Author: poetryfest

Donald Trump doesn’t want me to have children
And it’s personal,
Though I’m sure he’d argue otherwise.
But you can’t ignore the plethora of emails
stating that I don’t deserve my IVF coverage and health insurance
because I work for the federal government
and, therefore, am of course,
lazy
and therefore, of course, should not be
contributing my blue eyes to the gene pool,
and therefore,
really,
am I even an American?

I pay all my taxes.
My productivity was 136% for the fourth quarter.
and maybe most importantly,
I’m still in my pop punk era.
So I do what I fucking want,
even without Uncle Sam, I mean Uncle Trump’s, permission.

motherland.
mag mell —
resting, resting
whatever you say
(say nothin)
some city birds were silent snitches
so i ran back,
mag mell
motherland.

ceantar, the place we inhabit
alltar be it’s shadow
quantum time between them
are you listening?
fall through na réimse
two slanted mists
trace teanga back as memory
ways of being beyond shame
before the words were beaten
out of us.
n/a

The walls are hung with loneliness
like tapestries of riderless horses.
The dim glow of a lamp flickering with
lost thoughts pales against the
winter-shrouded windowpane.
An echo of remorseful silence resounds
in the emptiness of the room’s want
like a spiderweb torn by wind shears.
On the floor, parquet designs in a mosaic
of stumble steps puzzle, questioning
direction. A rug has rolled up on itself
hiding darkness within its shadows.
The hum of motes seeks its home
among the dust. And I huddle in the corner
whispering your name.

The wind blew us in from the sea;
I don’t know anyone here, and neither does he,
so, we wander the streets of this small, coastal town,
looking for souvenirs, both sought and found.
A left, a right, another left, and then, suddenly,

a doorway into shelves of old records and DVDs,
gleaned from dusty bookcases, and now in front of me.
Steadily, we flick through the racks, listening to the sound
of the wind that blew us in from the sea.

Back at the hotel, we crawl into bed ever so gently,
and when we wake, he pulls me in even more deeply;
for a brief moment, I know what it is to drown,
to fill your lungs with something as profound
as the wind that blows in from the sea.

Colorado, red-hued, now a grayish-green,
trailing the scent of corruption in her wake
as she strains toward an ocean beyond her reach.
Meadows and forest long since turned to dust
in this Garden of Eden razed to the ground,
in this paradise paved with bare and broken rock
by generations building the American Dream.

This may sound morbid
but I hear my loved one’s
eulogies scroll through
my mind like captions
on a film reel—

the poetry of loving
someone is
knowing how you’d say goodbye
while they’re still alive,
tucking grief into the folds
of everyday moments—
just in case.

His disheveled hair– scattering all over his face.
Even a messier state would make my heart race.
The morning sun loved to shine all over his beauty.
The night would argue, “Carrying the moon is my duty.”
Sharp eyebrows with his tone line structure.
Slightly furrowed together, displaying their culture.
Those green eyes; always too shy.
Still was enough for my mind to occupy.
His lowered gaze would barely meet mine.
Everyday, his stars find numerous ways to shine.
Just to focus. Those orbs forget to flatter.
Making place for his long silky hairs to scatter.
His hair feels soft when he permits me to ruffle.
Again fix them up. Smooth and reshuffle.
Those brushed cheeks never lacked blush.
One time to touch. Oh, that’s like mush.
His lips– apart from each other.
I’d rather stare at them forever.
Upper one’s faintly plump and mellow.
Bottom one’s an obedient fellow.
Together they’re signs of creation.
A smile on them. Great combination.
His warm tone caresses my fragile petals.
Carrying comfort before another moment settles.
A gentle nod for affirmation.
Even when my request lost location.
From the very start, it’s his habit.
Affection never mind any limit.
He never gave anything much heed.
Unless the matter involved me for any need.
Agreeing on matters about early relicts.
To avoid some unnecessary conflicts.
I don’t know anymore if it’s true.
Luck favors. Never had such a clue.
Until he became the path to my home.
I’d ask him every time. My hope. My home.
We enjoyed the sunset in the mountains.
Of shared emotions, we both were accountants.
I asked if this could be our forever.
I asked if you’d leave, your promise was “Never.”
That’s all my desires ached for.
My smiles. The ones you bring and adore.
I started loving my existence.
Just to hear your kind words of brilliance.
Though sometimes the night would stay.
Again together, we solved them away.
That’s how strong has been our bond.
Of you, I can’t help being fond.
Those moments are still precious.
I’d love to make more of them with us.
Though words aren’t enough, I still wrote this.
Oh my home, you’ve become my bliss.

