cleaned her of her sins,
But drowned her still in game no one wins.
Yet, no one even takes the chance to save,
the woman reaching above the wave.
No no one took a second glance,
To see the woman surviving her own mischance.

-Deliah Flores

# April 8, 2011 9:59 AM

Eric Towler said:

A Friend
by Allison Turner (Age 11)

A friend is like a sun on a gloomy day.  A friend is like an umbrella in the rain.
A friend is someone who cares for you.  A friend is a special person.


I know mine is.


A friend is water in the desert.   A friend is always there for you.
A friend is shelter from the storm.  A friend is a rose in the middle of thorns.


I know my friend is.


A friend is the light at the end of a dark tunnel.  A friend makes you happy when you are sad.


I know my friend does.


A friend is a jewel!  A friend is wonderful!  A friend is everything!  A friend is special!


My friend is the best of the best.


A friend is the best it can get.  A friend is a special need in life.


I know because mine is.

# April 12, 2011 3:17 PM

David Sharp said:

Our War

(submitted by Diana Lewis)

Merely human not by choice,

Hearing arrogant sounds of my own voice

Holding to vengeance like a mighty sword,

Ready to cut down the evil Horde

Battles waged with monstrous demons,

Only to be lost in every passing season

Bring forth this day a massacre,

So pain and suffering may occur.

Bare my soul the restitution of many mortals’ constitutions.

And as my sword will pierce their ***,

My heart will sing merrily in my chest.

# April 14, 2011 11:52 AM

David Sharp said:

Submitted by Ken Wood

(I wrote this shortly after a quadruple bypass surgery.)

I'll Think Of You

Someday, when my eyes close in Death,
Even as I take my Final Breath,
I'll think of You.

I can't foretell if You'll be there,
But this I'll say because I care,
I'll think of You.

If You are gone before I go
You'll wait for me, 'cause You will know
I'll think of You.

But if You should be left behind,
The last thought in my weary mind,
I'll think of You.

Our many years now seem so few,
But as they passed, I hope You knew
I'll think of You.

Then, when upon that distant shore
We're reunited like before,
I'll think of You.

And should we both be born again
We'll love as now, and until then,
I'll think of You.

# April 14, 2011 11:59 AM

David Sharp said:


by Cristy J. Crowder


Teta is silver,

Silver for every season of my life:

The silver lining on the clouds after a storm in spring, lips like light

Kissing my cheeks as glistening raindrops had done earlier…

The silver of jewelry on her neck and hands, gentle hands

Holding mine in the sweltering summer, cooling my stress.

The silver of her shiny laugh—jingling coins in a pocket—

Bringing me to my knees like leaves off an autumn tree…

The silver of a million scintillating stars, her twinkling eyes

Brightening my face on a crisp winter night…

Those eyes that show the silver of her knowing;

Her loving caress and gaze, an ever-faithful moon

Bringing me to her voice again and again

To listen to the wisdom of her silver,

Silver that never needs polishing,

Silver words, cherished words.


# April 14, 2011 1:55 PM

Yuki said:

Early morning, alarm clock rings

Get ready for another school filled day

Arrive at school

Classes start

Now mid-day, then it starts

Mean names

Pushed to floor

Body hurts

Please no more!

Teachers turn their back and ignore

Another push

Another shove

A slap

A kick

A cry for no more

Tear filled eyes

Blood on floor

Their laughter in return

Pleading eyes ask for help

Teacher, Parent, fellow student

Their turned backs are my answer

My cries

The pain

It's torcher

Two years later

Pain still the same

My endless nightmare comes again

Now adults want to help

After years of pain

They start to notice

Innocent eyes

Now dead




Words they said

Pain that never ends

# April 14, 2011 5:15 PM

David Sharp said:


by Carolyn Johnson

Tell me a story of long ago

Help me remember how it goes

Tell me your story of love and loss

Or even about how much something cost

Always, it matters to me

Tell me your story so I'll see

Tell me about way back when

And how hard it really was back then

Tell me the story of what all you've done

Sometimes, I think about how we had fun

Raising the children, calling their names,

Watching them play all those silly games

It's been so long that you've been gone

But inside my memory, it's not that long

Even though you're gone, you're right by side

When I tell your stories, you're still alive

P.S. I wrote this as a song, in memory of my Grandmother Lois.

# May 25, 2011 1:05 PM
If you would like to comment, you need to join Community Conversations