Posts
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Life Upon Lines
A pencil traces across a sheet of paper,
Creating lines, and curves,
Zigzags, and swirls.
Soon the lines will connect,
Forming images,
Sketches, and words.
Within these lines,
People,
Creatures, poetry, -
The Wind Blows
The wind blows,
Swaying the trees,
Making them speak,
And rustle.
The green leaves twirl,
And dance, along the branches,
Which seem to hum,
As the air rushes by.
They swing, and sway,
As if they are thinking, -
Golden optimism
The golden sun rises above the mountains,
Creating glimmers across the water
That look like smaller, brighter suns.
They dance and sparkle
Against the lake.
They jump and leap,
Creating a spectacle,
Beyond reality. -
Golden Sunshine
Warmth tingles my cheeks,
Like hot, golden sand is brushing across them,
Or as if tiny needles gently poke my skin.
The gentle heat relaxes me,
Like hot cocoa on a cold day.
It feels as if I’m being smothered by light, -
Bound With Possibilities
I look up at a night sky bound with possibilities,
Maybe life, maybe plants.
Perhaps a sea, filled with grass and flowers,
Or a mountain range, made entirely from water.
Could it be a planet just like our own, -
Stories and plots unraveling
Fresh open pages,
A musty old smell,
Etched onto paper, lie stories unravelling,
Adventures untangling,
A break from reality,
A mirror to your life.
Opportunities opening up,
New perspectives being handed to you,
Loves
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poster board signs/attend all the protests
the permanent marker squeaks across the page black sharpie mimic the scream rage & awareness & hands off hands off hands OFF MY BODY you call this democracy?
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Knuckles
Today the skin of my knuckles split. Blood made a little stain on the back of my hand, and it stung. I saw the splotch, at first, earlier in the day, anyway, and it wasn't too bad, just a little red circle.
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They Ask Me
The little kids
Ask for advice.
"What's middle school like? Seventh grade?"
They ask what to do and
Where to go and
What they should prepare for.
I could give them a list
Like my teachers gave me.
