By Max Zats
I jumped into the placid waters
bracing the cold on the hot summer day.
I took a few strokes, and looked behind me.
The hot summer heat waves were clearly visible.
As I dove underwater,
I immediately entered a kingdom ruled by fish.
All of them swimming with a purpose,
as if they were late for work, or coming back to their families.
I suddenly become aware of a pain in my side. I head back up for air.
As I am above water,
I cannot stop myself from thinking,
What goes on down there when nobody's watching?
Monday, April 20, 2009
Television
By Danny Yee
At first, it is black,
However,
With the push of a button,
It explodes with,
Color,
Greens, yellows, reds, blues,
And every color,
Imaginable,
The colors form and make pictures,
Sound resonates from the speakers,
Music, laughter, talking,
All kinds of sound come
From television,
Press another button,
And the pictures and sound change,
News, movies, sports…
Anything can be on television…
At first, it is black,
However,
With the push of a button,
It explodes with,
Color,
Greens, yellows, reds, blues,
And every color,
Imaginable,
The colors form and make pictures,
Sound resonates from the speakers,
Music, laughter, talking,
All kinds of sound come
From television,
Press another button,
And the pictures and sound change,
News, movies, sports…
Anything can be on television…
Steel Lover
By Kate Huneke
The first cut-
it wasn’t the deepest.
No, not at all.
It was like the others,
a subtle rend of
anxious skin, the gentle pulse
of crimson, just enough
to hush the demons
shrieking inside my brain.
But this time they wouldn’t
shut up. Just kept on howling, like my
unforgotten ghosts when they
were displeased and grieving.
Worst thing was, the older
I got, the more I began
to see how much I resembled
the shadowy creatures. They fell
in and out of the churning black
water, then lifted up into the white
clouds. Not high enough to feel satisfied.
We’re closer than I registered.
That day I actually
thought about screaming.
So I gave myself to the blade,
asked it to bit a little
harder, chew a little deeper.
The hot, scarlet rush
felt so delicious,
I couldn’t stop there.
The knife might have reached bone, but my brightest
star, floating on the ebony, sad velvet
layer of hate, barged into
the bathroom, found me leaning
against a loved one’s new marble
tub, turning it’s unstained
white pink.
You should have
seen his
light flicker, then go
out, like a
light bulb.
The first cut-
it wasn’t the deepest.
No, not at all.
It was like the others,
a subtle rend of
anxious skin, the gentle pulse
of crimson, just enough
to hush the demons
shrieking inside my brain.
But this time they wouldn’t
shut up. Just kept on howling, like my
unforgotten ghosts when they
were displeased and grieving.
Worst thing was, the older
I got, the more I began
to see how much I resembled
the shadowy creatures. They fell
in and out of the churning black
water, then lifted up into the white
clouds. Not high enough to feel satisfied.
We’re closer than I registered.
That day I actually
thought about screaming.
So I gave myself to the blade,
asked it to bit a little
harder, chew a little deeper.
The hot, scarlet rush
felt so delicious,
I couldn’t stop there.
The knife might have reached bone, but my brightest
star, floating on the ebony, sad velvet
layer of hate, barged into
the bathroom, found me leaning
against a loved one’s new marble
tub, turning it’s unstained
white pink.
You should have
seen his
light flicker, then go
out, like a
light bulb.
Death
By Danny Yee
There’s no way to avoid it
Yet people still try,
To avoid the clutches of death,
Eventually all of us,
Are taken,
By the cold claws of death,
Death conquers all,
Even the strongest of people,
Are taken by it,
Nobody knows,
How it is like,
Is it the vast emptiness?
Or full of joy?
You will only find out,
If death takes you…
There’s no way to avoid it
Yet people still try,
To avoid the clutches of death,
Eventually all of us,
Are taken,
By the cold claws of death,
Death conquers all,
Even the strongest of people,
Are taken by it,
Nobody knows,
How it is like,
Is it the vast emptiness?
Or full of joy?
