Poetry
Invaluable Information
by Maple Wheeler I have a reminder for you young little bird remember to forget not the flowers as they blossom, or the leaves as they fall. keep your innocent eyes open, let your heart bloom and your smile grow be not drowned by the things you may see or the pain you will feel instead let them be the warm winter coat you happily shed when the cold is gone and spring whisks you away Untitled by Maple Wheeler I remember the sound of the voice, barely real enough to be called that. silk through my dreams and honey in the morning velvet for lunch, cotton for dinner. after my sabotage (sometimes yours), when the love-colored comfort feels like fingertips in january I try to find it in the ever trodden swamp, (it's like searching for a sock in the sheets but the sheets are on fire, and so am I) to coax the tingle-burn out of the corner. I am lucky, because it has nowhere to go but between our reluctant hands. we both try to give some away: me to the keys, you to the hills but it never lets us give up so easily. Skipping Stones Anonymous We sit, three familiar strangers On blankets of a lakes edge Our words humming through the air like stones Each one a memory pulled from our chests, Leaving aching chasms We’ve forgotten how to fill Our voices tremble as they skim the surface Of waters that sing out to us, soaked in blue nostalgia And infinitely deep We’re skipping stones the size of pebbles But each tiny ripple mocks us Bitter reminders of the waves cast off by boulders Each pebble is skipping slower Our words are merely shallow shadows Of a world hidden beneath the ripples But perhaps one day we’ll remember How to lean back on our heels and throw with all our weight So our words will sink back into that world built long ago by stones too strong to break Untitled by Lucas Homan There once was a man A most sad and pathetic man Let’s call him Dell He was so pathetic, in fact, that he only had 3 brain cells Thought and Action, who worked together quite well And then there was a third one what he did no one could tell How he got to a state with only 3 cells no one knew Perhaps it was from a lifetime of snorting glue Whatever the reason it doesn’t matter now Just believe me when I say he was dumb as a cow Thought and Action were the only things keeping Dell alive They had so much work they could never take five Then one day poor Dell got hit in the head with a brick And this caused action to get extremely sick Well my friend he said with a sigh The time has come for me to die And with one last impulse he died. Oh dear god what am I to do exclaimed thought There is no way I can run all these bodily functions by myself it is impossible the task is unmanageable intangible The end is near for me this I guarantee Wait you there who are you? He said with shock And this caused cell three to stop like a rock Who me he replied why I am cell three. What kind of name is cell three I beseech thee do tell Oh I don’t know but I’m the third last cell Thought knew he had no other choice So he said in a silky voice Of what purpose do you serve my dear friend Oh I don’t do much of anything I just kinda float around Well come here you are now in charge of action just do as I tell and I believe that all will go well Yes this can work thought thought to himself we will succeed! I have good feelings about this yes indeed And so their partnership began the final two. They functioned to the very best of their ability and they did pretty well Considering they were short a few billion extra cells Because regardless their numbers they had to try Or else poor Dell would surely die Then one day thought said look over there That lady she’s so stunning so beautiful and fair I think she’s coming over my dear friend cell number three Just follow my lead and listen to me But then a thought hit thought with a strike What do we talk about what does she like Should we talk about all the extravagant things we've done But we’ve done nothing either fancy nor fun Maybe we should tell her how beautiful she looks Yes do that I believe that will work Whatever we do just remember to act cool But poor cell three had started to drool Stop it stop she's staring with disgust Get it together you must you must But cell three just looked on in awe And all that came out was a strangled gah cell three didn’t know what what he should do So he just stood there feeling blue And By the time he got it together it was much too late the pretty lady had walked out the gate Thought yelled in anger What are you doing you dumb poop eater You’re the biggest waste of space and you’re only .004 centimeters Cell three just sat there feeling sad and crushed Why was his sorry life so unjust And he decided right there that work he would not And with a soft pop he died on the spot And that was the end of the man named dell Who died soon after cell three’s last farewell How he made it that long it’s hard to tell With a total of only three brain cells Crying during a panic attack by Lillianna Ensminger The air around me was dense, hot, and suffocating. But each tear drop that fell must've come from the mind numbing iceberg lodged in my brain hidden behind all the things clouding up my mind. Each time one trailed down my cheek and hit my arms skin it left another tiny bump behind. Only my head and back were left dry once the flood of tears subsided. Untitled by Hannah Pereira A deep breath in and out, muscles poised. An explosion is set off from somewhere deep within her body. From the moment her left big toe leaves, to the moment her right middle finger meets the surface, time stops. A mere milliseconds to others, yet a pause for her, held by adrenaline and dare. Broken by the cold shock, triggering her instinct, go. Ringing by James Richards Howling hidden in the sky, A bell is ringing oh so high. Above the city, full of light, Above the smog found in the night, It rings, it cries, for a time Before the city full of light, Before the smog found in the night. Sending fires atop the world, The bell returns to gloat and whirl But finds the city evermore, Brighter, larger, rotting for: A faster way to race and chase Down the bell’s most protected space. The bell will ring for peoples’ fault In laying layers of pain and asphalt. The bell decides to take us all, Not in a day, but in a crawl. But what is there to act and do About this bell who rings “adieu”? The city screams not “world’s end”, But for a celebrity’s new hot boyfriend. The city still hears a ring in the sky, And knows bell’s plan for its people to die. They all know it’s now too late, To change the world, unlock its fate. Nothing can be done in time anyways. Howling hidden in the sky, The bell still rings oh so high. It sees the city, full of light. It sees the smog found in the night. It sees the word that has no care, happily ready to make a nightmare. About Osric by James Richards Bestow my head my headwear of Osric, That’s me, Who’s charming cheeks reek impressive taxation. Feat one which takes skills astounding and lips abounding With a speak scholar’s merit, full fixation. Stupidityness haven’t grasp the head of Osric, That’s me, Because I know not its scheming demeaning meaning. ‘Tis common truth mine lexicon had not nor now knows no bounds, One of any and any’s one regards my polished tongue to need not cleaning. Praise be, the fantastical, syntaxtical, lord of word Osric, Still me, B’cause his vocal intricacies bare closure none. Profound in life, this rare bright orator, My silver tongue be never outdone. Time by Alyssa Jubb Sometimes I truly believe that time stops, the clocks stay the same time, nothing going forward, there is a pause in every second, every hour, every month, every year, time truly stops, the world stops spinning, we all don’t notice because we’re frozen in time people, planets, other organisms are just little specks that fill up the universe the big idea is just time, too little, too much, just enough, time, that’s what everyone wants, right? Rain, it’s the saddest sight you could see, well if you picture it that way, rain could be good, if you only see the light in it, seeing the good in everything takes energy, it takes time, everything goes back to time, the world, the universe, time, time, time No News by Jacquelyn Opalach Yesterday there was no news. The people didn’t believe it, they expect it, but truly it was. Nothing happened for 24 hours. Nothing. Nothing happened because all the big guys and girls, (the ones who run the world), suddenly stopped tweeting and hating and arguing and lying and talking - all on the same day. Absurd. Absurd? You question. I was pleased. For one day, it was like the world finally became utopia. A dream. No news. Thank God, you say. Well, I think you’re a fool. Foolish to thrive on hours of nothing and wish for more of it. I can’t stand people like you. How could you possibly accept such bland reality? I’d expect any person of substance to understand that a world without any events, good or bad, is as absurd as a human race void of culture, conflict, language, expression, communication, substance. Hours spent, day after day, with nothing new to talk about. What a world that would be. This world is better, trust me. You need everything that comes with it, and the pain is no exception. We need new petty conflicts to engage our Absurdist lifestyle every day, because it’s true that life is meaningless, and your meaningless hours are better spent reading about what’s gone down in recent hours than dwelling on said meaninglessness, or worse - not dwelling on anything at all. Did you hear? The world is in danger today, and it was in danger yesterday too. Except that danger wasn’t at the expense of any ordinary, absurd event. No. The world was in danger because there was no new news. Too many of us took a liking to apathy. Hours static. At first, the journalists feared for their jobs, but then they decided that this absurd anomaly was, in fact, newsworthy. World- wide silence, the papers read. I’d say this was a good sign, except that their coverage was less than satisfying; they left the columns blank. Thankfully, it’s over. And today’s headlines: Old man with no money wins the lottery and buys vitamix with four “absurdly satisfying” extensions included. New study finds the average politician spends 36 minutes per day on Twitter, Trump an outlier with 4 hour average. Worldwide news outage spurs international relief; one bored existentialist teen the exception. The Samurai of Good Health and Hope and Honor and Other Good Things by Zane Taylor There once were five heroes from Dorm. Vick, the cat in human form. The wizards two, Radic the red and Balbazar dressed in blue. Meowgi the monk with steely claws And an unnamed knight with little cause. Together they were glued, By fate that so is true. Aboard the Kimberley to the north sea, Each one seeking glory and glee. Vic the pirate sought gold and greed. Meowgi, vacation and lots of mead. The two wizards wished to reverse their youth And the unnamed knight sat silent, aloof. So for a day and a moon the adventures sang, Of drinking and sailing and pirates to hang. But their cheery spirits ran into a damper. When a storm hit their port with no time to pamper. They were pulled by a whirlpool, Stuck inside like a poor fool. Thrown all about and drenched like a trout. The Journey had begun. They woke to sand at their feet. Nothing left of their ship but some rope and a one cleat. The island was green, with palms and flowers. A thick jungle and volcanic towers. Their captain had disappeared. The heroes thought him dead, so they feared. His still remained, Blue feathered and blood stained. So the adventures explored the isle. Soaked wet with enough rain to fill the Nile. They came across an abandoned elven ship. And contracted a blinding disease with a sip. Meowgi, and Vick. The wizards were sick. Only the unnamed knight remained pure. The others were desperate for a magical cure. The party of five met a band of lizards. Who captured our heroes, even the wizards. They were sent to a temple by the lizard Magog. Located deep in a dark, dark bog. The heroes set forth, blind through the jungle. Chopping through obstacles plant and both fungal. The temple lay sinking into the marsh. The guardians were giant and acidly harsh. Bloodsuckers as big as a sow. A toad which could eat a whole cow. So they fought and they battled. And Radic was rattled. For the toad swallowed him whole. His body, his mind, and his soul. Meowgi leapt into the toad’s mouth And punched and kicked and sent it south. A cure for their plague, in shape of a flower. All which was left was to return to the tower. Back to the lizard village they walked. Past the beach with where they unpleasantly docked. Praise and glory came to the party, The drink was flowing, the food was hearty. But something was afoul, Magog the lizard told them with a deep growl. “Friends, I come here today, For I have bad news to say. My village is in great peril, From a pirate who's savage and feral.” “Gallidan Greenheart he calls himself so, A ring he is seeking, which one I ney know. So leave this island before it is ravaged, Bring the wife and the children, I'll tell them no baggage.” The adventures shrugged from one to another. Glanced down at a ring they had found and said, “Oh brother”. They made an oath to destroy the gold band. And stood in circle held hand in hand. Our heroes heard the first shots from the Greenheart guns. And loaded the wives, and daughters, and sons. All were accounted for and out they sailed. The heroes had won! Their ambitions derailed. But Vic the Cat in human form, Looked up at the setting storm. “Aye mateys, rough sailing’s ahead. I’m just glad we're off that isle of dread.” So the band of travelers kept on. Sailing of to the setting sun. Adventure in their hearts. Directed by stars and navigational charts. They ended up in a frozen sea. An abandoned camp, left by general Lois. They were ambushed by two ebon gunships. Blasted to pieces and kissed with lead lips. But the day was one of sadness. Balbazar, let’s just say he descended to madness. The wizard was hit by a concussive blast. And his fellow companions were too slow, not fast. The blue wizard had met his end And Radik the red lost his best friend. They left their boat adrift. Trying to fill an oozing rift. Their tale is a long one and continues away. Up to tomorrow and even today. So if you hear stories about Radik the Red. Meowgi the Monk, and Balby who’s dead. A cat who’s a pirate and a timid knight. Know that they fight for the just and the right. The heroes of Dorm continue their quest. No vacation for them, a break or a rest. Stuck in a never ending story they fall. No one hearing their long lost call. Us by Milo Cafarella Sometimes I ask myself if our only purpose in life is to fill that emptiness we have since we are born. When we are little kids, we spend most of our time playing: Video games, with friends, with our imaginary friend. Emptiness is the least of our problems at that age, Yet, it is already there, just waiting for puberty Then we become teens, and we start experiencing that Burning black hole devouring our mental and physical energy Ending up sometimes on our bed, feeling lifeless. That’s when we try as hard as we can to fill that gap up We distract our mind with meaningless things We try not to feel powerless in