Jan 21

Here, fix this

"Here, fix this."
They say, handing out the homework.
I stare at the world - er worksheet.
This is a problem I can't go alone.
The world is heating,
what am I supposed to do?
The oceans are rising,
what am I supposed to do?
Species are dying,
what am I supposed to do?
We are dying...
what am I supposed to do?
I raise my hand,
"What am I supposed to do?"
The billionaire - er teacher looks up.
"Fix it."
Nobody is working,
we are all solemnly staring at
our world - er worksheet.
It's quiet,
I can hear the clock ticking away
the seconds we have left.
The CEOs - er teacher tells us to hand them in.
I am the last to hand mine in.
I notice no one wrote anything on theirs.
We sit down.
I raise my hand again.
"What was the answer?"
The president - er teacher looks startled.
He doesn't say anything.
"Never mind,"
Jan 20

Birthday Blues

I'm old.
The last day being the age I am is - the same.
And yet I'm scared.
Funny how one number can make you think about everything that's happened
I only look back longingly,
because I'll never get those years back.
And strange enough I want them back.
I miss them - and as of tomorrow -
I feel I won't be able to get them back at all.
Only in pictures.
I'll be the same me - but with a different number.
But that number I left, all of them, still mean a lot to me.
Each time I leave one - I miss it.
Each time I gain one, I'm scared at what it will bring.
Each time I look ahead - I'm excited-
But when it finally arrives, I shy away from it again.
And yet it manages to stare back at me on a birthday cake.
And I'm forced to face the new age, the new me, head on.
With fire and wax.
And then it falls upon me - like a familiar T-shirt. And I wear it proudly.
Jan 20

The Girl on the Bus

A baby cried
Tucked under a mother's bouncing arm
Two old women talked
Their coin purses pinched between gloved fingers
A boy graffitied his name on the window
A girl stuck her gum under the armrest
Clearly tired with the flavor
Most everyone sat in the lime green seats
Swaying as the subway hurled down the tunnels
They watched their screens
Swiping past the photos they took
And those they wish they took
Eyes absorbing the images
Like a child sucking down a milkshake
But they were immune to such pain
The same thing that ruined their life
Was the thing they coped with
Never wanting to let go of the screen in their hand
Till it molded to their fingers
Their necks bent 
Earbuds snug in their ears
Fading into the wallpaper
Their voice not their own
But one of those on the screen
I stood swaying in the aisle 
Hand firmly gripping the pole
Jan 18


Sure, we're not the best team.
In fact, this was our first win this season
But we won anyway.
That was us 
WE scored those points
WE made those awesome plays
WE worked our butts off. 
Yeah, that was US!
WE had the confidence 
WE worked perfectly together 
WE had the strength to go for it.
We won anyway.
SO WHAT if we aren't perfect 
SO WHAT if we weren't right every time 
SO WHAT if the odds were against us.
That was us.
We won anyway. 


Jan 15

The Reason I Met the Universe

I just met the universe.

You may think, "What?".

But indeed I did.

I just met the universe.

Sometimes, I like to think that you can't possibly be lonely,

unless you haven't met the universe.

The universe is like a friend.

It's always there for you.

You look up,

it's right there,

soaring high above treetops,

skimming skyscrapers,

racing through mountaintops.

Yes, the universe is a wonderful thing.

Just positively wonderful.

I have no regrets about my life so far.

Do you know why?

Because I just met the universe.

Jan 15

Holding Her Hand

When she is born you hold her close. You caress her small, soft head as you put her to sleep. You hold her hands as her small pudgy feet pad across the white carpet. She clings to you fiercely as you urge her onto the bus for her first day of school. Your smile is her only reassurance. When she gets onto a bike without training wheels for the first time, you give her shoulder a squeeze, then grip the back of her seat. You give her a thumbs up and she’s off. You walk with her, then run, still holding onto the seat. You finally let go. She flies down the street, as if you were still holding on. But then she starts to teeter, and her feet can’t keep up with the pedals. She tips over and falls. She gets hurt. It’s not the only time. All you can do is put Band-Aids on her cuts and wipe away her tears. It surprises you when you realize that you're the one crying. Crying as you watch her walk across the stage and accept her diploma. That day, she had to be the one to wipe away your tears. You begin to see her less and less as she pursues her future. She used to never want to let go. But now, your relationship is made up of small gestures. A wave, a hug, a kiss on the cheek, a letter, a card, an email, a text. When you see her again you're lying on a cot, machines beeping and buzzing around you. You thought you might never see her again. You know she didn’t mean to, but she left you behind. But you would never say anything. You would never hold her back. So when she walked into that room, tears streaming down her face, but still smiling, you were content. She stayed by your side all night. Fell asleep holding your hand, head resting on your lap. That was all you needed. Just to see her one last time. You could let go now. You knew she’d be okay, and so would you. You didn’t need to hold her hand anymore, and she didn’t need to hold yours.
Jan 13

October 10th

Yesterday was Yom Kippur &
someone fueled by hate
went to a synagogue
with the intention to hurt.

