Dec 08

Six Strings

Dec 08

Wasted


the ink
splatters
across the page

wasted

...

like flower blossoms
in the fall wind
remembering their days
in the spring
when they could fly
now all they do is drift
and shrivel
in the dead possibility

...
wasted

when the ink 
splattered
across the page
Dec 08

The Mountain

I was once
told
that those who
could not
climb the mountain
did not
deserve
to see the view

I've seen the view,
and
I've known
the top
many times

but for just as many
summits I've had to turn back
because of rain
or
thunder
or
lightning
or
hail
or
maybe it was just because
someone didn't want me up there

and for those who can not climb the mountain
it
may have been
any of those reasons--
because of rain
or
thunder
or
lightning
or
hail

but maybe it wasn't
one of those
reasons...

what if it wasn't their fault?

what if it was no ones fault?

what if no one could have had any say?

and do they still deserve to stare
at the mountains that they have yet to
climb knowing that they never can?
Dec 07

January, Third Grade

Dec 06
poem 0 comments challenge: Say

Strings

it
seems
that the strings
between us 
are growing 
increasingly thin

everyday
i can see that
you're being pulled
slightly farther
away from me

but please remember 
who you are
and
who i am

and
the moments that
we've shared

and please remember
how well I know you

and
that I have been, and always will be, 
here for you
when you need me

it
seems
that the strings
between us 
are growing 
increasingly thin
...
i can't mend them alone
Dec 06

So What Does That Make Us?


i'm
doing
social
studies
homework
and
writing
notes
on
whether
our
constitution
was
pro
or
anti
slavery

all
i
can
think
is
"what
if
it
was
pro?"

"what does that say
about who we are as a country?"

"what does it say
about who we are at the roots of us as a people?"

it hurts to
learn
         the
              real
                     facts

and the
fact
that we talk about it so carelessly
disgusts me

people in my class say
"i feel bad for them"

they're talking
about the slaves

prisoners of war
that were bought and sold
like property,
taken from their home,
forced to learn a new
everything,
forced to change who they were

they were brought over on boats
Dec 05

morning scene


the fog creeps in
over the hills
of dew
and grass
and wet

vermont
mountains
i think they're
they greens
give the picture a backdrop

my apple trees
rise from the fog
like hands
grasping for the sky
above

i can't see the birds
but i know
that they're
there
singing their songs

the drops of
mist
and fog
and dew
cling to the window

fogging it
like my breath is doing
what a glorious
scene it was the this morning
when

the sun peeked it's head over the
horizon
to gaze
down on the world
of fog
Dec 05
poem 1 comment challenge: Contrast

Decision

I see so many things in you from when I saw you last

yet so many things have changed

But I still can't trust you

(even though) you're older, smarter, wiser

wiser *scoff*

Truly I see who you're trying to be though

I can't let it go

Even though I need to forgive

I still reflect

and it was years ago

And I still wonder why

I'm making a big deal of it:

why you did it, was it me, or was it just you

I need to let go of some things

but I can still learn

Even now I'm faced with the decision:

Do I forgive and remember, or do I hold a grudge for something that happened years ago
Dec 05
poem 0 comments challenge: Ask

the bird's wings glistened in the light of the sun

Dec 05

extraordinary in the ordinary

before
we
learned
anything
everything
was
possible

unicorns
were
still
real
and
we
still
saw
fairies
outside
our
windows

wishes
were
made,
on
stars
that
still
danced
and
shot
across
the
sky,
with
the
utter
faith
that
they
would
come
true

things
in
the
universe
were
made
out
of
imagination
not
particles
and
formulas
and
the
stories
we
heard
always
had
a
happily
ever
after

but,
now,
we
know
too
much
too
still
believe
in
the
easter
bunny
and
magic

but
i
think
it's
not
just
the
fact
that
we
have
our

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