our lives We try not to drown in our emotions We try to drown our emotions, In the farthest part of our brain Saying to ourselves that if we hide them, Than maybe we won’t have to face them, And when we think the problem is solved, they just sneak behind us and stab us twice as hard. We express our pain to close friends People that are supposed to be close They’re physically but not emotionally close. We feel we’re falling down We’re about to crush We are always on a run We hide behind masks We created ourselves to feel accepted When we are the first ones who don’t accept ourselves. When WE are the first ones who don’t accept ourselves. Sometimes we feel we are trapped in a bird cage We are behind bars that our own hands have built We are always looking for that key that will set us free That damn key There’s always an ongoing war inside of us We want to have people around us, But we also want to be left alone; We want to feel older than we are; But we don’t want to take the responsibilities that comes with it; We want to be happy and carefree But we want to feel pain too, because we want to feel alive. We want to be in a relationship because we want to have a special bond with someone But deep inside we’re selfish, we just want to be loved. Deep inside we’re selfish, we just want to be loved. We want this, we want that, We just want to be popular We just want to be cool Well, I just want to be me Well, I just want to be We have to be proud of our imperfections because That is what makes us different from the others, And if we are not different from other people Than we are not ourselves. And if people don’t like you because you are just you, Then forget them, that’s not your problem. We are emotions, passions and unique ideas, Enclosed in different boxes, our bodies. In Love With Scatter Brain by Matthew Manus Some say she’s majestic Some say she’s a stereotypical Sagittarius My ex would even say she’s a bitch But… In my eyes.... She is perfect. DROP D.E.D DED GORGEOUS From her beautiful brown eyes that resemble pools of honey To her sweet, sweet voice To her long long legs She’s a sight to be seen She’s my inspiration. To be strong To be a gentleman To be… I guess...me. She loves me Even after seeing all of my flaws And meeting my crazy family And even after I fart in front of her She still loves me… She loves me for who I am Not my social status Not my car Not my money She sees right through me like I am an open door Because love is like an open door And with that she’d probably start singing Oh and once she starts, she doesn’t stop But that’s OK because I love her to a million pieces The pieces of her that nobody else sees From her temper tantrums To her happy dance To her sad times To her being so happy she’s screaming on the top of her lungs And even her insane cuisine She eats top ramen and Ketchup, calls it Spaget Buckets of Mac & Cheese with gallons of Tapatio But only the spirals or she won’t eat She eats like a toddler She talks like a toddler She sleeps like one too She’s just a little, big year old She is in charge of a lot of people She is a manager that I always want to speak to Getting off at midnight almost every night We go to sleep together The last person I see at night The first person to steal all the blankets from me She frustrates me all the time by pushing me off the bed And giving me the smallest part of the pillow But she is the prettiest looking thing i see in the morning With her hair tied in knots Her breath smells like ass I will admit mine does too But there is nobody else i'd rather kiss Deception by Zoey Hilton Monochrome existence of a radiant soul Falling shards off the crumbling clock childish phantoms shredding sanity Exposed inner workings reduced to coal eternal cracks in your shrinking flock Hiding scars with profanity Singleplayer by Hannah Powell Wild apple trees dot the sides of the mountain, Planted by something, or someone, long gone. And wild sheep graze lazily over the flower fields As the sun sets over the sea, Droplets of water glinting like a pale blue diamonds As they scatter across the beach. It’s an island, poking up over the waves, A single point piercing the sky. The only land for days. I pull myself out of my boat and drag it up onto shore Before the tide can sweep it out of my grasp. The dripping sun bobs at the edge of the sea, Its reflection carving a path through the waves towards me. I yank harder, leaning back to haul it up over the sand, To make sure I’d be able to find it later, My bare feet digging deep furrows into the beach. Building a new boat took a long time And I wasn’t planning on staying for longer than I had to. I never did. I’m not really sure what I’m looking for, If I’m looking for anything. At first I thought I was looking for a good place to build a home. But once it was built, I got bored pretty quick. The brick cottage was cold and empty, Despite being filled with all the things I could ever need to survive. But pure survival isn’t enough. Or, it wasn’t enough for me. So I stopped watering my garden, Leaving the flowers outside to dry up and blow away, Just like my motivation. There’s a temple in the woods near the top of the mountain. Mossy stone, cracked with age and crumbling Like dirt through my fingers Like sand under my bare feet. I duck under a half-collapsed, rotting column to get inside. The wind blows through the gaps in the wall, weathering the walls away And fluttering the tattered tapestries hanging on the walls. They glow silver from moonlight. I’m not optimistic, when I see the chest, but it shrieks open When I pull, and a scroll falls out at my feet, a little moldy at the edges. But it’s a map, with an X like a smudge of dirt, A lead, the only lead I’ve ever found. Am I alone? I’ve never seen anyone else like me in all my travels. Even the villagers I come across are alien, no sense of familiarity Or community or ease can exist between us. I trade with them, walking past their churches and butcher shops and smithies, Their small communal gardens of carrots, potatoes, and beets, But there’s no real communication, just a simple trade. None of them seem to have any technology, or government, But neither do I. I look for things we have in common, But I haven’t met anyone like me anywhere. I find ruins sometimes on my travels And books that I can’t seem to read, And huge skeletons, of extinct creatures, Dried bones under desert suns and skulls under forest trees, Somehow free of moss after millennia. But they’re way too big to be something like me, So I move on. Yellow light spills out over the ocean, Over the diamond waves. I shove myself against my boat to send it out into the water And splash into the surf to send it away from shore. Me and my little boat travel further and further from the island, And I watch it shrink into the evening haze, Tiny white pinpricks of sheep on the hillside, A tiny green island poking up from the sea. I’m still alone as I turn to look towards where the sun sets. I’ll keep looking, I tell myself. And then I log off. Sometimes I get too deep into Minecraft. A Poem I found in my 9th Grade Notebook by Dany Brown Splatterpaint art of shades and shadows Lovely drops of red and blue As they lead you to the gallows Golden skies and darkened earth A world devoid of life and color Sowed the demon seeds of greed and favor And now I reap the deadly benefits I gave my heart A weary mass of stone and sand Thumping weakly against my fingers As liquid Gold pours from my gaping chest Crocodile tears rain down From unforgiving eyes My face invisible To their greedy self-obsessed gazes My hands cold and shaking Soul weak and fading I disappear into the noise And take my place among the forgotten She lured them in Silver tongue and serpentine eyes A pretty head filled with lies Fangs dripping and hungry I reach out to them Cold fingers weak and numb I hang my head and close my eyes Acceptance has always been my specialty With bone white chalk I add another tally Another friend lost to hell They See Eden in the mask of flesh and bone Gold Dust Slipping Through Your Fingers by Jayden Morehead The definition of learning is the relatively permanent Change in behavior based on experience But what kind of experience is feeling stressed, stuck in a desk,I think education should be a place for bringing out the best of each and every individual and for building up the intellect, not just some silly game we play to see how many A’s we can get. This game doesn’t bring out people’s dreams and passions but instead, it stuffs more inside of us to memorize and then forget after regurgitating it on a standardized test. But what test can teach us how to make the best of every situation, how to be more understanding and, compassionate towards one another and how to have a genuine positive impact on the world, and the people around us? What test can teach you how to Face all your fears and look straight in the mirror to See your individuality which separates you from your peers? No test has ever taught me that, Life’s gold dust slipping through your fingers, You could lose it any minute, Gotta keep up with it, Keep on benefiting, Everyday I’m living I take in the feeling, Cause you gotta take it embrace it and gain from it, It’s not what you make but it’s what you became from it, Flow with the vibe and we’ll ride in the waviness, Time of your life so why wouldn’t you savor it? We, You, Me, I by Spencer Olson We, You, Me, I, Such a small word, Just one letter Yet so many things are behind I I can mean so many things, We are all so different Everyone has a different self story of I I only knows about me I was told I know what i'm bad at Now I just have to find what I'm good at Sounds easy enough right Yet how am i supposed to decided My brain feels like its jammed My brain is like a backed up printer Or a river that has been blocked by a dam Just not wanting to work the right way We sit looking for things we don't even know what we are looking for Or how to even find it, I sit looking at my phone Wasting my time away Throwing it down the drain like the cold cup of coffee someone didn't finish, Yet this is normal Lost behind the screens of flashing light I look and care more about what others are doing How they are living Instead of living my life To the fullest, Living the life I want to live Whatever that is for you or me Now it seems that we are taught to wait for a big breakthrough That one thing will change everything A life changing event, This is like expecting to get hit in the head by a coconut on a windy day It's just not likely going to happen We need to focus on the small victories The small triumphs Those little feel good moments in everyday life It's the small changes, victory, and realizations that builds our character As one of my favorite teachers used to say If you are having a bad day It's not a bad day at all Its a character building day The hard times will help you grow If you feel like no ones knows what you are going through There will most likely be someone who has been through the same struggle and pain, Don't push away but instead listen Open your ears like a flower would open up to the warm rays of sunlight Don't hang on to your anger and let it leave you As if a is wave washing it way, Washing off of you and sweeping it away, Sometimes we make it and sometimes we don't Solutions will probably never show themselves like the monster under the bed that only you knew was always there Left to try and see the positive Yet how many smart and creative people are lost every year to this system To fall short and who were unable to connect the dots of education Of this education system The system that feels like a maze or even a cage, I feel like i get my thoughts flipped upside down like i was a bat hanging from the dark cave of my dreams My thoughts run around and around in my head like a runner on a track Partially in loop On repeat On repeat On repeat On repeat Depression and worry feel me like air in a balloon that's about to pop I need something to relieve the stress and tension But if i don't know what i want to do All i am told is You will probably just get left with what's left, The scrapes of everyone else The parts no one wanted like a egg shell or banana peel Yet we still don't even what we what to do Lost in the thick fog with only your arms stretched out trying to find our way Lost in life's maze in the dark Not knowing what turn to take Or where you are going to end up These thoughts and decisions are weighing you down more than gravity ever could I feel like I am trying to avoid being crushed by the foot of society's norms, My thoughts move slowly like the clouds in the bright blue sky Not really having a specific direction Just going where the wind blows I try and plant my ideas in the grown so hopefully they grow So they grow into blossoming flowers or very tall trees Petals unfolding and branches stretching every which way Slowly reaching for the sun and the sky above Not stopping till they touch the stars The bark around our hearts by Shaely Sullivan The dissatisfaction within all of our hearts With each breath that is taken in from the sky above With all the unknown fears and worries that rise from deep beneath the earth And all the thoughts and decisions winding their way through the curves and bends of ours roots But all the questions and answer that rain down onto the muddy ground and soak into your souls But as the ideas rumble through the clouds and actions strike through the sky Actions always cause fires that burn with many consequence Tears do fall and the fire is put out, but the deviation is unimaginable And the wants and desires in all of us are arised Because once was a beauty of green forest But that single action or wrong decision left a barren land crisp to coal The regret and sadness tares the bark off your hearts But the memories of that tragedy stays in your roots and branches Your greens leafs stays in your phantom memory for what seems like eternity With all the disappointment that arise with the sun And the regrets that arise with the moon That constant reminder of the actions taken Only bring the deepest of thoughts through all the smoke the and rubble Of burnt bark around your heart Eventually is burn away by the consequence of the fire And all is left is dry leaves that under touch crumble away As though nothing was ever there But there was, your eyes glazed there was Eventually all those thoughts turn into giant black hole That consume all the positive and goods things left Only leaving the negative thoughts and bad decision Because that green valley is always at back of our minds Which causes the mouse to crawl back down it’s hole Since there are only dark shadows and smoke out there All the life that once lived was plagued by our minds With a signal wrong thought or action But with time the wind dies down Only that valley is simply a wound over your hearts That is slow becoming smaller The sadness and regret may always be there, but now it just a memory of true sorrow A memory that is forgotten under all the troubles that have come and gone But that the regret is always there With the fire in our dreams every night Only wishing the smoke to be gone But the smoke and fire will not part until We give ourselves chance to let go All that pain and hate that drove us down the hole We must forgive, I must forgive And maybe then A seed will find its way out of the dark soil Into the light of the warming sun And slowly the forest valley will grow once again Stronger than before With roots and branches that run deep into earth Where no fire no can ever burn But until that day the valley will remain A scared and torch land with constant fire and smoke The Sun by Dori Denisi Soaring; rising in the sky. Streaming across the universe, Perfectly still. Burning; ever burning. Hot. Hot as the hate for those I loved. Your rays reach down And hug me like my Father did. Your whispers calm me Like the soothing voice of My mother. Then, in the deepest depression Of my mental rain, You shine. Your comforting words of warmth Clear my clouds and show me the Rainbow inside. All That We Have Found by Joshua Horan I grew up with a dad who showed me if you have a passion, you must follow it. Each day I see him playing guitar for 6 hours or more. My mom told me, “You can't listen to the people that doubt you because the same people who are wasting their words are wasting their time.” My whole youth I never stopped chasing my imagination. While my whole life moves through time, I’ll never stop chasing my youth. If you have a passion that you defer, where does that energy go? Does that feeling barricade itself into the thought of “what if?”