fall

in the midst of fall a, chilly breeze blows through a forest

trees covered with leaves of red, orange, and yellow start to wobble in the wind

the bright colors slowly start to blow away

leaving just the dull, dark, barren limbs

longing for the day

when the warm spring breezes and the bright green leaves

return

Love

Love,

It keeps the world together.

It keeps us together.

Love,

It makes me feel all warm and tingly inside.

It makes me have a smile from ear to ear.

Actually, it kind of makes me want to scream.

But then again …

Love,

It makes me want to tear my heart out.

It makes me hurt on the inside and out.

When it’s over, it feels like a knife being stabbed into my gut.

It feels like everything is slowly slipping away,

Out of my reach and into thin air.

Love,

It suffocates.

But, it’s real.

Love,

It’s so weird.

Moving Fast

The ball,
is as bright as a yellow raincoat,
on a gray gloomy day.

It is released from the pitchers palm,
Furiously fast,
like a cheetah racing against a turtle.

It soars through the air,
Like a bird flying over the ocean.

The batter blinks,
and does not realize what just went by.

Alone

The boy walks down the halls, people staring from every direction.
He keeps walking.
Some funny kid decides to stick out his foot and trip the boy.
He picks up his books and keeps walking.
Taunts and jokes arise from each and every mouth.
He shuts it out and keeps walking.
He finds his friends at the end of the hall, and they walk away together.
Remember, you're never Alone.

River of Regret

Water flows fast

Through rocks and rubble, like a freight train through a meadow

The water keeps flowing

Rocks in the river so lonely and afraid

Yet water powerful and unforgiving

It will take the rock and mold it

The rock now smooth has nothing left

Only to let the water through again and again

Pressure

Pressure

Pressure is the weight of a 5 ton anvil
squeezing you until you burst the word yes.

Pressure can over ride someone’s continence
like a computer virus hacking software.

Pressure can cause someone to do some thing bad
while the person is herring voices inside there head with guilt so strong
it chills their spine from the inside out.

Pressure will turn some ones mind to the devil.
Unless their hearts with god.

The pressure to ace a test is different than all the others that destroy who you really are.
This pressure emphasis’s it
And shows that you can do anything.

The pressure and force of the law
makes the streets a better place.
It makes the pedestrians feel,
Safer
Secure
Stronger

So they don’t fall into the black vortex of evil pressure that smothers the word,

“NO”

Cave of Darkness

It swallows the child up
and he is not seen until bedtime,
From the minute he wakes up,
'Till the moment he goes to bed,
He is in that cave,
The cave that keeps pulling and pulling and cannot be stopped.

It torments the child as much as possible
Eventually making him go crazy for it,
When you walk into that cave,
it is like a tornado came through and demolished the whole place.

The child is hopeless,
He cannot live for himself,
He has to depend on help from family and friends.

The cave has been shut down, for now.
But then it swallows the child up once again
And does not let him free.

Losing the Battle

War is terrible. It is lonely, violent, and depressing
It has driven me to the brink
I hate war
I despise it with a burning passion
I want no part of it anymore, however, I cannot leave
I cannot fake injury, either, because they know I want to get out
They are suspicious
I must get out, in any way possible
I must take my life
That is the only way out
They have backed me in a corner
I grab my knife, and with a flip of the wrists, I slit my throat
It was all over

Life & Prison

Finally, I am out of that hellhole

As I walk outside
And the fresh air stings my nose
With the smell of flowers and grass and chicken wings,
I am glad to know that I am free.
Free of the shackles that constantly
Strangled my ankles and wrists with a grip
Tighter than an anaconda choking its prey,
Free of the mixture
Of hard cement-like products
That was called “food”,
Free of the cruel guards
That looked for any chance
To throw an insult at me

But when I got back home,
I noticed that things changed.
Now bias outlooks and harsh critics
Strangles my opportunities
Into dust
Now the mixture of flawless intelligence and talent
Is needed to survive
Now people kick me into
A bottomless pit, everyday,
Just to make me lose hope

Now I know that
Life is not different
From prison

Meaning

Love.
The word with no meaning,
Or with countless meanings.
Four letters
That mean so much,
But can also mean so little.

“I love you.”
The phrase with no meaning,
Or with countless meanings.
Three words
That mean so much,
But can also mean so little.

Overused,
Like a messy old doormat
That is torn to shreds,
Being stepped upon with dirty feet,
Over and over and over again.

But what does this word actually mean?
It used to mean
That people had a connection.
That they felt warmth inside their hearts.

But now.
Now it is just a word.
One word.
Four letters.
No meaning.

