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Instructor: Mindy Baker mbaker@branford.k12.ct.us
“The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say.”
-Anais Nin
17
ReplyDeleteIt’s another Friday night, nothing to do
Drive around, call up the homies, see what they’re up to
Sometimes we get a hint, an inside tip
“who’s parents? Out on a business trip?”
“word, we’ll be there in a bit”
Cause all we wanna do is, “Party and Bullshit”
Stained Glass
ReplyDeleteThirteen was the poetic (prophetic) number.
This was the end of childhood
I thought standing before a stained glass window in the quiet, sleep-inducing confines of my church. The Virgin Mary watched my inner turmoil with a trained and ever-compassionate eye.
This was it, I knew. I wasn’t a child anymore, I knew. I was a blue-blooded American teenager, full of sweat, blood, and tears. I felt empty and cold. My childhood had gone, passed me by, and I was left standing on the side of the road with a confused look engraved upon my face. I wasn’t innocent anymore. I could sin (mea culpa) and be held responsible for my actions.
Thirteen.
Childhood seemed so petty and naïve, looking back from that moment of realization. It was a false epiphany, though. I found it humorous that I once placed so great a responsibility in a number. Thirteen was nothing, you see, in the face of a lifetime of years.
I’m now eighteen and terrified of growing up.
preconception
ReplyDeleteI am alone.
Others around me
swimming and laughing
I am alone in my thoughts
We are startled by a sound
A pull and we are on our way.
Twists and turns in the tunnel
And we are free.
Dead space around us
To our goal we go
We do it alone
I am alone
Our destination is far
Not all make it.
Our goal is near
I am near it alone
I push myself against the barrier
I am alone in my efforts
But I make it
My struggle is not over
For nine months I am trapped
Walls all around
I am alone
A tunnel appears
I am pulled into the light
I am surrounded
They hold me, love me
I am not alone anymore
I’m 23
ReplyDeleteI have
No money
&
No job
I have a master’s degree
Five years of top-notch, overpaid for schooling
And, I’m moving back home.
Back to my old routine
Nostalgic smells fill the room
The posters and paintings hung on my wall, once represented something to me
I can’t really remember what that was, now.
This was a place I spent hours upon hours dreaming of what I’ve always wanted to be
Independent
But being this comes at a price
One I forgot to calculate into the loan interest rates and tuition costs
This cost beats them all
I’m back to where I started
It seems my pallet tasted independence for but a brief moment.
So here I am
ReplyDeleteStarting fresh
Starting new,
A world of opportunity
Waiting at my dorm steps.
What will this be like?
What will life be like?
There’s no one around to guide me
No one to tell me what to do,
I’m finally an adult now,
Freedom, with no one on my back.
Will I make this right?
Can I make this right?
Eighteen years are now here,
The big party, with the large gift
Supposedly unknown to me,
What will they see of me?
Will I act surprised?
Can I act surprised?
Over a year has passed
Since I saw your lovely face,
But now I’m here,
And you’re no longer there,
Reunited at last.
Can we make this last?
Will we make this last?
Coming out of the clouds
Back into reality,
Not quite eighteen,
Yet less than two years
And I’ll be there.
What will this be like?
What will life be like?
Eighteen
ReplyDeleteI am eighteen
With EVERYTHING on my mind!!
I have college applications,
Schoolwork,
Parents,
Sibling rivalries,
Friends
And Senior Ex.
Prom is the last thing on my mind
You name it!
I got it.
Everybody needs something from me and I just don’t know what to do.
Dad is pressuring me,
I hate it when he does.
Mom is screaming at me for God knows what.
Why do my brothers have to come home from school EVERY weekend?
Why can’t they just leave me alone?
My boyfriend is mad at me,
There’s something new.
I have to crochet all these scarves by today
Oh shoot, I forgot I have a Physics test. Oh YAY!