. These internal thoughts are simply me putting my trust in the hands of hope. I hope you believe in me; furthermore, I hope you believe in yourself. These walls have seen us in various stages of age and emotion, I guess they’ve seen just about all of us. The insane part, for you, that have trust within’ yourself or that burning passion you must pursue or else you’ll never be whole, is some people have never felt that for even one second. There’s an array of individuals who sleepwalk through life without an inch of thought that they even have a potential passion to pursue. As I walk through my life, I believe that all that I ever wanted is simply waiting for me. All that you ever wanted is right in front of you. Whether that be tangible or intangible. If you live out what you feel, if you live out your passion, then, not only are you living through love but you are living at the hands of your own mind and within your own dreams. We live in a world where whatever you think you can basically have. Ourselves are the limits in which the manifestation of doubt subconsciously occurs. Most of us think to ourselves, “I’d never be the one that lives out my dreams!”. The people who are living out their dreams, right now, doubted themselves at one point in time; however, their strength, their hope, surpassed the fear that once had them in the palm of fears hand itself. My dad never got to live out the dreams he pictured in his head. My dad, who indeed I love dearly, deferred those dreams for another lifetime. My mother, who indeed I love dearly, still cares about the words of others and takes those words to the heart as if it was a sword impaling her. Sometimes, those people who tell you the advice you always needed to hear, are still digesting it themselves. The message of doubt surrounds the conscious of the ones who doubt others. Their own box wants to entrap others in order for them to feel whole. As the hateful words of the people who enclose their mind speaks to you, grabs your dreams from the stars to drag your mind back to earth, they begin to get inside of your mind if you’re not careful and confident. Those words have such a weight where you can’t return to the space filled reality you call your utopia. However, those words are illusions you decide to comprehend. When you begin to listen, a step behind from comprehending, to the doubtful mind of foes, that’s where you notice the left on the path to success. Where the fork in the road may astray you from your own progress. As you reach for the stars, understand that that reach is the only one you may have. You your passion and push your limits to exceed what you believed was the limit to your own accomplishment. Not only are you the most of yourself when you try to reach, but that may be the most of yourself you may ever see, if you’re not careful or precise. Does the peak of your progress fall when your imagination does? As that thought lingers with an echo of negativity, my heart begins to drop as my mind focus’ on the very path I’m personally on. My whole youth I never stopped living in my imagination, reaching for the stars, so why would I want to stop now? Why would I want to stop later? A Poem Just Because by Eva Villamor Why do people put things in categories? On paper that sounds rational And makes our ridiculous species sound organized. But, ha, that’s a laugh. We invent things, and evolve. But we are far away from being...what? We even need help deciding what we are Looking for. Some people say that the mind is strong, others say weak. But aren’t both words correct? The mind and humans in general are paradoxes, contradictions. Maybe it’s like the saying “half empty” or “half full,” Because one is positive, and ones negative; It's the ultimate test: Are You An Optimist or A Negative S***bag? Well gee, maybe i’m one of those for phrasing it that way. But the way I see it: We are all mixed up. In the mind, Our personalities. We are (in most cases) walking and talking slabs of meat, Both weak and strong, powerful and well, weak. We are hypocrites with our war and peace and thoughts and feelings. We are human. Probably Satire by Jalen Zerkel-Loomis I’ve been trying to be a better person, but I’ve found it quite difficult The very existence of humans is an insult I have managed to stop ritualistically slaughtering goats Though that has been very upsetting to my bros Cthulhu says I’m being meek Beelzebub said I’ve become weak They taunted me when we were out for tea So I broke Lucifer's knee That shut them up, surprisingly Anyways, I’ve also stopped kicking old ladies down the stairs And breaking up couples just because I don’t like pairs I haven’t destroyed a planet since Alderaan I’m sorry for corrupting Saruman I made amends with Magni and Modi for eating their grandad I really have tried not to be too bad But I need meds so I must be crazy, I dress mostly in black hoodies so I must be shady, I play D&D so I must be a devil worshipper, And I play video games so I must be a shooter I’ve always had a knack for blaming myself for everything ever Dear Stranger by Jalen Zerkel-Loomis I know you don’t know me Worse yet I don’t know you But I can see what you’re going through I know it ‘cause I feel it too They say to speak up but the world just wants to bring you down To treat you like you’re a freaking clown You speak up, people get scared They can’t help that you’re scarred Or that it feels like you are Truth be told neither can I Even so I still want to look at you eye to eye This poem wasn’t written about you But if you can relate then, you’re one of the many it’s to Please, give me the chance to help you Even if I can’t I still want to try to see you through I know I’ll probably fail, it’s true I don’t even know how to write poetry, how can I help someone like you Just occasionally throw in a rhyme at the end of the line Call it fine But with all my shortcomings I still want to try I want to see you on the other side To see you alive Maybe teachers don’t get it Maybe friends are afraid of it Maybe the world thinks less of you for it But none of that is me I’m just as lost as you But helping you helps me too I won’t see you on the other side, I’m not done here But maybe I can get you there If you can’t talk to them don’t be afraid to talk to me I promise I can at least try to handle the situation delicately Don’t keep the depression inside It’ll just eat you alive Whether it’s fear, hatred, or shame Or maybe you’re just freaking insane Trust me I feel it too All I want is to get through to you I’m all alone too Tree Of Life by Aida Koier-Schrauger Wherever life can grow, it will. It will sprout out, and do the best it can. Its small green leaves will unfurl and bask in the sun, drinking in nutrients and one day growing into a luscious, many-leafed plant. Of course, the plant is not perfect. Its stems are covered in scars, And many of its leaves die off all together, but. It has endured hardship, and it has become strong. |
Holding on
by Bella Garrett I hold on to the sweet memories Fighting over who gets front seat, wrestling, trusting each other with it all. Something so simple Yet so complex to those who don’t understand Few people do. It’s nice hearing the happiness echo in their voices As they speak about their blood related best friends Yet a part of me yearns to feel the bond that has been destroyed. A relationship that is expected But never guaranteed. Our connection was once there. It existed as young kids Moments that fill my head, laughter filling the room, Speaking at each other through the vents when separated by dumb doings, Spending the weekends with my dad and I, cause your own was not around. When everything started crashing down so fast, strings unraveling, Our relationship came with it. Now it’s so far gone Lost in the house that holds all the secrets. My heart begins to race at the question, I answer hesitating over the words “Yes I have an older brother”. Hoping they don’t ask your age because what follows with people knowing your age Comes questions such as oh what school does he go to? or what is he doing with his life? Nothing. You’re doing nothing. But how do I explain that to people who don’t understand? Silent judgments suffocate their brain Blaming our mom for your lack of success, It’s her fault for raising a son whose life has turned to nothing What if they knew that she has thrown away her life for yours? The one who has never given up on your faults. Who has spent four years supporting you Refusing to let go. What if they knew that she has been allowing her well-being to deteriorate Trying to come up with a solution That will bring you back to life. Six months of living with pure psychotic behavior With trust that you would return. She told me she was losing hope. It had been so long that she had seen the real you, She was afraid you were never coming back. I wish I had the love to understand her devotion to you. It’s difficult not to think of you as selfish for tearing apart our lives. You put no effort into bettering yours Or picking up the broken pieces from the family you destroyed. Your very own. I have been ashamed to call you my brother. Your actions have turned your reputation into someone I don’t know. I look at you and see a complete stranger, Not the person I have grown up with, A person you see on the streets and refer to as crazy. Emptiness fills your face, your eyes convincing me You’re gone forever. That is what a mental illness will do to you. It’s not easy to diagnose But somewhere between the lines of bipolar schizophrenic. Episodes of psychosis- delusional thinking and hallucinations, unexpected, violent behavior, abuse That can last months. Days without sleep is when we know it’s coming. Your paranoid brain convinces you to stop taking your meds, To self medicate yourself, only making it worse. Months pass, When you finally agree to stabilize on meds, The long days of depressive behavior begins, And the cycle repeats. Choosing to look away To ignore what is so prevalent yet hidden beneath the surface of a “perfect” society. It has been around since the beginning of time, Something impossible to avoid, Yet we’re still left with no solutions. Beneficial treatment facilities cost a fortune, Drowning ourselves in debt lasting a lifetime, Yet another weight pushing us down, Knowing deep down that four months of help, Will only be a temporary solution. For the lack of options in our county, Our jails transform into mental institutions, With 80% of inmates struggling with a mental disorder, Like covering a broken bone with a band aid, Doing nothing to fix the underlying issue. Then released onto the streets, A home for those whose lives become a fast paced hourglass to death. Their families left with no options but to mourn and pray for a better way to help those Who still have hope, those who don’t think that it is yet too late. Though, I consider myself fortunate To have such personal experience with an outside perspective On something so stigmatized and wrong spoken. I have been able to develop a new sense of understanding That has taken years of frustration to build. Allowing to learn so much about the defective mental health system, promises that one day, I will be able to contribute towards a solution that will guide them to light. I don’t expect people to understand who haven’t seen what lies behind The doors of a mental illness. It’s something hard to see the severity of when you’re not hit with it one day getting a glass of water from the kitchen. But if more people were just willing to help, we could come up with a solution To fix the families who have been broken and lead the ones directly struggling, to success. And the days I come downstairs and you ask me how my day was, The days you call me just to tell me you love me, The days you greet us with chocolate strawberries, Are the days that feed my hope. They makes me realize that no matter what you put us through, You are worth fighting for, Because someone needs to. My Home by Bella Garrett This is my home, my source of clearness When everything seems to be going wrong She is there to comfort. On the best days We go to the ocean to release. My thoughts are left with the trail of footprints lingering behind Letting go, we forget to do it often enough. Close behind she runs, sensing the freedom in my tracks, Together we take it in, feeling the ice touch our toes but beg for more with each step closer. Happy/Sad by Bella Garrett My happiness is the way she waits for me at the door Preparing for the moment I walk in As her face lights up and her paws make the dancing noise Against the hardwood floors. My sadness is her watching me with her defeated eyes as I Close the door, knowing she’ll be anticipating my arrival, Until she doesn’t Because I’m gone for too long My happiness is the moments we let go Watching the smiles escape as we laugh and dance Or the days we spend in silence, knowing we have each other To make the gloomy days brighter. My sadness is knowing that the moments won’t last forever, And soon we will be on our way. My happiness is waking up to the birds singing, The morning sun poking through the thin fabric, And the breeze that is just cold enough to allow us to Appreciate our sleeping bags. The feeling of complete and absolute freedom, That is only felt through the magic of the mountains. My sadness is coming back to reality, Daydreaming of my return. The Moth by Sarah Jensen I said I am going to fly but Not like an insect I am a bird. Heading towards the little house Dead and crunchy leaves still look like flowers You are a moth. Flying after the flickering streetlight and Running into dirty windows Guided by something, The faded light of a Ruined Constellation The Path by Sarah Jensen A long and black path contains Three levels An upper, a lower, and one that’s right in the middle. It’s a promise made in the morning fog Before there’s any blue That we all walk the same way Why can’t you hear their footsteps? A step, a slip, a fast then slow skip Depending on where you want to go I’m waiting