You will only find out,
If death takes you…
Laughter
By Max Zats
What's better than laughing?
Whether its with friends
or by yourself.
You can find laughter
in the most random of times.
If it weren't for laughter,the world would be different.
What a sad, scary place it would be!
Laughter...the best thing ever!
What's better than laughing?
Whether its with friends
or by yourself.
You can find laughter
in the most random of times.
If it weren't for laughter,the world would be different.
What a sad, scary place it would be!
Laughter...the best thing ever!
Friday, April 17, 2009
Rat in a Cage
By E. Jadallah
Working your way out like a rat in a cage.
Doesn’t work when the bars are shut
When the bars are shut
You can’t get yourself out of the hole you dug.
When you can’t get yourself out of a hole,
It seems you filled yourself in.
When you realized your filled in
At the bottom of a hole it seems you’ve shut yourself in
You’ve shut yourself in
Like a rat in a cage.
Working your way out like a rat in a cage.
Doesn’t work when the bars are shut
When the bars are shut
You can’t get yourself out of the hole you dug.
When you can’t get yourself out of a hole,
It seems you filled yourself in.
When you realized your filled in
At the bottom of a hole it seems you’ve shut yourself in
You’ve shut yourself in
Like a rat in a cage.
Winter
By C. Burgess
Brilliant, ivory, bleached, snow,
Crunches deafeningly beneath the sable, coal-black sole of my boot,
As breath dances in a jovial circle, freely, before my eyes,
Icing, chilling, as if sitting in a freezer.
Winter.
I kicked my boot against the wall,
The flakes shaking off, like burdens descending from my shoulders,
As inside, the fire devoured wood, burning in the safety of its hearth,
And the warmth engulfed me, heating to the roots of my body.
Winter.
I press the tip of my nose against the glass, chilling, soothing, and tickling my senses,
Glazed breath fogging up the window,
And snowflakes lifelessly jingling down, settling atop a snowman.
Winter, so special.
Brilliant, ivory, bleached, snow,
Crunches deafeningly beneath the sable, coal-black sole of my boot,
As breath dances in a jovial circle, freely, before my eyes,
Icing, chilling, as if sitting in a freezer.
Winter.
I kicked my boot against the wall,
The flakes shaking off, like burdens descending from my shoulders,
As inside, the fire devoured wood, burning in the safety of its hearth,
And the warmth engulfed me, heating to the roots of my body.
Winter.
I press the tip of my nose against the glass, chilling, soothing, and tickling my senses,
Glazed breath fogging up the window,
And snowflakes lifelessly jingling down, settling atop a snowman.
Winter, so special.
Falling Leaves
By Henry Walker
As the falling leaves start to change so does the attitude of many others surrounding
them with love. The kids are unhappy school is in their lives yet again, and the
parents are happy to buy some free time for them. The leaves come in many
different shapes and sizes, many patters seen from the naked eye. Some are orange,
some are brown, some are purple, some are red, but still some are dead, gone in the
wind, no sounds something so beautiful gone in a flash. Yet the people walking by
don’t care nobody does, they are seen as just leaves but not to me I do not see them
small peas, they are much bigger than that, they feed the earth they keep the earth
beautiful.
As the falling leaves start to change so does the attitude of many others surrounding
them with love. The kids are unhappy school is in their lives yet again, and the
parents are happy to buy some free time for them. The leaves come in many
different shapes and sizes, many patters seen from the naked eye. Some are orange,
some are brown, some are purple, some are red, but still some are dead, gone in the
wind, no sounds something so beautiful gone in a flash. Yet the people walking by
don’t care nobody does, they are seen as just leaves but not to me I do not see them
small peas, they are much bigger than that, they feed the earth they keep the earth
beautiful.
Pointless
By Yasi Agah
This World today, slowly dying
The people I know are gone
Global Warming
Animal abuse
Horrible economy
What happened?
Carelessness,
Laziness,
and Stupidity
Has captured all humans
In an indestructible net
With no escaping
Trapped.