Grief cuts deep.
It hides in your bones,
plays peek-a-boo.

You dig
until your insides
spill, splattered wide.

Tag, you’re out.

Only to realize
there are more
Monsters than one.

A layered web
threaded through
past lives, too.

You swim to surface,
gasp for air,
choked
by silent screams.

You reach out
looking for God,
but He’s not here.

Matter to dust.

They say He’s
with you.

Yes, They are.
And they’re here to
play again.

By: Amy Yuan

Your touch haunts my skin,
a nerve I cannot sever—
dead, but still twitching.

Do you remember playing outside? Tossing me pitches while you stayed to the side. Or maybe the games we’d sit and watch? We both believed the Braves would always be top-notch! These small, genuine moments lost in the space of time are the same ones I replay right before Bedtime.

How about birthdays? You made them the best! Other Grandma is my favorite, I’d declare from my chest. Nobody understands, but I see it so clear. You loved me for me, it still brings me to tears. You were my world and my reason to push, to impress grandma, these guys had to get Crushed!

I’ll never forget the Christmas’s we spent huddled together. To me, being by your side couldn’t be better. Dinner was always a statement, delicious and divine. I’d call dibs on ribs number 2 through 9! The gifts were awesome but never my number 1 reason. Being around your favorite people can thaw your heart from freezing.

Your lessons in manners never went unheard. Always in my heart, every single word. You taught me to be a man and carry myself with pride. I told myself your funeral, would be the only time I cried.

You’d tell me my games were the greatest, and you can’t wait to see them. Increasing my confidence, I’d do anything to beat them. I loved to see you smile and clap when I showed up. It showed me my love meant so, so much to someone.

I carried this confidence even when we were apart. Knowing I had a family to represent, who had been there from the start. With my chest held high, there was none who could phase me. I had the best support group possible, not only to push me but also to accept praise with me. Beginning in youth football, my mindset developed. I was going to be the best, whether they wanted me to or not.

I never believed time would run short. Some day soon, the lord will call you to his court. To 10 year 10-year-old me, my world was falling apart. The pain still lingers deep within my heart. With the time we had left, I made the most. Every March 31st, I raise a toast to the host whom I loved the absolute most.

I vividly remember exactly when time froze. The angels had called, and it was your time to go. I never thought it’d happen so soon. There was so much to show you before you soared past the moon. Unspoken words, but shared through prayer. I’m positive they reached you, the only reason I care.

Mom brought me to the funeral, Dad was waiting outside. I embraced him and told him to smile, Grandma loved us both for a good long while. She saw the best in us and believed with all her heart. It was her world, we were just here playing our part. Our suits were matching black, with flowers in hand. Going to see the women who made both of us men.

A chip on the shoulder is what most people called it. A reminder to be great, from the one who told me first. What separated me from the rest was who brought me up from my worst. A mentality of steel and a will to break any curse.

This carried on throughout my sports career. Always working to improve year by year. They would ask what pushes me, why I show up so early. Because I have a beautiful woman watching up where the gates are pearly. High school was hard without her on the sidelines, but having her in my heart was enough to handle the blindside. From switching schools to moving states, the hardships were tough. Through prayer and belief, I knew I’d be more than enough. Then high school ended, and adulthood had to begin. First stop on my 18th birthday was a chair with a pen. My first tattoo, I knew, had to be something special. The woman I loved the most deserved flowers and rose petals. It was a sacred moment, one that meant everything to me. I finally had something that made me smile whenever it was seen.

Your impact is incredibly hard to put into words. Me and dad sit and talk all through summer. Sharing stories and tales of our journeys together, 2 of grandmas peas in a pod, from the exact same feather. I’ll miss you forever, that never has to be told. I will achieve greatness all for my Beautiful Rose.