Through their eye’s everything is magnified,
A light touch is a mighty blow,
A flick of a switch is a raging storm,
A small ember is a seething hell,
They feel the need to convert experiences into masterpieces
Be it photos, drawing, music or writing
It may just be a snap of a camera but it’s their way of capturing their life and seeing it from a new perspective
It may just be a few sketchy lines but it’s how they portray their emotions and discover themselves
It may just be a few notes but it’s their sole way of communicating with the world
It may just be ink to a page but it’s their emotions soaring over the white landscape
The need to fill the obsidian darkness which lingers within
To drop the mask, stand back and watch it shatter
So you go and judge but we won’t be the one’s coughing up the ashes of a burnt out flame.
Tag Archives: inklingwriting
The Artist – Brooke Safferman
16 colored pencils lay before your handsthey are trembling with anticipation;
you are trembling with anticipation
a masterpiece waiting to be revealed
but you are the only one who can manifest it
and make it come to life with the power of your genius mind
the clock ticks on and suddenly you shake your head
there’s too much pressure to do the things that must be done
but the desire of making, of creating, of bringing to life, has begun to overtake you
dancing, your fingers are dancing as they slide the pencils across the page,
shapes and shades being formed by the colors of passion rather than that of the lead
I, too, originated as one of your masterpieces – and for that, I am forever grateful.
I’m Sorry – Alexandra Mayer
I am from a defeated town
with deadbeat afternoons,
lawn chairs and lemonade,
and church clothes that cling in the heat.
Our bones are heavy.
I told you, I loved you like
the shimmering but separate rainbow fish swirl of oil in the puddles of asphalt parking lots.
And then I left.
You told me
you wanted to get closer, closer
so we could breath each other in.
And then, like that, three years went by
without you.
I was in Philosophy of Ethics when I read your facebook status:
“I LIED. AND SO I’LL BE FERRYING THOSE OF YOU I CAN WITH ME TO THE NEXT WORLD. I’LL POST A BRIDGE BEFORE I LEAVE.”
The Professor went on.
Heraclitus once said, “Everything Flows.”
Plato revised: “Everything changes.”
I called.
Your voice sounded like a meteor tearing into earth.
I heard wisps of gold cloud your eyes, when you said,
“I’m high. I’m high. If you don’t love me, I’ll hang myself from the rafters of hell.”
Silence dangled over us.
Later you told me you could feel it
wrap around your neck
like the noose used on your Grandfather.
I didn’t think of that.
I called the police.
I wanted you to be okay.
The officer was kind to me.
His voice sounded like velvet.
Then, for six nights, the stars dried out my eyes.
They warned me–
‘Only the dead shine.’
You called,
finally, from Silver Hill Mental Hospital.
It was your Mother’s Bipolar Disorder that got you there.
But it was your Father’s black skin
that made the officer with a velvet voice
think it was okay to hurt you.
I’m sorry I didn’t believe you when you told me
he pressed his fists into your gut
and plunged his hands around your neck.
I’m sorry, you had to send me pictures. I still can’t believe you did.
It looked like Jupiter’s rings tried to split you in two pieces.
I’m sorry that I can still drag my fingers across your scars.
I just wanted you to be okay
because I saw a life like hydrangeas and summer sunsets in your eyes.
and I remembered the elm tree where we took branches for seats and traded secrets.
And I knew just segments of your soul,
but I could see you’re bursting with a history and a story.
I just wanted you to be okay.
But he just saw a black body,
said you were a ‘dangerous madman resisting arrest.’
Rainfall – Brooke Safferman
Some
Rainy
Days
I
Like
To
Look
Up
At
The
Clouds
Through
My
Skylight
And
I
Watch
The
Droplets
Fall
Like
Words
In
A
Poem
Sorta
Like
This
One
And
I
Think
Of
How
You
Used
To
Hold
My
Hand
And
Kiss
My
Softly
On
The
Tip
Of
My
Nose.
