Vision+Voice

The smooth ink
The firm grip
The click sound
The professional look
The agile movements

My math saviors
Making my work illegible
Too illegible to read,
So I get points anyway

Creators of iconic doodles
Millions of smiley faces
Millions of boxes

This ode is to pens
Man’s greatest creation

Someone calls for help, a hero stands tall,
Jorge Pastore, he answered the call.
A firefighter paramedic, brave and true,
To the sound of sirens, he rushed on through.
From Parkland to Marjory Stoneman Douglas High,

He faced the darkness, he heard the cry.
A guardian of the injured, heeding his call.
In the line of duty, he gave his all,
Then a new path he’s seen, an officer he became,

To serve and protect, to honor their names.
With courage and valor, he wore the badge no matter the day,
In the face of danger, he stood his ground,
A hero for some, forever a “dad” he will be renowned

His legacy shall live on, through the lives he touched
He shall be remembered as a hero, who has been admired so very much
With a sacrifice never forgotten, and a spirit always strong
In the hearts of many, you will forever belong

With an outpouring of tears, we must say farewell to a pioneer
“Rest easy, Officer Pastore, we’ll take it from here”

Blue

I remember when blue was my favorite color
How it filled my 7 year old heart with so much happiness
I remember looking up at the daytime sky and seeing its beautiful color

My favorite color is now green
It still gives me the similar feeling when I see it
But not the same

The reason for this is the first time for
everything is always better
The first bite
Your first steps
Your first word
Blue was my first favorite

There is a feeling
So deeply universal
Shared within the palms and temples of all girls
A feeling that rises in her chest
That makes each one of her shaven hairs
Stand at attention
A feeling that no single word
Has the capacity to describe
That pools of frustration well
In her still-puffy
Still-tired eyes
A familiar feeling
Or one that each girl will grow to familiarize herself with
When a man she expected more from
Hoped better of
Is in the end
Simply and truly
A man
Forever wanting
Forever unsatisfied

Wind blows amongst the sands
Dry heat prevents the flower
Until tended by gentle hands

Concrete pillars shadow the lands
Corruption brews within the tower
Wind blows amongst the sands

Lowered head, alone she stands
Salty tears mix with shower
Until tended by gentle hands

Frustrations plauged by endless ands
Endings leave the mouth sour
Wind blows amongst the sands

Endless fears he withstands
Only feels a loss of power
Until tended by gentle hands

The weight of the worlds demands
Every thing at every hour
Wind blows amongst the sands
Until tended by gentle hands

This water wants you dead,
this is something that most learn early;
you are young, you are free, sand at your feet
and then you’re four feet below,
just above your height
clinging to a stranger’s arm to free her gasp
she will let you go just this once,
but the sea will always call back.

And I long for her voice,
rough at the edges and young
the way she combs her hair back
between the gaps of her fingers
her eyes wide, curious, shell-shocked
I will be buried not in a prairie
rather the waves, endless, persistent

A wide open expanse
Nothing but the same forever
Miles of blue ripples
Complemented by the life under the surface

Some say rough
Some say calming
Some say scary
Everyone has a view on it

Littered with secrets
Tales of bravery
Stories of fear and cowardice
Folklore of what lies beneath

A magical place
Filled with knowledge
Shrouded in mystery

She sugarcoats her memories
With candy canes and gummy trees
She sugarcoats her memories
It never really bothered me

She traveled 20 blocks
To a school with broken locks
But to you, it was just 2
To a school, shined and new.

That’s how she reaches happiness
With lies forced to reminisce
It’s not a shiny metal
It’s not a rose petal

It’s her brand story
Her molded golded glory

She never meant to hurt
She acts to lift us high
To her, they are not lies
But a force to clear our skies

We distract ourselves
All hours of the day
Going about our lives
Our attention divided

But once were home
The leaves go still
And reach a moment of quiet
A moment of reflection

You see what you have done
Who you are
What lies ahead
Whether you like it or not

And in this brief period
Where your attention isn’t called
You can see your true self
In a new revealing light

Some find peace in these moments
Others find it terrifying
It’s all perspective
When you hear the silence

Once long ago,
There was a house.
This house lived on the top of a hill in a rural area.
The house looked old, and abandoned.
Like it hadn’t been inhabited in years.
There was also once a girl,
A girl who went by the name of Julia.
Julia lived in the town where the house was located.
She heard many stories of the house from many people all her life.
One night, she was with her friends.
The group was playing truth or dare,
When it was Julias turn to get asked the question,
“Truth or dare?”
She picked the option dare, and she was told,
“Go into the old house on the hill and stay there for 10 minutes”
Julia was not one to turn down dares,
So she and her group drove down to that forsaken house.
The car parked right in front of the walkway to the house.
Julia stepped out of the car, trying not to show how absolutely terrified she was.
She slowly walked up to that house.
How large it was, creepily towering over her
like a giant monster.
She got up to the front porch, feeling a chill down her spine.
She swallowed her fears, grabbed the rusted doorknob, and steadily stepped inside.
That was the last anyone seen of Julia.