I Stand and Observe by Claire Frank
I stand and observe the struggles in my country, and
the chaos and depression within,
I observe the freezing man living on the streets, knowingly
begging in vain, hungry and distrusted,
I observe me sobbing violated victim, shunned, misunderstood,
blamed, unable to get help,
I observe the violator of women strut away unchallenged and
unprosecuted, already searching for the next victim,
I observe the disorderly drunkard, the stench of alcohol on his
breath as he takes out his frustrations on his child,
I observe the depressed teenager, detached, cutting,
contemplating a quick end,
I observe the innocent man bleeding out into the street,
randomly gunned down, confused, questioning,
I stand and observe everything – all of the violence and confusion,
the sadness and pain,
observe, understand, and overlook
Augmented Reality - Aron Swanson
Siddhartha, nesting in your head
What an honor
for reading the Book of the Dead
Ducking bowing submerging
silently signaling others
the quaint perfection pours
purple covers over their eyes
Gifting each nerve with new sight
They’ve gotten control, become fearless
while daffodils and sun
give up suchness
flowering foliage of a million bright ambassadors
shine through our eyes
Walking back from heaven
I realize I can do no harm
they must be mistaken
arrest me of murder?
Eyes lifting off jurors mallet
across the sea of faceless peers
across the grainy film of ghastly doings
of which I have no recollection
red pools spilling from broken jaw lines
smashed eyeballs and peeled bones
my expression of pure ecstasy
became a sobering
from nirvanic distate
I plead insanity
Untitled by Becca Nordseth
I am trapped within this barricade
Blocking me from the outside world
It looks harsh as it stands there stationary
I sigh at its strong stance
Because I know it’s unbreakable
It tastes of confinement and enclosure
As I touch this thing that is prohibiting my escape
I feel sharp prickly wood that pokes into my skin
It feels strong and sturdy
When I inhale I can smell my lack of freedom
I listen to this object
It is quiet, with nothing to say
Its silence stares back at me
And laughs at my enclosure
This thing makes me feel stuck and caged
It gives me a strong urge to escape
This object will block me from the outside world.
The clanging and clacking
Against the bowl,
The smell of ice cream
Makes it whole,
The cold hard feel
That chills my soul,
The tasteless silver
Takes its toll,
The shine and sparkle
Far from dull,
The sister of the fork
The anonymous troll,
The assistance it gives
From hunger to full.
He strides to class,
Walking swiftly towards third block English.
He swarms through the crowd,
his feet slither down the hallways,
side by side,
in perfect synchronization.
When lunch arrives,
he stands before me at the lunch line.
He stands erect,
He stands beautifully.
His hair shines amidst
the cafeteria air.
His nonchalant gestures flow with ease,
I can feel a “hello” bubbling
on the tip of my tongue,
but I can’t whisper
He soon parts from me,
as if drawn by the current.
the bell rings.
I was never able
to muster the courage
to say hello.
The Electric Fence
By: Erica Walker
“So, what is your name?” I knew as soon as I asked my shaky, silent lab partner this question, I couldn’t go back. His mysterious, bad-boy image somehow attracted me to him. Glancing at his features was like staring at stars on a dark night; you know that they’re there, but you don’t know what story lies behind each star.
He finally answers, “James, you?” His child-like voice made me even more interested in him.
“Cary,” I mentioned as I extended my hand to meet his.
His gentle, strong hands meet mine and that’s when it hit me: my palms felt as if I had a firm grip on an electric fence. From then, our conversations eventually became longer and our distance from each other became shorter.
I noticed his struggling grade in science, so I followed my instincts. “James, do you need help studying for our unit test on Tuesday?”
“M’fine.” That’s all he ever said when I tried to take our friendship a step forward.
“I can tell from that D,” I proved to him.
“So I’m below you, is that what you’re saying?” he asked, as his childish voice escalated to an adult-like scold. Before I had a chance to defend myself, he continued his rant, “Jus’ cause I get one bad grade, means I won’t be successful? Are you trying to make me feel bad; cause it worked.”
Those were the last words James ever said. Why he did it, no one will ever know.
Toddlers lying on a quaint bench feeling the sea breeze,
Young boy wearing azul overalls that cut off on the knees,
Young girl cheesing because the boy said, “Kiss me please!”
While the sun caresses the infants skin on a warm illuminated day of the week,
Meanwhile blue birds and beige bees laying on flowers and trees,
Singing a lovely melody that makes anyone fond to breathe,
Small smooth thin lips spell out “I love thee, so be with me.”
Blonde Bandits bringing brightness for the world,
Relationship since three years old,
Small boy and small girl.
Burning coldness on my head,
Shivering heat upon my legs,
The Weather parted the Land,
Now the weather’s staying instead,
Peaceful brutality of winds,
Intertwined with the sensation of a losing win,
Thumping of thunders silently upon Earth,
Screaming whispers to the Tierra while they violently curse.
Posted by Jennifer C. at Monday, March 18, 2013
Zen to Zen
Ooh I echo, along the insides of my head
Watch as I drip through the cataclysm’s spread
Who have I come to know as me?
a second-rate nominee, only meant to sightsee?
blind coincidence teeters at my helm
seems to reason why I overwhelm
I’m not evil nor just, not pious or lust
not a lover or a fighter,
lost of all law, I become much lighter
like a good bonfire, I burn
like sewers waster, I churn
Are we not fiction of our own design, you and I?
Are our packaged personalities not as transparent as sky?
They say when become you zen becomes zen
And would not the pale and dull become brighter men?
Well in the midst of this knowledge we still feel dull
With no feeling of serenity’s secret passing lull
Devoted a life to freedom and jaunt
Left with empty desire and want
Nature or nurture how are we played?
Inciting us to this countenance charade
ultimately learning we are passive and weak
even at our highest terrestrial peaks
changing our beliefs day by day,
wondering if from ourselves we can stray.