Perspective of a Man – Karlee Sanders
every sunrise,
every sappy love quote,
could never be as beautiful
as the words her fingers wrote—
in the sky
connecting constellations
to the moon.
maybe it was the way she looked in the night air.
the picturesque white light on her face,
she was all things innocent and as innocuous as she could be.
but when the moonlight fell upon her fair skin,
she was a wildfire of blue and purple mixed with the almost fluorescent light and soft brown in her eyes and hair.
she could’ve outshone the sun.
not a soul on this planet could ever convince me that she was flawed in any way.
the way she touched my hands ever so carefully made me feel intoxicated with the inane butterflies she always rambled about.
when our eyes met that night, we were a part of the same dark sky we wore on our shoulders.
we were stars.
and nothing else mattered.
rain & i – Elena Barrera-Waters
it’s 5:56 in the morning
(on a weekend)
and the rain is pounding
and it’s loud
and the windows are shaking, even if only a little.
it’s funny because
i’m always so eager to go to sleep,
to stop the world for just a while,
to escape the noise of yesterday
and today
and even tomorrow.
but right now,
i’m up
and alive
and my heart pounds with life
to the same beat as the rain pounding against the pane of my window
On A Delayed Flight to DC – Iman Messado
x) Nails growing from having been chipped for too long
x) Youtube playlists blowing a crackle-pop low quality rendition of the Black Keys into the rounded curves of my ears
x) My brother’s sweater, because you never know what is golden when it’s hidden in the dark dank musk of your teenage boy closet
x) Gummy worms with loud colors and quiet flavors and squirming bodies and flaccid hearts – you can’t help but feel like a reptilian predator when you gulp one down
x) A conscience lathered firmly with a lukewarm potion of guilt and disappointment with an almost negligible splash of I REALLY DON’T CARE ANYMORE
x) Tired teenage girls v. the rest of the world.
Something Like Freedom – Brooke Safferman
Hope in a bottle
Spilling out loudly
The sound crashes in our ears
No regrets, never regrets.
Shouting from rooftops, from birds’ backs, from the skies
Liberty is a thing that can be purchased
With determination and strength
We have things inside of us we never even knew we had to begin with.
Lean on back and close your eyes
The smells wander on in: fresh cut grass and gasoline;
Balloon animals and your dog peeing on the fence
Hey, it’s alright now. Hey.
That beautiful moment where you’re at a loss of words
Because you don’t have a thesaurus with you
That could give you another option, another choice for the word that means
Something like freedom.S
Smoker – Karlee Sanders
CIGARETTE IN HAND YOU TOLD ME YOU WOULD SWIM ACROSS OCEANS FOR ME
SMOKE POURING OUT OF YOUR NOSTRILS YOU SMILED AND IT MADE MY HEART LEAP
WITH YOUR LIGHTER FLICKERING YOU PROMISED I WOULDN’T GET HURT
BUT WHAT I DIDNT KNOW WAS THAT I WAS YOUR CIGARETTE
BURNING FOR YOU
TO MAKE YOU FEEL GOOD
AND EVENTUALLY YOU WOULD DISCARD ME
AND ID BE NOTHING BUT ASHES
BLOWING AWAY IN THE WIND
I Just Can’t Love You Either – Brooke Safferman
Where is my home now?
Broken hearts more painful than the shifting bones they belong to
Where is my home now?
Unspoken words burning my inner ears like a radio set to static
I have learned to no longer ask any questions that
I would really rather not know the answer to.
Your fingers on my collar bone, your fingers in my hair
Exhale.
“I just can’t love a person like you.”
Inhale? Inhale, inhale, inhale!
You beg to yourself,
But all of the oxygen has left the twin-size bed.
And all you have left to breath in is
The truth.
Here today, gone tomorrow they always told me
I always thought you’d be the one to prove them wrong
Your smile was bright but your heart was even brighter
Or so I thought.
Or so I thought.
At night, when I’m still awake, 50 shades of the-light-is-off-so-why-can’t-I-sleep
It’s been three months, give or take a few days
And the words you said still haunt my dreams.
Inhale.
Inhale.
Inhale.
“I just can’t love a person like you.”
But then, one of these nights, an epiphany occurred
In the darkness of the night
I just can’t love you, either.
Inkling 