Skull

By Katelyn Weingart

Silence,


Nothing comes from the decayed mouth


Of this bony bodiless creature


Stripped of dignity.

 



Empty holes for eyes seem to stare eternally upwards


As if regretting a past event,


And somehow knowing it’s too late


To redo.


Uncontrollably voiceless,


It rests as a reminder


To all


Of our inexorable destiny.

 



Yellow chipped teeth forever lie


In a forced smile,

 



His true


Emotion

Trapped inside.

The Poem About the Object in the Bag

By Paul Roever

Bleached yellowed teeth,
Looking strangely separated from the rest.
An arrowhead-shaped gap, where the nose should be.
And finally, two apricot-sized holes,
That once were a means of drinking in the world’s sights and colors.
All of these things comprise the skull in front of me.

It is a strange thought,
That this grotesque, gleaming piece of bone,
Was once a regular person like me.
Perhaps that is because a skull is oft associated with horrors,
And death.

There is something about the toothy grin,
And the detached way it stares into nowhere
That makes it inhuman,
And yet,
We know it was human.

The Gentle Roar of the Heater

By Paul Roever

Relaxing on the heater,
My blanket in great folds
All around me.
I hear the gentle roar of the heater,
And I smile, content.
My dog, curled up next to me,
Like a golden carpet, is breathing steadily.
With a gentle shift of my legs,
A waft of air escapes from the blanket,
And my dog’s ears flick.
Minutes later, my eyes are drawn
Back to the pages I had been reading, and
I reenter the world so different from mine.

Dive Into Peace

By Alex Menell

Dive.
A rush of water
Surrounds me,
Like a blanket.

Kick.
I swim deeper.
Down.
I feel at peace as my mind
Wanders in silence.

I wait.
A sound passes,
Water rushes at me.

A shadow,
A shimmer,
A scale.

Little fins.
“A fish, that’s all.”

Yet I return to the surface,
And rejoice as I take a breath.

And return…

He Lies Here

By Jacob Olian

I rest in my damp residence
Beneath the treads of others.
My flesh is gone
And the appearance
Of my youth
Decaying.

I stare at the soggy brown
Around me.
And I cannot move
For my muscles are gone.
And so is my sprit
And dignity.

In honor
I lie.
I lie to myself
For I
Am dead.

The Horizon

By Jordan Stone

One line
Spiraling towards infinity
The Horizon
Slices the sky and water.
Equal Parts
Only,
Truly opposite
Yin-Yang.
My Cries for help
Blow back into my face.
Lightning shoots the light out of the sea.
I wait,

Nothing

Fear huddles so close
I can only wish
My mind teases me
About appears,
How do I know.
I swim for a while
The metal whispers in my ear

You’re Safe.

Want

By Hunter Brown

Am I unnoticed?
It didn’t seem that way
Do you just not say a thing?

I know
But you don’t know
That I know

Is the smile a taunt
Or is it play?
I love that smile, oh the beauty of it.
That smile has been good to me.

It’s not like you to lie
But I see it in your eyes
You just don’t tell the whole truth.
The messages had me contemplating
It was good news

The lie, the one that ripped my heart
And tossed it aside
That one, oh yes, that one,
That had me crippled for days.

Luckily, that’s just words
Throw around some words
See if I care.

I figured you out.
Your icy eyes hold honesty
But what happens now?
Are you just waiting?


For me?

The Future

By Jack Heneghan

What will be the future?
What will be our fate?
I wonder what will go on
in the time beyond this age.

Could we become the stuff of science fiction?
Androids bowing to Martian masters.

Or we could return to the golden age
Where we all live happy and free

Maybe we’ll revert to tribal warfare
Fighting for a scarp of food

Everyday I wonder, what it is we will be.

Hungry for What?

By Hidehiro Anto

The boy on the street
Was yearning for something;
He felt so cold that I knew it wasn’t love.

It wasn’t food;
He had plenty of that.

When I stared into his eyes,
I knew what it was.
He wanted blood.

Absence

By Darren Mei

As I look at the night sky,
I wonder,
What is darkness?

Could it be,
The absence
of light?