One of the girls in my class is Jewish,
and today she pulled out her prayer book 
that she had been holding to her chest all day
to read the mourning prayer to everyone.

She said that since she heard the news,
that prayer book had stayed close
to her. She told everyone that
it made her feel better,
reminded her of forgiveness,
and God.

And I thought that
I wished I had a prayer book
of my own 
and a God of my own
to guide me like this girl
was guided by her faith.

I thought, it sounds nice
to always have a hand to hold.

Jan 12
Eloise Silver Van Meter's picture

When I Speak of Magic

When I think of magic
I’m immersed in the swamp behind my home
holding pine trees and an old yellow birch
with mysterious scaly vines
that I used to climb on and become a creature other than human.
The woods where I would be running 
away from what mythical beast would 
be so envious and intrigued by my delicate fairy wings and hysterical joy and rosy cheeks,
the mysticism I held in my smile.
––leaping over the creek, the snap of a branch––
And the runner’s high would kick in
and I would smile and then cry out of fear
and I couldn’t feel my heartbeat and it was as if I was dead or dreaming
but then I felt it again and focused on
running jumping leaping dodging skipping

When I think of magic
It is writing poetry on the college-ruled lines
when subtly my head moves to a melody
Jan 11
poem 1 comment challenge: Unusual
isabelle.chen's picture

The Sun and The Moon

She was the brightest of complexions.
Bathed among the wisps of morning kindle.
The ignition of intense light sought out upon the vivid sky.
From the outside, she was golden in every way
Looking oh so perfect amidst the clouds.
For she was the sun,
Standing proudly above.

He sat back in the shadows,
Observing her closely.
He could see the great toll it took to uphold her hardships.
To blaze the brightest out of everyone.
But her color, the fullest at day
Was duller towards night.
So the moon sat up to his fullest height
And paraded towards the sun.
Without words exchanged,
The sun knew the purpose of the moon’s descent.
A silent understandment between the two.
She steadily retreated back but not before she shimmered bright one last time.
Directing her gratitude at the moon.
She closed her eyes to rest
And the moon called out to his star companions.
Jan 10


When you breathe, breathe in happiness
Thoughts of what you could be if there was peace.
Circle your hand in the water
It goes around forever, it breathes with you.
If you rest, let your whole body rest
Lie back into the waves and let them carry you.
This is life. It is yours and it is peaceful. 
Blow bubbles into the water
And play with what the world has given you
Like a dolphin splashing through the waves
Nothing ends
At the horizon. 
Come back to your roots
The childhood that you once played in
Enjoy that forever.
Feel your toes on the sandy, muddy earth. 
Reach out and smile.
You can always come back
To where you once knew what happiness was.
Dive down under the water.
It is there to hold you when you need it. 
Breathe always, 
Balance carries the world on its shoulders. 
Laugh into the wind
It whips your hair and laughs with you. 
Jan 09

Mind in the stars

The World is a development

Success has created an alternate ego

For our minds

Many times I wonder

Whether the world has a family

Where they are from

Why they are here

And what does the world think

Of what we are doing
Childhood dreams

Are like sleeping houses

Lying among the reeds

Seaweed intermingles with translation

Old papers and ambition

Swirl together

Opening the secrets 
Some days are like finding


Walking through trees

There are old things here

We only have things left

To find
So turn the page

Just turn the page

And find the new story

Moonlight and starlight

Turning dreams

Turning moonlights dreams

Into reality 
Already before us

The sun was born
Jan 06

To the Boy Who Danced in the Cafeteria Before the Bell

I am often not who I think I am. 
When I was in 6th grade I counted birds
out of the bus window on my way to school. 
I dreamed about flying as much as falling from high places. 

Today the lunch lady smiled back
when I said: "thank you". 

Today, the music resonated from the cardboard speakers
like a tired bee
and became little more than my miracle. 

He is a flash of wild hair and flailing arms
and freedom that washes away down the white hallway,
flooding every imprisoned brick with electric orange. 

If he was a paint color his name would be "Awake". 

I wanted to join him. 
I wanted to find joy in simplicities,
like cafeteria music on a Monday afternoon.  

He probably used to count birds too. 
He has already become my lighthouse. 

Jan 06

-SONG- Words for an Empty Street (How You Left it to Be)

   how you left it to be.m4a

   I haven't posted a song in a while! I have so many that I'm going to try and record, but this one I wanted to record and post as soon as possible; I'm kind of proud of it, even though at the same time I dislike it -the self-inflicted curse of songwriting. It's supposed to be the theme of a short movie I'm working on, but that's not even close to being done yet, so for now, here's the song! (Constructive criticism much appreciated!) 

