poem, Poetry

Wishing for Home – Elena Barrera-Waters

it’s funny, because last time i wrote,

i said i didn’t love my home.

yet here i am, writing away,

filled with the loneliness for home that i’ve

never yet felt.

maybe it’s that i know i’m gone long,

or that i won’t be able to see the things with which

i’m most familiar,

or be able to pet my dogs and take a long shower

and curl into the covers in my cold room.

but it’s hot here, in rooms without ac.

and it’s lonely. in a week, no one has hugged me.

(and you don’t think about how much you need hugs

until you haven’t had one in a while and

your body feels cold and empty and dirty

and lonelier than even your heart)

and there aren’t dogs here, no sight of my family

worrying about me, and my happiness,

from nearly 2000 miles away.

and maybe that’s not far.

and maybe 3 weeks isn’t that long.

but if i’m missing a place that i’ve talked about disliking,

then clearly something is off.

when i went shopping the other day,

i saw a book about home

and burst into tears in the middle

of the store.

and while i certainly wish that

i could enjoy myself while here,

wanting to be home is something

i wish far more.

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Poetry

How to Smile – Brooke Safferman

Sleep, or something else quite calming seeps into my veins

Soporific, exotic, quixotic –

your free spirit kindles the kindred flame within my own heart,

and you tell me that you are glad that I exist

And then you let me in on a little secret

Together we fly away, in an airplane and only the two of us can feel the air

Streamlining through an atmosphere in which only we can breathe,

the two of us

and I forget how to say your name without a gasp of air escaping through my parted lips

But yet, I never forget

How to smile.

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Poetry

Paradise – Harika Kottakota

Paradise nestles
In a canopy of
Iridescent fractals

Where you are buoyant as helium
Where you are not hunter, not prey
And burden nothing

Kneel beside pools of ambrosia
Reflecting memories
Of mortal virtues, immortal agressions

Set free your loyal muse
So she may replenish her lyric
Crossing the golden arch

Watch and listen to
All you have ever, never known

But never relive

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Poetry

Blue Sky Breaths – Karlee Sanders

summer consists of
blue sky breaths and
sunset smiles
bonfire blues and
friends for a while
as the days get longer
and nights turn wild
summer’s a time
for us not to be mild
family days spent
along with our money
the smell of the wind
is sweeter than honey
summer
a deserved break
students and adults alike
have an awesome sunny strike
it’s never wrong
to want summer to be long
it comes and it goes
and helps rid us of woes
summer
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Poetry

this one guy – Iman Messado

there’s this dude with a wide face
and glasses that might’ve
reflected a son’s tears or a
wife’s furrowed brows
his lips are large and etched in
and i wonder if God
knew that he would
be in between 2 rather large men
on the subway
eyes glazed gazing straight ahead
shoulders hunched
head lolling
from the angry rumbling of the train
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Poetry

Dark Heart – Ugonma Ubani-Ebere

Darkness.
I can see it
My eyes are open, but I am still blind
I can feel it.
Empty, hollow, and a velvety sorrow.
I can taste it
A bittersweet fear, mixed with salty tears
I can hear it
A silent muted sound of desperation.
And my pulse racing with perspiration
I stretch out my hand to seek your solace
Nothing
I call out your name, so we can embrace
Nothing
I feel the loneliness creep up my spine
Nothing
I repeat my mantra that I am fine
Nothing
Darkness cannot exist without light
But where is the light in my time of need?
The light is the only thing my soul can heed
I press on in the pitch black despite my conscience opposition
The darkness draws me in without caution
I’m convinced that you are in the darkness waiting for me
I just can’t see
I continuously call out your name
Nothing
Hoping you will do the same
Nothing
Extending my hand for your touch
Nothing
I miss your voice so much
Nothing
No light can set apart
The darkness in my heart
I call for you once more in the absence of your presence
Nothing
I am nothing
So I welcome the darkness, not as an enemy
But an old friend.
Who my heart will cherish to the end

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Poetry

Takeoff – Alex Esterline

a·vi·a·tion

  1. the flying or operating of aircraft.

That which man previously thought impossible,

now sold commercially.

The world is connected by flights

to any destination one could need.

Millions fly every day, strapping themselves in,

preparing for their stomachs to counteract the

soaring climb through the clouds.

Some excited,

Some terrified.

As the wings soar through the pinkest of skies,

Most are scared of the plane itself,

yet there’s one thing i’d fear most-

it’s stepping out of the jetway, and

seeing you-

the one who leaves sunspots in my eyes.

What’s it like knowing

that the slightest touch of your hands

would surmount any ascent through the skies?

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Poetry

We Tiptoe on Thorns – Poppy Lam

Forever alone
I’m surrounded by people
Merely puppets
With painted masks
Too afraid to rebel
To stand up to society
Unknowing eyes
Yet telling tales
Without words
They enjoy our fails
We swallow their glass
We Tiptoe on thorns
Aren’t you tired of loosing blood?
Aren’t you tired of wincing with every step?
Why not crack the mask and  make your own path
The candle is already flickering
And It was evernescent  from the start.
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Poetry, Prosetry

You Like to Play with Danger, Don’t You? – Brooke Safferman

You like to play with danger, don’t you?

Sexuality undulating like the ocean’s waves, wit as sharp as the scissors in your back pocket

Of course, you say, I like to be hands on, you say as you cut open the package with

One single line of bad intentions.

My eyes drop down to the dirt beneath the plot of grass, and

The toe of your left cowboy boot’s digging in to the very earth that birthed you

Mother, oh Mother, where are you now?

The entirety of my mind is a word-search puzzle,

Full of the words I cannot say because they’re all scrambled up hopelessly,

Like the eggs your papa used to cook for us when we were still just sleepy kids

But over the years I’ve learned the hard way not to hold your hand for too long because

You like to play with danger… don’t you?

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