Friday, April 13, 2018

My Romeo
inspired by Baz Luhrmann's movie Romeo and Juliet

My crazy green met your warm hazel
it was love at first sight
your beautiness caught my gaze
did my heart love till now? forswear it sight!
for I ne'er saw true beauty till this night
only if I had known the true affair

we had danced away through many nights
you and your ways had me in a trance
you kiss by th' book
only took one look and I dreamt away

an ancient grudge break to a new mutiny,
where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

she was your Juliet and my best
the only thing I could fret
the new Juliet and you, my Romeo, were all
happy days, full of the joys of spring

I was full of greys
drowning in my own tears
my love is gone, whisked away
adored by another lover

o Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?
you are here stuck in my thoughts, 
with my racing mind and pacing legs
my heart aches
o teach me how I should forget to think, 
how could I live without my Romeo?

my hands and heart are cold
my thoughts are gone
tracing the edges of the weapon of choice
o happy dagger!

low and behold
my love, my knight in shining armor
o Romeo, but it is now too late.
I'll lay with you, my dear Romeo in another life.

o Romeo,
look at you, your hands are not clean
your toxic love stole a life
made her take a knife straight to the heart

not even eighteen but
yet had just seen thirteen
haven't seen much life
but decided to see the light
young and beautiful taken away because
of love at first sight.

"An arrow can only be shot by pulling it backward. When life is dragging you back with difficulties, just imagine that it's going to launch you into something great." -Author unknown

Over the river and through the woods to Grandmother's house by Monique Palmisano

Spring Time

By Jacquelyn Garcia-Estrada

The day is bright
The flowers bloom
The day seems right
Beeping cars zoom

Clouds come by
The day becomes dark
This is where I say bye
To a day at the park

The raindrops fall
The thunder roars
The tree tall
The wind slams the doors

A wonderful time
It’s Spring

Be Jeweled by Mila Barry

Monday, April 2, 2018

A Day in the Pen.
By Tyler Bryan

Jakob stared out the window
Demonic beings stared back through at him
As he stared he wondered “Where did my life go
All the demons did was laugh and wave around his limb.

He felt his arm but it was still there.
Yet still, in snake tongue, they chanted and sang.
It seemed that the only thing he didn’t have was his curly black hair.
And as the demons opened the window the phone rang.

“Mister Grimm, Your prescriptions are in.
“What are you talking about Sir?
“Take them or you’ll die in this loony bin.
“If this is a prank you are a real amateur.

As the doctor stared on at the man in the cell with the padded wall,

It seemed as if nothing was the only thing to do at all.

The Upsidedown World by Icaro Souza

"The meaning of life is to find your gift. The purpose of life is to give it away." -William Shakespeare

Monday, March 12, 2018

There was a Man I knew.
By Tyler Bryan

There was a man I knew
This man was Stark-Raving mad
His brain must have been askew
Even in the looney-bin, he looked Bad

The doctors didn’t know what to do with him
And his mouth seemed to be a bit foamy
Aloughth his name was John, he called himself Jim
His doctors decided that now it was time for a lobotomy

As they strapped him in the chair
And the brought out the tools
They discover he had no eyes there
Now they all looked like fools

This man may have been real or fake

But his madness was no mistake.

Blank Mind
By Avery Smith

I don't know what to write about
I don't have much creativity
For my other ideas, i had doubt
Writing is not my favorite activity

I have to write this before it's too late
I could write about many different subjects
But I still have nothing and tomorrow's the due date
I wish I was good with projects

I'm running out of lines
I don't have anything to write
I can't think of any more rhymes
And this poem is due tonight

I've still come up with nothing
I guess this has turned into something

By: Gianna Cabral

Despite the torn masterpieces somewhere along the road we became,
I bet an artist took their magical brush and painted us under the same sky for a reason
I know you can’t dance with the burning red embers of love without a flame,
Even if the colors from the fire change every damn season.

Just paint the dying tone of gray I’m smothered in with the beautiful shade of you
Because in order to be classified as an artist, you don’t necessarily need a degree
Even if my mood is always the same, dull Prussian blue,
It can easily be swirled with the cheery shade of yellow to become the red we are destined to be.

Although we might be two very different shades on the color wheel,
It only takes two to plaster your soft lips against mine
When we come together maybe we can finally heal,
Because there is a solution to every complimentary color, it will just take time.

Even though my love for you is like one big, exploding firework,
We come together in harmony to create the same beautifully damaged piece of artwork.

"Sunshine is delicious, rain is refreshing, wind braces us up, snow is exhilarating; there is really no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather."
~ John Ruskin

Petalled Sky by Fatemeh

Monday, February 12, 2018

Twilight Goal by Abbie Deyeso

Only a Face by Danielle Larrabee

Clowning Around by Icaro Souza

Teapot Envy

By Unknown

I sit on the cold stovetop all day long,
waiting to be used.
I watch as you use your Keurig to make delicious hot chocolate and steaming coffee.