For the missing of something,
is always something else.
Are we the absence of something?
Of Sadness? Happiness?
Something must be gone for
us to exist.

Just like the
Darkness

It ebbs and
flows, evading
rays of blinding
light,
seeking out protection
from the sun,
like a scoundrel

And us humans,
We treasure the light,
while the darkness does
all the work.

For what is light
except the absence
of darkness?

Strolling the Beach

By Peter Bouret

Sun Rays reflect off the ocean surface,
Encasing you in a white room of blindness.
Engulfed in a room of whiteness you stumble around looking for an exit.
A coconut aroma dances around your nose.
Sand suffocates your body,
Drifting awkwardly down the beach as sand shuffles around your bathing suit.
The breeze whispers in you ear,
As the trees dance to its song.
The water steals your tracks that you left behind.
Slowly the sea lures you in.
Blue on the surface,
Yet once you submerge,
You experience a vibrant world of color and life.
You embrace its beauty,
You embrace its smell,
Knowing that this memory is cemented in you.
Now this new world is yours.

Cheaters Never Win

By Alex Bambos

He was looking out the window
In a nice, quiet are that he had saved to himself
He looked out on the valley of buildings
As he fell back into his seat
His vision now on blue

He did not know what happened next
His vision went back to the valley
Then back to blue

But the blue was getting further and further away from him
As a watery explosion rocked the life out of him
The people behind him yelled
Endangering themselves
But not knowing it

Desperately he tried to restore calm,
As he sank into Davy Jones’s Locker.
In what was to be his grave.

“But you always cheat death,” his friend had once said.

“Always.”

But cheaters never win,
Even in times where it matters most.
And as the water hit him, he was able to relax,
For he was a cheater no more.

Like An Eagle

By Alec Addicott

Like an Eagle flying high

Wings stretched, soaring
Rock peaks jutting into the air
Like the teeth of an ancient jawbone
The sun blazing, burning, despairing
As an Eagle floats higher than even it

Snake slithers along the rusted surface
An Eagle swoops and catches it
In its talons
The color of the desert winds

Heat waves melt the horizon
A rough, unkind cactus penetrates the nothingness
A birdsong shatters the still
As the sun sails above the ground

A shriveled, leathered man
stands on a dune
His eyes are ablaze
See the determination in his piercing gaze?

As he fingers his own law
in a beat - up holster at his side
Waiting for something
Who knows?

Only a gliding Eagle
With its call resounding between
the sandstones as it gloats
over its doomed victim

A drop of crimson, clotting, wet blood
falls to the tan, shifting, dry ground from
the Eagle's dying prey
A flower springs forth from it, graceful

Like an Eagle

That Song

By Sienna Stritter

The sound of our voices is united as one.
The sweet melody fills the room,
Calming even the coldest souls among us.
It creates such a special feeling,
Deep inside.
The power of song brings us together.

The harmony sweeps out the doors,
Filling the crisp air around,
Skipping nervously across our gorgeous lake,
Down the winding road,
Warming, cheering
Every spirit it passes.

But near the boarders of town,
The sound starts to disperse.
Less and less,
Quieter and quieter,
No longer filling the air with joy.
The cold, hard hearts are found here,
And they fill the rest of the world.

That one spot,
A weak flicker, only an attempt
At healing this disturbed world.
We must aspire to sing that song,
Louder and louder,
Stronger and stronger,
Never ceasing,
Till every body is filled, strengthened,
By the great cheer of
That song.

We must try to fix this corrupted world
We live in
With the sweet melody of

That song.

A Book, A Being

By Jacob Olian

The light gleamed across it.
It’s open arms
Inviting all to come near.
I could not decide
But in the end I took him up.
I made my way across the silent room
The darkness touching all
Except my bright host.
My stride reluctant
Because I knew he could close his great jaws
And bite.
Reaching his side of the room
I stood over him
Because he sat on a low table
Made just for him.
I stared at him
And he gazed back
Though he had no eyes.
I inquired further
And he told me many
Many things.
And yet he had no lips.
Knowledgeable
About so many things
While he had no mind.
And he inspired me
To write
Though he had no soul.