for you Why? by Sarah Jensen Why do the stars come out at night Is it just to give us light? Why do people leave, and why do people go And why don’t people understand that when you say yes, you mean no Imprisoned by my own alignment Enchanted by my self-conflicted confinement I want to be a constellation Admired, but never touched A distant fantasy that you could never clutch Hyperhidrosis Anonymous Reminiscent of a waterfall That has never seen a drought She flows endlessly She is like the ocean Not in that she is salty Rather, she flows freely She tries to contain herself But her forces cannot be kept They flow from her like perspiration You will feel her force when you shake her hand Only the real ones understand How he was Anonymous He could be standing in the middle of the rain He could be in any amount of pain You could scream in his face But he always keeps his pace You could tell him he’s the worst Or you could tell him that he’ll always be first If you ask him why he doesn’t care, He’ll respond that the emotions just aren’t there You might wonder how he got this way But the answer, he will never say His words could slice you like a blade Knowing that his love will always fade He likes to be logical, take the smartest route And once he is bored of you, You will get the boot Don’t try to understand why he acts so tough Because he won’t let you get close enough Silence Anonymous The silence creeps in When you least expect it After the conversation slowly lulls And the door is slowly closed When a crunch of leaves Or a car driving down the street Or the static of the TV Tells you that you are not alone And the universe is filled with other souls You are just a lonely stranger Whose thoughts are filled with danger The silence makes you wonder, Has everyone else found their peace? But don’t be fooled by the quiet of the dark Because eventually, even a dog will bark One Small Boogeyman by Marguerite DiSanzo Graham In the the dark of night, awake far longer than I should be. I realize that I need sleep, so I close my eyes and listen to the quiet. To fall asleep I create stories and relive moments of the previous day. Between the many thoughts bouncing around my head, there is one small creature constantly sitting right in the back of my mind, waiting to come out into the spotlight. Just a simple fact of life not malicious in its existence but of course I dread it anyway. It starts with a thumping in the back of my head as the creature draws near, as one thought leads to another. Then the beast finally comes out. The small creature grows in size fifty times bigger due to fears and regrets. That then splits into a multitude of forms, and then each and every one of them blankets me in shroud of dread and anxiety. With multiple symphonies of different thoughts going off in my head. Each more and more depressing when given more any thought. Each note causing my heart to thump even more. But one piece plays louder than the rest so I have no choice but to listen to it. The inevitability of my situation and that I am powerless to stop it like all others, thumps their drums that cause my head to vibrate with that realization. I try to tear my attention away from it but it inevitability gets caught by another symphony of natural sounds, like that of bird cries, that are vying for my attention. What happens? it screeches when it sees me. This swirls around my brain waiting for an answer but I neither have a literal nor metaphorical answer to give it so I try to tear my thoughts away again. It sticks around in the top of my head like it was watching from the rafters, for another chance to be in limelight again, and then continues to sing. I just wanted to go to sleep. But strangely enough the next thought sticks with me the most. They are the third most loud, but their song is the most dread inducing to me. Will you be remembered? My heart sinks even more into a pit that seems to never end, will I? The quiet socially inept girl with no overt talents other than annoying the living hell out of some people and boring the rest causing them all to ignore me. After that I can't stand it, I need to distract myself. My stomach is in a knot my heart is pounding fifty miles per hour. I open my eyes to the dark and reach towards the dresser. And grab at my phone, the artificial light stings my eyes. I browse around my phone and try to tire myself out and try to finally fall asleep. The creature becomes smaller and smaller until it has return to the state before, small and out of the way in the crevices of my mind. The next morning I wake up and think to myself, I did not get enough sleep last night to deal with real life again. And promptly get out of bed with the small boogeyman still in my head. Alone by Maria Jimenez Nava Why am I here? I take a walk into the forest I’m here standing alone I look beyond the horizon And see the moon shine over the sea I run, stumble and try to break free. The darkness embraces me like a child It covers me like a blanket It surrounds me Nobody there but me. I just want someone here Someone with me To help me find my way back To help me guide. Somehow I lost my way In the game called life With no sunshine to light my way, Only never ending rain I thought this was going to be easy. I drown in tears And my soul is dying. I’m drowning into this emptiness Sinking into a black hole All alone Nobody to hold my hand. Nobody to lead me back I am lost But I will find my way back So I gotta work through it And maintain my calm Just breathe in And set my worries free. I thought I discovered who I was. Life is painful It’s complicated You have no idea what to do What to say Where to go Or how to do it But you have to believe And push through everything. My heart is tired But it keeps going So I follow its beat And let it guide me back Back to the real world With people Not alone Not lost. Along this path I lost my soul My mind And my heart. I’m trying to find my way back Find my voice Stand on my own two feet And be me. Unable to remember who I am Forgot who I was trying to be Forgot my dreams And my goals, vanished. Life won't always be like this Your body won't always feel like this Your mind won't always think like this And you won't always be like this. The only thing holding you back is your mind Either lose yourself or lose your mind But as life goes on You will never lose time Time has been flying For a awhile There’s a time to live A time to die And a time for having fun, Having the time of your life Will always be worth it. The television box by Dakota Kalvaitis-Heffernan The television box has a captivated audience, His parents left it on then left, Unknowing what it was showing; And so he sat, eyes glazed over, His parents left, uncaring; Day after day, on the floor, Showing him pictures of war and news, And death and cartoons; Each image echoed in his mind, then echoed out, Unimpressive, As he sat on the floor in front of the television box; A muddled mind came from growing older, From sitting and staring, glazed eyes uncaring; And age makes you sorry, But solace comes with the TV Each day he sat, glazed eyes, no worries. Yee-Haw by James Richards Under white pillared bricks in a museum known quite well, I saw ahead a big beige hat With a brim quite wide and a hole in its tall crown. Walking to it, I could see, A brown faded plaque, dusty and dull, Dedicated to a certain “Harper Wood” and his memory. Long, long ago, this outlaw did roam Great tracts of grass and the badlands of ol’ New Mexico. A band of banditos and gunslingers-quite-fast, Did Harper Wood travel with in his days of the past. A path he was set on, one bloody and red, With money and gold and bodies and widows, Harper found glory what others found in mourning. I stared at his hat and read on some more: “HARPER WOOD, BORN 1864, HAD DIED FROM DYSENTERY, 1883” “Tough break” I said, As I walked to the crowded East hall, The hat still laying there, Gathering dust for an owner long gone. Ode to Honesty by Mariasha Self The most policed policy; Though that law is Broken too many times, With friendships on Eggshells, the victim of A build up of lies Breaking the yokes of Chicks who couldn’t Keep shut The lies they poured, Or the rumors spilled, The truth buried deep In the depths of The past. A crack in the Sidewalk or a Patch to a ripped Pair of well used jeans, The building is in Progress, but can be Destroyed with words Of mass destruction, The dance between messy And clean, fear and love, Roll the dice, or choose your Pick, it’s a mudslide Without honesty. Civilian to Camouflage by Mariasha Self Now more than ever I long for the days of last summer to Distract from the fact that I miss you. The embrace of safety when I was home. I long for Those days again, wishing for the time shared to last Like the smell of cigarettes on your front porch. More To love, cherish, the light in your eyes, my sun kissed face, our smiles last Through the realization of the near future, a new path for You, but now is the gift of your presence, the unforgiving cards, and long walks too, I always found Arcata small until I walked across its entirety with you For more than two hours, the hills, the tea splashed through me to hydrate more Times than I could try to count. It all seems forever Ago now. The walks from home to your work with you Brought conversations to light I never thought to Think of, let alone speak. The barbecue that took up more Space on your porch than did people. The mazes that seem to last Forever in your house. Which door leads to the bathroom? For A long time, I had to ask whenever I showed up. But time ever Passes, tides change, and now I so wish to Be asking these questions yet again. Never before Had I connected with someone like I did you, A soft spoken, gentle-hearted, soulful human being, I never Wanted you to leave, yet I am lucky, for You are not at risk, your green does not signify danger. The last Thing I need to is to worry about life or death. I feel grateful for Your decisions, your existence, your love, the way you Treat others. Your presence changes a room to Brighten it, your soul contains words of beauty that will forever Stay in my mind. The memories, the experiences, it lasts And lasts, you are someone I am thankful for. No expectations as I walked through the door and to My surprise, there you were, already waiting for Me, your arms inviting, eyes bright, the last Time I can see you before you change. I know you Are strong, capable and I continue to bleed those words forever Until you hear them, and believe them at last. I long to write you a novel of a one week journey or more Than that. Will I ever receive a letter back, I wonder, as time passes empty handed. For Now I sit in silence, seeming to last years, waiting, impatiently for you. Forgiveness by Ijal Morgan Forgiveness isn’t something you want to do, but something that has to be done. Even when you think it shouldn’t be done, sometimes things just have to happen. Whether or not you’re forgiving yourself for a wrong doing, or forgiving someone else because of their wrong doing. You should be able to forgive and forget. Mr. Whitman by Jared Barr Mr. Whitman, Despite what you think, I hear America screaming. They’re screaming: “the problems are piling up and it’s only getting worse, can’t you see?” Problem number 1: We put the foreign kids in cages On the borders edge While 2: The ones we call our own Are shipped out in body bags From our schools every other week… Like clockwork. Sometimes, I wonder, Who has it better? But these shootings in the schools, Their body counts are competed by 3: The boys in blue And their abuse, But what you gonna do? Speak your thoughts, let them spew? Who’s gonna listen to you? Everyone's on their cell phones ‘Cause 4: the wifi rules, can’t you see? It’s well known, to me But unlike 5: the neo-nazis That walk the streets, Brave and strong As if they belong WiFi's got no bias, Unlike the Klu Klux It just tries to divide us Betray our trust Tell us that 6: Global warming’s nothing but a bluff Just like 7: What comes out of these politicians’ mouths When the election dates come But when we say “no more lies,” “Enough!”… All they give us is another two word lie “Of course.” and when they reach the oval office All that they do Is 8: Suppress us Censor us Contain us With the military meant to protect us But nothing will stop 9: The fire in our hearts they try to subdue Just to name a few! Mr. Whitman, Despite what you think, America is in trouble We need to step our shit up and put that shit down but we sit on our ass in our comfy nightgowns As a man under the same sun Under the same flag Under the same “Great, Great” man Hits… The ground Down, Down, Down. Bang. Another one bites the dust. And by dust I mean the bullet The bullet that came from that police officer You know, the white one No, the other one No, the other one No, the- y’know what, never mind Because who really cares? ‘Cause as soon as the body drops Everyone’s gotta be on the top Tweeting “Hashtag Bodybag” From the high to the low From the famous To the faceless. Screaming: “Eyes off the body, The problems at hand! Look at me, I’ve got all the new brands!” Likes, shares, and subscriptions Are the new monetary system I swear I’m about to have a conniption Over this decryption addiction Mr. Whitman, Despite what you think, I hear nothing. America is silent. China is detaining Muslims, Force feeding them Pork and wine. America is silent. Children are stolen from their parents For the heinous crime of seeking a better life Forced into cages like animals America is silent. Venezuela is dying Its people are starving Russia is sending troops in Our government is planning a takeover. We’re closer to world war 3 Than we have been for the last fifty years America is Silent. Last week, 5 shootings happened on US soil. America is silent. On dark days like these, I wonder, Are we worth saving? Y’see, the people who lead us, Are more than atrocious. They run on bands of cash And the dying dreams of the “fellow American.” It’s do or die for us In these concrete jungles That liter America Like plastic bags on the side of the highway And we all know that What you give is what you get but what you get is what they take Under the name of “Social Security,” Little do you know that money is dirty Ripped from the hands of the poor And “graced” upon their many checking accounts And what they don’t take themselves They’re given by those who want their own change. Those of great wealth that want to keep it. The “lucky” one percent. Lucky because of where they were born Not what they’ve done. But their small minds can’t comprehend That for every politician bought There's another hundred thousand shots But despite what you think They’re not in the Middle East You see, the war is in our streets Brother on brother Bonds built by broke bastards Broken by bizarre beliefs. Loyalty’s for the loony And trust... trust means nothing more than a verb in the dictionary. Mr. Whitman, Despite what you think, America is confused. History says that the Union won the Civil War But I look out my window And I think different History says that the Allies won World War 2 But I look out my window and I think different, Because when I look out my window I see the Nazi and Confederate flags Flying more than the American flag. It’s looking more, and more like an invasion. The