Category: 11th

Love is Good
Love is Great
Love Is Something we Appricate
love is Fighting
Love is jelousy
Love Is pain
Love is insane
Love Is Mad
Love is glad
Love is sometimes sad
Dont ever abuse
Dont ever acuse
Love is something people loose

The phoenix who protects the world
With its luxurious golden flames
Keeps the cycle of life and death
Neverending
No life can exist without death
And no death may exist without life
Thus at the end of each cycle
The phoenix sets the world ablaze
With its destructive
Yet beautiful
Golden flames
The fire burns everything in its path
And soon no life remains
The cycle of life has ended
Giving way for the cycle of death
But death does not mean it is the end
For death is just rebirth
And soon, like a phoenix
Life may start anew

Eating creamy cubes of milk chocolate

I cannot desist,
The whole bar will be no longer,
But there are more—storage rooms are full
Craving for sugar—even as a crystal dune laying on a spoon—

Can be killed with dry salt,

But why cancel the calling sweetness of grand pyramids—

The multi layered cakes?
Sadly, to much of my dissatisfaction,
The effects of such consumption
Are powerful like clenched fists dirty with flour
And severe like sharp kitchen knives
I became heavy,

Unlike the paper-thin, model-slim screen
Which laughs mockingly,

As it’s the giver of all the tempting, colorful unoriginality

And the killer of our novelty
I bite vigorously on the spoon,
Its steel is hard;
I broke a tooth.

The circle of grass,

The men in suits and hats are trampling,
I lay in the middle frowning,
The sky is grey with clouds,
A ceiling,

If only it could fall and let me raise from the ruins,
If only the men would stop smiling,
Piercing with their eyes my deserved rest,

If only there were no fingers tapping the surfaces of many watches,
If only there were no black suitcases with an ocean of paperwork filling them,

The grass is fresh and invites the mouth to bite,

But I would be poisoned,
It’s fake.

The blades of grass are fake.

Thunder through the devil’s hour
You are the nights awake
Eyes full of ceiling
Bending shadows like trees

Fateful days
Spent in the rain and sleet and snow
Is that where you go?
When the drunken clouds roll
And blackened skies ring forth
Whipping ‘cross your windowpane

You are the bedridden longing
One Mississippi
Two…four
Resounding darkness
Breaths contained
Mind drifting miles away
In like the latch-key
Stumbling down the hall
Caked boots, pristine sheets
Her body alternates
Pitch black; flash of day

Slipping down the overpass
You are the hand squeezed tight
Wide-eyed rearview
Tear-streaked sky

Praying for storm clouds
Beneath fluorescent lights

Marching Band

Now we could all go into a debate about
Whether marching band is a sport or not
But we’re not
Because everyone in marching band knows it’s a sport
And those who aren’t don’t get a say in it
Simply because they have no clue how hard we work
But enough about that

Marching band is …
Everyone breathing together
Knowing what everyone will do
Being completely in sync with one another

It praying the flags don’t hit you
Hoping the judge won’t be near you
At the one spot you always miss
Being forced to deal with stress
Whether yours or someone else’s

In marching band …
We are a single unit
We must all be in time
No one out of step
Keep with the tempo
Learn to hate the continuous clicks
Of a device sent to torture us

In marching band we learn …
To fear when the directors make music changes
Or worse …. Our dot positions
That water and sunscreen are gods
Especially in the Texas sun
That even if there’s a bee on you … don’t move

In marching band we force ourselves …
To wake up early and stay up late practicing
Two weeks before school starts
To not give up even when nothing is going right
To deal with the props no matter how much we despise them
Awake after hour long bus rides so we can perform our best

For the people in marching band …
We are all one big family
If someone messes up we’ll all do it again
We help each other get ready for competitions
we provide for each other when we forget something
Even if we don’t win, we’ll keep pushing to do better
Those eight minutes can be the best or the worst moments in our life
We know we left everything on the field

In our family …
We will stand by each other
You will have support for everything
We understand that large problems aren’t the only ones
We will help each other with everything no matter how small

Marching band is many things
But most of all
It’s the feeling of everyone’s desire to succeed
It doesn’t matter where you come from

In marching band
We succeed as a family

Do we all come to be
whole and raw,
Perfectly packaged
with definite fatal flaws?
Or are we never truly ourselves
but constantly evolving
until the very end
undefined and ever changing?

Flew half way ’round the world
to find scenic views pretty and fair,
and ended up finding my forever family
with infinite memories and love to share
Plane tickets come
with hopes, dreams, and new places,
but who knew they turned strangers
into loving and familiar faces?

Tumbling through the heavens
consumed with wanderlust
Leaving behind
pretty trails of star dust
Wild, unique, and free
like a rare comet
Wherever she goes
she melts hearts like a sunset
Her celestial glow resembles the moon’s
She spreads warmth like the sun
The universe could never compare to her
She is a cosmic paradox, all in one.

Received with disdain
in this abominable world,
through poetry’s solace
my tempestuous spirit unfurled.
With an ink tipped sword in my hand
and a swirl of petrifying emotions in the corner of my heart
I slayed them all, word by word
till my soul laid bare in poetic art