Heart

By Peter Bouret

Heart,
Motivation, Perseverance, Desire.
A Necessity?
Baseball, basketball, football,
Better, faster, stronger.
All pointless.
Athletic, charismatic,
pathetic,
What Matters?
Who cares?
So what?
To succeed, to win.
To lose, to be rejected.
What will you need in the clutch?
Me or we?
Heart,
soul,
confidence.
Without these you are nobody
To become legendary,
Or just ordinary.
Dare to go where no man’s gone.
Dare to exceed the boundaries we have set.
Leap.
If you fall you will be caught.
Without wanting,
there would be no achieving.
Without believing,
there would be no succeeding.
Big or small,
without heart
You are nothing

Time

By Jordan Stone

Time lurks
Behind a sightless window,
Waiting to
Pounce.

Time stays
Until the pressure’s off,
Then slowly crawls.
Crawls up to
A rollercoaster rate
Circling up and down
Following, it creeps
At an ungainly pace
When we are are in times
Of sorrow


Time is slow.
Time is fast.
We will never know
What’s behind
The window.
Until we discover it
Ourselves.

Locks

By Justin Wang

I can’t communicate,
But I watch

I listen patiently,
But I can’t move

I can’t talk

I just go along with what they all do
I think they’re locked into their body too

People just hide it,
They know they want to be free,
Do things they want,
But deep inside someone is screaming,
“Let me out!”

Tiny Army

By Amelia Blackburn

The vast color seems to last into infinity,
A billion little soldiers swaying over hills and defending their massive home.
Their loved ones crushed by the rhythmic thumping of tennis shoes.

The grass stands tall,
Barely trembling as the wind exhausts itself, wrapping around the army.
All beings ignore them, but they don’t let anything crush their pride.

The grass winds in every direction,
Crawling through sidewalk cracks,
Striving, growing to feel the suns warmth.

The grass works hard,
Falling under the towels and soccer balls,
Doing it’s job to the best of it’s ability,
As it has nothing left to live for.

The Man Who Left

By Hidehiro Anto

Once I saw a man
Who left his home,
Kissed his wife,
And left the house.

And deep down,
I don’t know how,
But then I knew,
And he knew,
And she knew,
That he was not coming back.

Friday Afternoon

By Mikey Diekroeger

Filled up with tension is the bell,
Kids in a classroom, bees in a cage
Both waiting to be released,
After being trapped for ages.
Clock ticking, hinges of cage squeaking.
Kids sitting on the edge of seats, bees buzzing louder.
Teacher stops teaching, lock being opened.

All of a sudden… the bell rings,
Kids have a free weekend, the bees are free to sting.

Maybe, just maybe would the kids get the raw end of the deal.
Maybe, would the kids not be spending such a free weekend…
If they get stung by the bees.

Darkness

By Justin Wang

Most people say they aren’t frightened, but they are,
It lurks behind corners
The flick of a switch and you can obtain it
And disintegrate it just as fast.

It takes away the path,
And I search blindly making my way through doors and obstacles

Just trying to find someway to get rid of it.

It follows me around!
I turn around and its there!
I start to run

I finger for the switch
I flip it and it has gone.

Is The Wind So Innocent?

By Alex Menell

Around the leaves of the palm trees,
The wind swirls.
Blowing as if with an intention,
A purpose.

It makes the ocean attack the sands
That it once bowed down to.
Making everything
Change its course.

The birds land on the gravelly shore,
Instead of swooping low by the water
For a delightful snack.

The children,
Who normally rejoice
In the clear salt waters around the gulf,
Run inside to hide
From the usually innocent force,
From the sky.

As the sun reigns again,
The fearful winds retreat
With a final blow,
A blow so fierce to knock
A person off their feet.

The sun reaches up,
And pulls itself to the top
Of the bright blue sky,
To find that it’s too late.

Everyone is gone.

Speed of Time

By Paul Wat

I can see the hour hand,
But not the path of the pen

The beating of the seconds’ march is audible
The claws at the slate non existent

The stench of the on going workers,
Pounding away in vicious circles

Tasting the foul breath
As the minutes pass

I can feel hours go by
Pressure building in my mind

Staring, time slows to a halt
A train stopping before a station
I inspect the minutes board he engine,
One that treks on forever towards infinity

The pen slips from my hand
As I rest my head in my elbow
Still watching as time slowly passes

As I slouch,
Waiting for time to pass
I wonder,
When will vacation come?