fascist power hasn’t died The racist thought hasn’t died They’ve simply hidden themselves... in our home turf. Mr. Whitman Despite what you think, I am afraid. I am afraid, because People say sticks and stones will break your bones But words? Words’ll cause psychological trauma that’ll never heal, But for who?... I am afraid Because the year is 2019 And it’s been decided that hate is the best solution. I am afraid Because why tell the teacher Just to be called a snitch With no real solution When bullets can do the talking just as well? I am afraid Because who’s gonna fuck with you in class When you strap your daddy’s semi-automatic on your back? I am afraid Because I find it more, And more of a requirement to ask, “Is that a gun in your pocket? Or are you just happy to see me?” I… am afraid. And I’m not afraid to admit it, But it seems like everyone else… Is, they don’t want to admit it so instead they beat it They hurt it They hurt what they fear And then they fear what they’ve hurt Because what they’ve bitten Has come back to bite And they bite… hard Now who are we talking about You might be confused But that’s the point, you see We fight back but who fought first? We don’t, we won’t know We live on revenge, We live on anger, Yet we preach on peace A place where the good go But all I see… is an empty sky Forgive and forget. An oldie but goldie But it’s all we have left. Mr. Whitman, despite what you think, I love America. That I won’t deny Despite what I imply It’s proved by the colors I fly. All I want is change, and change doesn’t come with one... It comes with the many. Alone I’m a lighter But together we’re a wildfire. Each of us with a different flame. There is a hot wind blowing, I am just warning and preparing ya. There's a hot wind blowing… And it’s coming for America. I hear them screaming, Mr. Whitman. Do you? Way back when by Noah Robinson I don’t know what it is to be happy anymore. It’s a relic of the past. A fleeting feeling of nostalgia back when you weren’t aware you would die one day. To me, Happiness is back when it wasn’t weird to put ketchup smiley faces on your burger. To me, happiness was when no one cared that your belly pooched out when you stood on the diving board, and everyone felt the same way you did looking that long 3 feet to the water you were almost positive you saw a shark in. Happiness was back when your hair could look crazy and the only ones that laughed were your parents, and happiness was when everyone was the same goddamn height and only the giant adults had a leg up. Happiness was also back when I unabashedly strutted my Charizard Pokémon card because I was the only one that had one with crisp edges. Back when the only grades were a star and a frog sticker and recess was longer than your classes, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were the pinnacle of cuisine, and self worth was measured by how many teeth you had lost that year. Age was measured more in quarters than in years, like Shaun being 7 and three quarters meant he was top dog compared to my measly 7 and a half. That was happiness. Remember back when you could hangout with someone of the opposite sex and your parents wouldn’t ask about grandchildren? Yeah that was happiness. That time is gone, and nothing can bring it back. Happiness is the time in which you make it. They are only the good old days when they’re gone so remember to memorize that one cold day surrounded by hot ones, memorize the cracks in your sidewalk and catalog each and every time your cat brings in a rat as a gift. Because you’ll remember it when it’s gone. And that’s all you have. Shadows don’t sleep- why should you by Noah Robinson Do you hear the knocking The shadows on the wall Do you hear the voices Of shadows in the hall If you try to scream Inside you they will crawl So don’t open up your mouth Don’t open up at all. Do not look at the shadows The shadows on the wall They will take out your eyes And sing their ravenous call But you can’t kill the shadow men Even if you want to kill them all Because we need the shadow men And divided we will fall We are the shadow men Who watch you while you sleep We are the shadow men And others souls we reap The shadows are a part of us A part of the hearts of all Just remember you are the shadow One of the shadows in the hall Ode to Grandmother by Celsiana William We once wrote a song about dancing And peanut butter cookies and always having each other in our hearts And growing up, oddly enough since we both thought we never would. Age seven and sixty-seven we sat eating our peanut butter cookies, Printed softly with your great grandmother’s silver fork in a criss cross pattern Just like you taught me, Watching way too many Law and Order reruns. My mother always asks why I love those shows so much. We read many books Usually about princesses and puffins, and an occasional goodnight moon. The one called Guess How Much I Love You was always my favorite. We stayed up late on Saturdays, watching our Law and Order reruns while my mother danced under the disco lights Worrying. Or maybe you fell asleep at eight, and I stayed up late watching Law and Order, worrying. Either way, my mother always returned, at least an hour after she said she would, and the next morning smelt of sausage and eggs, one slice of toast and a side of syrup for dipping. You made the best breakfast from a box I’d ever tasted. You taught me things I’ll never forget Like never run from an officer Keep your elbows off the table I’m thankful your grandmother never came to spank me when I sat on my knees at dinner like you warned me of I'm thankful you weren’t your grandmother. You were mine. Yes we fought, and you had your episodes, scrambling for your pills, tears streaming But pills were swallowed, and back we went to our game of Candy Land or Old Maid Where someone always wound up crying and someone often called my mom accusing me of cheating. But I’d never cheat. You taught me cheating was wrong. You taught me not to gamble because it ruins marriages And don’t buy a dog without consulting your husband. And save up your Coca Cola cans so you can take them to the dump and get money for the crane machine at Toni’s If only I drank as much Coke as you. If only you won as many stuffed animals as I did at Toni’s. Some of your lessons you didn’t teach me orally. Some I learned from your mistakes. I learned never to ride a horse without a helmet Don’t smoke, because if you start, you will until you’re sixty seven And be there for your kids or they will leave you at age sixteen to move across the state And don’t slit your wrists before your daughters dance recital Things end badly this way. Do as I say, not as I do Your famous lines. I went to visit you before you died We brought your favorite flower, Lilies But the nurse made us toss them, a lady on your floor was allergic. The home smelled of death You didn’t remember me Or the peanut butter cookies or Law and Order And as I held your cold hand one last time you stared at the wall Not at me, not at the Television Your emerald eyes had lost their sparkle Goodbye Grandma, I said, an ‘I love you’ barely making it through my lips You mumbled something I like to think was Love you too, pumpkin. In the thirteen years we had together you taught me more than anyone has So here I am, raising my metaphorical Coca Cola to yours through the clouds I’ll see you some day. Father Dearest by Celsiana William Do you ever wonder what I would look like if you stayed? Do you think about my smile and how different it would be if you were there to see it? well, I do. You used to tell me I needed to smile more And stop furrowing my eyebrows because you thought it would give me a headache. Let it go, you’d say. But seven year old me couldn’t. Holding on is all I’ve ever known. Telling me to let it go was like telling you to get off of your phone. commit to a plan To get clean Or admit that you hurt me. I’ve been told I was sweet as a child But my mom remembers my constant crying after you left Not crying because I didn’t get my way Just crying because I didn’t understand how you could walk away from what was supposed to be your family. Your go-to line is When I was your age, I was couch-surfing My step mom kicked me out And I had to mow the neighbors’ lawns to scrape together money. You’re lucky your parents love you. But love is just a feeling and you have ingrained in my brain that you don’t feel it because You don’t show it. You love your other kids And your new wife And most importantly yourself, But I get lost in the distance, Just like your endless attempts at growing up. Lonely soccer games and Parent teacher conferences Are what I think of when I hear the word Dad. Nights spent at my grandma’s when my mom needed a break from the chaos of raising four of us On her own. Watching TV by myself for hours when she had to work late Those are the nights I remember. The afternoons spent waiting for you And every time you didn’t show Another piece of my heart would chip. Those are the days I remember. After too many times, I learned to distance myself. On days you came to pick me up from school I’d run to my friends’ house so I didn’t have to go with you And call my mom, begging her to save me You weren’t scary But the constant fear that you’d let me down again was. The fear that you’d know exactly how to make me weak when I tried to be as strong as I possibly could. I remember the day I told you I didn’t want to see you anymore. The sky was dark and suffocating we drove for what seemed like hours Watching the cows as they grazed peacefully And the birds flew freely while the tension inside your car just about shattered the windshield that I could barely see over. You looked at me with tears in your eyes and said that I was hurting you. That my words hurt your feelings. And the pieces of my heart I worked so hard to put back together Deteriorated again. Of course my words hurt you, Its painful to feel unwanted. But I just sat there, crying and apologizing Trying to make you feel better when I felt empty. My nine year old self didn’t know how to handle the overwhelming emotions that I felt. I wanted to scream at you and tell you I hated you. But I knew my words would sting and I’d hate myself for hurting my dad. All I wanted was to feel like I could tell you everything. So I held them in. You always know how to make me feel guilty Like I’m the one who messed up Like I failed you. Your biggest strength is knowing all my weaknesses. The only constant in my life is the constant pain that you’ve given me By coming and going Lying And manipulating. so I blocked you out. it was all too much, so I erased the tears and disappointment from my memory in the only way I knew how. my ears shut out your yelling when it got too loud to bare I’d beg for silence, That your hateful words towards my mom would disappear And they did, I just never thought you’d walk away with them. Ode to Change by Celsiana William You have done to me what I never had imagined You beat me down, made me cry and peeled me off the cold floor Bruised heart, bloody emotions You come every season, every day, hour, second Thank you, I can say, For you have been my only constant. My mother needs you, my brothers My friends, the blue whale population The whole world needs you. Without you we crumble For you are the only constant. When I was seven my wrist shattered. With you, my body healed. But for the year my family shattered, 2005 I blame you. You are why my mother won’t speak to my father and why my brothers hate each other Because when you came along and obliterated the love I was left alone. But thank you, I can say, For you have been my only constant. Realize by Rhea Swim Last summer my mother drove me to a new idea. A new thought, A new realization. I come from a place where there are more than fifty trees per person And the mountains that seem to be reaching for the heavens. Creeks roll into rivers that are full of salmon and steel-head. A world that seems like a paradise. A place that seems to prove against the rumors of climate change. Up until a faithful journey to a place of shock and disparity. Who knew that a simple trip can shake up the minds of two young kids? From a place so plentiful with trees to a land that seemed to have been dead for years. Miles upon miles of dead grass, dry land, and telephone poles. Hot, dry wind dances like glass shards across my face. That's when I realized that this is why people are worried, Realized that this is what we are doing to this planet. Realized that this is what we need to fix. More and more animals are being poached and hunted each day. Rivers and lakes are bleeding out with panic to meet our extreme demands. And we are more focused on our lives to see it coming. Whether it's grades, money, or even spending a bloody good picking out a shirt you'll only wear once. We keep worrying that we are not looking for this world. But maybe we should realize that maybe this world isn't long for us. GLARE by Jazmine Fielder I live on the surface of glass But you cannot break me I ruin your photographs I am bright People hide behind my shining shimmer Without knowing me as their shield I can be mild Or incredibly strong Causing everything in my path to turn away I have no body to inhibit So I dance across windows, mirrors, and photos You cannot phase me for I will not listen I will only dance on Rainbow by Jazmine Fiedler pulsing through our veins sexy, plastic shoes fruit: red is juicy poisonous and sweet A ladybug lying on a mushroom becomes flaming hair sly yet bright and hot. Foxy. it’s texture, a repetition of minuscule indentations food disguised as flora sour fading into a smile stemming from pure joy blinding sunlight A crunchy bell pepper grows beside a yellow marigold it’s roots grow deep Screaming: “Life!” hidden beneath the wilted stems everyone is an evergreen tree An ugly shirt stuffed beneath its peers worn once a year: saint Patrick's day Earth with never overcome Ocean and the expansive sky way we live and breath in the artificial light pouring from our computers Or the rough texture of the Canadian jumpsuit The unassuming cool conflicts with the expecting lines lying on a 27 floor bunk bed With lavender scented pillows and a bouquet of bell-flowers sitting on the nearby table Purple is an ending like the violet clouds at sunset |
~ Poetry Archive 2017-2018 ~
Depression
