Friday, May 26, 2017

"Love Poem" by Luna

Falling in love,
Losing control now
Struggling to gain control back
You’re feeling all of these new emotions
Feelings you aren't really used to
You worry about letting yourself fall completely
But curiosity pushes you towards this person
You were always that independent girl who hated the thought of a relationship
Things are changing for you

Questions and concerns flutter around your head
“Don’t get attached”
“Don’t rely on someone who could leave at any moment”
“What if he isn’t who he has been this whole time?”
“What if he breaks my heart?”
These concerns are paralyzing

It’s everything about him
From his dreamy eyes and stunning smile
His gentlemen like personality that makes you blush
His funny personality
The way he is able to completely change your mood
Everything.

Soon you come to terms with the idea of falling for someone
You see how this could work out
You see how much you have in common
And it all makes sense now

Acceptance
The ability to be you,

And let yourself fall.

"Prisoner in the Palace" by Holly Jo McClelland

What was it like?
Your life, of course
Constantly clamoring for attention
With everything you did

Was it an adventure?
Filled with heart-shattering moments
But not without a few pretty ones
To balance them out

You were the princess
Girls and women fought over your crown
Did you fall in love with the cameras?
Is that why you never hid?

Is that why you never backed down?

The world put you on a pedestal
Threw flowers when they greeted you and burst into song
But you were a prisoner in the palace
You were convinced you didn’t belong

Tell me everything about
Those whirlwind thirty days
What went down?
Was it even real?

Were the Mediterrean cruises
Dresses and yacht parties
Champagne and diamond rings
Really all that?

Or was it all for show?
Did you really love him?
Was it for the people?
Or was it your way to heal?

To give them something to look at?

The world put you on a pedestal
Threw flowers when they greeted you and burst into song
But you were a prisoner in the palace
So you found a place where you’d belong
Let’s talk about that night
That Paris soiree
Your last one here
Was it bliss?
Or was it misery?
Did it make you want to disappear?

The world put you on a pedestal
Threw flowers when they greeted you and burst into song
But you were a prisoner in the palace

Where, if at all, did you ever belong?

Friday, May 19, 2017

"My Heart Is Like a Wooden Boat" by Iris & Anton

My heart is like a wooden boat.
You have to seal it sure and near
Keep water out to stay afloat
Or else you'll find me sinking here.

My heart is like a wooden boat.
If you're too rough you'll get splinters
So float me gently, pull me close
And let me freeze during the winter.

My heart is like a wooden boat.
There are better built boats out there
However,
mine is quaint and sweet and true

And I'll let you float on me forever.

"Glass Floor" by Kelly Shepherd

It’s never enough.
Walking on a glass floor that is cracking
The cracks are spreading
Spreading like the pain

Each crack that grows,
Each break in the glass,
Makes everything unstable.
Everything unsure.

The floor gets weaker,
Each footstep as though it was a
Sledgehammer,
Hitting the floor with tremendous force
Forceful every step of the way

The cracks are growing
The tension is building
Every step closer to the absolute break.

The shards are falling
Just keep pretending
Tiptoe along the cracks
Try to fix the holes.

Glass is so clear.
So perfect when it is new
Unstained,
Unbroken,
Perfect.

Cover the cracks,
Hide the pain,
They can’t see.
They can’t know.

Convince yourself that the stabbing pain
The stabbing pain that consumes your every thought
Is just a bunch of nonsense
It’s all in your head

But your head is getting tired

The stabbing pain of the glass slipping,
And the way your mind keeps gripping
Onto the unrealistic expectations
That you have for yourself

You say that it is nothing
You say that the glass is still new
That the glass isn’t a mess
That you aren’t a mess

The glass is shards away from falling down
The footsteps increase in strength,
Your mind becomes exhausted.
Your band aids didn’t work and now they know.

They know you aren’t perfect.
They say it’s okay,
But you just see the pity.
It hurts worse than the glass.

The floor falls through,
And down you go,
You try to grab onto the ledges on the way down
But it’s just more slippery glass.

Falling, falling down.
The glass slide is no help.
You see the end.
You see the pile of glass waiting for you.

Waiting at the bottom is the taunting glass shards
They spell out your worst fear
“You aren’t enough,
You’ve never been enough.”

Trying desperately to escape,
You look through the glass,
You see the faces of the ones you love.
You see the faces of the ones who love you.

