Your eyes stare forward
into another world,
light years away from here
when in reality–
we are separated by mere feet
instead of miles.
Genre: Philosophical
The Man in The Elevator
by Zach Smith
We ride the elevator,
two complete strangers
trapped together in a small box,
separated by nothing but
uncomfortable silence.
Every day,
we get on at
the exact same time,
the exact same floor.
You get off at the 7th level,
and I at the 12th.
You have coffee and a briefcase,
and I the same thing.
Our briefcases are the same color
and the same style.
I’ve thought about mentioning it,
but it’s been five years now
and I still haven’t.
Your eyes stare forward
into another world,
light years away from here
when in reality–
we are separated by mere feet
instead of miles.
It feels like you are standing at the North Pole
while I have my feet firmly planted at the South.
Polar opposites,
yet similar in so many regards.
We ride the elevator together.
Two complete strangers
trapped together in a small box,
separated by nothing but
uncomfortable silence.
-ZCS
Shivers race up my spine
Mouth dry, Fear runs high
What Darkness here, what presence doth cause me so much Fear
I cannot say, I won’t!
This is not meant to be known
Genre: Anxiety & Depression
The Fear I Hate
by Alayah Esotera
Unusually quiet, no familiar sounds, not a soul around
Just dead silence, it hangs over me like a white sheet upon the deceased
The fog hangs low, the air is dense, nothing now is making sense
I wondered, what is this dead of night, Darkest hour, lowest light
What is this dead of night, this dead of night causing my Soul to blight
No hope, no will, just frozen silence
Shivers race up my spine
Mouth dry, Fear runs high
What Darkness here, what presence doth cause me so much Fear
I cannot say, I won’t!
This is not meant to be known
I feel it rising once again, I feel the presence in my head
Stop I say, Stop I yell! Is this to be my eternal Hell
My Hell on Earth, my lonesome self, my failed Worth
What now shall become of me
If I run, am I really free? Free from this madness, free from me
No. I won’t go. I shall stay deep inside my troubled brain
For if not for my mind, where would I be
It’s what keeps me safe from me
The fear I loathe, the fear I hate, the fear that makes me feel this way
Consumed by feelings dark & cold, lonely, slowly getting old
Fear of people, fear of fate, fear of all the things I hate
Depressed, ashamed, so much pain, So much lost with nothing gained
Will this ever go away…
No, it is here to stay.
Who were you on the worst day of your life?
Who is the person I need to be to make you my wife?
What is your darkest fear?
What are the words your soul longs to hear?
When was the last time you cried tears of joy?
When will you make me your man or will I forever be your boy toy?
Where is the erogenous zone of your mind?
Where do you hide the pass code to your heart, my heart needs to find?
How can two strangers meet, then grow to love to the point their souls intertwine?
How can I arise like a Phoenix, so I might love you for another lifetime?
Why does God honor us to share this time and space?
Why is it when you hold me I am transported to a womb like place?
Before you take a sleep at night,
Before you hungrily take a bite,
Think of the poor farmers here,
They work tirelessly day and night,
To provide you the food you eat,
To provide you the means to survive
Genre: Painful
A Thought For The Farmers
by Rajat Agrawal
Before you take a sleep at night,
Before you hungrily take a bite,
Think of the poor farmers here,
They work tirelessly day and night,
To provide you the food you eat,
To provide you the means to survive.
Before you throw the food in a bin,
Before you complain which went in,
Think of all the people there,
They risk their lives in the fields,
Their own children do stay hungry,
To feed us as per to our needs.
Before you begin to take a nosh,
Before you decide to take a toast.
The farmers there silently cry, for
The farmers there live without hope.
No one to hear their gloomy voice,
For they at all do not have a choice.
So here is a request to you all,
When you start your sapid meal,
Take a moment before you eat,
Thank the farmers for their zeal,
To provide you a way to live,
By sacrificing their very own life.
There was a time not long ago when tales and songs were sung
Of knights and kings, and wizards wise, and wells where water sprung.
My tale tonight shall tell you of a place where magic dwelt,
And what became of this old bard, and what I saw and felt.
Genre:Rhyme, Life, Adventure
The Tree of Life
by Andrew Durbin
There was a time not long ago when tales and songs were sung
Of knights and kings, and wizards wise, and wells where water sprung.
My tale tonight shall tell you of a place where magic dwelt,
And what became of this old bard, and what I saw and felt.
While walking down a narrow road, I came upon a sign.