by Madeline Lassiter-Chavarria We all have them inside, hidden, fire burning within. An urge to scream, yell, bring noise to the surface, Share it with the outside world. Hear me, see me. Why am I hidden away, under a mask, why do I act a certain way, never the real me. Letting it out? ...anything out, will I be judged, criticized. Am I alone? Are there more of us? Speak to me. I will hear you. Does it ever leave,Will this sickness go,Do I need medicine, Is depression a disease? You can catch. Finally it’s gotten to a boiling point, I let it out a relief but sadness in an anger mask….slow, felt like never ending, pounding, screaming, tears in my eyes, blowing up on the wrong person, later realizing…… the hell by naz dickerson she has seen things she is not supposed to have seen things of nightmares, things grueling and obscene obscenity replaces her heart now things of obscenity expanding in the thoracic cavity putting pressure on the heart she lies there she lays in a cradle filled with bone marrow she lies to take the pressure off there is acid bubbling up the trachea she chokes she is gagging like a reflex she wants to forget there is a pool of acidic discharge on the floor and there are white walls in the room there are gray, fleshy walls in the head folded over and over she wishes for the absence of folds and the lack of surface area all of her neurons are sheathed but the room has no insulation she shivers they slammed fistedly demand answers she told them over and over blue collars swallow acid and regurgitate words they say she has done things of obscenity she is the fragmentation of her daydreams and the spawning of her nightmares it is obscene to be seen wearing clothes like that the heaven by naz dickerson the cascade of clear blue falls even in the midst of the furvous night the call of a bird echoes cross canyons composed of ages of old the glint off amber cliffs calls to the reflection of antiscience floors of sandstone riddled with stagnant ghosts of footprints these paths were once walked by those larger than life we search for purpose radiometrically endless estimations translate themselves into over-calculated, repetitive dating allowing our hearts to sink to an endless expanse of unexplored sediment grasping onto the aching for the pleasure beneath the pain self decay feels natural at the bottom of the ocean peace comes naturally while disappearing into pieces it will find me upon the return of the rouge daughter to the expanse in which she belongs may my atomic descendants one day hold the fossils of my being between their fingers let the earth shake under the feet of whom possesses my bones and let them keep digging, let them excavate all of us whole the hunt by naz dickerson her eyes reflect fractals of moonlight churning them smooth like butter and soft like gossamer he positions the barrel and holds it still one bang and her body still stands a canopy of resilience his face is pale he holds his breath he turns she staggers only when he has disappeared past the tree line an act of pride poorly executed she is alone an unsubstantiated death what is a life with no witness? if a doe falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it does it really make a sound? the harvest by naz dickerson the fruits of autumn cast doubtly shadows the noses of the cherubic youth upturned in anticipation of the sweetness which laps at the tongue the undeserved fruits of the labor of another the calloused hands of a laborer transiently caress their products palming them only to send to the palms of another to fill the stomachs that lie half full already to never satisfy the aches of those which are empty the heart beats in time with the plucking from branches the stomach turns itself over like orbs from trees to baskets mills clanking in pockets shadowed by bills and whips in smooth hands dirtied faces of fallen cherubs fall slender Cascading Sleep by Cecilia Ammon Sleeping dunes lay silent in the night Soft breathes blow low over swells Blistered fingers swirl idly, gently shifting sand before settling to stillness Exhausted and sore after a long day Heavy bodies recovering from being trampled on for so long Making the most of the quiet before it is gone Timidly tapping, the wind waits for attention But the dunes simply shiver, shaking off trails of footprints Stumbling around whispering to the stars The taunting sparkles merely twinkle above and the breeze quickly grows bored Turning back to the dunes the gusts shake the dunes till they wake Slowly, winds raise their voices to a howl Batting a hand, The dunes shoo at the wind, annoyed Slowly rolling over Not wanting to play The wind dies down for another day Fall Apart byTessa Nutter A burden bearing on your soul Take my heart and replace it with yours We meet again I know you want me back so don't just act like a friend I'm sorry for unleashing a side of me never meant to unveil This time this love won't end in betrayal Part of this World by Tessa Nutter I am young I am free I am strong and beautiful The river of life flows within me Im one with the hills A treasure of the sea I frolic amongst the redwoods To a song a melody inside me Sing it softly, with your words Give me you and I'll give you my world Contemporary Haiku by Tessa Nutter Delicate forcefield Surrounding my touch, On my skin water beads form. Waka by Tessa Nutter Each step a swift breeze Slowly running through my hair, The cold chills my face, Each hair now behind my ears, My lips curl into a smile. Traditional Haiku by Tessa Nutter Toes sink in the dirt, Walking beneath the redwoods, Magical moist air Hokku by Tessa Nutter A hot radiant warmth beams on my skin, Standing motionless shining above us, The sun Rewind by Tessa Nutter I have myself at the end of every day, like a Tight ring grasping my finger, I rely on my relationship with myself to never fail me I thought I knew myself, but two girls know me a hell of a lot better. I count on myself to be strong, but I’ve never had to be alone. Tonight my oldest sister calls me and I tell her how hard this poem has been for me To write about her and Daisy, she told me to focus on the hardest part, being alone, As she chuckled, little did she know the time she had thought the phone call had broken up I had actually been crying, wishing we could rewind to a Day with both of my sisters, all of us together making an average day much better. Yet then my thoughts lead to remind myself That for the next two years their bedrooms will be empty, and I Will only be able to recall the memories rather than reliving a Time, an era of happiness. Even through all the fighting, we seem to only better Each other and remember the best times of our lives, the people that built me, shaped my personality, educating me more than any let alone any class ever will teacher let alone any. I like to think of myself Of my own best supporter, allowing myself to breath and live my own life, but my sisters give me something much better; The opportunity to be a part of their lives and walk in a Pattern of footsteps made by worn out converse and leather boots, I Have big shoes to fill here at home being alone And my parents are counting on me To make this easier once they have both left and it’s just the three of us alone. I continue to sit at my computer, trying to comprehend which feeling is better, The next years of the few short visits and the summers we share that I will appreciate every minute they give me More than anything, or back when we were little running around without a Single thought that could possibly worry us, both, I will forever carry inside myself. To better Your life, I’ve learned myself, to spend your limited hours surrounded by a Few special people. The last lesson hit me, When my whole life, my sisters were by my side, and like a snap of the fingers they're gone, I Realize that you never miss your sisters till you're all alone. At the end of the day I can always call my sisters, But when I’m by myself I can never Go back to a day we’re all together and just hit rewind. White Walls by Tessa Nutter White walls illuminate the sunlight, the rays bounce off your cheek And shine in my eyes, I follow the light; flourishing beauty and elegance, Youth and wonder, curious what the world has to offer once you escape the classroom Your eyes tell a story that soft smile is contagious Put under a spell I’m blindsided by your move it was outrageous Painting my own bedroom the glow reminds me of you and your white walls My room no longer lingers in your scent You give me memories of joy but they are burnt I give you your old t-shirts You’re lucky they aren’t burned We both move on in our own directions Your colors have changed and before you know it you’ll have to face your mistakes Before you know it you’ll be thrown into a crazy battle called the world with an education as your weapon and a body as your home base Your competitors won’t like your ambition to never give up and your companions will hold on to be encouraged by it Your location will change it may seem like an uncomfortable place But before you know it you’ll be on to the next path with more ways to turn and choices to make There will be more places to run and hide from that expanding comfort zone of yours That holds all your potential, afraid what it can do, afraid what it can’t But fear will only cause corruptions If you don’t speak your mind your views will only be blinded Your voice needs to be heard Your song needs to be sang Whatever you do best do it now or forever hold your peace Hold your applause This generation is on pause To caught up in a game Stop trying to gain fame Rest in peace A person I could tell anything You used to put me at peace Now I can’t put this busy mind to sleep Rest in peace oh please just rest in peace The thought of you takes me straight to hell rest in peace You’d bring me up when all I thought I could do is sink down Now that confidence rests in peace I put myself at ease Knowing a trail of regret doesn’t follow me every step I’ve put my efforts to win you over to rest I know you’ll feel it one day But for now rest in peace You come back to me a year later Your tears are real Your words reek or regret All I can do is accept I knew this was coming at some point Though your apology snuck up from behind A year later and a light bulb turned on in your mind You can see now it’s finally light Stuck in the dark now your walls are back to white you wouldn’t know what to do if I was dead Caught up in a game You finally quit Now I just have to choose if I want to forgive or forget Thank you for all you have taught me Only wanting me when I’m at my best Your presence is a burden This friendship is a tease So until you put me at ease your white walls will rest in peace Trust Your Broccoli by Tessa Nutter You get more of an understanding when you read. More like listening in my case. Ann Lamont's guide to save the world in instruction like words. But flowing format that eventually dragged along to rewind, Rewind right to where it started, A looping mary go round of put together thoughts, Condensed into advice Based off learning experiences. Teaching a creative take Hold your ground. Don’t conform to what's comfortable, Take off from that platform and see where your stories take you And when you land who knows what you’ll do Just don't forget to document your personal experience In anyway possible, But make sure it's your own, just like Ann’s own, Her masterpiece that some will take for granted, Bird by Bird. |
She is Buried, Never to Surface Again
by Cassandra Guy At first she stood with compelling rectitude. Slowly, time grew, impressions dissipated. Was this appearance harmed or was it fated? As her image fades, I kept holding near. Watching friend turn to foe, my greatest fear. After years of regarding, true colors show. I could stand no more, I must let her go. Ignoring the signs was never the answer. Ignored them too long, it became cancer. Should of known when it began to appear. Though the wave of grief was not wanted here. The pain of loss itself, stopped me, caused fright. For her return I waited, frantic, I stood. Though it was never her, so she never would. Beyond Black by Cassandra Guy Beyond the black, Further out more into the Sightless sea Rest a light full of Exuberance and peace. This light is what we all long for, But apart of it we all forget. For this light could not exist without it’s Shadowing commitment. Silent Fog by Cassandra Guy Eyes once shut become open. There isn't much that can be seen. Fog covers every inch of the setting. Mist fills the air, lightly resting upon the skin and heavily reentering each taken breath. It is cold, but among one's chest lies a burning sensation of the unknown. It’s too bright to be night but yet to dark to be day. The feeling of existence held within the grounds of this place is filled with uncertainty. There is nothing to be done, but to stare in search for a glimpse sight of answers. Nothing can be seen other than the color of grey that floats in the fog, and nothing can be heard beyond the ringing of uneasy silence. Artistic Remains in Natures Tomb by Cassandra Guy Crystal veins Leave a stain Upon the rotting flesh. Placed in quietus Yet bring life that is Glowing in the rain. Laying with in a cave Light seeping through shaves Reveals allure in slumber. Lost to not be found Charming compulsion with the ground The glow reflecting off the umber. Art still left unmark The cavern’s decaying spark With veins that glimpse of thunder. Here lies a perishing girl Who’s beauty shall leave the world Yet shall remain contained, under. What Has Seemed by Allyson Boltzen We are not our past, nor are we our present. We are shining stars, illuminating the future. We are the path that leads down an unknown road, and for some, we are the only light they follow. Through acts of kindness, justice, and hope, we walk down this small path that we have named, “the road.” Through these darkened clouds we have shined; for what has seemed like eternity, our happiness has been evanescent, fleeting. No longer may we claw at the ground, desperately crawling forward. We stand tall. Stress by Allyson Boltzen The world turns slowly orange The numbers on my screen flash forward, The minutes passing by like seconds. The pressure of a test. The pressure to do my best. The need for rest. The disdain of stress. Keyboard clacking. Nail biting. Inner screaming. Grade checking. Life reflecting. One night out of a million, And my mind is too busy with the future, To see the present and the time. 23:22. One Year by Micah Kalis It's been a year and it still feels like it happened just the other day it got me thinking out by the bay and now i'm feeling gray now all i can do is pray and now your far far away now i can't say hey now we all have to pay now i feel like running away and i feel like i give away and all we wanted to say was have a good day today is your day Ode to Adobe by Jazmine Fiedler Earth, water, straw, Sand, silt, and clay. Smooth, even creamy when wet. I can take you in my hands, Mold you into whatever I want As man does. The summer comes and goes, You dry. You are strong. Desert Dwellers take refuge Within the walls of an Adobe home. Critters crawl into the cracks And the years fly by, And for the first time I am exposed to the desert. And I am grateful for my grandparents’ adobe home. The sandy color, The rough texture. I lean on the wall and breath in. It smells old and rustic. On one of the walls my height Is scratched into the dry mud. In the summer we’d jump From the top of the sand sculpture Into my grandpa's slimy blow-up swimming pool. On christmas eve we’d climb a rickety ladder And get up on top the short roof. We’d place luminarias on top of the adobe home Like lights on a christmas tree. And now Four years after my grandpa Kurt’s death The adobe home isn't quite as magical As it used to be. Lies and Truth by Kyuss Anderson Staring blank into an unknown truth The promise of existence Or the lie of eternal youth The pain is always persistent Pounded into the concrete The young boy screams No reason for the beating Destroying the stitched seams The man responsible Is no man at all Broken by the father The young boy learns to crawl To crawl into the world Without a place to call his home Bought into the fear Forever to roam alone The truth in