With no way out
Like prisoner
Is how I see
Our World today
No more common sense
No more love of our earth
What cruel lie
Bonded with our planet,
What occurred with the place we live
Destroyed all kind souls trying to help it
We haven’t gotten out of
This state of failure
Will you?
This World today, slowly dying
The people I know are gone
Global Warming
Animal abuse
Horrible economy
What happened?
Carelessness,
Laziness,
and Stupidity
Has captured all humans
In an indestructible net
With no escaping
Trapped.
With no way out
Like prisoner
Is how I see
Our World today
No more common sense
No more love of our earth
What cruel lie
Bonded with our planet,
What occurred with the place we live
Destroyed all kind souls trying to help it
We haven’t gotten out of
This state of failure
Will you?
Awakening
By David Ball
Awakening
Tear drops of the heavens
Delicately rolled off the blades of grass
Tiny heads jabbed out of tree trunks
Ravenous after a stormy night
An overpowering light arose
Allowing lost travelers to find their way
A minute stream developed into a river
While the darkness had overtaken
The blue sea above
Battled to prevent another attack
Awakening
Tear drops of the heavens
Delicately rolled off the blades of grass
Tiny heads jabbed out of tree trunks
Ravenous after a stormy night
An overpowering light arose
Allowing lost travelers to find their way
A minute stream developed into a river
While the darkness had overtaken
The blue sea above
Battled to prevent another attack
Soaring Giant
By Henry Walker
It soars through the air like a knife cuts through butter,
Never stopping always going. Looking around looking for food.
It finds little food still it doesn’t lose hope, it keeps going never
Loosing track of its goal.
It soars through the air like a knife cuts through butter,
Never stopping always going. Looking around looking for food.
It finds little food still it doesn’t lose hope, it keeps going never
Loosing track of its goal.
Time
By Gabe Valencia
The time when I ran down the street,
Is the time when bad thing rise
When I got mad
When I found out the truth
When I woke up on Mondays
When I ran onto the script of lies
When I started to realize
This was a little portion of what time gave me.
The time when I ran down the street,
Is the time when bad thing rise
When I got mad
When I found out the truth
When I woke up on Mondays
When I ran onto the script of lies
When I started to realize
This was a little portion of what time gave me.
The Tree
By Hannah Lambing
It’s raining.
I walk outside.
The rain pounds on my shoulders,
Massaging my back through my thin short sleeve shirt.
I sit down on the brick steps,
My shorts absorb the dew on the cool stairs.
I look out in front of me,
The tree at the head of the lawn staring back.
We silently communicate.
The tree introduces himself to me.
His name is Mr. Brown.
We chat for a while about the weather,
Commenting on the patterns of the clouds, the absence of the sun, and the rain.
Mr. Brown likes the rain.
He says it makes him feel energized.
The rain starts to lighten up and the sun shows its presence.
It is lunchtime now.
I could tell because the sun is directly about me,
Warming my damp clothes.
I hear my name being called from the front of the house for lunch.
I say my farewells to Mr. Brown and he says
“Bye for now.”
It’s raining.
I walk outside.
The rain pounds on my shoulders,
Massaging my back through my thin short sleeve shirt.
I sit down on the brick steps,
My shorts absorb the dew on the cool stairs.
I look out in front of me,
The tree at the head of the lawn staring back.
We silently communicate.
The tree introduces himself to me.
His name is Mr. Brown.
We chat for a while about the weather,
Commenting on the patterns of the clouds, the absence of the sun, and the rain.
Mr. Brown likes the rain.
He says it makes him feel energized.
The rain starts to lighten up and the sun shows its presence.
It is lunchtime now.
I could tell because the sun is directly about me,
Warming my damp clothes.
I hear my name being called from the front of the house for lunch.
I say my farewells to Mr. Brown and he says
“Bye for now.”
Dead
By Hannah Lambing
His hollow, lifeless eyes thrust into my face,
Then somehow examined my brain.
He created an image that endured in my mind
Showing a dog, an apple, and a tree.
