Category: 2022-23 Submissions

Dates

Girls are mysterious
Their thoughts are delirious
while often serious
Yet their words are still mysterious

In utter confusion, I am left
Over and over just another test
Leaving me Stressed
I merely want to rest
I’m not obsessed, just unrest
I must confess, I would like to go on a date, I might overdress
the only right answer is YES

endless

The endless sound of song rings with the grace of light
The muse of song grazed my hands, asking for chapters
Yet to come

Filling the air of grace and love, filling my lungs with pride and shame
The song cleansed my impure soul, freed me from the ties of hearts
Life can begin a chapter of new

Reflections of the past. so clear so old still haunt this very soul
Lessons were taught, and lessons were learned

This new chapter will burn, but I will still hold.

The muse of song burns with me
The burning song of life must be heard
The muse won’t let me waste a song
The endless song holds all songs
My song wont be a waste
so keep the song endless
for I want to hear your song

So weak So strong

So wise so strong, so weak so small
Rise from ash, rise from the sea
But fell from hate. Fell for love
Don’t cry, don’t weep
Love is strong, love is weak
A flowers burning passion must not grow weak
A rare beauty, a flower of passion
The color of grace, the pride of shine
Something foretold the flowers’ grace
But The greed of love held the endless sadness
And ate the grace and took the shine
Rise from hate, rise from betrayal
A rare beauty must be strong
So do Look ahead,
the sun’s your passion
the moon your elegance
The rain will heal a broken flower
But a flower of passion needs a new love
Find new ground, leave the polluted soil and look to
The other side
A flower of passion is not alone
A flower of passion has a home

Reflection

To reflect
To look back
Oh to look forward!
To stare
Until the eyes begin to droop
The nose falling to the left
Mouth slipping down the chin
To distort

To stare at the distortion, knowing deep down it is you
but being unable to recognize
Unable to tear your gaze away

A future in the reflection
To step inside
To grab
To hold
To cradle
Such a delicate future

Oh to have a guarantee!
To know for certain that it awaits

Yet the distortion creeps further apart
A reflection of something yet to come
If it comes at all

To look back
Unwilling to look forward

Thanksgiving

Snow. Snow is all I can remember.
Wait that was in December.
Hearts? No that was Valentine’s Day.
What could be for November?
Ah, I remember now.
Turkey.
Families getting together.
A night of being thankful.
A room lit with light so you can see the wonderful food.
Smiling faces.
Sweet cornbread in the oven.
Smell of cranberry sauce.
A show of how it all started.
That’s November.

Where I’m from

Where I’m from…

I am from wash rags,
From dish soap and pans.
I am from the pile of wood behind the house.
(Normal logs had the aroma of rotten eggs.)
I am from the blue bonnets,
The oak tree
What was once my playscape
As if it was my jungle gym.

I am from sam which photos and blonde hair
From Liana and Joe Bob
I’m from eating together and being ajar
And from learning together.
I’m from working diligently and no eating grass
And honesty is the best policy.
I’m from Family Heirlooms.

I am from Albuquerque, New Mexico, and Leander, Texas
And from Cajun Chicken Pasta and Corn chip tacos.
From a remarkable dad
The most obnoxious but caring person on this planet
I am from those moments-
The laughing, the crying, and everything else-
All in four walls

Waves of Emotion

I try to breathe but the pressure drowns me
I can’t stay afloat
I’m trying so hard to reach the top
But it’s always out of reach

I need to stop and flow with the waves
Instead, they take me down
Falling, falling, falling
Further from the top once more

I’ll get back up but what the point
The waves will take me down each time
But, what if it’s different this time
What if the sun shines through and the waves calm and I’m able to reach the top

There isn’t always a storm at sea
The waves do calm eventually
The sun does shine
And laughter returns to the shore

I will wait for the storm to cease
I will breathe again
I will reach the top
I will fight the waves

I am

I am the green of the trees
The grass is as still as space
The shining sun with little gold lace

I wonder why the moon and sun are never together
Why the little small voice is always whispering hush

I hear the small breeze
and my breath being released
and the swings in a sea of rust

I see the green mixed with the night sky
of the chairs, the sky blue as a ripe blueberry

I want the yellow roses with rocks and sticks of all colors and the grass to brush my feet as I walk

I am the sky, the clouds, the sun, and moon
I am me