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Aug 14

I wonder

I wonder,
Who scans the news
for word of another 
shooting?
Who waits with bated 
breath for news of the
injured,
and tallies of the dead?
Who steps out onto the lawn,
well before town 
and city stir,
to lower the flag.

And who,
who raises it once more?
Aug 09

One Thousand Days and Counting

Enjoy...

(1st verse)
White noise, check your conscience here
 She said in space there's no room for fear
She kept a picture by the door
 To remind her of the way things were before

(2nd verse)
"Houston, I'm never coming down
I'd rather watch the world keep turning 'round
Up here it's just my rocketship and me
And you can't cry in zero gravity
 She knows there's nothing for her there
As she sits up there breathing prepackaged air
She hates the feel of solid ground
Up here she's a queen without a crown

(pre-chorus)
Who the hell do you think you are?
Caught between Planet Earth and the local star
You better love it up there, sitting all alone
You're one thousand days and counting and you're still not coming home

(Chorus)
Just a sailor without a sea
A starspun curiosity
I've lost control
 
(3rd verse)
Aug 09
Eloise Silver Van Meter's picture

Becoming

All winter she has been waiting.
Waiting for the light to come; for the colors to fill her eyes.
She has dreamed of this moment,
heard stories, built subconscious expectations,
daydreamed about the day she would fall in love with her surroundings.
She has set goals for herself, compiled an itinerary for the season.
Spent countless hours preparing herself 
for what she imagines to be a beautiful birth
of the earth that has been subdued by the white sheets.

Though, now that she can smell the sweet air,
she finds herself in fear.
She is afraid of the knowledge she will cultivate.

How odd it is that the birth of so many colors can act as a mirror–– a mirror that defines only the
dark blues and violets within us.

She listened to her sorrows play their melody in her head,
Like merciless rulers, and she, a helpless peasant against her restless mind.

Trees turned into flowers, 
Aug 07

Under A Rainstorm



The sound of a rainstorm hitting 
my roof is the humid
scent of tomorrow morning's flowers.

A rainstorm composes its own song,
stringing together a different melody 
each minute -
never completely sure of which way to go
(lower or higher).

Rainstorms are dewdrops on
the deep green leaves and
soaked tree trunks.

Under a rainstorm,
things feel new.
Aug 05
Eloise Silver Van Meter's picture

Tree

They don’t understand
how my small body and developing mind
can hold so many leaves

How my feet go through suppression
yet hold the trunk that is my body,
they assume my toes are given space, my heels are moisture-filled, and my soles hold strong as roots.

They fail to understand 
the fact that my legs are 
constantly in insurrection,
they assume my knees willingly follow my energetic calves and 
my heavy thighs do not burden my every step.

They cannot fathom the drumbeat in my belly 
as I come near
nor do they understand the scars my back will never let go of.
They do not understand the tickle underneath my arms that guides me
nor the fixated position of my collar bones.

They assume the rain does not bother me, 
the burn of the breeze does not set aflame.

They find it hard to truly comprehend
the cracks in the skin on my neck,
Aug 03
AuctorHistoriarum's picture

Generation Z: Change Will Happen

 
Generation Z
“Change Will Happen”
 
We are Generation Z (born between 2001 and 2013). We are described as the “individualistic, and tech dependent” generation (Link). We and the Millennials(1980-2000) are  the generations that will inherit choices made by some of the lawmakers from the Baby Boomers(1943-1964) and the Silent Generation (1925-1942); from environmental issues, to gun violence, and social equity. We have to prepare or be ready to face the consequences of their decisions . So how do we prepare? 
 
Aug 03
AuctorHistoriarum's picture

Generation Z: Change Will Happen

 
Generation Z
“Change Will Happen”
 
We are Generation Z (born between 2001 and 2013). We are described as the “individualistic, and tech dependent” generation (Link). We and the Millennials(1980-2000) are  the generations that will inherit choices made by some of the lawmakers from the Baby Boomers(1943-1964) and the Silent Generation (1925-1942); from environmental issues, to gun violence, and social equity. We have to prepare or be ready to face the consequences of their decisions . So how do we prepare? 
 
Aug 01

Fear Is In The Eyes

Fear is in the eyes
of all those lost,
of all those forgotten,
of all those living,
and all that pools
with sentient emotion.
Fear is in the eyes
of all those caught,
of all those murdered,
of all those bleeding,
and all that cries
with tears too dry.
Fear is in the eyes
of the dainty-hearted,
of the sleep-induced,
of the living ghosts,
and all that dreams
with a face too pale.
Fear is in the eyes
of the cold blooded,
of the silent killer,
of the deadly seducer,
and all that tastes blood.
Fear is in the eyes
and the tight throat,
the drowning lungs,
the throbbing head,
and all that is a nightmare.

 
Jul 31

Tuesday Morning: Kitchen Contemplations

There is always time in the morning
between galaxies
and orange juice. 
 
If you had a jar with a lid
you would try to save it, 
give it to the girl 
with the pressed lips 
and the eyes that crinkle.

You’re not sure what to make
of half-built cities 
except that when they haunt you 
in your dreams the streets overflow with possibility 
and the rooftop ridgelines are hunched, 
bent at the hip, 
against the skyline. 
 
You’re still soft in the middle:
both raw 
and burnt 
and never giving up.
Jul 31

A Single Moment

Not a sound
can be heard
like time has stopped to marvel at this moment

Hovering above
I can feel its warmth
ever so gently on the surface of my hand

Its scent
fills the room
smelling of cool air on a summer night

A single candle
burns on the table
Its light dancing upon every surface

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