Mixed Up

Poctnarstiotin. I dno't konw waht to psot.

Aoccdrnig to rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoetnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be at the rghit pclae. The rset can be a toatl mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit a porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe.

Nothing Noticed

The perfect porcelain skin glows,
The golden luscious hair sits neatly,
The bright smile widens
On the outside

The blue eyes sparkle
The stomach lays symmetrical
The long legs stretch
On the outside

But the outside is one thing

The passion pulses
The strength fulfills
The confidence glistens
On the inside

The bravery overpowers
The intelligence conquers
The humor attracts
On the inside

And the inside is another
Another apperance,
No one ever
Bothers to notice

Man's Best Friend

He follows you,
where ever you go
or have gone.

He's just with you
that's the thing

By your side
standing tall

Ready,
Prepared,
Ordered.

He's your mate,
your protector
what he is born to do
he take it down for you
just for you

Last in Line

Owen was always last in line

He was the clumsiest of all

And he was defiantly the smallest.

Owen was the kink in the chain

Out of all of the pigs he was the runt

He was never able to be the best.

At whatever they did he was the worst

When they ate he got the least

And when they slept he got the ground.

The one night something was wrong

Being the curious piglet he was

Owen went to investigate.

He spotted a man breaking into the farm house

Owen squealed as loud as he could

And when he did he was a blow horn.

The animals all woke up

And chased the man away

With Owen leading the way. 

Rain

Small water droplets plummet to the earth
Striking my skin
Chilling the blood in my veins
Freezing all thought except the pain

I tilt my head upwards
Withstanding the torture of a thousand droplets
Pounding endlessly on my skin
Exploding all around me

As the rain met the ground
A scent lifts into the air
Every breath filling my lungs
With the revolting moisture

And the droplets snake down my face
Penetrating my lips
Filling my mouth slowly
With the abominations from the sky

I try to run
But the rain falls everywhere
Engulfing me in a world of water
As I scream into the rain

Wait

My mom said he'd come back
I waited
She told me he'd realize he was wrong
I waited
She said I was beautiful and he too would realize it someday
I waited
Then I hit the point where I couldn't wait anymore
The pain of watching him look at others, the way his eyes followed everyone
Everyone but me.
That was it,
I'm done waiting
I'm done waiting mom
No more will I put myself through pain to try and wait
I will never be beautiful to him
I will no longer wait

Too lazy to help

There was a man sitting on the bench at a park
He sat there for hours upon hours
And never moved.
He didn't care what happened,
Relaxation was more important to him than helping others.

There was a robber running through the park
A cop yelled to the man,
Asking for help as the robber ran past the bench,
But the man sat there, texting, as the robber sped away.

Another time a mugger was mugging an old lady.
The old lady asked for help,
And the man could help seeing as the mugger was small,
But the man just sat there, listening to music, as the mugger got his way.

At this point it was clear.
It was clear that the man didn't care about helping
There could be something as bad as a robot-alien attack
And the man wouldn't get up.
He was lazy after all,
His laziness was far more important than anything else
He was too lazy to help.

She is forever his He is Forever hers

 Carmalina continually waited

For the day when he would return

When he would see her again   

Hold her again

Be with her again

One day she saw the uniform of an American soldier

She stood up in her fancy full skirt blue dress

From the porch swing

Relief covered her like snow gently falling on a hurting person’s open wounds

Making them sting less

Until she saw a sorrow stricken man holding the letter

The she never saw coming

Grief fell upon her

Se pictured him

Hurt

Bloodied

Dead

He would never see her again

Hold her again

Be with her again

She is forever his

He is forever hers

He is forever gone

What most people don’t realize is how

Much pain comes between the family and soldier when separated

They don’t realize the desperation of being back in his arms

The fright when hearing about Pearl Harbor

The pit in her stomach worrying he will never return

The anxiety of getting a letter from him every week

To picture him coming up the porch steps to

Hug her again for the first time in one year

But all of that is forever lost

For he will never return

For he is a ghost on the battlefield forever

I am the broken hearted ghost sitting on the front porch

Waiting for him

forever

hey guys this is actually RockelleV's poem but im just using georgina's account

Turtles

Every year the turtles swim far through their ocean

Reaching their destination with pride

The females leave their young behind to be born on their own

Hoping a day may come when they reunite in the vast sea like twins separated at birth

The eggs begin to crack and spread apart after two months of resting under the sand