A sturdy thing, made from the wood of some old gnarled pine.
The town that I was headed to was called by name, “Gremell.”
A shiver traveled up my spine, but why, I could not tell.
I had been walking all the day, and now had come the night.
I had no lantern with me, and the dark impaired my sight.
This town must surely have a place where I could take my rest.
Just then, I heard a sound that made my heart pound in my chest.
I slowly turned upon the spot, and there, before my eyes,
A figure in a hooded cloak against the moon did rise.
I quickly dropped my walking staff; my hand dropped to my sword.
The figure merely stood there. Then it bowed and said, “My Lord.”
Startled and confused was I. I knew not what to say.
The figure pointed with its hand, as if to show the way.
A beam of light cut through the dark, as bright as noonday sun.
It shone upon the rocky cliffs, along which trees did run.
“Who are you, sir?” I asked the man. “And from where do you come?”
My heart was thudding loudly, like the beating of a drum.
He said, “A place where mortal men like you have never seen.
The place where magic makes its home. A place called Ailoth Green.”
“My name is not for you to know,” the man then said to me.
“For if you were to speak it, you would turn into a tree.
But come, the night is drawing down its curtain on the land.
We must away while there’s still time.” He offered me his hand.
I reached towards the figure’s hand, but stopped and stared in awe.
The hand that he held out to me looked much more like a paw.
And then the moon, so full that night, shone down upon us then.
His hood fell back, and what I saw, I may not see again.
His features were not that of man, but of a wild beast.
Pointed ears stood atop his head; his brow was furred and creased.
A long white snout was ended with a wet and coal-black nose.
With one paw pointing, the other held out, he seemed to strike a pose.
He motioned to me fervently. “There’s no time to delay!
We must be in the walls of Ailoth Green before the day!”
I then reached out and grasped his paw. We then began to run.
I looked around for others, but there wasn’t anyone.
Ten minutes passed, and then we stood against the huge cliff face.
A massive thing of granite rock spread out across that space.
The beast-man placed a padded paw against the ink-black stone,
And I’ll tell you that what happened next…it thrilled me to the bone.
A giant crack did then appear, and cut the cliff in twain!
All I had seen, and this besides, weighed heavy on my brain.
I then dropped down upon my knees, and raised my arms up high,
And cried out loud for God to come and take me to the sky.
“Up on your feet,” the creature said. “You’ll not be dying now.
This is the place where we must go. Of that, I will avow.”
He helped me stand, and then he nodded at the growing crack.
“Once we go in, I must warn you…there is no coming back.”
The fissure opened wide enough to let us both pass through.
The walls of rock around me glowed with a bright rainbow hue.
I glanced around me at the walls, and gasped aloud in shock.
A plethora of giant jewels were encased within the rock!
Rubies, emeralds, topazes and sapphires were there,
And onyxes and amethysts, and opals, which are rare.
A bloodstone shone out from the rest, and glinted out at me.
But as we passed, I soon realized there was much more to see.
The first thing that I saw as soon as we had passed the wall
Was the shimmering glaze of water as it fell over a fall.
It landed in a mirror pool a thousand feet below,
And as this wonder met my gaze, I saw a dark brown doe.
She wandered out of a small wood that stood near the plateau
On which the two of us now stood, the water all aglow.
She bowed her head at both of us, and then began to speak!
“The Master waits for you down there. He’s sitting near the creek.”
The beast-man nudged me with a paw and pointed to a stair.
“You must go to the Master now. You cannot have me there.”
I started for the cut stone steps, but when I looked behind,
The creature and the doe had vanished, not a trace of them to find.
I started walking down the steps, my eyes cast here and there
To take in every detail of this fascinating lair.
And when I reached the bottom, there before me near a creek,
A little man sat smiling there, a tattoo on his cheek.
He was a short and wizened man, of what age I knew not.
To me, he appeared ancient, as if him the time forgot.
He wore a light blue silken robe, and round about his head,
A circlet of some brownish leaves, their color saying dead.
“I welcome you, my slim young friend,” this old man said to me.
“My name is Osnant Willowborn, the Guardian of the Tree.
My servant led you to me, and now I will tell you why:
The Tree that holds the world together will soon begin to die.”
I stood there stunned, not really sure if I had heard him right.
I said, “But why did you choose me to aid you in your plight?”
He smiled up at me and said, “Because you are the one
Whose poetry and tales of wonder people do not shun.”
“It is because of men like you the Tree still stays alive.
The magic of the spoken word allows the Tree to thrive.