Walk to a place
Down in the rain
Drowning in plain old everyday
Pockets and a tired face
Just go along
Ignoring that empty space

Places, things
I can't recall
Done with it all, in a way
Breathing through the empty days
Just go along
Dig deeper a hiding space

'Cause things have a way
Of falling into place
Jan 05
poem 2 comments challenge: CJP-Iran

ey iran

we watch the news and 

there are angry tears 
a lot, nowadays. 

being an iranian 
in america is terrifying 

knowing that both the countries
you are a part of hate each other
poisons you from within, 

my mother prays for the people
who are detained at the border
who share our stories, 

share our features,

share our country.

my father prays for our family,
for all the people left behind,
who share our faces,

share our blood,

share our love. 

i pray for ourselves because 
they taught us what happened during
world war two and

you can love the u.s 

but not trust it. 

i never realized how quickly this country
could change its mind about you, 
but then the travel ban happened, 
and now this, 

my people are not criminals, 
Jan 04
Roses and Summer Dreams's picture

Country Wind

It's a boring car trip, just listening to Ariana Grande and occasionally singing along to it. The three of us sit there, six eyes. A pair on the road, a pair glued to their phone and one pair in their own world. As I start to recognize the surroundings, I happily roll down my window. (Of course, first I have to take my hair out of its usual ponytail and let it flow dramatically in the wind.) My cousin puts down her phone and rolls her window down as well. 
There is a hint of the salt water marsh in the wind. I let out a little squeal. Before we know it, we are both laughing hysterically with our mouths wide open. It was the wind. It made us insane. My uncle speeds up and we are zooming into the wind, laughing and squealing. By the time we get out of the car, we can't stand up straight. The wind has made us so loopy that we stay that way for the rest of the night. 
Now, we roll our windows down every time we drive past that salt marsh.
Jan 04

A Little Boy Named Thomas

The kid’s name is Thomas, Tom for short. 

I know this, as does the entire grocery store, because he is wandering around, tugging on the sleeves of strangers, and introducing himself as such, cracker crumbs dropping from his mouth. Nobody asked where his mother is, or what he is doing, toddling around by himself, which was surprising, considering he looks just days over five years old. 

It didn’t take long before it was my purse strap he was yanking. 

“My name is Thomas, Tom for short!” he spittles, looking up at me with giant, round eyes. I can almost see my reflection in them. 

“Hello, Tom! My name is Annie.”

“Hi, Annie!” he beams up at me. 

Crouching down, I ask him where his parents are. The smile that was radiating from his face milliseconds ago vanishes in an instant. 
Jan 03

Shadows Through The Veil

They’re peeking from behind the great grey pines. Their trunks seem as though they’re tall enough to reach to High Heaven. I see them in my dreams. When I close my eyes, they peer at me with their large spotlights. They move gracefully and quietly. They’re shadows, but they feed on me. The longer I stare, the closer they are. There are no birds in this place of silence, only a soft thumping. Foliage scatters across the forest floor, but there is nothing but death. Death, he who lurks at me, he who cannot be seen the way I see the shadows, crumbles beneath my bare feet as I walk through the veil between what is and what is not. A vibration tickles my body. It pulses like a heartbeat and paralyzes me. The further I walk, the harder it is to move. The harder it is to move, the closer I am to its source. The closer its source, the less I am. Whispers reverberate off of rough bark and return to me.

Jan 02
22donam's picture


Its January 2, 2020. I never thought I would live to see this day. Not in a ¨I'm gonna die young kinda way¨, but actually conceiving that 2020 is a real year has been a difficult task. It feels like I'm on a precipice, depending on which way I lean my life could change forever. But maybe it will be just another year, one more year of my life, it doesn't sound like much but time moves slowly at the start. It's not like it's anything impressive, lasting till the next decade, but it just astounds me at how fast my life can move sometimes. I coulda sworn it was 2014 like last year.
Jan 01

this year

my life
has come
a wonderful point
I know where I am 
and I can see what I want
I have a wonderful family
and friends I can rely on 
what else could I ask for?
I have what I need 
but I guess I can always find something new to accomplish 
whether it's learning to mountain bike
or how to love some one
I will put my mind
my heart
my soul 
and my entire  being 
into it
my resolution this year
is to never give up
never let go 
and always be learning and expanding my mind
heart and soul. 
Dec 31

The Happiness of Mine

The calandar has made me sad.
I look to see the date:
One week left till school returns - I really hate my fate.
I like to learn - don't get me wrong,
but drama comes with school.
Unlike the winter break so calm,
education comes with duel.
I hate to deal with people
who I know are fake to me.
I hate to be the buffer between
the drama and the tea.
This winter break has been the best.
I wrote so many rhymes, I've appreciated music,
and I've watched some shows on line.
I even baked a little... and the house is in one piece!
I wrote a song in Christmas spirit
I ate four different feasts!
I spent more time with family
not studying for tests.
My brain was much less frazzled 
and I slept in - I GOT REST.
So, you see I don't want break to end.