The baby turtles climb out of their eggs and burrow up through the sand

They start their descent down the beach and to the water

Many of the baby turtles will never reach the splashing water

Some by holes in the sand

Some by treacherous humans

Some by skydiving seagulls

Some by the sand pilled above their shells

For the lucky and strong turtles that do make it to the ocean

They swim with no mother to watch them about the vast sea

Only instinct and tell the turtles which direction they should go and when they need to go

Judgement

Do you hear that?
The loud silence of your thought?
Each one of you is judging me.
Judging my clothes,
My hair,
My face,
My attitude.
Judging every little word
Every syllable
That dribbles out of my mouth.
But amidst your judgement,
Do you really care what I have to say?
Do my words really matter to you?
Or am I just another student?
Another canvas for you too paint your thoughts?
Some be kind...
Some be cruel...
But I dont want to be your art.
I dont want to be mended,
Pushed this way and that,
Broken again
And again
And again
Then put back together
As your final masterpiece.
And all this from the silent judgements,
Whispered in the halls.
Not even said,
Just kept in your head.
But thats fine.
Because I do have a voice,
And it will be heard.
You can judge me for my words,
But remember
They are only words.
And they will pass,
Fading in the evening's light.
And tomorrow all that will be left will be
Their shadows
Ever growing with the setting sun.
Impervious to your judgement.

The Different Schools

Some fish,
The bigger,
Stronger ones seem
To take over.
They swim forward
With confidence
Near the top of the ocean,
Near the bright,
Warm and welcoming light.
The smaller,
Weaker fish
Swim near the bottom,
The dark,
Bottomless pit that
Nothing
Can be saved from.
Certain fish of
Different colors and
Unique shapes and sizes
Seem to be favored,
By themselves,
Of course.
But they all have the
Same
Nerves wired to the brain,
The same
Gills to take in oxygen,
And the same
Heart that pounds involuntarily
Every second
Of everyday
Of every year.
And they are all here
For the same intention.
To live.

Finally Belonging

The girl sits alone.
like a princess,
from a far away land.
She day dreams,
thinking no one notices,
but he does.

From far away
they lock gazes,
their eyes searching like a mouse,
creeping around an apartment,
one where he doesn’t belong.
Like the boy,
who doesn’t belong.
Until his red Reeboks hit the pavement
pounding the ground
till he stops
and finally sits down.

Feelings

My cappilaries burst when I see you
And this is not a hyperbole because you can see my bloodshot eyes

Being near you is like being stabbed
And this is not a simile because I have the scars

My brain tells me to get away
And this is not personification because I can hear the voices

These are not examples of figurative language
These are just my feelings towards you

Person of the Piece

A hole in a board,

Or a toddler's clay sculpture.

The auction is endless.

People stuck staring,

Staring at something so perfect,

That is was translucent.

But why did the tallest mark,

Fall on this page?

The most obvious and clear page.

Is the piece of parchment really capturing the eyes?

Or is the name scribbled below it.

Because in another land,

Where an ignored girl,

As quiet as a lamb,

Handed the judge,

The same classic,

He bursted out in a loud laughter.

Ten years ago,

In preschool,

I handed into my art teacher,

Something that looked the same.

The same as the priceless clay blob in the museum,

Or the famous explosion on canvas behind the glass.

Why didn't I get all the credit that Van Gogh got?

Or the fame and fortune?

It's becuase of the person,

Not the creation.

Because of the age,

Not the piece.

Because of the history,

Of each artist, behind their painting.

Each piece of art, reflecting their first,

And admirers that buy for the person behind the piece.

Regret

When the makeup got heavier
When the skirt got shorter
When the tank top got tighter

Regret

When the true friends dissapeared
When the fake friends came along
When the hatred soon began

Regret

When the grades went down
When the sympathy vanished
When she changed in an instant

Regret

Acceptance

As she walks down the beach,
she makes sure not to pick up the plain shells.
As she walks through a meadow,
She makes sure not to pick up the misplaced flowers.
As she walks through the bazaar,
She makes sure not to buy the bruised apple.
As she proceeds through her life,
She makes sure not to look at those who lack perfection.

The Line

Is a line just a line

Or is it more

It can be the border

Of the U.S and Mexico

Or the stock

Going up and down each day

But is a line just a line

or something more.

How You Live

Your work ethic is not given to you
you have to earn it.
You have to have a good work ethic
or you will fail in life.
Your work ethic means the world
because if you don’t work
you don’t make money
you don’t eat
you don’t live
you die

I QUIT

They tell her that
she needs to clean this
or do that

They tell her she is
not good enough
or useless

They tell her that she is
wrong and stupid
or does not do anything their way

Well, all she has to say is
I QUIT!!

