Category: 2017-18 Submissions

A letter to myself when I was born …

You will be born I say,
August 28th is the day.

No need to be scared when you come out,
Even though there will be a ruckus about.

After two years have passed,
The love from your family will last.

And last.
And last.
And last.

---

Gorzycki Middle School

6

The one thing that always keeps me awake,
The one thing that never ever goes away,

Stays down in the basement where nobody strays,
Stays below when day to stay in the shade,

Waits till dark to finally make his way,
Climbs up the stairway covered in his cape,

Looks for someone who stayed though it’s late,

To march up the stairs and come where I lay,
To slip his teeth into my throat and take me as prisoner far far away

---

Kiker Elementary

4

As the light slips away from the sky
The haunter of dreams begins to rise

One by one he collects his beasts
To invade the minds of children fast asleep

Witches, demons, even the dark, start to enter the dreams of children near and far

The children squirm on their beds as the devilish creatures control their heads

Then in the morning when the sun starts to appear,
The ghastly beings flee the scene until finally, their master fear comes near

---

Kiker Elementary

4

Look at the way the waves roll

Look at the way the water rises

Look at the way the foam clears See how the sea goes

When she sets foot on the shore.

 

Look at the way the fish drown

Look at the way the geese fall from the sky

Look at the way the moon hides her face

See how the flowers feel ashamed

When she walks nearby.

 

Look at the way the mist curls

Look at the way the fog fades

Look at the way the haze leaves

See how the fume dries

When she parts the ferns to look at them.

 

Look at the way the skies weep

Look at the way the clouds cry

Look at the way the sun sheds tears

See how the stars dim and dull

When she laughs.

 

Look at the way the rivers flow

Look at the way the streams run

Look at the way the brooks surge

See the way the creeks overflow

When she plays her flute.

 

Look at the way the mountains crumble

Look at the way the hills collapse

Look at the way the valley dissolves

See the way the cliffs fall apart

When she waves goodbye.

 

Look at the way the china cracks

Look at the way the porcelain breaks

Look at the way the vases shatter

See how the winecup fractures

When she walks away.

 

Look at the way she wipes her face

Look at the way she holds in her tears

Look at the way she rips her hair out

See how her tears slide down her face, and

Then she doesn’t look back.

 

A thousand knives slice through a heart

A million streetlights can’t brighten a pair of eyes anymore

A billion fireflies dart here and there

And a trillion butterflies flap their wings, waiting for

Winter to end, and for Spring to finally come,

again.

People are always drifting

They fly here and there and anywhere.

So let me remind you

Of the time I broke my wings.

 

Angels go everywhere

You can never see them but they’re there.

The feathers that fall on the ground

They came from somewhere.

 

Maybe the sky was built on a few dreams

And yet I can’t seem to ever remember.

But, say, if I saw you again

Would you try to find me a second time?

 

If I walked past you

Would your heart take you to the past?

Maybe you’d feel a flicker

And suppress it with a smile and walk on.

 

And maybe the river runs in torrents

Faster than we can blink our eyes.

See that the sun now burns brighter

When there are no clouds in the sky.

 

Let’s take the river to the sky

We’ll swim through air to our past.

Let’s take the train with no return

And let old memories fade fast.

 

Walk on dried tears

To leave behind our fears.

Go headfirst through a drain

To find our childhood again.

 

If you find me it’d be in vain,

I don’t think I would be the same.

And I don’t think you would disagree

That you’ve also changed.

 

Everywhere I go

Scenes from a tale told long ago

Run through my mind

Brushing cobwebs off wounds

Spinning new stories

And never forgetting the old ones.

 

A being consists of more than one hue,

The impenetrable black of the night,

One of the colors is the pigment blue.

Can block the passage of our soul’s bright light.

 

In February songbirds like to sing,

Sunsets and sunrises can be dark brown,

Anticipating a vibrant new spring.

But let’s all not be sorrowful and frown.

 

Few things on Earth go faster than a car,

Rivers run by us in a hurried pace,

But you’ll find time is more fleeting by far.

Washing away and burying the past.

 

People’s hearts may not all pine for the same,

We should feel neither blame nor any shame.

Vanilla is like chocolate
divided
but equal.
Dead is like alive
you are alive but you have no soul
no roots
no life.
Creation is like destruction
two entities
one neverending battle.

---

Gorzycki Middle School

6th