War

By Drew Highsmith

Bullets flying around the sky
Soldiers trying to survive, die.
And don’t make it alive which is,
Sad so all I do is cry.

Iraq is where we fought but now,
We are somewhere lying around.
Trying to dodge bullets from people
Hearing every little bit of sound.

Bombs blowing up our forts we used.
My own team which was being accused.
Being not only brave but smart.
Was one thing that we did not lose.

There was a lot of killing done.
In any way it wasn’t fun.
But on the bright side my team won.
But on the bright side my team won.

Where the Rivers Meet

By Diamante Maldonado

The person canopied in the nightshade
The white cat against the uniform ink
The dot of yin in the yang

I am all of these
The sunlight
And the shadows of the rays 

The delicate of the petals
And the harshness of the thorn
This is okay because
There cannot be shadow without light

So we are alright
And if we are not
We must grasp
Our light

Staying Forever Strong

By Alexis Cole

Listening to our song
Staying forever strong
Remembering you were wrong
Thought we would last very long
Friends telling me we belong
But I’m telling you so-long 

I miss you more and more
Even though my heart’s still sore
You hurt me more than before
I thought I wouldn’t fall
But then you began to call
I put you before all
And still even stood tall
But I know it’s time for a recall

When things fell apart
You played with my heart
Not knowing I was smart
Thinking of my new start

The next few days were just pain
Alone and crying in the rain
And trying to explain
Thinking we can regain
Our trust and not complain
My composure I maintain
Knowing trouble will remain
Letting it happen again
The tears I now retain 
The Relationship contain

Will never be the same
But who am I to blame
Knowing it was a game
Filling my heart with more shame
Because all boys are the same

Why do they all lie?
Leaving me asking why
With a slight cry
I’ll just say Goodbye 

Spinning Threads

By Brianna Dainiak

I like crafting words
I spin them like a thread
creating little pieces
of the puzzle that you read
You don’t notice half
of every ounce of effort
of every little final touch
that overwhelms the draft
and erases all the rough
patches without sense
with mindless reasoning
that can’t be matched up
through all of the needles,
(every line stitched by hand),
that pricked my own fingers
and drew the blood from them
I work on and on some more
because spinning them is fun
I create a story that captivates
imagination and draws
the bullet in the gun
that releases the safety
and puts the power in the hand
of the one who owns it
for it takes more strength
not to pull the trigger
than it does to shoot it.

Suspect the Unexpected

By Gianna Elcuri

The scent of decay fills my nose
Eerie cawing comes from crows
There in front of me is a house
I shake with fear from head to toes

The cool air whips against my blouse
I shriek, catching sight of a mouse
In the distance, I hear a howl
I turn around, sensing a louse

A low sound comes from him, a growl
I catch a whiff of something foul
There, before my eyes; lycanthrope
He stays still, not even to prowl

I wanted escape, but no hope
I try but there’s no way to cope
I can’t get away, I just mope
Can I win? I think that’s a nope

Wilting...Then Bloom

By Diamante Maldonado

Tears of a blue rose
Dye the innocence of the petals

The color of sorrow
Thorns the visible representation of pain
Wrenching its way from the soul
So that we can heal the pain

The thorns have been severed
The stem, the stand, the body cleared
A soul has been saved

The Blessing: 
On Hearing Very Good News Shared By Two 
or More People

By Judith J. Katz
                   
Snow Day:
are there two
more glorious words
in the English language
I think not

There is a permission
to them:
wake up early
earlier than you would
to go to school
to find out
you don’t have to

There is a muffled quiet
a softness to the sound
of one person scraping
a shovel down the path
next door
the guilty pleasure
of shoveling
                 later

The text messages
airborn, floating like flakes
from you to me to her to him
never is alphabetical order more
important than when we are
waiting to see where the rain
snow line is and what time
we will be on which side of it.

90 minute delay
simply lacks the poetry
the time it would take
to write the poetry
is used up in the disappointment
and despair that you
will have to leave home
without baking muffins,
listening to one more song,
hugging your child, dog, love,
rolling over and hunkering down.

From: Old Blessings for a New World

Fighting in America

By Christopher Edwards

I fight for America
The war scars, deep and ugly
Not just physically but mentally
The dry blood on a silver blade
Pistol shells on the desert ground
Dead, cold bodies hung in closets
Our past, our future, our present
All filled with battles
Battles of  love
Battles with depression
Battles with quitting drugs
Battles of sickness
America is tired
I’m tired
We’re all tired
But we stay fighting
We fight for America.

For the First Time

By Brianna Dainiak

For the first time
I have something to lose

For the first time
words mean nothing

when it’s too late

For the first time
I’m going to miss you

For the first time
I’m cursing your name

In the middle of the night

For the first time
I’m lying on the cold ground

For the first time
I remember it all too well

when I was with you

For the first time
I reached out into nothing

For the first time
I’m staring wide eyed

At the boy who said

For the first time
I have something to lose

Wheels of Four

By Janardhan Sutram

so much depends
upon
a four wheel
vehicle

one place to the
other
welcome the modern
tech.

You Is Stupid

By Rebecca Copperthite

You is stupid
This g e n e r a t i o n:
always misusing
          their
            there
              t   h  e  y’  r  e
you’re and yours
g  r  a  m  m  a  r:
of
you is b   e   a   u   t   i   f   u   l
Delete that text
t
h
r
o
w  your phone
retrieve when you learn how to pay
A T T E N T I O N
in English class.