Undeserving Dreams

It's the little chirps

That awake me

From my daylong dreams

Which stay in my head

Until once again I reach my bed,

I use my dreams the second I open my
Crusty,

Lazy,

Eyes.

And once I hear the bird's song,

I'm on my way.

Sometime I float upon flowers

As I make my way through the house,

And sometimes I stretch to great lengths,

Higher than Empire State Building,

And I get to run around my own playground

I call Earth.

But then sometimes the bird is no longer singing,

Instead I awake to howls and growls

Of inhumane beasts,

And my dreams terrify my own soul

Because it's piercing with pain

As fire crawls up my legs and arms

Until I'm classified as my own sun,

And there's nothing I can do

Because I cannot control my dreams.

Don't Get Too Close

A moth, in the darkness just a ghost
Invisible, a mystery
Yet attracting no one's attention.
A dull light from the dimness
Seems to have a magnetic force
The faint glow creeping into the dark,
An attraction to just one bug, then another, and another,
And then to the moth.

The warmth radiating from the glowing body illuminating the darkness,
Is fenced in by admirers
Simultaneously it feeds on the same oxygen,
As every other invisible creature, including the moth
Not worthy of examination, or even scrutiny
Yet they cannot help, but hope.

With each bat of its wings,
The force between the moth and the fire grows stronger
Now, just inches from the burning fingers dancing in the dark.
And at last, the moth is close enough to the fascination,
Near enough to be glorified by the light shed upon it.
Just then however, a finger of the flame reaches out,
And suffocates it.

Alone

A flower stands alone,
But in the distance stands a sea of dandelions.
The flower ponders what it would be like among the others.
If there would be more sunlight and cool breezes,
or if it would be darker and damper.
The flower then stopped wishing and wondering what it would be like
And realized that by itself it got the most sunlight,
All of the cool breezes to itself and all of the happiness it could want,
All alone.

What Can Money Buy?

There is that saying that money can’t buy happiness,

Everyone always says that its true,

But I’m not so sure I believe it.

Money is well everywhere today,

And without it you can’t get very far.

And if you go by the saying than you would agree with the fact that those new ipads and complex cell phones that everyone can’t wait to get there hands on would not bring happiness.

That those new shiny cars and fancy clothes would not bring happiness,

And those mansions over looking sandy shores wouldn’t bring happiness either.

If I had the chance to buy a new apple computer that could play a youtube video without skipping every other frame,

looking like someone is cutting up the picture,

I would think I would be much happier,

But no, money can’t buy happiness.

I would love to go to Hawaii and lay in the white sand beneath the sun,

staring at the crystal clear water,

but I still would not get happiness from that,

because I’d have to pay.

If I could go shopping and pick out as much,

and whatever I want without having to put back that adorable shirt thats way too expensive, I still wouldn’t be happy

because I’d have to buy each and every thing I pick out.

To me a life of vacations and new things sounds nice.

But new things and vacations and almost everything else in life involves

or requires money.

So that would not be happiness.

How come people who don’t have money wish for it then?

If it can’t buy happiness than what is it good for?

I mean, happiness is the most important thing in life, right?

I suppose life could be happy without money,

But how can life with money be unhappy?

I am what i am

I am smart.
Dont tell me im stupid, i know how i score on tests.
I know how much i study, and how much i dont.
I know i can make it.
I am loud.
I yell.
At you, at him.
Dont tell me to be quiet.
I know i cant do that.
I am serious.
Dont play games with me.
I know how to get you back.
I know the tricks and turns of every game in the book.
I know i will win.
I am mean.
Dont roll your eyes at me.
Dont get under my skin.
Dont talk about me behind my back.
Im right here, say it to this face of mine.
The face people wont stop talking about,
Good or bad.
I am who i am.
Like it or not,
I never will care.

Just A Paper In The Wind

The wind gusts.
Lifting the vibrant white
Piece of paper off the cold, concrete ground.

It twists and it turns.
Only hitting the ground
When the winds needs to take a breather.

Everyday, the paper ends up in a new place.
It does not have a permanent home.
Everyday, the paper is unhappy with where it is.

One day, the wind is stronger than usual.
The paper is thrown up into the air,
Higher and higher as the wind gusts.

After a few hours, with a final gust,
The paper slowly starts to make its way down.
It finally reaches the safe surface.

It is met the the warm, inviting blue
That is the ocean.
It calmly sways the paper along.

The paper sighs with relief.
It has found a home,
Where it is wanted.