You see your strong, beautiful mom
In tears.
She whispers through the pain,
“You promised.”

Suddenly you are snapped back to the present.
Your mom crying,
She sees your pain,
You caused her her pain.

You see in her eyes that she knows.
She knows what you were about to do,
She sees the glass in your hands,
And just like the glass, she breaks.



Friday, May 12, 2017

"Chicken" by Smurph

“Chicken” they call me
I stutter in shame
Just “chicken” they call me
But never my name
My cowardice now
My identity forms--
I cannot live up to
Societal norms.
Perhaps someday I
Will be epic and brave
I’ll puff up my huge chest
And a maiden I’ll save.
I’ll defy all their doubts
With my wonderful deeds
Celebrations will rise
And we’ll all feast on feed.
Won’t that day just be
A great confidence booster--
It’s sad to be “chicken”

When you are a rooster.

"ReEXAMination" by Egdelwonk

In relaxation I lay, in complete silence, reviewing numerous lessons and subjects. I anxiously anticipate the gut wrenching, heartbreaking, and excruciating exam that lie ahead. Despite my calm demeanor and positive attitude, I am unthinkably nervous. One exam, lasting less than 24 hours, defining the knowledge I have consumed over a time period of an entire school year. Many doubt themselves, questioning the extent to which they appropriately and accurately consumed the vast knowledge spewing from their textbooks and teachers.

I prefer to put the exam in perspective, in a desperate attempt to alleviate the sometimes immense pressure. If, for a saddening reason, I fail the exam, will my future crumble and shatter into millions of pieces? No. I recommend viewing each exam in its temporary nature. However, you must prepare yourself to the best of your abilities. You must remain confident in yourself  following your best attempt to study the material you have been given. After giving your best in preparation, the rest is history. Whether you receive a stellar or shocking score will not define you as a human being. What defines you is how you adjust to your mistakes and build upon your successes. Questioning and improving upon weak scores displays strong character and the understanding that not all aspects of your life will go your way. Additionally, celebrating your successes only temporarily, and moving forward with a hard working mindset, is an important skill to attain in the development of a well rounded character. Thus, the build up and preparation for a test develops many strong qualities including self motivation, determination, and perseverance.

Many great test takers display their strongest characteristics before even writing their name on their test. However, after long studying sessions, the test must be taken. But don't panic. Taking a test requires a mindset. The acknowledgment of the reality that both failure and perfection are possibilities is vital. Many disregard the thought of failing an important exam and downplay its importance while others never give themselves a chance to succeed.


Promise yourself  that no matter what happens, before you submit your exam, that you have tried your best. After the completion of the exam, breathe. Leave it in the past. Think of the many possibilities the future has to offer you and fill your day with positivity. Tests and exams come and go. But life goes on. So, use tests in a positive light. Allow them to introduce you to both failure and success. Allow them to assist you in your growth in your preparation for many life tasks. Finally, allow them to reaffirm the bright and prosperous future that lies ahead.

Thursday, May 4, 2017

"When I Was Younger" by Iris & Anton

When I was younger,
My curfew was the lightning bugs
My showers were from the sky
And the only ones who talked behind my back were the butterflies.

When I was younger,
My food was the earth
My toys were the dirt
And the only traces of where I had been were muddy footprints.

When I was younger,
My bed was the riverbed
My nightlight was the moon
And the only time I had to run away was when I chose to.

But now I am older,
And my curfew is a digital number on a screen
My showers are cold and in perfectly timed intervals
And everybody is too happy with their own lives to talk behind my back about mine

Now I am older
My food is processed and fake
My toys are gadgets and alternate realities
And the traces of where I have been can be tracked by any cell tower in the county.

Now I am older
My bed is the cheapest air mattress that I can afford
My nightlight is 60 watts
And now, running away is the only way I can think of to get home.

When I was younger,
My curfew was the lightning bugs
My showers were from the sky
And the only ones who talked behind my back were the butterflies.

But now I am older,
And my curfew is a digital number on a screen
My showers are cold and in perfectly timed intervals
And everybody is too happy with their own lives to talk behind my back about mine

When I was younger,
My food was the earth
My toys were the dirt
And the only traces of where I had been were muddy footprints.

Now I am older
My food is processed and fake
My toys are gadgets and alternate realities
And the traces of where I have been can be tracked by any cell tower in the county.

