I have been waiting
For the day
And time
When I can escape
This hell on earth
This place
No one can call home
This place where
Witches write their evil spells
And demons dwell
You cannot begin to imagine
What has come and gone
In this house
What bittersweet love
Has had its last testimony here
What lullabye song
Has screeched its raging tongue
For all children to hear
With glasses breaking
In the public hall
For all the guests to see
Where alcohol and anger mix
In one parent’s greed
I live in this place
Where everybody knows
What goes on
In these suffocating halls
And suffering rooms
Where someone is
Always crying
And
Where witches write their evil spells
And demons dwell
Drizzle
Drizzle
Pitter pat
Sweet raindrops
Tap
Tap
Tap
I dance
I spin and twirl
While the rain
Come tumbling down
Splash
Splash
It falls harder
Mating down my hair
Tight curls unwound
Swish
Swish
Swish
I sweep through puddles
Dreaming of more raindrops
The high wind pulls and tugs
Whistling in my ears
Howel
Howel
I pull the soaking coat close
While the rain comes down
Drizzle
Drizzle
Pitter pat
I guess we say goodbye
But I hope to see you again
Sometime
“Cry”
It was five o’clock in the morning
Walkin’ down that street
All I could see was the stars and you
It was like a story
I had so often heard
So when you leaned towards me and kissed me
I wasn’t scared
It started out beautiful
Like every fairytale
From Cinderella to Snow White
I know you’d be there
To catch me when I fell
Oh and I fell
But you didn’t catch me that time no~
You let me slip through your arms
And I crashed into the ground
It was so beautiful
That it almost brought tears to my eyes
But I wouldn’t cry
Not in front of you
Never in front of you~
Do you ask yourself why?
Why did you let me go?
I’m coming back to you
I’ll never cry for you
‘Cause you not worth my tears~
I can’t cry for you
‘Cause you aren’t the one in my heart
I guess I just moved on
Arguments – By Colleen Casey
“Don’t do that” Said the Koala to the Bear
He was returned with an innocent stare
“I didn’t think you’d care”
“Well, I do” the Koala said, matter of factly
“Why?” said the bear, quite moodily
“Because it annoys me!” Koala said, incredulously
“All bears chew with their mouth open”
For a while, Koala remained unspoken
Then
“They do, but not like you”
“Sure they do”
Sarcastically came Koala’s remark; “Who knew?”
Bear remarked “I’ll stop chewing with my mouth open if you do one thing for me”
“And that is?” Koala said with mocking glee
“Wipe yourself up, next time you pee.”
“You see you’re not very clean,
And I don’t want to be mean,
But you stink. And you must have good hygiene.”
Happiness
Written by Kenneth Nguyen
As long as there is a kid laughing and enjoying a lovely life
Watching the stars without any strife, there will be happiness
As long as there is a person who finds true love
Living life to its fullest, there will be happiness
As long as there is a family who cares and shares with unselfishness,
Concerned for one another, there will be happiness
What is happiness?
Happiness is the blind man saying he sees to his deaf dog
Winter was not a pleasant time to walk in the streets of Sulschek. In fact, there was never a pleasant time to be walking in the streets of Sulschek, according to the CEO. Countless laws had been put in place restricting even the noble citizens from using unnecessary movement. Movement causes discovery. Discovery causes ideas. Ideas cause revolutions. The capital of the world didn’t get its reputation by letting people think whatever they wanted, after all.
But this did not stop Vasily Weitztov. He made his way hurriedly but silently through the red ruins of Old Moscow to the Inner City of Sulschek. At least, that’s where he thought he was heading. He couldn’t be certain, but the man he was following was wearing an almost flawless black suit. Nobody wore suits in Old Moscow. Nobody.
On an ordinary day, the suit in question would have been flawless. If you worked in the city, or if you worked at all for that matter, you were flawless. But this man’s suit was not flawless. It was torn, wrinkled, and stained, all because of a slight mistake in his actions. A great mistake, thought Vasily, a great one indeed.