The Bucket and the Match

Dark, dry pieces of wood lay piled together
Along with a match
And a gray-green tinted bucket



One person lights the match
With a swipe
And then a burst of orange emerges
The burst of orange spreads
With yellow and red sparks
Like a mini firework show on Independence Day
Creating warmth, color, and a calming crackle



Another person fills the bucket
With a twist of a grimy faucet
And then dirty, dull water emerges
The dirty, dull water spreads
Yellow, orange, red sparks disappearing
Like a spirit mysteriously floating in the night
Creating chills, darkness, and silence

Sweet Dreams

The Monster came at night,

When everyone slept

And took their hopes, dreams, and desires

And it left them in despair and

With nothing to live for,

They locked themselves away,

From love, from hate, and from everything in between,

And faded into the background.

When everything was returned to them,

When the Monster was caught,

They didn't know what to do

How to think, how to act, how to live

And forgot how to care.

They stayed asleep.

The World As We See It

Pawns, rooks, kings,
The poor, middle, and rich,
Three different society types,
Trying to come together,
Now how the hell will that work?
Kings give no sympathy to the pawns,
Even if the pawns just one the game,
But why would they?
The underdog, the little guy, the fat man, the short,
The bald, the bullied, the person to pick on,
Day by day, night by night, week by week,
The king WILL rule the world.
Oh wait, I forgot a piece.
The rooks, your fakers
Your backstabbers,
Your two facers,
Who stab you in the back, even if you turn your back for one second.
I suffer,
The pawns suffer,
The world suffers.
It looks more disgusting than crunching on a cockroach.
Pawns, rooks, kings is the world today,
But I always wonder,
Which one am I?

The Court

The court is where amazing happens,

A player throws the ball up,

And lands in his teammates hand,

So he throws it through the net…

BOOM! An explosion happens,

It starts an earthquake,

It starts amazing.

A player shoots the ball,

But the opposing player follows him,

Waiting for his moment to pounce,

And when he does,

He swats the ball like it’s a fly,

It starts a roar throughout the stands,

It starts amazing.

On the court,

Good and bad things happen,

But that’s not the point,

The point of the court,

Is there is always something amazing happening.

Too Fast

On the train of life’s remorse
Speeding down the slippery rails
It slips, it slides, it nearly crashes
He looks out at the passing cities
He stares at the empty sky
He knows he would be happy there
He would start a life of freedom
The train won’t stop; another opportunity passed
Disordain and sally forth
A new town in this game we play
Decisions to make he makes the rashest
He looks about at what he has done
Now he bares the pain of death
He can’t go until the train stops
He could end a life of running
The train has stopped an opportunity awaits.

The Creations Betrayal

The Creations Betrayal

The Monster

Grey yet turning clear

Coming from those monstrosities of machines

Shining bright

When they pass the green life

In witch they stab in the back

Taking there oxygen

And turning it into a hole as big as a creator created by an artillery shell

Yet the green life who created these machines

Are yet trapped in this green house.

This is What I am

I am the thing that come at the end of the school year,
at the end of my time is school work and tests,
I am the time for pool parties,cookouts, and vacations,
I am the reason for the start of the holidays called memorial day, independence day, and labor day,
I can bring long droughts, tornado, or a nice warm sunny do nothing day,
I would be lost for seven months until the time of graduations,
I am coming up in the next few days,
who am I?

Smile

Somtimes a simple smile

Can make a friend

Open a door

Or brighten someone's mood

Like the morning sun

Over the horizon

Setting a glow to the new day

Somtimes a simple smile

Is all we need

All we want

And it will help us

Everyday, for the rest of our lives

Sometimes a simple smile

Can be quite contagoius

And the joy it brings

Is not a destination

But a way of life

(Sorry to whoever is reading this. I didn't put in the obnoxious spacing.)

Buried Within The Walls

Buried deep inside memories,

they wait beside themselves,

Just to be rediscovered.

No one knows where they are,

or who chose to put them there.

The past is ripped open,

and the light floods back,

but still no one can see what’s broken

or what the truth really is.

Cherished Sea Glass

So small, yet so intricate.

Smoothed by the oceans waves

and washed up on shore.

Hidden by sand and shells.

But when hit by the sun, it shines like a diamond

Picked up by many,

dropped by few

Collected in glass vases

and made into jewelry

Something started by littering

made into something cherished and beautiful.

Regretting the Warmth

Over their petals the light falls,

Warming them inside and out.

Their colors create a rainbow

Of reds pinks and yellows

Like a swarm of bees,

The clouds roll in,

Covering their delicate petals,

With tears of sorrow and regret.