his fists And the lies in his head Without a reason to exist His brain accepts the lead Kings on the backs Of those promised life Stabbed in the back With your own god damned knife If all men are created equal Then what’s the point of judgement Brought down by a weak will With nothing left to repent Quick to jump the gun In this pre-apocalyptic wasteland With nowhere to run You become the unplanned Weapons of mass destruction The power only known by god No purpose for construction When you are the outlawed The over-controlling Has no more control Heads start rolling As chaos soon unfolds Trying to dampen the fire By using gasoline Caught by barbed wire Fed to the machine The tragedy unfolds When demons sing The bombs will explode When you kill the king The ruling class Becomes the underclass In a nation built on lies Fighting for something And dying for someone The truth becomes your mind No longer a person Just an empty shell The pain will only worsen Welcome to hell The eternal furnace A never ending flame Trapped in the circus And you’re the one to blame Living a nightmare The dream is dead The mindless shall stare When demons blood is shed Eye for an eye Are the words you live by But how can you live When your world has gone blind Blind from the truth Eyes towards the lies Taken from your youth Hiding from your own disguise Breathing for life And living for death At the edge of the knife You take your last breath Memories don’t die, you did by Serrena Abrey I remember what pain feels like as a child I remember the blood coming to the skin and the shriek as you run to your mom But this was different If there was blood, you couldn't see it The pain didn’t stay central in one place It evaded through my veins to my heart, where it sent aches into my body The cloud of undeveloped coping mechanisms left me in a bath One scream after the next, searching for a way to teach my lungs to breathe again The first shot I took minutes after convincing myself her name was written on the glass In her hand writing with the t dripping down in smerred finger paint Telling the story less often told Afraid to speak the unspoken we didn’t learn how to cope in school We weren’t taught how to react just to act like you were fine God forbid you show what your feeling, the same feelings everyone else feels They didn’t teach us about Judith Barsi or Johnny Lewis They never mentioned Sammi kane kraft or Rob Knox Or how their families ached for their children when they were taken away to young People feel And feel And feel and somehow do it all over again every day When we love it creates undivided happiness But when we hurt It cracks bones and reopens scars It takes away the currency of love that we’d offered Back when breathing came easy Lost in breathless confusion, I searched for her Searching for a sense of connection Left searching for the clothes she’d never grow out of, On the journey I never met with her angel telling me everything's gonna be okay The hurt never lessened like they told me it would and her smile didn't stop drawing tears Who wrote the book about death? The guilt came and hugged my insecurities but she never did I saw her face every breath every dream i heard her cry that’d I’d deny, while I whispered the goodbye I never got to say Who told others one day they’d be able to sleep at night knowing that there’s some people that can’t be saved Who’s incharge of the car taking a life from a two year old baby begging mom to breathe again I never asked for this I didn’t have to stare eye to eye with a gun to know the torture of death and what it does to someone I saw pain in a body losing life I saw a mother and father’s pain as they wept over the unspeakable Silence Curing the words that can’t be expressed curing the feelings we are so deeply afraid to feel Yet the inevitable physical pain catches up to you no matter how fast we run and just when we least expect it it tumbles over us and makes us question everything we’ve ever felt If what’s inside us is the important part I’m full of the darkness I hide from but now it’s harder than just turning the light on It’s harder running from the air when the wind blows her smile through my hair, through my empty beating soul wanting someone else to belong to My heart softens to the lullaby i’d sing to her back before I wore her ashes as a necklace My mind tells me to push through but it’s the same voice that turns into her cry at night asking me to hold her That’s what heartbreak does, that's what loss does, it tears every piece of your compassion, strips every pain and graises across every fear then leaves you begging for an easy way out Test after test your memories try and save you from remembering the stuff that consumes you It allows you to forget a bond being made It doesn’t let you forget the blood the tears that happen after You may forget what it feels to be made happy by that person But it doesn’t allow you to forget the agony of standing over the blood stain left in the driveway While you ask yourself how the hell you got out of bed this morning More Light by Caitlin Murphy I admire the sun The sun, most beautiful when it rises Over the ocean through the trees I’ve always thought I loved sunsets more than sunrises Only until I began to appreciate their strengths It’s not only the way the light fragments off the clouds It’s not the effortless way they turn a blue slate into a painting It’s not the yellows, the pinks and the oranges You can admire their beauty But it hurts to look directly at them For me, It’s the way the light reflects Off the same ocean that wants nothing more Then to drown it Yet unbothered Instead The sunrise illuminates the world, making a masterpiece A masterpiece that wouldn't exist without more light Shining brighter and brighter. More light Muddy rain puddles, after the sun Concerned about the small and big things Things get better And worse as the days drag on Feeling the weight at ease A blow on my chest send tears reeling to my eyes Feeling numbing blue And bright lilac Then ferocious red I thought yellow was ruined forever You don’t dive back into the ocean knowing you’re used to the water I pour over stories of simplistic joy But the room is empty Saving space for unspoken dreams And what they could’ve been Party of one I wonder why the best people die But if i were to walk into a garden i would pick the most beautiful flower Yellow, your favorite color You grow old just to watch everyone die you sit back and wilt just like every beautiful Tulip, sunflower or rose, they’re taken from the garden Things get better And worse as the days drag on Emotions and colors and light The world sleeps Restlessly in bed But i stay awake dreaming Dreaming Of more light More light |
~ Poetry Archive 2016-2017 ~
Ignorance is bliss
by Finnley Bourne In life there is a lot of sadness and pain Agaze on the world and see humans in chain As new babies are born without available food the oppressive governments censor the populous to keep them subdued Ashore there is strewn a wealth of dying sea life Radical increase in pollution was the cause of this strife The open stretch of forests are coming to an end The delicate ecosystem may never mend Across the sea thousands die as war rages on Children bide their time now that their parents are gone Stereotypes about race gender and religion create a division in our society More and more believe there is a lack in our variety This first world culture has less suffering than the rest of humankind Few of us all await for change or instead put the pain out of our mind Nobody wants to ask about these hardships or to know about the despair There’s many more issues worse than yours, so rethink your troubles and stay aware Trampoline Shoes by Nicole Pastori i've fallen and i can't get up. and before i go on, go ahead and pretend to fall down stairs and laugh. i know that's what i would do too. but think deeper than childish humor. ponder the statement. "i've fallen and i can't get up" i could be talking about having bad hips and tumbling down stairs, or i could be talking about falling out of good and not being able to get out of the dark, sludge of bad. because i have fallen. i've been on a constant free fall for a while now, and no matter how many branches i try to hang on to, nothing can hold the weight that carries on my shoulders and the heaviness of my mind. while falling to what i thought was an inevitable squish, i had a lot, or a little, time to think about what i can do to help myself before the voices died in my mind forever. and i did think for a long time. my whole life to be exact. i've spend my whole life smoothing my fall, trying not to cannonball to the end. and, pardon my French, but damn was it hard not to just to mumble "screw it," and tuck in my knees and just let everything that drove me crazy go away. but, twist ending, i know. somewhere in the silence, courage showed it's radiant face and gave me a pair of trampoline shoes so when i do hit rock bottom, i can jump right back up for a while. the metaphors are a little much, i know, but how else do you describe being so close to the bottom but having something so simple to jump back for a while? well, trampoline shoes. so, i've fallen... but i know myself better now than to hit rock bottom forever. The Medicine We Shouldn’t Have by Emilie Silk Music is my medicine. It heals the pain with one stroke of a bow. It makes things clear with one single note. One little sound. The music makes colors flow through my head, blues, reds, whites, yellows, greens, and blacks. Music makes me feel, songs behind the colors, a wordless story, with dreams untold. Addictive rhythms that cannot stray too far from the melody, course through the player's mind. Music makes things easier, emotions overtake. Sadness does not enter unless there is a deep dragging sound. The tempo gets stronger and the players add in with more concentration. Anger is present there. Here are less notes, less competing factors, the music is a soft light melody. It makes me happy. But it fails to stay. There will comes a time, a day, where music is not around. I panic, start to find things that aren't the same. Things that don’t heal the pain. Art. Pen to paper and, paint is just a phase. It cannot fix what I am, like music can. It does not replace what I want, what I crave to feel. I. Need. More. Music. Notes wrap around me, and my thoughts are frazzled. Music makes me sane, I can’t get enough of it. I fight for it, pay lots of people to get what I want. Basses, tubas, horns, clarinets, anything will do, but, I. Need. My. Music. It makes things easier. It heals my pain with one stroke of a bow. It makes things clear with one single note. Yes, music is my medicine, but so is Adderall and Methenamine. Shadows by Makayla Bernald Where do shadows come from? They come from dead family members. Who is that shadow? My shadow is my grandpa. At night, he hides under my pillow. In the rain, he hides under an umbrella. In the sun, he’s on the ground. I am not a shadow, grandpa is the shadow. |
Sincerely Departed by Ava Tramblie Take me into your spiteful grip Hold me tight then let me slip Kill me with another word Crush me like a broken bird Pitiful as the heart that relents Empty as the soul that vents I lose my voice I lose my love It’s not a choice It’s not a drug Squeeze me until I’m good and cold Don’t lose my ashes in jars of gold My pain is not transparent You’re transparent Clear as day All but blame and bitterness have withered away Serve me up unsalted and unbuttered I have not suffered as you’ve suffered There’s not much to gain through proclamations of pain besides a sorrow so vain as mine Don’t pity me, I can do that myself just fine Little drummer boy by Hunter Jacobs A kid of rhythm a drum beating breathing every stroke fitting in bouncing around past every note in sink like a blink a kid of rhythm heartbeat in every note Potent drops of acoustic knowledge Something a kid of rhythm likes to acknowledge I'm not sure by Hunter Jacobs Deep thinker heart shaker Mixed emotions full of notans Books and books that make no sense on the outside But you know damn well there's meaning within The rooms painted over time Slowly overflowing Showing worth in the words of the deep thinker Spiraling deeper and deeper Page after page Wall after wall Until the day i fall Posters by Hunter Jacobs The grid of life is not skin and bone Not dirt and stone It's the masterpiece within The emotion The notion What we don't hear What we do It's a pattern so infinite So unexplained Yet sustained Sweet haze trance by Hunter Jacobs There's a room there's that old broom in the corner Brussels that turn into the dust i have to sweep Leaving the floor open to what is really me At least only what they can see in this room Filled with memories in form of that homey feeling Familiar? Empty faces soon introduced Comfort like i know i'm going back Untitled by Kaidden Hansen I am the survivor of life the survivor of fear and hate I am the one who fought for myself I am the one who made me who I am the one who shaped my soul and mind I am the one with no heart I am the one who loved without being loved I am the one who hasn't died yet Untitled by Kaidden Hansen When I feel love it's a dream A dream that I wish was true When I'm loyal others are not A loyalty that only exists in my mind When I feel accomplished it's just a feeling A feeling that is rarely felt When I'm happy it gets torn apart Torn apart by life and all its demons Untitled by Kaidden Hansen I'm dead inside I'm stripped to the bone of love and feelings I'm built on hate and anger When I stand I want to fall When I fight I want to fail When I fight it's fake Then I look for something Then I give up to that something Then I fail in everything Hated by myself Hated by others Hated by life |
~ Poetry Archive 2015-2016 ~