School work has to be done
I’m always fighting with my parents
Nothing goes my way,
I’m always stressed out
Driving is always a pain, but I make it through
When I go to college I will pursue my dreams
Of being who I wanna be
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteI wanted to be Peter Pan,
ReplyDeleteAnd fly to Neverland,
Where I could just stay twelve forever,
The perfect age,
Of freedom,
Of summers,
Of piles of books,
Of sledding and snow angels,
Of sand in my hair,
Of being sexless,
Because that didn’t matter yet.
I could do stupid things,
And no one would mock me,
I could learn something new,
And not be embarrassed,
I could waste away in the sun,
And not worry about melanoma,
Because I was just a child,
And that didn’t matter yet
Now, I cannot allow myself to be mocked,
Now, I am afraid to learn something new,
Afraid that my stumbling will be made fun of,
Now, I have scars,
Because the sun has burned me,
So I hide away,
And that didn’t matter yet.
When I turn thirteen,
Another year upon my head,
A teenager,
And everything will be different,
And it will matter now.
I do not want the magic,
To slowly leak away,
To leave my vision,
To leave my eyes,
So I hold on,
Grasp,
As my fingers are slowly pried away,
Every day I watch it drain,
Drip be drip,
And there is nothing I can do,
For these things I learn are taking its place,
So I tighten my grip,
Because I cannot sit back and watch,
And thirteen,
Was the marker,
When everything mattered.
Sixteen
ReplyDeleteWe are going somewhere but I do not know where we’re going. We get in his car and roll down the windows. He takes a drag off a camel cigarette, breathing in and out, as the smoke runs with little legs to his lungs. Breathing out, the smoke crystallizes, almost freezing in mid air it’s so cold outside. We were driving so fast we made the trees move I swear. I saw the outside world past so fast like short glimpses of only blurs, trying to make out what was around me. We pull into the Walgreens I used to know so well when I lived here. I have not been here in years, and I never thought I would be here like this. He nonchalantly walks into the store, dragging his feet in his own particular rhythm through the carpeted rows. He grabs five things, stuffing them in his pockets, and begins to walk out. We follow him like obedient shadows, not stopping him, not talking to him, walking in silence and sharing the glory of doing something wrong. It was like he did it just to do it. He didn’t need any of those things. Going against the written law was like an alluring disease everyone was dying to catch.
So we laughed and we drove, laughed and drove through winding roads in the bleak, dark night. It was then I realized that none of us knew where we were going but it was all okay; we would end up where we were meant to, and we would end up there together. Now we are headed home, and the feeling of being lost starts to fade. I felt better when we were lost. I think we all did.
He pulls into the newly paved driveway, probably leaving marks that will be there for eternity when the tires screech to a halt. It is funny how sometimes a few hours can seem like a lifetime, but other times like a second. This was somewhere in between forever and a second. So we step out of the car and say our goodbyes as we solemnly walk with heavy steps into her living room to greet her parents. They ask us where we have been, we reply, “getting ice cream,” because lying just makes the whole thing so much better. And it’s funny how they believe us because it seems like we’re always getting ice cream, every weekend, and it’s freezing outside. I told you, it’s all funny.
I want to appear perfect but no one is perfect, and I know this, but I still want to be. I know no one is supposed to be perfect, they are not expected to be, but I can’t part with the idea that I’m supposed to be something better than this. After these car rides I always sit in silence, wondering how I can go from feeling so infinite to so empty in only a few hours.
Eighty Four- By Ryan V
ReplyDeleteToday is the day when I turn eighty four.
Still surprised I survived the war.
Life on the line, running like hell.
But on the past I don’t like to dwell.
I’m telling you this because it is still here.
The war and propaganda conjuring up fear.
I remember the day I turned eighteen.
Went to the enlisting station and joined the army.
We didn’t have any experience.
We only knew how to pledge allegiance.
Our planes flew over many different countries.
Killed, captured, and fought our enemies.
Yet the war is still in effect; my grandkids are there.
Ignorance is bliss; but no one seems to care.