When I was younger,
My bed was the riverbed
My nightlight was the moon
And the only time I had to run away was when I chose to.

Now I am older
My bed is the cheapest air mattress that I can afford
My nightlight is 60 watts
And now, running away is the only way I can think of to get home.


"Three Strikes, You're Out (of Loves)" by Jinxx Clark

We should fall in love three times. I went through these loves in the blink of an eye-- and I remember the details of every one. The thing is, our first love happens once, and our third love happens once, but the second one is tricky. The second one can repeat a million times over, and each time you'll say it’s different. It never is.

I was lucky, however. I really only fell in love three times.

The first love is the real zinger. It’s your idealistic love; your fairytale. It feels like a dream. At the time it feels like the only love you'll ever have. You intended for it to happen, you go into it with so much energy and passion, and you can't imagine it ever ending. The first love taste like cotton candy. It is light and sweet. It melts. It coats your tongue and stays there. This is the true heartbreak-love. Because when that cotton candy is gone you are like a four-year-old all over again, you just cry for more. It isn't coming back, sadly. You'll sob. You'll want to break down, but you'll get up. You'll understand that while cotton candy is delicious, you can't survive off of it. You can't eat it forever.

The second love is complicated, it’s the hard love. You learn from it. You realize who you are, what you need and want, but that lesson doesn't come easy. This love is like a splinter. It usually starts when you just want to feel like you belong somewhere again, when you were sad and you thought love could fix you. When you first look at this love, its a polished wood countertop. It could never hurt you, it will do anything for you. Truth is, it won't. It hurts you in ways you don't see. This love is selfish, from both sides. You see this smooth, perfect surface, and you use it to put your plates on, and stack your books. The thing is nobody's perfect, no one is polished. There are rough spots and broken off edges. You can't fix people the way you fix countertops. People are more like bones, they have to heal. Oh, you'll try to fix them, though. That's when you get the splinter. That's when you get stuck. It hurts so bad but you can't just pull it out. This love is sometimes toxic. Sometimes you feel like you drank the wood flavored polisher. In your defense, the polisher smelt like orange juice.

The final love is the one that matters. This is the love that you least expected, and it’s the love that stays with you. It’s the love that's right. Usually, we start out not wanting this love. It’s someone we find annoying, or, as in my case, someone you thought hated you. This is the love where you remember the childhood saying don't judge a book by its cover. Because once you open up those pages, you can never unread them. This is the love that accepts you, understands you, that you never could've imagined. This love almost doesn't feel real. It is sweet but salty, like dark chocolate covered pretzels. It’s warm too, and it fills your chest with a feeling you can't explain. It’s taking that first sip of coffee on a chilly morning, you feel it run through you. You may have your disagreements in this type of love, but it never hurts the way the second love does; you may have a world of sweetness, but you can allow yourself to breathe and you cherish it in a way you just weren't capable of doing yet with the first love. The third love is true love. It can't be fully described or explained, but you'll know when you’ve found it. You'll recognize the taste, you'll drown in the smell, you'll be filled up by the sound, you'll be comforted by the touch, and you will struggle to tear your eyes away. It’s the love that once you sleep surrounded by its smell, and its feel, and its sound you'll hate sleeping without it again. You can, but you hate too. It’s the love that inspires you. It is the best feeling in the world.

So, if you find yourself heartbroken after the first love, or stuck in the vicious cycle of the second, know that you will reach the third. It can take a lifetime to go through these loves, or it could simply take years. Some people don't fall in love all three times. Some experience their first love and stay with them until the day they can't anymore. A lot of people think these are the “lucky ones”. I don't agree with that.

Others, well… Others aren't ready for love. The thing is love is always ready for us. Love will take us through these different stages, it will stay with us. It doesn't choose where we go, but it helps. That's what's so great about finding the third love. You end up with someone that sends you over the top. You're a full dinner, but with them you gain a surprise desert. Your heart goes from full, to fuller.


At the end of the day, you can stop or start at any stage of love. At the end of the day, the key to love is patience. Don't go searching. The harder you look for something the harder is to find. You'll learn that after your first and second loves. If you believe any of this now, well, that’s all up to you.

"Ivy League School" by Monica Cody

When I was a young child, I knew that I wanted to go to Harvard. To study what, I don’t know. I barely knew what Harvard was, other than th...