Boston

By Hunter Brown

Take me back
To the red-washed walls
That send
Gray shivers of happiness
Up sad rosy cheeks

And the ocean mist
Springs salt in your eyes,
And makes you shed tears of joy
A bittersweet green takes my tears
And my breath away

I don’t know why I leave,
When I dream of just going back
But that’s no problem
I’ll just bring the place here

All the joy that would flow my veins
If only I could do that

Retainer

By Katelyn Weingart

However hard I try,
I can’t theem to get
Wordth
Out of my mouth.

I lithen in horror
Ath
Thubthtitute
Thay
And
Thynagogue

Are all morphed
Into
A mumbly thwarm
Of noith,
Like scribbleth on a page.

Giggleth pound hard
Againtht my earth
While I brush
Them off with
A painful thmile
And
A laugh in return.

Whoever thought
All thith
Mithery
Could be cauthed
By an
Orthodontitht?

I Wonder

By Alex Bambos

As I sit by the window,
Calling back the times,
Where I fought for my life,
I wonder…

I wonder how I managed to survive,
Among the sick, the wounded, the dead.
How I avoided joining them,
How I always lived.

I wonder how I managed to do what was asked of me.
Sleeping in dirty hovels at night,
Moving through the mounds of dead bodies,
Remembering that my body,
Might as well be mine.

I wonder how I got used to it all,
Crawling through shadows, like a rat,
Faking death,
Cheating death.

Looking back on those times,
I ask myself how I did it all.
Some say courage, others say strength.
Still, to this very day,
I wonder…

The Road

By Sienna Stritter

The path set out before you
Seems built in stone
By expectations from others before you.

Yet it is crucial you understand
The trail made by others
Is for them to follow,
Not for you.

The path laid out in front of you
Is for you
To alter, change, edit, and revise,
Step by step, stone by stone,
Slowly, carefully,
Until the path you build for yourself
Is a road you want to follow.

So prove it to yourself.
Don't follow their way
Make your own.
Excel, thrive, be the best
In your own track.
Create the perfect road
That you will enjoy walking.

Decisions

By Niles Christensen

I found myself in a room,
The glow of a sun pouring through the windows.
A meal,
A warm bed and
A friend.

One day,
I spied a switch on a wall.
I ignored it at first,
But a voice named curiosity told me
To throw it.

I gave in to temptation
And flipped the switch.
A moment’s delay, then

The room transformed,
A fire burned my feet.
The scent of smoke filled my nose
And my ears were pierced by the screaming of a thousand souls.

The switch was gone.

Un-Prepared Test

By Mikey Diekroeger

I walked into the classroom like a nervous bug,
Being slapped at by flies in a trapped room with no windows.
I sat down, like gum sticking to the chair
Forty-five minutes till the end of class.

The teacher passed out my test, like a razor sharp blade being thrown at my neck,
Gushing scar as it sliced my neck.

My mind was bobbling
But the entire world was still,
as I knew not the slightest bit,
so I started with my name…

DING DING DING!
Fire bell rings,

Courageous rope saving a little boy from drowning,
The test was done, over, finished.
The bug in my head was free,
Nervousness gone forever

What is Love

By Jamie Redman

As a young girl,
I heard it
and my eyes widened.

The following day,
in the shower
I’d hum the magical tune.
I could hear
the great acoustics
surrounding me.

The next thing you know,
an intriguing song plays on the radio,
and I can’t help but sing along.
I sense a feeling of freedom
in my own far-off world.

I never thought
it’d come to be such a big part of
my future.

As I continued,
the sweet harmonies and melodies,
strong tempos and dynamics,
the lovely notes
weren’t an addiction anymore.

It was love.

The kind of love
a child has for their
very first teddy bear.
And though I wasn’t the best singer
I still pursued my love.

The impact
has been a tornado,
sucking me in but I
haven’t been afraid.
It has carried me,
through the
extensive and intense years

Music is mine.
What is love?

