2018-19 Submissions – Page 28

Hubris From 35,000 Feet

The in-flight map says we’re over Winnetka, but the suburb looks the same,

and I get the same feeling: I could card my hands through tiny trees and puncture frozen ponds.

I want to trace the lines the farmers made. I want to work with my uncalloused hands.

If there is sadness here, it is stowed in the overhead compartment.

Arrogance peeks its blonde head through the cabin door. I pretend to look out the window.

Separated from Earth by a thin layer of vapor, these streets could belong to me.

James Bowie High School

Paper Dreams

My dreams have grown mundanely vivid. I can’t nimbly untangle their milky opacity from my waking life. Last night,

I dreamt of folding paper animals, touching corner to crease, mimicking breathing creatures: crane, cat, fish, and fox. I ordered them

on the horizon of my dresser – a patient pageant towards the ark, spaced airily, like nightgowns on a clothesline or owls in the night.

When I shuddered into morning, I woke not to a rush of cranes, but to the wind fluttering a map through my open window.

The topography covered me like a quilt. My dreams were thin, blue paper, but I could put a pin through the map and trace the interstate with thread.

James Bowie High School

Breeze

Your lonely whisper such a song across the plain

Through the treetops Flying is a blast

Yet your thinking of how much you could gain

Would it ever last

Sneaking by, experiencing so much hurt

Trying to be heard falling to your knees

Thoughts could be heard bet ween the dirt

You are lesser only the breese

But you have feelings too

Deep down inside about to break

If only they knew

Your feelings s w e p t away with a gentle rake

When you take a STAND when you need a friend

Who better than the wind

Gorzycki Middle School

Anticipation

I count the hours, the minutes, the seconds on my hand.
The journey has begun, around me, a nauseous dome.
I sit there, I wait, wait for the motherland.

I imagine my feet running in the sand.
My mind, in an endless roam.
I count the hours, the minutes, the seconds on my hand.

The moving carts are like a loud, unsynchronized band.
The noises overwhelm, but the clouds outside a calm, soft foam.
I sit there, I wait, wait for the motherland.

I watch them waiting for the dreamland.
Rotting away, still as a garden gnome.
I count the hours, the minutes, the seconds on my hand.

I listen softly to the music strand.
The journey is at its end, around me, a sleepy dome.
I sit there, I wait, wait for the motherland.

The long, long minutes we all have to withstand.
I just want to go home.
I count the hours, the minutes, the seconds on my hand.
We sit there, we wait, wait for the motherland.

McCallum High School

The Last day on Earth

My love, slowly fading away in my eyes,
her bright blue ominous eyes, getting less threatening,
slowly, the color washes away from her beautiful face,
drowning in a mass of confusion.

Water, slowly trickling down my parched lips,
landing on my dry bed in a “Splash!”

Colors, all around me, like a loved scent that you could never turn from,
skillfully drifting away in the dark shadows.
“Call back,” I say, with no conviction in my voice,
but the beautiful bright colors that once used to overwhelm me with pride,
are now black and dusty like a dark cavern.

My eyelids flutter closed slowly and soundly,
all my precious items disappearing in my view,
drifting back behind my socket.

My heart, strumming its last beat, like a guitar strumming its last note,
and then finally stops with a drums final beat.

My life has slowly slithered away from me,
and everything I cared for has

vanished.

Gorzycki Middle School

Circus

you favor the contrast between the red
and the black

my elegance swings but hangs

what if you have no way of determining whether this entertainment is just an excuse to disguise my fall as something beautiful?

(yes) i have glitter in my eyes
and perhaps you can’t see my particular pain?

i
have to glorify this lie
although it is true that
i
am but a trapeze acrobat

in no way am i just red or fancy or flexible

you are not vexed by my nature because (to you)
i am an orchestra (too)
easily you develop an adoration for my tunes

i am so high and
(i know) i entertain your loss(es)

the red i sport
you
do not envision as blood

i am love
i am the seasons
hurting or pleasing

why is time a bore?
you shouldn’t think (that) i was born this way

i sparkle for a reason
even if the first time is the last
even if the landing isn’t pretty
i know why i stand

nonetheless
i crave an immediate and sudden end to this (ride)
it feels like 25 cents
hunger is past 12
and fun is only a 3 letter word

Stony Point High School

Nostalgia

In a freezing Costco I look for
the warm orange
of some freshly harvested
pumpkin
or the deep smell of dried hay.

Out of the window I imagine
a tiny car and immeasurable
countryside,
but I just see boundless
streets and intrusive trucks.

Pale places
used to bored me
in my memories now
I’m intrigued by their joyful color.

Family
an expert puppet master that
used to suffocate me,
now I search for them
in my dreams.

Voices
were loud and oppressive
a barking noise
now I can hear them calling from afar
like Ulysses’s mermaids never-ending song
imploring to go home.

My stomach is full of stones,
there’s a weight in my lungs,
Not air,
but
nostalgia.

James Bowie High School

Beyond the Horizon

The sand and dirt hit my face
As I stepped into a mysterious place
One from a memory long, long ago
From a place where the wind never blows
The sand was a fiery field on hot summer days
Where you could only really sit and gaze
At an unforgiving place that was never home
And think through the possibilities and roam
I saw trees with birds that flew so high
Twinkling in that same summer sky
But in a different place that I could see
A little girl finally full of glee
Through adventures and car rides that lasted days
I found this peace in unfortunate ways
But the end was blissful and finally I
Found the place where I could touch the sky

James Bowie High School

Little Firefly

I am a firefly, burning with ambition and curiosity.
I wonder about the world around me and where my inner light will guide me.
I hear the melodies of crickets chirping in the distance.
I see inexplicable beauty in nature.
I dance majestically in the dark night sky.
I am a firefly, burning with ambition and curiosity.
I yearn to fly far beyond the constraints that this world imposes on me.
I feel the glow of the moonlight on my face.
I touch the hearts of others with my warmth and bright light.
I worry about what I do and if it is too much or too little.
I cry about the past, but am hopeful for the future ahead of me.
I am a firefly, burning with ambition and curiosity.
I understand that my inner light is the brightest light of all.
I believe strength comes from within and I can do anything I set my mind to.
I dream of the things I cannot see, but can feel in my heart.
I try my best to look for the good in everyone.
I hope that people will look up to me and that I will be an example to others.
I am a firefly, burning with ambition and curiosity…
Who will illuminate the world with my inner glow.

James Bowie High School

Photographs

one still image
could hold so much,
1000 actions posted
between the picture.

memories of the past
become apparent,
sad…happy
who knew so much was in something,
so little.

even those who try to forget,
And those who want to remember,
photos remind everybody
of what life
was,
just like a story, a photo can unfold a side
you didn’t know you had

Gorzycki Middle School