It was impossible for him to frown,
Like a clown at a carnival.
The crooked smile was plastered to his face,
With no increase or decrease in his happiness.
It lay there motionlessly,
His enduring expression haunted me as the image lingered in my mind.
I wonder about this skull.
His previous life seemed to still exist in him,
Just stuck,
Without a way out.
His hollow, lifeless eyes thrust into my face,
Then somehow examined my brain.
He created an image that endured in my mind
Showing a dog, an apple, and a tree.
It was impossible for him to frown,
Like a clown at a carnival.
The crooked smile was plastered to his face,
With no increase or decrease in his happiness.
It lay there motionlessly,
His enduring expression haunted me as the image lingered in my mind.
I wonder about this skull.
His previous life seemed to still exist in him,
Just stuck,
Without a way out.
Piano
By Joweina Hsiao
Piano,
The black and the white and the black and the white,
Seem to sing a song.
I may not like to practice,
And I may not like some music,
But the people who regret,
Are the people who quit.
What is the magic about it,
That makes people regret?
Is it the achievement of playing a piece?
Or hearing people clap?
What is the reason why people regret?
The answer may be black and white,
Or maybe even grey.
Piano,
The black and the white and the black and the white,
Seem to sing a song.
I may not like to practice,
And I may not like some music,
But the people who regret,
Are the people who quit.
What is the magic about it,
That makes people regret?
Is it the achievement of playing a piece?
Or hearing people clap?
What is the reason why people regret?
The answer may be black and white,
Or maybe even grey.
Light
By Ryan McLaughlin
Candle light, sun light
The excess of the sun drives us crazy
To little light, we flick a switch
If we have trouble seeing we
Flick a switch
Put down a shade
But when envy spreads,
We don’t flick a switch,
To see what is wrong
We avoid the light, staying in the shadows
And sneak up on our new prey
We stab and hurt them
In the shadows,
Without a light
Candle light, sun light
The excess of the sun drives us crazy
To little light, we flick a switch
If we have trouble seeing we
Flick a switch
Put down a shade
But when envy spreads,
We don’t flick a switch,
To see what is wrong
We avoid the light, staying in the shadows
And sneak up on our new prey
We stab and hurt them
In the shadows,
Without a light
Change
By Joweina Hsiao
People we see today,
May and probably will look different in the future.
People we once knew,
Change just like that.
It almost seems as if they're someone new,
Someone you don't remember knowing.
There isn’t a connection anymore.
Nothing to talk about,
Even if there is.
Tension builds, as you sense their presence.
For it seems like their memory has been erased,
For they don’t know who you are.
Try remembering the days,
When you used to get along.
Those days are so distant.
Although it is hard to explain,
I'm sure there has been a change.
People we see today,
May and probably will look different in the future.
People we once knew,
Change just like that.
It almost seems as if they're someone new,
Someone you don't remember knowing.
There isn’t a connection anymore.
Nothing to talk about,
Even if there is.
Tension builds, as you sense their presence.
For it seems like their memory has been erased,
For they don’t know who you are.
Try remembering the days,
When you used to get along.
Those days are so distant.
Although it is hard to explain,
I'm sure there has been a change.
Shooting Star
By David Ball
When you wish upon a star
Minds begins to whirl
You think of all your hopes and dreams
And everything that has occurred
You wish you could fly
With that star up above
To discover new places untold
You’d go to Bombay, Peru, and Africa
Flying over the savannah
Fulfilled with anticipation and joy.
You’d pass other stars
Waving as they glisten in the dark.
If only you could be
That lovely shooting star,
Then all your hopes and dreams
Would become reality.
When you wish upon a star
Minds begins to whirl
You think of all your hopes and dreams
And everything that has occurred
You wish you could fly
With that star up above
To discover new places untold
You’d go to Bombay, Peru, and Africa
Flying over the savannah
Fulfilled with anticipation and joy.
You’d pass other stars
Waving as they glisten in the dark.
If only you could be
That lovely shooting star,
Then all your hopes and dreams
Would become reality.