When you go back to your home town, I ask you only this:
That your poetry continues to keep the Tree from the Abyss.”
He pulled a leather pouch out then from deep within his robe
And from within that small brown sack, he took a tiny globe.
He handed the small thing to me and said, with knowing grin,
“You can’t know where you’re going without knowing where you’ve been.”
He told me then to close my eyes, and so I did as asked,
Wondering to myself how I’d complete this mammoth task.
And when I opened them, I once again stood on the road
And faced towards the town Gremell, where morning sunlight flowed.
Twenty years ago this was, and I still have the globe.
I usually keep it in my rented room’s wardrobe.
Wherever I have gone since then, I mark it plain and clear,
For if the old man’s words are true, then we have much to fear.
Poets, bards, and storytellers, please heed my words this day.
Keep up your old traditions, and don’t let them go astray.
As long as we keep the magic of the Tree of Life alive,
Then the world will hold together, and for that…we all must strive.
To build a home is to tear apart
All the things that broke our hearts.
To tie together all the strings
That hung about lost as they sway with our movements like wings.
Genre: Rhyme, Life
To Build A Home
by: Stephanelle Mewouo
To build a home is to tear apart
All the things that broke our hearts.
To tie together all the strings
That hung about lost as they sway with our movements like wings.
To make a dream is to rise above
the standards. Of what is suppose to be in order to become what we are. To learn to say yes to the opportunities that have yet to come. To hope that in the pleasure of our serendipity, we are faced with the consequences that our innocence tends to result in.
I scream inside so you will hear, just how loud my silence can’t be.
To create magic is to take all the pieces that seemed impossible to obtain and create a masterpiece. An art that only we could understand. So that when our home is built, we know that all of the dreams that we kept secret were being tied together. And it was now possible to be. As one separate unity, we are able to become.
Dear Bully:
We forgive you for the hurt that you’ve caused,
For the pain and the terror you’ve brought us.
Some good has come from your horrible ways
Because, Dear Bully, you’ve taught us
How not to treat others, how not to act
How not to cause others to fear us.
Genre: Bullying, Life, Society
Dear Bully: A Collection of Poems about Bullying
by Joyce Fields
Dear Bully:
We forgive you for the hurt that you’ve caused,
For the pain and the terror you’ve brought us.
Some good has come from your horrible ways
Because, Dear Bully, you’ve taught us
How not to treat others, how not to act
How not to cause others to fear us.
God is watching, Dear Bully,
And we truly want Him to cheer us.
We’ll remember to use the Golden Rule
And be kind and respectful to others
Because, even though we’re all different,
We all are sisters and brothers.
So your power to make us tremble, Dear Bully,
That power is being taken
And soon, very soon, Dear Bully,
To a new day we’ll awaken.
We hope that you will join us,
Making this world a better place.
We’ll stand shoulder to shoulder together,
And we’ll surely win the race!
I guess you start to understand what angels feel like when you have kissed the devil on her stomach. When you have danced with the demons and pulled the skeletons out of your closet to display everything that ever was before her.
Genre: Life, Society
#1
by Kindra Talley
I guess you start to understand what angels feel like when you have kissed the devil on her stomach. When you have danced with the demons and pulled the skeletons out of your closet to display everything that ever was before her.
She is laying on my chest and I know that I want to teach her how to dance to my pulse.
Chances are, I probably have heart murmurs. But maybe she isn’t that advance. Maybe she won’t care about anything else but the truth that I have provided her.
Which is to say that maybe she understands where I have been and what I’m going through and doesn’t feel afraid of anything but the depth she knows she will reach when loving me.
The child sleeps inside
an amethyst
She has no mouth
Four glass stairs
Lead to the outside
Her world ashine
under a gaudy full moon
golden trees,
topaz bushes
illuminated
Genre: Love, Relationship
THE AMETHYST
by Angel Edwards
The child sleeps inside
an amethyst
She has no mouth
Four glass stairs
Lead to the outside
Her world ashine
under a gaudy full moon
golden trees,
topaz bushes
illuminated
An ancient fountain
in the centre
propels a rainbow stream clear cool water forever
She scoops some up
Breathes in the magic water
Her ghost friend Jack becomes visible again
she attempts as
always in vain
always to
his laughter,
to embrace,to touch
Jack dressed up
like a king
golden crown
velvet purple cloak
He has holes for eyes
neither would
grow old
Never would fall in love
Only be friends
Innocent child love
for these child spirits
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