It hurts to know you like him better, it really hurts.
I watch the mugs slowly start to enjoy his hot water more than mine,
and I feel betrayed.

I don’t have to be plugged in like does,
I don’t have a risk of technical difficulties like he does,
I am not full of myself LIKE HE IS.

Why can’t you see that I am a classic piece of hardware?
You put me on the burner across the counter from that guy,
I have to sit and watch you enjoy him all day.
You know how unfair that is?

I am angry at him for being so much better than me.
I am jealous of all the mugs that greet him.
I am sad because I love him.

Image result for hug
(Photo by IndieReader)

"They invented hugs to let people know you love them without saying anything."
By Bill Keane

Wednesday, January 24, 2018

Quotes about spring

~Author unknown

Oceans of Power - Billy Aubrey

Crashing waves, mighty and bold.
A liquid power that’s very old.
Its ancient strength still strong today,
Witnessed in a lake, sea, or bay.
It’s power unrelenting,
And waves unrepenting.
It can take down mighty ships,
And reduce them to chips.
The sea is rugged and rough.
The currents, flooded and tough.  
With waves that can devour,
A crash so strong it can cause a shower.
If the ocean is power,

Then it is no coward...

The Trumpeter
By: Christian Celentano
The beats of the drums shake the ground
The singer sings and the saxes sound
The bass the foundation for the blues of the heart
A man's own expression within his musical part

This band of the heart is quite a sight
With the whole spectrum of colors from black to white
Just a band full of people who want to exist
Led by the conductor with his directing fist

But a man in the back is the main event
People look past his skin and see his intent
He plays with such confidence no fear in his eyes
The blues he plays are as clear as the sky

The vibrations of the bass runs through his bones
The beat of the drums timed with his tones
The trumpeter at this time is no longer black
He's a man with a horn that never looks back

He looks so intense yet sounds lighter than air
He plays so strong yet harmless as a hare
His tones so beautiful in the way they rhyme
The harmony so deep it at points stops time

Yet a man with a horn is all he is
He Lives with his wife and two cute little kids
But his two little kids don’t know their dad with a horn
Lives in a world that's broken and torn

I remember that day could never forget
When his solo began he took off like a jet
The trumpeter played with no fear in his eye
But he didn't know after his show he would die

After it ended I went around the stage
Into the alley where the bricks showed their age
I saw four men with sticks and with bats
All wearing overcoats and small rimmed hats

I peaked around the corner to observe the scene
These men looked unhappy and most certainly mean
I prayed that the trumpeter wouldn’t arrive
And I thought of when he played how he looked so alive

Then suddenly I saw the door start to crack
One man gave a signal and they began to attack
A swift bat to his head hit with such deadly force
The man swinging on his face showed no remorse

The beating was quick but felt like forever
But finally, the men had finished their endeavor
They all ran off I was left in shock
As the trumpeter lay there still as a rock

I sat in the alley where the trumpeter lie
And saw the emptiness within his bruised eye
The warm blood from his face pooled on the ground
And all I heard was a dull moaning sound

I ran to his body took his head in my hands
This was just a man who was in a band
The skin that was black was turned blue and red
The trumpeter died, my lap his deathbed (changed the ground to my lap)

I couldn't remember how long I stayed
I just tried to think of how he played
The tears from my eyes they fell on his face
Oh how I wished I could have taken his place

I sat for a while my heart had such pain
And then I felt the cool wet droplets as it began to rain
I walk home in tears wishing it was a dream
And I would wake to the smell of coffee with cream
(Shortened last line)

On that night the band lost a member
On a  cold rainy night in the middle of September
His two cute little kids lost their dad
By some blinded men who did something bad

But what would be different if this man was white
It would not fix this horrific sight
And if the four men who killed him happened to be black
They still would have killed him and would have never looked back

The man that was killed was neither white nor black
He was a man with a horn in the pack on his back
The world was torn and broken  no matter his race
Yet he played with such tones that floated through space

I was born a man with eyes that are blind
But the scene of that night was engraved in my mind
But by having closed eyes  I saw his intent
I did not use eyes, my ears held my judgment

Either way, a trumpeter was killed
And I felt the puddle of warm blood from his head that he spilled
And the tears from my eyes fell on his face
Whether he was black or white I wish I took his place

I am now a trumpeter in a similar space
But in a world that no longer cares about race
People learned my trick and there was an advancement
They just looked past my skin and saw my intent

I have two little kids and a lovely wife
And a wonderful house and a beautiful life
The trumpeter was a man with a horn in his hand
He died to give me his spot in the band