Month: February 2018

Untaken

We are born on an untaken path,
We start walking.
We walk and walk,
Suddenly on the sides,
We see things.

We see faces and other people,
We see art,
We hear music,
We taste food,
We start to grow.

We keep walking the path,
We hit obstacles and road blocks.
We push through.

We learn to solve problems,
We continue.

We meet others walking on paths of their own,
We create friendships,
We discover love and companionship,
We construct families.

We carry a blanket stick of accomplishments,
And memories,
And deeds.

The path begins to fade and become worn,
We lose friends,
We lose loves,
We find the path hard to follow.

We reach the end of the path,
Alone, worn, tired, and broken.

Finally, there’s the cliff,
No bottom in sight.

We plunge into the untaken path.
And nothing.

William B. Travis Early College High School

10

It’s a Passion

Whooshh

Down the field it goes

Dribble, Pass, Shoot, Score!

If it was only that easy

People don’t understand
The Sweat
The Tears
The Blood
The Cramps of your working muscles

All those practices,
So much running you might even passout
“Get on the line” he demands
‘Line’ makes you hate math even more than you already did

You struggle to gain a new skill
To prove to Coach that you should be the starting lineup
Not Her

Why,
Why do the coaches make you compete with your best friends
Push each other off the ball,
Push each others back,
until one of us claims victory

Aren’t friends supposed to have each others back,
Guess when your on the field it doesn’t matter,
That is why you train 8 times a week,
Doesn’t make sense, Huh

One Practice to Another.
With Excitement,
With Exhaustion,
Most Importantly With Passion

You choose your story
But, You leave your leagacy

Gorzycki

7

Blue birds

Birds are all cool
If you think different
You are a fool
Trees and grass
blue birds
aren’t to brass
you should think about
how every bird but a blue bird shouts
no no no this isn’t your typical bird
bird is the word
bunnies eat carrots
and this bird is a parrot.

Gorzycki

7

Piquancy

The words were syrupy
Coating the inside of her mouth
With a tender sweetness
It was indistinguishable
Unlike any other piquancy
she let the sugar coated mess of words
Deceive her
For after it is dried up
All she has left is
The rope of reminisce she clings to
Her hands red
As the sky
When the sun leaves its midst
She has only the cloying aftertaste
Boiling in her mouth
Yet even then she would still choose
To taste
The bittersweet mass again
She still recalled
The way her mouth danced to form the
Simple
Yet powerful words
“I love you”

Gorzycki

7th

A Furry Friendship

The loud, impatient scratching at the door.
A blur of fur from window to window.
Jumping, barking, spinning, smiling and more.
Oh, the excitement when you show.
Kind, gentle eyes that beg for attention,
Floppy ears listening to every word.
A wet nose, sniffing what you didn’t mention,
They speak in a way that isn’t heard.
Happily wagging their furry tails,
Slightly tilting their head as you speak,
Internally laughing at your fails,
Walking in, for it is you that they seek.
An everlasting bond that never ends,
Is a friendship formed with mans best friend.

Anderson High School

9th

Colorblind

I wish to distinguish color from color,
Feeling mood from
Beautiful visuals that induce emotion.

I cannot experience the calm, serene hue of blue
No feeling of peace and tranquility.
Non-existent to me are cloudless skies and gloomy rain
That leave me with sorrow as I will never see this color.

Confusion is overwhelming as I mentally mix different shades of brilliant red,
An energy full of power, love, and danger which I fail to perceive.
Gone are roses and blood
I’m engulfed in rage for I will never see this warmth.

I jump at the slightest possibility of happiness,
Deceived by the false spirit of optimism,
Silenced by the absence of the sun and bananas
I’m blinded by the enlightenment I want to contact desperately.

I wish to distinguish color from color,
Feeling mood from
Beautiful visuals that induce emotion.

Gorzycki Middle School

7

A Sunday Night in my Bed

A brief ease —
found in vivid blue
with arms of
deceiving light.

hands strike
into a dark haze

left with
a lump of coal
in my throat.

I gnaw at the skin
near my nails

Where does my head go
when I rot?

Did Andrew Tart notice how
I pronounced “ethereal” wrong?

A cruel virus —
glued into the
depths of my DNA.

James Bowie High school

12th

Condemned

(inspired by poet Terrance Hayes)

Hey, I am learning what it means to ride condemned.
Tossed amongst the eager waves dodging,

sharks teeth and glaring glass eyes.
A stain on your neighbor’s apron.

Under heavy covers waiting, for the sun to rise and stomp
dreams out to the curb with Monday’s trash.

Somewhere a child sits criss-cross, Awaiting answers only
Your instruction could provide.

But you ignore, and ignorance prevails,
The cavities triumphing, shining in silver.

Plato’s cave is home. With sunflowers in the yard
And bars over the windows.

The books punctuating the walls are all diaries
Locked, like the empty seats reserved for ghosts.

Hey, I am still learning what I’ve known my entire life.
That you take steps on the moon and I walk on broken glass.

James Bowie High school

11th grade