Vasily, like everyone else in the world, only knew a life of poverty and darkness. But at least everyone else had friends. Vasily’s mother forced him into secretly studying Government and Politics of Modern Society, and no one wants to be friends with a businessman. Businessmen, after all, were the reason for poverty and darkness. Vasily suffered through life much more than anyone else on the planet. And that’s saying something.
Vasily’s father never wanted a wife, a child, or a family. He only did what he needed to do in order to survive. Vasily never knew who his father was, but his Mother, the gracious Guianna Weitztov, always knew. “Just like your Papa,” she would say, all too often. Vasily never understood why he was praised for being like his father. His father had ruined their lives. What was there to be grateful for?
And now Guianna was dead. She was the reason for Vasily’s illegal excursion. Guianna was, literally, Vasily’s life. Without his mother, there was no more life worth living. And so, with nothing more than a makeshift knife in hand, Vasily continued on through the poverty stricken alleyways of Old Moscow.
Whispers filled cold, dry air as the mysterious man walked past. Even louder were the whispers as Vasily passed. The man showed no signs of slowing. He briskly turned the corner and continued in the dark. He continued, that is, until a woman threw an empty bottle at Vasily’s face and screamed, “Traitor!” The alley went silent. There were no whispers, no footsteps; the only sounds heard were the painful shrieks of the wind. Vasily froze to find the nearly infallible man approaching him. His head was bowed, his hands stuffed in his pockets.
He raised his right hand and his head at the same time. As he did this, Vasily realized two things about the strange man he had followed. Poised in the man’s right hand was a gun. It was no ordinary gun, though, and Vasily recognized it immediately. It was the infamous Series I Softnose, the most powerful weapon of the age, and there was only one in the world.
But more than anything Vasily saw something odd about the man’s face. It was something beyond his complexion, his features, or his expression. Vasily recognized the man, not as the CEO, not as an assassin, but as someone all too familiar for Vasily to pass by. “He is just like me,” his last thoughts, as his father pulled the trigger for the second time that day.
Needless to say, Vasily never avenged his mother’s death. But at least he was safe with her.
Through the woods, camera in hand
Nature draws my lens open to show off its beauty
A babbling brook in the distance calls me forward
Take a stance, snap the frame
Nature draws my lens open to show off its beauty
A massive trunk split in half
Take a stance, snap the frame
Keep moving through the fresh fallen snow
Nature draws my lens open to show off its beauty
The setting sun glistening on the fresh crystal on the ground
Take a stance, snap the frame
Next, the light shines through the barren trees
Nature draws my lens open to show off its beauty
Hands cold and crisp, cringing in the wind
Take a stance, snap the frame
Through the woods, camera in hand
The Sun (pantoum)
It heats the world and gives creation life,
Without it only desolation would live,
There would be no time,
No time but night.
Without it only desolation would live
There would be nothing
No time but night
No sound, and no sight.
There would be nothing
Not even a motion
No sound, and no sight
All that would be is the darkness of night.
Not even a motion
Only the silence of calmness
All that would be is the darkness of night
It heats the world and gives creation life.
A Man Sips Coffee by the Window
By: Sarah Voellinger
A man sips coffee by the window.
The café is busy and bustling,
With lethargic, weary, grumps.
The man burns his tongue but doesn’t move.
The café is busy and bustling,
The workers can’t hear the orders.
The man burns his tongue but doesn’t move.
No one notices his corner in the front.
The workers can’t hear the orders.
Rush hour ends, the café is sinister and eerie.
No one notices his corner in the front.
A man sips coffee by the window.
Sickness
One morning you awake,
You are warm like freshly baked.
You lie there in your bed,
Being told it is only in your head.
You stay there all day,
Feeling like any minute you will wither away.
The doctor does the dance and song,
Then tells you there is nothing wrong.
Finally you’re back in bed,
“Could this really be in only my head?”
-Betsy Clark-
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