Imitation Poetry

Imitation poetry is a great way to build a creative writers confidence. An Imitation Poem, also known as a Mimic Poem, is when the creative writer adopts the style of an existing poem.

The poem, “A Primer” by Bob Hicok, is the poem students used as a guide  and a reference too, as they created their own work.

http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2008/05/19/a-primer


I remember home as the place I go

to be in St. Louis. The wicked city of America.

Cold, dark, empty, no one to comfort a broken sole.

So much hatred travel in this world alone.

These streets show no love, not even to our babies.

I lived in St. Louis  18 years, this shit is crazy.

The crushed bird is a representation of our black

hope and dignity. The state flower, old and lifeless which

sounds like crunchy Baked Kale.

Though it is merely cold and wet as young girl teary eyes.

In the truth of reality life is not a fairytale or a fictional story

that can change a women worries.

When I go black to St. Louis, walk through

Forest Park trying to clear my worried mind,

so life goes stress free – stress free – stress free

just mentally for me. I wave at the buddah

which we’re not getting along with an account

of jealousy and hurt that live in me.

I pass.

K. B


I remember Newark, New Jersey as the place I go

To be in New Jersey. The east side of America

feeding life into the ocean

From the city to the shore’s

we’re energy pours. I lived in New Jersey  7 years.

The sea bird is a shark. The state flower

the east which sound hood

thought it is merely cold and deep as hell

a Legion-er can use the word hell

In truth the east is not east or right

When I go back to Jersey I jet through Virginia

off the highway there’s a beach, so life

goes girl, girl, girl beach, girl, I wave at girl s

Which we’re not getting along with

On account of Titanic as I pass

Then Virginia goes girl , beach, girl

beach, goodbye girls. You never forget

how to be from Jersey when you’re from Jersey.

K. P


I remember St. Louis lovely as the place I go

to be in St. Louis. The eyes of America

it’s noise roaring through the night

art all around

with a strong mask. I lived in St. Louis

3 years. The St. Louis bird

is a broken heart. The state flower

the arch which sounds beautiful

though it is merely a cold and noise as art.

A seeker can use the word “art”

Can sincerely use the word “sincerely.”

In the truth, the St. Louis is not Saint or Louis

When I go back to St. Louis I run through the city

there is off of Grand in Tower Grove, so life

goes restaurants and businesses, I wave at the people

which we’re not getting along with.

C. W


I remember St. Louis wildly  as the place I go

to be in St. Louis, the throne rose bush of America

she’s beautiful but known for trouble

Dancing in the streets

because we want too. I lived in St. Louis

16 years. The state bird

is a breaking news the state flower

the famous Arch which sounds lame

though it was merely cold and hard as an Ice Berg

can sincerely use the word sincere

in truth the mid-west in not mid nor west

When I go back to St. Louis I drive through Chicago

goes how you been I wave at grandma

which we’re not getting along with

on account of court houses as I pass

friends, goodbye bro. You never forget

how to be from Saint Louis when you’re St. Louis

D. T


I remember Friendship, Mane as the place I go

To be in Friendship, Maine. The warm heart of America

pumping blood into my mind or

refilling my well in preparation for school

from moss to boulder. I lived in Friendship

only weeks at a time. This island’s bird is a beautiful eagle.

The state flower is a clover, white and purple which sounds like the

best place in the world

though it is cold and warm as love

An islander can use the word, “love”

can sincerely use the word “sincere.”

In the truth the island is not is or land

when I go back to friendship I skip through swells.

There is a lobster boat to the left, so life

goes buoy, buoy, buoy, buoy, I wave at

which were not getting alone with

on account of the barn as I pass.

Then Friendship goes buoy, buoy, buoy

gut, goodbye gut. You never forget how to be from Friendship when you’re from Friendship.

D. S


I remember St. Louis as the place I go

To be in St. Louis. The out stretching finger of America

burning it’s arm clear heady skin

with it’s ashes dusting the skyline

from north city to south lived in purgatory

16 years, The firey bird

is a gateway image that keeps us relevant

and Mike Brown which sounds silent through the media

though it is merely cold and depressing

as everything else

A St. Louisain – can use the N-Word, but only temporality

In truth St. Louis is not holy nor Gender-based.

When I go back to St. Louis I cruise

through the open fields

heading towards kings and his highway

Stays constant, constant, constantly gray.

I wave at the authorities

which were not getting along with

on account of there internal

fear as I pass

Then the field goes brown, brown, brown

goodbye 1-70 you never

forget how to be from St. Louis

when you are from St. Louis

Z. D


to be in Missouri. The show me of America

sitting in the middle of the north and south

saying hey look at me in the middle

from the Missouri to the Mississippi. I lived in Missouri

18 years. The Missouri bird

is a dry field. The state flower

is the Ozarks which sounds self-absorbed

though it is merely cold and wide as the truth.

