Poetry Corner: Dom Phillips

Today we celebrate TMS Freshman and poet Dom Phillips. Dom recently composed two powerful poems for two different classes.

The first is a poem (and the English translation) written for Gustavo Jimenez' Spanish class.

Me llamo Frida Kahlo Estoy definida por un terrible accidente. Un viaje en un autobús y un empalamiento. Hace tres meses que me quedó confinada en la cama. Salvada por mi vida interior creativa. Flores de color turquesa, rosa, amarilla y anaranjada. Monos marrones inteligentes y pájaros exóticos. Una bomba atado con lazos rojos sedosos. Cruces soportado por los niños pequeños. Soy horrible y deforme. Estoy vestida en terciopelo y blanco Estoy alejándome del tiempo. Mi brillante esposo me merece. Él es un sapo talento. Cruzamos puentes para la casa azul en Coyoacán. Trotsky, Rusia y comunistas ideales desplazan mis sueños. Hasta que yo soy un girasol marchito.

My Name is Frida Kahlo I am defined by a terrible accident. A bus ride and impalement. For three months I lay confined to a bed. Saved by my creative inner life. Flowers of turquoise, pink, yellow and orange. Clever brown monkeys and exotic birds. A bomb tied up with silky, red ribbons Crosses borne by small children. I am hideous and deformed. I am clothed in velvet and white. I am running away from time. My brilliant husband deserves me. He is a talented toad. We cross bridges to the blue house in Coyoacán. Trotsky, Russia and communist ideals crowd my dreams. Until I am a withered sunflower.

Dom wrote this second poem for Phil van Eyck's English 1 class:

Searching for Salvation

I am a gray, knowing, wrinkled elephant searching for the bleached bones of my ancestors to mourn.

I am an apple that satisfies with its crisp juicy crimson skin.

I am a toiling beast of burden, broad-backed and strong.

I am the Dalai Lama praying in a verdant bamboo forest.

I am an eager traveler speeding over the international dateline.

I am a wise old owl, large eyes and soft wings beating with a whisper.

I am the creeping mist, gentle rain and gossamer clouds.

A hopeful, desperate, ragged orphan whose kindly, sweet parents are being tossed about in an incessant wind.

Featured Posts
Recent Posts

Search By Tags

Archive

Follow Us
  • Facebook Round
  • Twitter Round
  • YouTube Round

© 2019, The Marin School   | 150 N. San Pedro Road, San Rafael, CA 94903 | 415-339-9336 | Small School, Big Impact!