Goodbye

By Jenny Perez

The L    I    E    S
That you told.
The ones that I F    E    L    L
For

You got this smirk on your face
P    R    E    T    E    N    D    I    N    G
Like everything is fine.
You played your G    A    M    E

Thinking it was alright.
But you’re W    R    O    N    G
Now I’m G    O    N    E

G

O

O

D

B

Y

E

I’ve been better on my own
R    E    P    L    A    C    E    D
You with a love much
S    T    R    O    N    G    E    R

Now you’ve come back for more
You know that you’re too
L    A    T    E
I’ve learn to play your
G    A    M    E
And now I’m
G    O    N    E

Autumn Burns

By Sarah Farquharson

The woodpecker couldn’t peck loud enough,
To silence the worms between the bark
Who creep, silently reaching,
Kissing,
Breathing in the dark-
Unaware of the intruder standing
Behind the tight bond

Before it penetrates their home, they say so long.
Could it be that even the smallest soul feels?
Even they too touch?
Kisses on their tips,

They do not favour,
They do not scream,
They do not know what will end
Their sawdust dream
It is the woodpecker that scouts,
Finding an opening,
Mankind with talons on its feet
Feeding on what it sees.
As it breaks the wood,
Splits the bonds,
Seizes life for its hunger

It stops the pecking.

The noise that troubles our ears,
A penetrating ambush that leads us to tears,
Is silenced by the kill

To the loving worms
Who alluded to passion
In their last breaths,
To the tree that broke under stress,
To the ears that bled from
Sounds that she made,
To the bird of hunger
Whose beak couldn’t wait,
Stopped life and proceeded to live;

It was the intruding figure,
That once devoured its prey, flying to a new height,
The silence that settles in the air
After the loss of an old life,

We feed,
We live,
We love,
We die.
Could the intruders on the peaceful silence
Always result to the end of one’s life?

The lovers intertwined
Now memories that leave rotting flesh
Left behind

As the giants sleep,
Silence continues its reign.
Wood stands with an open hole
Yet the process remains the same. 

I Write America

By Rachel Barclay

I write America for the non-Americans
For the non-Americans who fear deportation
For the non-Americans who marry their American cousins to become an American
For the non-Americans with a dead Americans social security number
For the non-Americans with no social security number
For the non-Americans who struggle through the 4 seasons
For the non-Americans in public school graduating as valedictorian
For the non-Americans with a double major in college
For the non-Americans with a six figure job
For the non-Americans who are proud to say “I’m an immigrant!”
I rewrite America

I Lost...

By Antonia Gates

I lost my heart long ago
The path I’m taking is full of cuts and bruises
Not visible to the world
Only I feel the inner pain
To die a dream forgotten
“Hurt yourself! You’re not worth it!”
The masks sheltered the demons
Or should I say my “friends?”
My thoughts will become reality
Cutting the heart out will be promising
The silver blade is my favorite toy
Stab it in, watch the crimson waterfall
Falling into the blackness is my dream
Until my eyes finally open
And I look at everything in a new light
I’ve found pieces of my lost heart
But now, I lost the tears and broken memories
And can finally learn to love with this mended heart

Lost Poem

By Denecia Coleman

When he was 7 he lost his brother to the streets
When he was 8 his mother lost him to DCF
When he was 9 he lost the urge to try
When he was 10 he lost forgiveness
When he was 11 he lost his best friend
When he was 12 he lost his childhood
When he was 13 he lost his virginity
When he was 14 he lost his gun
When he was 15 he lost his freedom
When he was 16 he lost his life

Tiger Tiger

By Leila Kelly

Teenage girl was left alone
Raised her daughter on her own
Why was she played? Why was she used?
Why was she left alone and confused?

She was young, she was not that bright
She got caught up in that one night
Thought she found love, that was not so
But how was she supposed to know?

Some weeks later, came their surprise
And he left without any goodbyes
In her stomach there lived a new life
Why did he have to be such strife?

Kicked out the house, left on the street
Had no money, had no food to eat
All she had was her baby girl,
Why was she left alone in the world?

Her mother came, took her back in
Had a chance to start over again
She raised her daughter, she did her best
Why was she still so depressed?

Teenage girl was left alone
Raised her daughter on her own
Why was she played? Why was she used?
Why was she left alone and confused?

Why Did He Do It?

By Torre Jackson

There is a child and he ran
Looking for that musical man.
All he wanted was redemption.
Did he do it for fame or affection?

The first time they both met
There was no beef, not a single threat
Or was it all fun and games
Until they wanted money and fame?

The second time it was on.
They both wanted gold; they sung that song.
Rhymes were being spit everywhere.
Will you listen to what the child said in despair?

“All ya’ll people need to get out of here
‘Cause when I come I make you all fear
My powerful rhymes that can control a nation.
Who can resist listening to this ever-lasting temptation?”

Third time they met, anger was inside him.
Child took out the gun and shot that man in his right limb.
A scream; then blood shattered the scene.
Why did the child become a sad teen?

There is a child and he ran
away from that musical man.
All he wanted was redemption.
Why did he do it for fame and affection?