A mid-westerner can use the word “truth,”

can sincerely use the word “sincere.”

In the truth the mid-west is not mid or west

When I go back to Missouri I fly over the appliations.

You see the transition from the east to west, so life

goes mountain, mountain, hill, field. I wave at Illinois

which we’re not getting along with

on the account of boringness as I pass.

Then Illinois goes field grass field

the arch, goodbye east coast. You never forget

how to be from Missouri when you’re from Missouri

J. B


I remember St. Louis dearly as the place I go

to be in St. Louis. The heart of America with open arms to the west

building towers up high

from north side to south side I lived I St. Louis

17 years. the city’s bird

is Anheuser Busch. The state flower

is the arch which sounds almost boastful

though it is merely cold and loud as hell

A St. Louisan can use the word unjust,

can sincerely use the word “sincere.”

In truth the St. Louis in not Saint or Louis

When I go back to St. Louis I drive through

there is highway 55 &  44, so life

goes highway, traffic, McDonalds, highways

I wave at the millennium

which we’re not getting along with

on account of Ferguson as I pass.

A. P


I remember Atlanta as the place

I to be in St. Louis. The right hand of America

waving from maps or the left. It’s as messy, long, small, creepy,

ghetto and broken-people pressing into clay – a mold

to take home away like fresh air from high school

student to man. I lived in St. Louis for 17 years old. The Missouri bird

is a changed factory gate. The flower is wonderful. The Mississippi River

sounds like trash being dumped. The truth feels good as Peaches ‘n

Cream. In truth, the Midwest is not North or East. When I go back to Missouri,

I walk through Illinois. There, off 64 a mosque, so life the corn feed,

so goes lies, lies, lies, lies. I wave at the truth being along in account

as Mike Brown mother loses her son.

A. C


 I Remember St. Louis as the place I go

to be in St. Louis. The right hand of America

eat, sleep, run, play, run.

Pressing into clay a mold to take home

chairs, stairs. I lived in St. Louis 25 years.

The St. Louis bird is pollution. The stat flower

is history museums which sounds fun

though it is cold and merely deep as truth

a St. Louisan can use the word truth,

can sincerely use the word “sincere.”

In truth the U.S is not unite or states.

When I go back to U.S I ride through

California. There is off I-75 in USA Statue,

so life goes hey, hey, hey, hey, I wave at

California. Which we’re not getting along with.

On account of pollution as I pass.

E. L


I remember St. Louis fondly  as the place I go

to be in St. Louis. the knee cap of America

the ill family member that burdens everyone

the heat that makes rocks diamonds from

mean mugs. I lived in St. Louis 17 years.

The 314 bird is a black rose. The state flower

is the Arch which sounds monumental though

it is merely cold and broken as some homes.

A Midwestern can use the word truth,

in truth the Midwest is not old or new.

When I go back to St. Louis, I walk through the hood.

There is a few old school country cars so life goes like

old dreamy movies, I wave at old folks

which we’re not getting along with

on account of uneven side walks as I pass.

Then the Missouri goes hey, hey, hey, bridge,

goodbye overland. You never forget how to be from

St. Louis when you’re from St. Louis.

Q. H


I remember St. Louis as the place I go

to be in Humphrey. The St. Louis, Missouri of America

crowded, nice, sightful, troubled, bright, green

open flower garden from 1997 to 2016.

I lived in St. Louis 18 years.

The St. Louis bird is crime-full.

The State flower is beauty which sounds ambient

though it is merely cold and hot as summer.

A Missouri-er can use the summer,

can sincerely use the word “sincere.”

In truth the Missouri is not Miss or Ouri.

When I go back to Missouri I drove through Kanas.

Kanas has more land than Missouri, so life

goes land, land, land, kanas, I wave at kanas, on account

of Mississippi as I pass.

H. H


 I remember St. Louis, MO as the place I go

to be in St. Louis. The right leg of America

running from people and other struggles

breaking into pieces of nothing to leave here

baby to now. I lived in St. Louis  17 years. The

state bird is a man down state. The state flower

Mississippi which sounds warm

though it is cold and low as hate.

A younger can use the word hate,

can sincerely use the word, “sincere.”

in truth the city is not nice or sweet.

When I go back to St. Louis I walks through

MO. I’m of Louisiana in MO a piece, so life

goes corn, corn, corn, down, I wave at life,

which we’re not getting along with

on account od the people as I pass.

D. H

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