Almost at the Top

By Jack Heneghan

Almost at the Top
Step by Step,
Inch by Inch,
He climbs the rock,
pulling himself up.

Straining the ropes like he strains to reach this goal,
The summit.
So close that he could hear
Crickets move on the rocky plateau of the top.

Just as a golfer has an easy put for the green jacket,
It takes one final pull to reach the pinnacle.
He takes one glance at the waterfall nearby

Suddenly gravity is pulling him alongside it
Cascading downward like a bear market
His last sight is the top of the redwoods
Before he crash lands like a meteor on the forest floor.

Writer's Block

By Darren Mei

Thoughts evade me
swirling around like
a boa constrictor,
circling its prey

Ideas are within reach,
but saunter away when I reach out
to grasp them

A large wall looms in the distance,
and as I strain my eyes I read,

W,R,I,T,E,R,S,
B,L,O,C,K.

No! I think.
I work my mind,
but the whirlstorm of ideas
stays penned behind the wall,
mocking me

Finally I surrender,
waving a white flag in my imaginary world,
while closing down an empty
Microsoft Word.

I guess I will just have to leave this for,
another day.

Toy Dancer

By Amelia Blackburn

My eyes open just as the music stops,
the tune of it, lingering in my head, wiped away by thunderous applause.
People around me push their way out on stage,
and I reluctantly follow.

As I take a breath,
I see a girl nonchalantly walk on stage,
a look of boredom on her face.
It disappears, covered by a grin.
Her smile sits, painted on, throughout the dance.
Her white teeth shine, but she can’t put the same sparkle in her eyes.

I watch that girl all night, moving flawlessly,
like a toy dancer.

The music starts for the last time, a single spotlight flooding her face with warmth.
Even the glare can’t put any life in her eyes.

In mid-dance, she stops,
and I see the gears stop turning.
She runs off stage and out the door.

All toy dancers eventually break

Loss

By Lillian Siegel

Emptiness.
That’s what I feel without you.
Loneliness.
That’s what I feel when you’re not with me.
Sadness.
That’s the feeling I have to face
When I know that you’re gone forever.

I’d rather feel anger
And blame you for abandoning me.
But deep down
I know that you didn’t choose to leave this earth.

You were such a life-lover.
You soaked in all that you could
And enjoyed every minute you had.
I never got anywhere near
The amount of time with you
That I wanted.

If I could change one thing
I’d bring you back.

I dream that you’re happy now
Enjoying the afterlife or whatever you do after you pass.
I hope you’re not suffering
As you were going through chemotherapy.

I just wanted to let you know
That I love you.
I still love you
And always will.
I cherish every moment we spent together
And even though you’re gone now
I’ll make my life continue.
I will.
For you.

Inside vs. Out

By Sam Crowder

Flying but falling,
Falling but flying.
What’s the difference?
Winning but losing,
Losing but winning.
I can’t see it.
Passing but failing,
Failing but passing.
Who really cares?
All that matters is
If you’re a winner,

Inside

Memories

By Niles Christensen

A sound
A sight
A feeling
An odor

Bring back the sensations of the past

A path once walked, now abandoned
A bad decision
Friends now forgotten
Places now missed
An astonishing spectacle
Events we long to relive
A special time
A game of tag and childish delights

All bring with them a smile and

A tear

The First of the Last

By Jamie Redman

Click, Click, Click
I strap in my bindings
and waddle, as if I am an awkward penguin,
with one foot
into the board.

I’m ready

to get in the
first of my last runs
for the season.

I’m at the front of the line,

and approaching the
sun-bright sign that reads
“WAIT HERE”
The chair comes up from behind
to climb me up the mountain.
It scoops me up,
and I quickly scramble to a
“safe” position.
There is still worry
that I could fall off
or if my binding mysteriously
came undone
thus injuring some innocent person below.
A calming sigh
soothes my every doubt,
as the cold, brisk air,
patters against my cheeks
sending a rapid shiver
through all my body.

I observe my surroundings.

There are
children much younger than I
on skis.
With no poles,
no fear.
They speed down the slope,
leaving instructors or parents
to catch up.
I chuckle under my heavy,
altitude-impacted breath.


