May 10


Today this kid wrote a sincere thank you letter to me.
He wanted to thank me for being his friend.
For talking to him,
During our 7th period jazz band class.

He said he's never been so scared in his life
As when he came to the first rehearsal,
And a few rehearsals after that.
His thick black curly hair, thin shoulders and worried eyes. 
He proceeded to tell me how he was simply grateful
I started talking to him,
I was grateful he answered me.
He did this wide eyes stare that was slightly off putting
Like he was suprised a ghost just entered a room.
I joked about it to him,
teasingly asking him if he was, in fact, ok
On account of he looked scared,
I'd then mimic the face.
This became our little game.
We'd pass by in the hallway,
separate friend groups
different classes,
unrelated agendas
And he'd make this face at me, through his mask
May 09

Electric Violin

A little round stump sat somberly in a corner of the large wood shop.
It had holes from a fungus and dust from the floor
It was rounded, so if looking from the top it was a lopsided C shape.
It was chopped down four hours away 
And took a road trip until it got to its little destination,
Hoping someone would see its unnatural beauty.
Coupled with a spalted maple
And new strings for the soul.
the little round stump dawned a new electric role. 
Apr 30


panda doesn't understand the racial parts of humans
the region and ethnicity, ceo or shoeman.
He sits and eats bamboo all day
sometimes decided to romp or play
And never cares for his appearance,
He's looking for a cozy clearance.
Panda doesn't get the fact that we colonize and group appart
Hair and skin or short and thin he really has to fart.
His little snout will burry down
to find some food or scrounge around
then, he climbs upon a tree
With padded paws so gracefully.
Panda can not comprehend the humans image problems
He's roundish, floudnish,, almost soundless 
A boop-ish, squash-ish face. 
He doesn't get the racism,
He's content, it doesn't phase him.
He doesn't get the big idea 
as he's black, and white, and asian...
Apr 17

What a strange ... dream?

I had a dream I overslept
and forgot to brush my teeth!
I ate a stale frittata,
and a couple bites of beef.
Wore a pink and yellow sock,
forgot my keys my doors unlocked,
and threw a load of laundry in
because I tripped over the bin.
Lugged my book-bag out the door,
put on my shower shoes,
missed the bus by twenty minutes,
so had to bike to school.

Almost hit a squealing pig
(it might have been the owner),
ruined someone else's grass
as I sped around the corner.
Forgot my essay back at home
and lucky me, forgot my phone;
somehow my mother heard me curse
(and, yes, somehow that's even worse).
Did a presentation
in my shower shoes and pj's,
cheated on a math test 
and got busted (as always).
Was sent down to the office
and the teacher gave me tea ...
we talked about her puppy
and Harry Potter three.

Scuttled down to lunch 
Mar 31

Nothing but Green$

Recently cash has been in my head,
I would like to say it was produced in my hands as well
But alas,
as money makes the world go round
so does it make my head spin.
The thought of it makes a wet glob in my frontal lobe
And produces not doubt, or fear, or even worry,
Just water. 
Seeping between the wrinkles in my brain
and oozing out my ears.
Large numbers,
Number which as children we think or huge
Suddenly don't cover a months rent.
And five, six zeros is only met with a thin lined smile now
Because ten or eleven zeros are needed.
But we grab Kleenex,
And sponges,
and band aids,
and pat dry the water tinged red with blood 
That was dripping out our nose.
We make a fist with the damp napkins
and stuff them in our inner most pockets,
our hearts
Where there they fester.
until a temporary remedy is concocted,
Or sleep chases the numbers away for a small while
Mar 25

Leap of Faith

That leap of faith
I sometimes take
are strides without my thinking
Instead of calculating length
I do some rapid blinking.
As I teeter on the edge of life
or death
between. Whichever.
I do not think before I leap
I pray that I'm a feather.
I tend to hold my breath and go
as inhales push you down.
grounding, planting both feet on reality;
The ground.
I'd rather see the glass half full
or imagine that there's liquid
leaping blind with higher hopes
And flying on that fiction.
For if i doubt, betray, mistrust
miscalculate the flight
Then I will sink
Godspeed goodnight
I tripped on my own doubts. 
So leaps of faith
I sometimes try
I do with little thought.
Because if I thought hard enough
I'd stop before I'd start.
'Cause I'd be scared 
too realistic 
to actually make the jump. 
For if I look before I leap
Mar 09


I have this cage around my chest
its metallic and bared so close together
My lungs can not properly expand.

Each breath stings my sternum 
As if its a titanium pole
that can not and will not bend
to cater to my abdomens movements.

My inhale is met with a tension in my shoulders
and this burning pulse close to my heart
while each exhale only makes me balloon further,
Until I'm a soda can waiting for
the carbonated bubbles to rise to the surface.

Its a weight.
heavy, heated, heightened
and as my blood pressure rises 
My hands try to relive my chest
of this strange pressure
By massaging.
Fighting for my lungs to open
Without bothering to find the key that made it close.

Because where that key is hidden 
might be worse than the metal bars. 
Mar 03

Unlike Me

A poem by Sienna (my sister!) 

Drawing is not like writing.
It isn't, not a bit.
They say its worth a thousand words,
But you don't write in it.
The shadow that I'm in
Is a writer,
Unlike me.
Its just, oh so hard,
To write A quality poetry.
The shaow has a name,
that everybody knows,
While people just no me as,
"Wait, how does her name go?"
The shadow is always on the news letter
Of course, 
unlike me.
Just 'cause shadow is a writer,
and does poetry.
Shadow is so much better,
its the captain of the team.
Of course,
unlike me.
I just don't write poetry.
Shadow is just older.
Of course,
unlike me.
Shadow's good at writing poetry.
Unlike me.
But I'll rise up above,
So soon,
Oh you'll see.
Because soon shadow will be, 
Oh so,
Unlike me. 
Feb 26

Zoom Prez

Can everything out...nicely... for my presentation
For once.
No WiFi issues,
No glitchy screen,
Can I find my power cord before my computer dies,
I don't want to hear 'your muted'
or worse,
Your UNmuted
because heaven knows what I've been saying.
What Disney lyrics come out of my mouth
What Alisha Keys note I fail to hit.
How embarrassing.
No awkward zoom silences
Where your eyes are shifting between boxes
Wondering if now means a glitchy blink
or a hand movement that may or may not have been
from two minuets ago- depending on the WiFi. 
No weird backgrounds, 
funny hats,
eyebrow filters.
High pitched mic sounds from devices.
No embarrassing share screens,
Or long expeditions for the blue hand icon
None of it.
I just need you to work with me ok?
You can do it.
Feb 20

But Why?!

Y'all were cutting it close.
(I can say that know because everyone's turned it in).
But really? really?!
You submit the day of the deadline.
You make me wait, open, in your tab
My shiny classroom folder cover, wire holder
or my pixilated box just sits there.
Sometimes for over two weeks
Because you decided to submit one hour
One MINUET before its due!
Do you know the anxiety that puts me through?!
The pain of wanting all y'all to do well.
Get good grades,
Be good students,
But how can I cheer you on,
What happened to yesterday at 2pm?
Or the weekend before at 7pm?
Or the day before at 4am?
or any time before 11:55pm because IM SLEEPING!
And ma'am.