Fate, Love, Pain, Death by Ciel Eannarino By birth we were bound together, by fate Traveling through time, never knowing the other Heading toward a destination, waiting for something to happen One waiting for adventure, the other bound by death Never giving up on either, they come face to face They were bound for great things, you and him Both had a sound body, mind, and soul You and him, did everything for the other When one was hurt, the other stood by him, never leaving Their bond was stronger together, you and him When one moves, the other moves You breath, he breathes, you share the same air Breathing in the scent of each other Where you go, i go Love is painful and graceful, for you and him Love intoxicating one, the other is heaven Not able to face his love, willing to embrace it with his heart One surrounded by darkness, while the other hugs the light But they both love the same person They can’t get her image out of their minds One hides his emotions for her from the other One spends the rest of his life for her, til death Love is a punishment that melts at one’s soul for one The other thinks love is a gift as fragile as a snowflake Frozen in the shadows of the past, for you Moving through space as a falling star, for him Pain is undeniably hard for both who seek a cure An unending labyrinth of despair To end this pain, they need to look in themselves Pain will follow them where they go Look for themselves and find out what pain can do Ceasing to exist, like a lifeless bird falling from the sky Death will come and go for you and him When the time comes you will find each other in another realm Death is as painful to look at like mr. hyde You are as dear to him as another half of thy soul But death will part thee and me Even if they swore to stay together “Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from Following after thee:for whither thou goest, i will go” Now i need thy to do for me what i cannot do for thyself For you to be thy eyes when i do not have them For you to be thy hands when i cannot use them For you to be thy heart when mine is done with beating I cannot leave you here alone, says will I am not alone, wherever we are,we are as one, say jem When we rise or fall, we do it together Our bond is stronger together than apart After death we will be closer than before What Happened After You Left by Mia Shope Like rum on the fire You built my flame higher And even when your poison burnt away The inferno scorched on But I held onto you anyway that I could The sheets haven’t been washed Since your body took up the empty space beside me Because I can’t bring myself to wash away your lingering scent Your half empty shampoo bottle still sits in my shower Just waiting for your return And I still burn your favorite candle every night Because you said the smell made you feel at home How come a candle can do that And I can’t God and Satan (Opposing Concept Performance Poem) by Mia Shoppe & Madii Bazard (sneezes) Bless you F*** you I go by many names. Lucifer, Satan, the devil, the dark lord, Beelzebub, Donald Trump…. Welcome to my fabulous underworld party, it’s a few thousand degrees The darkness in my heart could fill a few oceans and seas. I’m the king of hell, the ruler of evil. They call me christ, savior, author of life, I bring goodness, blessings and light. Praise me in your great cathedrals, but using my name in vain is lethal. Goat sacrifices, cat skulls, pentagrams, blood. I’m having more fun down here in hell than you’ll ever have up above. Why resist temptation when you can have a sin party in eternal damnation? My foil is lucifer, who I hope you don't meet in the near future. Your mind he will mangle, if you follow my first fallen angel Hitler and Stalin were just a taste, and you saw how quickly people made haste. Live with me in my kingdom of sanctity, or fall into the pit and lose your sanity. Faith, grace and charity, repent and you will have clarity. Don’t trust him, listen to me, he is the darkest part of yourself you should never see. Don’t let his charm cloud your vision, He’s the one that’s the greatest villain. You like to think that you’re better than everyone a holy divine being with infinite power Yet you’re the one who thinks pride is a sin. If you were a mortal and you died if you actually followed your own rules You’d come join me down in hell I’m imperfect, it is true, I made one mistake and it was creating you. I condemned you to hell, when you began to rebel. My most beautiful creation, and you denied salvation. Your pride let you think you could win, and you wonder why I made it a sin. Now you try and tempt my people, even the ones who sit under my steeple. I create flowers and sunsets, and you make people your little minion pets. Don’t let his charm cloud your vision, He’s the one that’s the greatest villain. Well you thought I was perfect back in the day before I broke your silly little rules and you cast me away to hell Because you’re god and whatever you say goes, right? And anyone who challenges your authority you crush with your wrath. You know that it's not true, the angel I loved most was you. All I ever wanted was for you to succeed, but instead you were controlled by greed. You’re the one who tried to overpower me, I don’t know how you turned into such a monstrosity. I shun people for the same sins you commit, because we can't have another you in our midst. Monstrosity? Do you speak of yourself? Despite the fact that I’m Satan, the antichrist, the embodiment of evil and everyone thinks you’re the essence of goodness there’s been more blood spilled in your name then there has ever been in mine. Thousands of people slaughtered in the crusades. Bombs, knives and guns await the non-believers. All that ever died for me was a couple of goats. You’re followers are the ones who damn people to hell for being gay as if love could ever be a sin. You send people to my kingdom for gluttony, anger, lust, pride because anything that makes you happy is a sin. Don’t let his charm cloud your vision, He’s the one that’s the greatest villain. I love my creations, every single one, no matter what they've done. All the violence was never my intention, it just keeps spreading like an infection. Trying to redeem the perfect world I created, but slowly the perfection dissipated. It started with Adam, Eve, and the apple, now nobody even reads the bible. Your precious little bible was written by humans your laziness caused so much misinterpretation you can't just write your own damn book because then the humans will realize you exist and you don't want that you elusive, mysterious dirt clod. Humans speak for the voice I lack, you benighted maniac. I cannot be blamed for ignorance, understanding the bible does not take brilliance. It is my sacred and holy word, and to disrespect it is absurd. I want people to know I am real, that is the whole point of this ordeal. I cannot just show my face for them to see, they must prove their faith in me. And what good did faith in you ever do? What is the point of prayer when it cannot heal our sick, dying world. I don't ask for your faith. I don't want your devotion. You give false hope. I offer just the facts You are nothing but a beautiful lie. I’m all about brutal honesty. Although I am Satan I could never be as evil as YOU. You conniving, heartless snake! You smelly, arrogant ass. Egocentric oaf! You stupid boob! Unlettered fool! You sniveling, whiny prick! Bastard! (frustrated growls) Amen! God damn! Untitled by Michael Bishop My heart beats as the rhythm transpires through the allegro of eternity. And the sound of siren song plays fortissimo until silence induces all. My heart beats as the rhythm transpires an arpeggio scattering a vast sea of dreams. And legato is projected, bringing it all back to you. |
For I Am Death by Ava Tramblie I am a well kept promise A truth so intangible, you may only grasp me with small glances into the cold eyes of loss My possessive nature may have already clued you in on how very relentless I am How all things warm and cold, kind and cruel, writhing and still, are sworn to me I am sure you, like most would rather titer on the the indecisive sway of pleasure and agony otherwise known as life You might try in vain to cling to your flesh inforced dwelling while an uncertainty almost as old as myself teases along your every breath You would prefer this in place of the finality I so generously offer Excuse me, not offer I have never been a mere offer I am an unavoidable outcome I am the last threshold so graciously full of tolerance for all those treading on fast, slow, or even hesitant footsteps leading into my embrace That being said I would not advise mistaking my patience for stupidity Don’t insult me with foolish aspirations, nothing is immortal Even I will one day vanish as the last of everything else does For I am Death, the gateway to oblivion and once Life and all it’s repugnant beauty has come to know me I too will cross over into nothingness For All My Muses
by Sara Robertson For all my muses Those who must not be named It was both a tragedy and a comedy And as a very intelligent friend once said It was a dance between two lovers Thank you Giving Up On Love by Sara Robertson I’ve decided to stop wishing for love Or rather waiting It's kind of like waiting for a shooting star to go by After gazing and dreaming for so long After all the zodiacs have passed And you have already ticked them off your check list I’ve hung off a ledge And love was a rope I couldn’t reach so many times The disappointment though Is far different than heartbreak It's a deeper feeling An insatiable ache And maybe that's why the lonely ones can never stop Loneliness is insatiable until it is fulfilled But when it is It is far more beautiful than the shooting stars combined For when we whisper in each other's ear “I love you to the moon and back” We say those words just to give a meaning To something we simply cannot fathom ourselves Writing by Sara Robertson I like writing because if you can get your words to say what your feel exactly It's quite an art It's that welling feeling in your chest Like the ocean Some poems will leave you searching for a hopeless ending And some will leave you beached Some will sink Some will swim Some are like the foam Light and airy They will make you cry And others are like the depths Where we really don’t know what’s going on until it’s exposed Some writers toil long and hard on what to write And when they finally come out with it Its as simple as - this is me Or the daily humor And they roll with it Just as simple as the tides Untitled (spoken word) by Sara Robertson The stars opened up to a milky way Like a smile Their dimples glistening So everyone could see Just how beautiful Your smile really is I would pull down the stars Put them in a glass jar By the millions And give them to you But to keep them in that glass jar Or to keep them in the night sky That's one hell of a question We stick pins in the things we think are beautiful And put them on the wall for display But the smart ones put them on the shelf To be worshiped You see You always cease to amaze me Like the wonders of the world cease to amaze The beautiful people of this nation And I’m sorry that I cannot be the colors To your sky Or the anesthetic to your veins When you need it the most I’m sorry that I could not be the breeze To help you take flight But one cannot be all of that. Rather I was the river that cut into the banks of the beautiful forest And I was the blue jay that stole the eggs I was the ground squirrel that dug the holes that were ever so treacherous It was like grasping at the strands of angel hairs Because one minute you were there And the next minute you were gone So I’m ready for honest I’m ready for listening I’m ready for a smile of stars lit up above me of compassion Don’t just give me the stars Give me the planets One expects to walk across the floor Without it falling Out beneath them There just might be a broken soul Behind that door you're pounding on And if you open it Maybe all your flames will come bursting in And if I open it all of mine will wash over you Leaving me in a state of fury and thunder Sadness and wishing We could only love again Or some great wind would come and twist me up Right into your arms But that won’t happen Because you’ll never have the chance to give me the planets I turned out to be Only four pages in your whole novel Of broken hearts And whatever else it may be And that’s okay with me With you I was the mist In the mountains Forever fading and only temporary Even transparent Soon falling helplessly on to Every living thing So- I choose to be the colors To someone else’s sky The anesthetic to someone else’s veins When they need it the most I’ll be the breeze To help us take flight I’ll pull down the stars Put them in a glass jar By the millions And give them to him Maybe it’ll be like two great pieces of an Egyptian puzzle And the tides will come crashing in I’ll know him when I see him We would get Finer with age Like fine wine, violins, or George Strait Because he says it the best And when we danced We wouldn’t just dance We’d sway like a eucalyptus in the breeze Or a dandelion On the breaking point of adventure He’ll leave me suspended In a constant state Between love and infatuation Like a heart drawn onto a tree We’ll be comfortable Like 6 a.m. bed sheets After the alarm clock rings Like notes passed in class And a cheeky grin Except any words I have For him Will be written on my sleeve But most of all I will be just enough By being me Because food is sacred and one should never eat it alone And the other half of the bed should never be cold And the house should never be completely silent I choose to cultivate another beautiful forest Move into a different nest And cover your treacherous tunnels and leave them in the past Summer’s Cherry Wine by Sara Robertson The tides of her breathing slowed But we knew she would be fine For this is how life worked For in the spring earth gave us life Breathing beautifully Alive in every sense In the summer she gave us wine to celebrate Sweet cherry wine Red to stain with happiness In the fall she gave us streamers to cover the lands with color Color that covered the ground when the winds blew And in the winter She took it all away. Life and Death by Sara Robertson One day life fell in love with death She loved how death saw all the beautiful opportunities in people He loved how life could give people happiness They flirted day after day Back and forth With cheeky grins They would send gifts And vowed to keep them forever They walked hand in hand When life painted her sunset across the sky Death watched it as he erased it from the sky One pigment after the next When the little animals tried to fly in the spring Life blew her breath Some flew and did all right But death took some into his loving arms He took care of them down there He told life it would be alright Life would grow a seed into a beautiful tree And death decided to turn them into beautiful colors Life was ecstatic Life would hover over the overjoyed grandparents in the hospital But death would take away fathers on battle fields Life would save little girls puppies But death would swiftly take the moving deer Life would try save the man high on the skyscraper But death would take his life For this they grew apart And so you have life and death. |
~ 2014-2015 Poetry Archive ~
Poverty
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Open Mind, Open Heart.
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Untitled
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I’ve seen both sides.
Rich. Poor. Everything. Nothing. |
My eyes are heavy,
But my mind is open. I am a cloud walker. I am a light seeker. I live for love. I live for peace. I live for joy. |
My mind says yes,
My heart says no, My mind says don’t let her go, My heart says to move on, My mind is focused on one, My heart feels for another, My mind thinks of the past, My heart beats for the future, My mind remembers memories, My heart lusts for another’s touch. |
The Utopia
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I Believe
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Caged Bird
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We Are Young and Dumb
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Where to Now?
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Purpose
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Love
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I'm Searching
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Our Country's Heroes
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The Stars that Shine
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It Was an Unknown World
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An Ode to Netflix
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