I see fellow beginner boarders
falling, falling, falling
hoping I won’t get hurt
when I do the same.
As dazed as I am,
I forget that the chair
is nearing the end of the lift.

I successfully slide off,

down the small, carved out hill
that has been worn down by
many skis and snowboards.
I am proud of myself for not toppling off.
I sit myself down
in a section of slushy snow
that will soon begin to seep into my pants.
I then securely fasten my
left foot into the snowboard.
After taking my usual
deep breath before a run,
I strongly push up on my delicate wrists,
and I try to use momentum
to get me standing.
I start inching down to where
I can begin to turn.

I’m FREE…

At the Top

By Claire Chen

The notches on the giant metal beast
One by one snapped into place,
Bringing me higher and higher.

Up above the hustle and the bustle
Of the fair grounds
Dotted with people.

Up above the red and white
Striped peppermint tents.

Higher and higher
Until the snaking cars reached the angled peak.

Now,
We slowed to a stop.
I looked down at the colorful landscape
Breathing in the sweet smell of freeness
That wouldn’t last too long.

I wrapped my fingers around the rigid steel bars,
Waiting for that dreaded lurch forward.

Suddenly,

Down,
Towards the silver asphalt,
And the hundreds of tourists.

Down,
Away from the adrenaline from being,

On the top of the world.

Yellowstone

By Alec Addicott

A steaming splash jets forth from the earth
And steam wisps through the frigid winter air
Bison nuzzle their young, protecting them
From the bitter cold

Snowflakes, no two alike, spiral to the ground
Pine trees, as straight as hairs on a terrified man’s neck,
Puncture the cavernous sky
A kingfisher’s call echoes through the dusk

A waterfall breaks the silence
Powerful armies of water crash into a lake, then a river
All the while, under the ground,
Hell burns in an unearthly glow

Before a Test

By Paul Wat

I sit at my desk,
Cluttered with papers,
Like flocks of birds rushing across the sky.

Blank Stares, frantic movement
Panic, Fear, Anxiety.

Dark, clumsy, scribbles
Dancing across the page
Mocking me as I interpret my penmanship

Worry, Regret, Misunderstanding,
The only expressions I hear

The quiet of the night
Silent like the moment before death

Flashing Lights
The Blinking computer Screen
Endless distractions
Hurdles in my path
Impossible to bypass

I struggle to concentrate
My focus breaking

I hear the earthshaking boom
12 times the giant stomped.
I pry open my eyes

All I hear is the sound of deafening terror,
The doom and misery of
Tomorrow’s Judging Day

Let It Burn

By Sam Crowder

A thought is all it takes
To move mountains,
Then climb to the top.
An idea can take you places
You would have never
Been able to go.
But when you smother it in a corner,
With not a speck of room to grow,
Keep your expectations low.
So when the lighter of your brain sparks,
And starts a fire,

Let It Burn

Matzo Ball Soup

By Lillian Siegel

The smell of warm chicken broth
And the perfect
Airy
Fluffy
Matzo balls
Fills the air.

My eyes devoured
Their appealing look.
The scent lingered in the air
Until I could no longer bear it.
I dipped my tongue into the burning soup.

The texture of the matzo ball
So cloud-like
And soft.

The taste
So light
Yet tangy
And addictive.

I listened to the rest of the soup
Sizzling,
Boiling.
Becoming more and more excited
For the upcoming sedar.

“Hush, my delicious matzo ball soup,
Your time has almost arrived.”

Waiting for the World

By Claire Chen

I saw a girl,
Lonely,
Standing alone on top of a single hill,
Just watching.

Watching,
The leaves of the old tree
Silently blow off into the thin air.

Watching,
The clouds in the bright blue sky
Calmly float by.

Watching,
The small amount of water left in a dried up stream
Lazily trickle down.

But could she be waiting?

Just waiting,
For that old tree
To just become young and full of life again?

For those clouds in the sky
To magically disappear
And let rejuvenating sunlight into the world?

For more water
To suddenly come gushing into the stream
And wash away any sorrows?

Could she?