Too
By Ryan McLaughlin
Birds,
They sing,
They dance
But not for men
You imagine that you do
For they don’t care for species
That hunt them.
For they don’t appreciate you.
You listen.
You think.
If they sing for themselves
Why not for you,
Too?
Birds,
They sing,
They dance
But not for men
You imagine that you do
For they don’t care for species
That hunt them.
For they don’t appreciate you.
You listen.
You think.
If they sing for themselves
Why not for you,
Too?
Dream
By Wyatt Driscoll
I stand alone on the baking field
Kissing gnats
Sweat rolling down my skin.
Where am I?
Stands filled with excited fans
Surround me,
Screaming, “Wyatt! Wyatt!!”
My feet are nailed to the ground
I can’t move
A fly ball comes my way
But I’m paralyzed
The lights blind me
Almost too late
I dive forward
In an effort to be a hero
I attempt to inhale deeply
But my breath is gone
Knocked out by the solid turf
My glove hits the ground
I open my eyes
Just enough
To see the ball buried in the
Pocket of my glove
Someone yells
I roll over
And
Awake
I’m late for the game.
I stand alone on the baking field
Kissing gnats
Sweat rolling down my skin.
Where am I?
Stands filled with excited fans
Surround me,
Screaming, “Wyatt! Wyatt!!”
My feet are nailed to the ground
I can’t move
A fly ball comes my way
But I’m paralyzed
The lights blind me
Almost too late
I dive forward
In an effort to be a hero
I attempt to inhale deeply
But my breath is gone
Knocked out by the solid turf
My glove hits the ground
I open my eyes
Just enough
To see the ball buried in the
Pocket of my glove
Someone yells
I roll over
And
Awake
I’m late for the game.
Watching
By Andrea Kim
Sky will beam
As I watch
Sun stretches its weary wings
As I watch
Birds twitter clear sounds
Daybreak
As I watch
Warmth seeps through my body
Perfect fit
Adjust to every need
Hope in the new day
As I watch.
Sky will beam
As I watch
Sun stretches its weary wings
As I watch
Birds twitter clear sounds
Daybreak
As I watch
Warmth seeps through my body
Perfect fit
Adjust to every need
Hope in the new day
As I watch.
Star Mile
By Kate Huneke
A violet painted sky (stubborn
clouds) and two sputtering heart buh-booms
beneath, the scene that confronts me-
saddens me.
Instead of sugary or
iron sounds, the lone noise
is the black sand
brushing over
it’s own
grainy blanket, and
the ragged breath of
beautiful, twisted lovers. I
am the only one who can hear
my rapid blinking. Tap, tap,
tap.
Dust-sparkling and simple-
is the only scent as
the snowflakes whip around
my bare legs, proving winter’s
random temper.
The ghost of your taste,
perplexing and enigmatic, still
sleeping on the tip
of the tongue, numb
and totally unwilling
to make amends.
I am just as vindictive
at present.
A violet painted sky (stubborn
clouds) and two sputtering heart buh-booms
beneath, the scene that confronts me-
saddens me.
Instead of sugary or
iron sounds, the lone noise
is the black sand
brushing over
it’s own
grainy blanket, and
the ragged breath of
beautiful, twisted lovers. I
am the only one who can hear
my rapid blinking. Tap, tap,
tap.
Dust-sparkling and simple-
is the only scent as
the snowflakes whip around
my bare legs, proving winter’s
random temper.
The ghost of your taste,
perplexing and enigmatic, still
sleeping on the tip
of the tongue, numb
and totally unwilling
to make amends.
I am just as vindictive
at present.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
People of the Fall
By Jada Rice
They fall gracefully,
Not too far away from their dwelling.
As they are departing they leave their beloved companions behind
It's a choice that is natural.
They are left with only that choice.
Orange, brown, yellow, green or red.
Crushable, rigid, or sharp.
Every single one of leaves are the same, but yet different.
They are symbols of people.
They fall gracefully,
Not too far away from their dwelling.
