Month: December 2016

As smooth as silk
Juicy from inside
You my mango,
Are as bright
As the sun

Your beauty formed
When you were Happy
When you were Sad
you were
as stubborn as a Tooth
You my Mango,
You grew
Like a small Dew
And that’s how
You became you!

 

And they watched as he bled
Dripping into a big plaster bowl
They waited for signs of blackness
Thickness, Corruption, death in a living man
They knew it would drip from beneath his turban
And into his eyes

They knew the name of Allah would be carved deeply into him
The color of dead men
And they knew that when it had gone he would wake
A clean man

They discovered a man beneath a pool of blood
Bone and skin and lung like any other
A still man with blue lips and red blood
But not a drop of black within him

They looked in sadness at the slack face of this man
Allah’s hold had been too tight on this one
They knew this now
A shame he had died filled with the sticky darkness
Of a people capable of murder

Eyes clouded with answers
They still could not
See.

 

Tinted Blue

I press the pads of my fingers against the rough bricks

And a breeze kisses my cheeks

And lies against my lips

My eyes close I hadn’t worn these shoes in years

They were scuffed and the heels were worn down

From bouncing on the floor

I’d always been going somewhere then

My heels were always bouncing

There’s a yellow house below me

It has a tin roof and big windows

I wonder if they’ll see me

Through those big windows

I remember the day my mother got a call from school

I’d been gone And she hadn’t known

I wonder how many calls she’d get before

They stopped calling

Before she stopped listening

A place we live,
A place we relax,
A place we sleep,
A place we have fun,
A happy place,
A safe place,
A warm place,
Like a warm fire,
A building that says,
Come,
You belong here.

 

Nyc
I stroll through the streets of Nyc,
like walking down an aisle of a shopping store
admiring the old and new buildings,
like different colored cans on a shelf.

As I ride down the road,
looking on at the restless sky,
I wonder when this dream will end.
Until.
I realize.
I am already at home.
In bed.
Dreaming.

As I walked out on stage
I felt my body free from its cage.

The music surrounded me as I danced
And I knew this might be my only chance.

My toes pointed with every move
As I was determined to prove
That dance is a sport
Even though it’s not on a court.

Mom
Blue eyes, red hair
I could never compare

She is as sweet
As a chocolate treat

She is as happy
As the bird is flappy

She is as cute
As a Cabi boot

Although she can be mean,
She is so super keen

I love,
My mom the white morning dove

---

Gorzycki

7th

SNICKERS

Snickers
Is no ordinary horse.
His deep brown, almond eyes
Seem to stare into the very depths of my soul.

Snickers
He knows what i am thinking
When I am happy, sad, lonely,
Or mad

Snickers
Who is better than any therapist
Who gives the best hugs.
Who seems to understand
Exactly what i am saying
Even when i know he does not

Snickers
“He’s just a horse” they say
I say
No.
He is a friend.

Baseball
The game, a vine that grows inside of you
Quickly grabbing pulling you into the fun
Because that little vine becomes something big
A plant
A big plant
The game soon becomes what you love
And then you want to be one of them
A giant star on the big stage
Every kids dream
Every single one
A dream as big as a home run
Dreams that go BOOM
But it just started from a little vine like you

What is Time?
A figure?
Just a number?
Or is it something else?
We always want more or less of it
Is it a space filler like the grout between your tiles?
Or is it something else?
How is time measured?
By the beginning of the universe or how fast something moves?
In seconds or minutes?
Time is an idea wrapped in a thought
A thought to explain how things became what they are now