by Lauren Tyler
Let me find
Somewhere I can hide
Someplace away from prying eyes
Where all hasn’t lost or died
Somewhere I have no tears to cry
With pretty, pearly skies
And fields of wildflowers in a countryside
How can I say, “It’s nothing, nothing,”?
Let me go
Into the depths of the ocean
A place without riptides or commotion
Somewhere sorrow loses its devotion
Where the heart can surely open
Someplace sunlight isn’t stolen
Without cloudy eyes and irises broken
How can I explain, “It’s everything, everything,”?
by Lauren Tyler
I took my Stone in my Hand -
And went against the Lord -
‘Twas twice as vile as Cain - but -
But I - was not half as cold
I aimed by Envy - but Myself
Was all the one that died -
Was it Lucifer - was too loud -
Or was myself - too quiet?
by Julia Baker
My roommate does not sleep.
She would rather play tag
In an endless field of wonder
and race me to catch a finish line
that does not exist.
No one can keep up with my roommate.
She’s elusive and sly,
she will keep you awake and not tell you why.
She is a thief.
She doesn’t steal money,
for she has no use for nickels and dimes.
She's only interested in taking my time.
So I sit with my roommate,
While she chases my heart
keeps me wide awake in the dark.
While she tells me everything to do
but doesn’t tell me how to start.
I run after her
with a cry in my voice and murder in my eyes,
but you can’t kill a roommate that lives in your mind
So we co-exist
Anxiety and I.
by Naya Green
Shamble through
While the gate’s still open!
The ivy leaves tingle and
There sits the black raven.
The fairies prance in tinsel skirts
While the silver clouds dump chandelier shards.
You, silly you.
There is no gloom
Through the hardy old gate
That will not wait
For your timeless inactivity
Your lousy depravity.
Go on, now pet the rabbits ears.
Don’t spend your time on tears.
You are not short of years.
You have all the delight days you need
So long as heavens candle shines
And you follow those ivy vines!!!!!!!!!
by Clara Monahan
I think of grannies in their floral moomoos
Jumping up and down in a rave
Hair rollers rattling alongside flailing arm noodles
I think of how their walkers
Would fit in the mob of sweaty legs
I stare at the back of the head in front of me
Imagining my hand rubbing his scalp
If he’d turn around
And make an uncomfortable frown
I might reach my hand out
Wondering if I have the guts
I draw on my paper and get real weird
As I give my poor creation:
18 chins and miscellaneous hairs
All over his misshapen 2D head
Maybe it’s a self portrait
Of my heart
My guts
I think about drama in my church
I am certainly not a part of
How the pastor’s kids get along
Or if they bite each other
I wonder what Mrs. Galindez would do if I bit her
I would have to go home
And maybe not come back
…
This is why I’m afraid of telepaths.