As they are departing they leave their beloved companions behind
It's a choice that is natural.
They are left with only that choice.
Orange, brown, yellow, green or red.
Crushable, rigid, or sharp.
Every single one of leaves are the same, but yet different.
They are symbols of people.
Cloud
By Andrea Kim
A soft puff
Just a formless piece
Hovers over a field
Protective
Cloud
Wrapping its downy body
Around a patch of trees
Hill stretching up and up
Yearning for
Nebulous beauty
Cloud rolls on
Disappearing
Into the sunset
A soft puff
Just a formless piece
Hovers over a field
Protective
Cloud
Wrapping its downy body
Around a patch of trees
Hill stretching up and up
Yearning for
Nebulous beauty
Cloud rolls on
Disappearing
Into the sunset
Morning Mist
By Jada Rice
Orange, purple, blue, and pink.
The sun's circular hourglass brings out its beauty.
It peeks behind the tall snow-covered hill on the left,
as if it were politely saying good morning.
I awake to its bright rays that nearly blind me.
Twinkling radiantly in the morning mist.
The mist sets a cold, dull day ahead,
but the sun sets a hot, bright one.
I tiredly get up and decide to gaze at it continuously.
During the evening the suns rays secretly whispered to me.
The whispering seemed to become more settled as the day maintained.
I didn't see the sun again until the morning mist.
Orange, purple, blue, and pink.
The sun's circular hourglass brings out its beauty.
It peeks behind the tall snow-covered hill on the left,
as if it were politely saying good morning.
I awake to its bright rays that nearly blind me.
Twinkling radiantly in the morning mist.
The mist sets a cold, dull day ahead,
but the sun sets a hot, bright one.
I tiredly get up and decide to gaze at it continuously.
During the evening the suns rays secretly whispered to me.
The whispering seemed to become more settled as the day maintained.
I didn't see the sun again until the morning mist.
The Seat
By Yasi Agah
When in the seat
The dark pedestal
All control, in my hands
Like a principal of a school
Except
I can choose to act cautious
or reckless
To run over all in my path
My power arises
From my soul to
The sun
Like a dove
Who flaps
All the way
To heaven
When I am in...
The driver’s seat
I control not only the car
But my...
life.
When in the seat
The dark pedestal
All control, in my hands
Like a principal of a school
Except
I can choose to act cautious
or reckless
To run over all in my path
My power arises
From my soul to
The sun
Like a dove
Who flaps
All the way
To heaven
When I am in...
The driver’s seat
I control not only the car
But my...
life.
Dancing in the Chapel
By Sabrina Karlin
My eyes glanced up from the black and white print.
They swooped around the circular room
Taking in the scenery.
I took a breathe
And a holy smell of must and lavender
Flitted to my senses.
My tiny eager fingernails
Tapped a rhythmic beat
On the sturdy oak bench.
I tucked my foot protectively behind my ankle
To keep it from mimicking my fingers.
Then I could resist no longer.
I rose to my feet
And glided into the middle
Of the polished wood floor
In a dream-like stance.
The filtered sunlight found me
And the stain glass windows
Turned it a sparkling gold.
My pale silhouette
A midnight black cutout
Against the shimmering starry evening
On the break of dawn.
I twirled gracefully
Careful to spot the dim candles flickering with every draft.
Instantly my pink converse
Transformed into rose-colored ballet slippers.
The chatter of voices my music
The glow from the windows my spotlight.
There I danced like know one was watching.
The musical chatter
My imagination
And the precise beating of my dancing feet
All synced into a mellifluous story.
My eyes glanced up from the black and white print.
They swooped around the circular room
Taking in the scenery.
I took a breathe
And a holy smell of must and lavender
Flitted to my senses.
My tiny eager fingernails
Tapped a rhythmic beat
On the sturdy oak bench.
I tucked my foot protectively behind my ankle
To keep it from mimicking my fingers.
Then I could resist no longer.
I rose to my feet
And glided into the middle
Of the polished wood floor
In a dream-like stance.
