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May 2017

It’s my last day with the old giants
in MORNING, I hike the lost trails
sniffing the aroma of the bark
that cinnamon of the forest.

Under tepees of wood
in a membrane of shadows,
I stalk the earth’s mammal traces,
its elusive tracks. I sit on a fallen log
where spiders macramé moss
sloping to my knees
unaware of invisibles within,
grubbing in their tunnels.

A lizard taps my foot,
responding, I muse to its touch.
My thoughts are like Indian visions
and when daylight mushrooms into night
an owl hoot comes from the cedars.

I still sit with a lizard on my shoe
Huddled with the ancients of the woods.

© 2017 Mario Vitale
Naugatuck Valley College
Wolcott, CT
Undergraduate

May 2017

Black Pen

A black pen runs smoothly over my paper,
I am writing down my fears and
I am writing to forget.
Darker as it dries,
I watch it like paint on the walls,
Hoping that people see I am busy and not approach.

I am cold, and as shivers go on marathons down my spine
I am reckless, writing against stares and hungry looks that hit my sides like arrows.
No I’m not okay.

My black pen twists and flows,
Waking up to wake me up,
I am asleep on the inside.
I wish I had enough white out to white out my existence,
My mistakes.

His voice was as smooth as a black pen gliding,
And I miss it writing all over my bones
And in the caves on my veins,
I don’t have white out.
I down some window cleaner, trying to clear out his black pen hieroglyphics that have
Made their home in my blood since
July.

© 2017 Eden K.
Clearwater High School
Clearwater, Fl
Grade 10

May 2017

Believing in Myself

My fingers squeak and slide,
I play but I have already tried,
Many times since yesterday,
But I still tried again today

The violin just stares back at me,
Brown and lifeless as I see.
I walk away, disheartened to play,
But I will try again another day

A year later I try it again,
Walking into my little practice den,
I start to play and love the song,
I play as if it hasn’t been long

The notes start to come on their own,
I start to play, feeling known,
Without knowing, I start to sway,
As I enjoy that minute, that hour, that day.

I continue playing, passing a goal,
Feeling passion, feeling control,
I play and all my shyness recedes,
Feeling like I have completed many good deeds

Now when I play, I reach a zone,
Knowing that I have surely grown,
I focus hard, putting all my energy into a song
Knowing that I did it, that I hadn’t gone wrong

I remember that the violin used to make me annoyed,
I would get frustrated and feel paranoid,
Until one day I tried and believed,
And that is the only thing that has helped me succeed.

© 2017 Maya H.
St Thomas Episcopal School
Bellaire, TX
Grade 7

May 2017

LIME RICK

there once was a boy named will

who really liked to chill

so he sat on a chair

without great care

and now his butt looks like a pill

© 2017 Kyle C.
Chaparral Elementary School
Albuquerque, NM
Grade 4

April 2017

Words are Deep

Words, they cut like a knife
You never know what they can do
They can take your life from you

It comes like a trigger from a loaded gun
lots of damage can be done
so be careful, and watch out
for words are deep and they are loud

they come at you crystal clear
and you never know
what you will fear
Words…are…deep

© 2017 Kylie D.
Waynesville High School
Waynesville, MO
Grade 9

April 2017

Goodbye Mom

I wish for nothing more
Than just one more day
I would give it all
Just to hear you say

Do you homework!
Clean your room!
Put away the laundry!
Eat with your spoon!

The least I could have done
Was give you the time of day
But I thought it uncool
And pushed you away

You tucked me into bed
Then left my room
The last time I ever saw you
You left this world too soon

Something changed that day
Something deep inside
As you were laid in the ground
You weren’t the only one who died

You don’t realize how much
You love a person
Until they’re gone

I’ve been walking around
For the past year
Hollow, feeling empty
Devoid of any cheer

I can’t do it anymore
I’m just a shadow
Of the person I used to be

We all need to say goodbye
Sooner or later

My heart
Needs to be whole again

And now
Standing by your grave
Looking at your gravestone
Onto which is engraved

“Love lives on
Sleep to eternity
A free spirit
Precious are your memories”

I know you’re up there
Next to the sun and the moon
Don’t worry
I’ll get up there soon

Goodbye Mom

© 2017 Layla M.
The Kaust School
Jeddah, Saudi Arabia
Grade 8

April 2017

My Little Bubble

Once I got some bubbly soap.
My first bubble looked like a very long rope.
Then I blew a very small bubble!

I jumped for joy when I blew,
it nearly popped on my shoe.
It almost flew way too high,
my bubble looked like it was shy.

“For goodness SAKES!” I said to myself.
“You could have popped on the shelf!”
Then I gently blew it to some meat.
My bubble couldn’t talk but surely wanted to eat.

The next day I went to check on it,
he was not floating over the necklace kit.
It had popped when I turned away,
But I blow a similar bubble every single day!

© 2017 Naomi S.
Parnassus Preparatory School
Maple Grove, MN
Grade 3

April 2017

The Coconut

Once I met a coconut
He said his name was Flea.
Then he told me his story
And it was a very sad one indeed.
“One day I forgot I was in a tree
So I started dancing
And oh, woe was me!
I fell right out of that tree
And came splashing down into the sea.”

© 2017 Thea G.
Jackson Elementary School
Jackson, WY
Grade 2

March 2017

Sandwhitches

Roast beef, salami, lunch meat
The wonders
Savory, tasteful, waterfalls of drool
One bite
Two bites
Cheese melting in my mouth
Or was it melted before?
One may never know
Peanutbutter
Jelly
Grape jelly be jumin’ to be exact
Don’t Discriminate
Sandwhitches come in all shapes and sizes
Circular, round, triangular, octangle
I love them all
Mysterious and magical
Creative as could be
Sandwhitches, How I love thee

© 2017 Alexanda B.
Springville Griffith Institute
Springville, NY
Grade 11

March 2017

The Polar Poem

I awoke to the sounds of a roar.
So loud and fierce,
yet so … beautiful.
I looked out my window and wiped away the frost,
but only then did I find a blinding sight.
It huffed and puffed,
fogging up everything in its path.
I rushed outside to get a glimpse,
but it stopped …
when it arrived at my house.
Someone rang a bell
as if they were telling me to come aboard.
Every crunch,
every step in the snow,
a faint shadow drew closer and closer.
I stepped on in.
Smells of hot cocoa wafted past my nose.
I was ready for what adventure this would bring.
The monster started to take off,
and I took off with it.
We went faster than a cheetah,
racing over mountains and under tunnels.
I was enjoying everything too much when it started to move
slower
and slower
and slower.
I stepped out
only to find a jolly good man staring at me.
He left out his hand,
but he then stepped closer towards me,
like he wanted me to take something.
He opened his hand
and there laid a shiny golden bell.
I carefully put it in my pocket,
as if it were a rare gem.

When I awoke the next morning,
the bell was no longer there.
Tears dripped down my cheeks
like a waterfall.
For it wasn’t until I looked under the tree that I found a small striped box.
And there laid the bell,
still as shiny and beautiful.
I rang it in my ear.
It was the smoothest sound ever.
That is the one night I’ll never forget,
the night on The Polar Express.

© 2017 Ellen W.
Chattanooga High School Center for Creative Arts
Chattanooga, TN
Grade 6