star

star

NH

15 years old

Posts

  • By star

    June

    The blue sky soars with promise
    hope
    inspiration.
    School can barely even count as school
    and before I know it
    it's over,
    an end
    and yet a beginning all the same.
    And then it's full of
    jumping into the pool
  • By star

    Embers

    We have been left the embers
    of a fire
    for us to burn.
    We have been left to create
    future generations
    who will never see snow.
    We have been left with a circumstance
    that is the doing of our ancestors
  • By star

    Your poem

    We each stood at the front of the classroom in turn,
    voices stumbling over the words of the poem
    we were forced to recite,
    hands twisting, feet tapping,
    excited to be back at our desks, where we were
    alone
    unnoticed
    safe.
  • By star

    a normal day

    Dark purple creeps into the black of night
    when I first pry my sleep-filled eyes open 
    wishing I could remain within my warm cocoon of blankets
    one second longer.
    My head pounding with fatigue,
    I arise

Loves

  • A Day To Remember

    The play begins at a school auditorium with Harley, Mei, and Grant working on their lines on stage, Harley practicing dialogue to Mei and Mei responding with the two standing on upstage right, Grant is testing his sound cues he made

  • Post

    I know you went running

    yesterday

    and your kids had a great

    first day of school

    picture, anyway,

    I wore overalls too

    but everyone will think

    I was copying you

    won't they didn't they

  • this is not about water

    it was like a sink that was overflowing, built up and up and up.

    then it was drained; the pipes rusted over; the slight drip and drip and drip.

    tantalizing.

    then the water rushed like geysers do, hot and momentarily solid.

  • i am a poet

    i see things that no human ever should:

    the intricate coding of life

    an emotion held by the gaze of one person to another

    a tear falling silently that helps grow a daffodil.

    i am a poet

  • Come On

    Come on,

    just another step.

     

    Come on,

    just another breath.

     

    Come on,

    just another swallow

    of the pain that makes you hollow.

     

    Just one more sweet smile

  • generational

    My grandmother never cut flowers with scissors, raised her nonexistent eyebrows plucked beyond all veins of recognition, blinked one eye fishlike & said a knife was all she needed.