Month: January 2020

Peace feels like the soft hands
of my mother and a
warm slice of pumpkin pie on a
cold Thanksgiving Day
Peace looks like my loving family
Hugging me tight for a good night’s sleep
Peace tastes like fresh, warm cookies
Peace sounds like a warm fire
crackling fire
on a cold Christmas morning
Peace smells like a freshly baked slice of
cake my mother made for me on my birthday
Peace is relaxing silence with someone to love
This is Peace

The sun is bright, shining yellow against the deep blue sky. It sits. It hovers above air and land and sea,
ever present.
And so it shines.
Most days, the boy feels the rays penetrate his skin like the seeping of warm ocean waters –
wish-wash, wish-wash.
He feels the sun touch and seep, yet he is filled with no warmth.
And so he stands,
cold.
This coldness makes him wonder:
Am I okay? Is this normal?
And so he stands, wondering – pondering.
As time passes by, the rays increase in intensity, shaking him from head to toe. He looks at his arms – so brightly illuminated – and he watches as his dark hairs slowly grow tall.
It is as if he is a porcupine, preparing for attack. But there is no danger –
the sun shines brightly, a yellow yolk against the sapphire sky.
But he wouldn’t shiver, was there no danger.
He is cold. Not scared.
But maybe I should be, he thinks.
He is not.
The sun shines brightly.
On this day, the boy stands outside, and he realizes:
the sun does not move.
He stands there many an hour, imitating the stationary sun.
He wonders again. The sun sits high, right above his head.
Maybe that is the danger.
It wants to fall on my head, and burn me, he thinks.
But maybe this is no danger, because after all,
he is cold.
So now he sits, awaiting the actions of the sun.
The bright saffron star shines. Nothing happens.
The boy remains seated, still cold,
still waiting.
But waiting is tedious –
tiresome –
and so his eyes begin to droop.
The rays still shine, peeking through his half-shut lids.
Rebecca David
2nd period
9/25/2019
His head droops now –
he is asleep.
And so the boy sleeps, and the sun
does not.
He sleeps many an hour, body shivering,
sun burning.
The boy awakes. He looks around, at his body –
there are no burns. Only hairs, standing tall like summer grass. No rays, no warmth, no sun.
And so he shivers.
And shiver he will,
until one day the sun decides to move –
to fall –
again.

mijn broer deed een dunne jas aan gisteren.
blijkbaar mocht het niet.
toch deed hij het.
hij liep met zijn vrienden door het park.
ik hoorde zijn voetstappen, hun blije lachen gemengd met het getjilp van vogels.
het was geen winter meer.

vandaag doet hij weer een dunne jas aan.
maar vandaag loopt hij niet, en vandaag roept hij niet.
vandaag staat hij stil.
vandaag hoor ik geen zomer meer.
vandaag voel ik de winter –
hij voelt het ook.
voel jij het niet?

meet me at the station
stay with me downtown,
hear the words i speak
watch me hear yours.

feel the lights flicker
and appear –
slowly
as the sun disappears.

watch my fingers twist and turn
fidgeting
reaching for yours
lacing, listening.

we are the only ones.

the station –
people come and go,
but we don’t.
it is us, and us only.

so meet me at the station,
stay with me till dark –
till everything’s alright again
till we’re ready to say good night.

i play hide and seek, but without the seeking.
i hide up. i hide down,
far, low, wherever i feel i need to go.
and so i hide, with no requests. and so i hide.
no one passes, no one peeks.
i hide, and no one seeks.
and so i hide, no cold eyes watching –
i hide in peace.
i run and laugh and sing and dance,
but still i hide.
ever hidden, ever free,
i always hide but never seek.

wasting your days in vain again.
you’re vain and you know it to be true
but it’s only in the depths of the night
(while you waste your days)
that you truly do realize just how vain your vain is.
and so you sit
(wasting your days in vain –
again)
and think about the pain.
the one no one sees –
because you’re vain!
and this vanity, it’s insanity –
rushing, running, knocking up your brain so all you can really do is
(waste your days in vain).
and this gives you pain
so somehow you find that vein
(the one)
and now there you are:
vain
in pain
wasting your days in vain again.

Way up in the tree,
There is so much to see.
Millions of leaves fluttering, so free…
In the midst of it all, there’s Me.