The filtered sunlight found me
And the stain glass windows
Turned it a sparkling gold.
My pale silhouette
A midnight black cutout
Against the shimmering starry evening
On the break of dawn.
I twirled gracefully
Careful to spot the dim candles flickering with every draft.
Instantly my pink converse
Transformed into rose-colored ballet slippers.
The chatter of voices my music
The glow from the windows my spotlight.
There I danced like know one was watching.
The musical chatter
My imagination
And the precise beating of my dancing feet
All synced into a mellifluous story.
The Eye
By C. Burgess
Circular, spherical disc,
A sea – green with blurred smudges of icy blue,
The jade olive color exploding off the ball,
Springing toward you like a right hook in a boxing match,
The eye.
Vanilla, cream colored continents,
Implanted deep into the colossal craters of it,
Trapped as prisoners of its evil,
Symbols of glowing hope in the midst of dark confusion,
The eye.
Clear, lake colored,
As bleached snow screams in agony
Yet brilliant orange cream fights for publicity stuck behind
The eye.
Circular, spherical disc,
A sea – green with blurred smudges of icy blue,
The jade olive color exploding off the ball,
Springing toward you like a right hook in a boxing match,
The eye.
Vanilla, cream colored continents,
Implanted deep into the colossal craters of it,
Trapped as prisoners of its evil,
Symbols of glowing hope in the midst of dark confusion,
The eye.
Clear, lake colored,
As bleached snow screams in agony
Yet brilliant orange cream fights for publicity stuck behind
The eye.
Death
By Wyatt Driscoll
Death
is common
It happens
everyday
No one
can stop it
It’s
inevitable
For some,
in their sleep
and
for others
painfully
No one
knows where you go
Heaven
or
Hell
But
you
will find out soon
I promise
you
that
Only Death
is
immortal.
Death
is common
It happens
everyday
No one
can stop it
It’s
inevitable
For some,
in their sleep
and
for others
painfully
No one
knows where you go
Heaven
or
Hell
But
you
will find out soon
I promise
you
that
Only Death
is
immortal.
Coming Alive
By Sabrina Karlin
It doesn’t seem so long ago
That trees
Pinecones
Grass
Was frozen in an immortal state.
And a heavy dusting of feather white glitter
Blanketed everything South of the darkened sky.
And an eerie mist
Shrouded the pine-engulfed mountains.
Swallowing them up
Like a hungry predator.
But gradually the sun shone through
Warming everything.
Now features of those wintry nights
Are now those of Spring.
But everything on earth
Must come a time to die.
The ivory powder vanishes
Until next year
Goodbye.
It doesn’t seem so long ago
That trees
Pinecones
Grass
Was frozen in an immortal state.
And a heavy dusting of feather white glitter
Blanketed everything South of the darkened sky.
And an eerie mist
Shrouded the pine-engulfed mountains.
Swallowing them up
Like a hungry predator.
But gradually the sun shone through
Warming everything.
Now features of those wintry nights
Are now those of Spring.
But everything on earth
Must come a time to die.
The ivory powder vanishes
Until next year
Goodbye.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Skiing
By Eric Jadallah
Flying through the deep dry snow
Being blinded as your first tracks show up
Go anywhere, including places ending in a cliff
But it doesn’t matter because the landing is all powder.
The powder slowing you down even when you don’t know it.
Crashing and flipping, and not caring because it doesn't hurt
Knowing everyone thinks your crazy but secretly their jealous.
Laughing when you get to the bottom, having the best run of your life.
Putting your skis on your back and hiking back up.
Flying through the deep dry snow
Being blinded as your first tracks show up
Go anywhere, including places ending in a cliff
But it doesn’t matter because the landing is all powder.
The powder slowing you down even when you don’t know it.
Crashing and flipping, and not caring because it doesn't hurt
Knowing everyone thinks your crazy but secretly their jealous.
Laughing when you get to the bottom, having the best run of your life.
Putting your skis on your back and hiking back up.
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