The night is bitter and static,
The calm and crisp chirping of crickets breaks the silence,
My cold breath hides in the darkness,
Surrounded by the sharp crackling of branches.
I slip through the night,
Sensing multiple eyes on me,
I quickly move along,
Only looking straight,
I do not know what will come,
Because night is full of intense shocks.
The sun destroys the night,
And the night destroys the day,
A never-ending cycle,
Both with their own surprises.
I see a shadow darker than the night,
Remaining still in the silence,
I return home full of fear,
Knowing that I’m safe.
The next morning the birds sang in the gleaming sunshine,
Each with their own harmonious melody,
All together creating an elegant song like a symphony,
One just as important as the other.
Together they create,
Alone they destroy.
The night and day cannot coincide,
The day creates the night,
And the night destroys the day,
Each necessary for their own existence.
The winter weather wears my skin,
Its bitter bite exhausts me
All life is strained by its pull,
A chandelier on the ceiling
Beautiful,
serene but heavy,
Impractical and…
Unnecessary
It pulls us down,
in strength
And in spirit
But I am lucky, for my plight is temporary
The trees must endure, but I am exempt, for I have shelter
Inside the soup filling the rooms with the scent of a salty yet savory aroma
The soup bubbles in its pot, causing the contents to dance and bounce
The fire crackles underneath the metal of the pot, turning its bottom golden
The heat releases the weight of the cold cruel air that had brought burden on me And the stew will bring back what the mischievous air had stolen from me
My home frees me, its walls ward off the wandering winter wind
So generous, the apple tree,
Giving up your prized possessions.
We take them all like stolen children.
Fall. Pick your own.
Thousands of apples growing from your arms.
Climbing, hanging, pulling, picking, eating,
Sometimes just one bite.
Clunk. Another tossed to the ground.
Discarded jewels, breaking your heart.
We are so judgmental, always critiquing your work;
Too tart, not crisp, nor perfectly symmetrical.
Yet you are so forgiving,
Creating gems again and again.
Every September.
This caged bird knows little of a free life,
Will never feel the touch of a branch,
Will never see the sun set past the trees that should be its home.
Her green, red, and blue feathers vibrant under the light,
But forgotten,
Perched for an eternity,
Longing for a world she knows nothing of,
The swaying of her swing mimics the air that should rush through her wings,
She remains prisoner, held for amusement.
Her only friend… her own reflection,
But the mirror doesn’t speak,
Or sing the tunes of the wild,
So she calls out,
Hopelessly,
Waiting for some sort of response,
But the room remains silent
Up a winding road
with the ocean
at your back.
no sign
of any town.
But,
next to a seven-eleven
there is
an alleyway,
only three people wide.
This tunnel
takes you away
To a secret maze, hidden
From the outside world.
Small streets lined
With shops,
Twisting and turning
Along the side
Of a mountain.
Like a tangled up wire.
Not a car to be seen
Only rivers of people
Rushing through every street.
When the day is over,
The town transforms.
A ceiling
Of lanterns light up,
Strung over every street
Glowing, bright in the night.
Around the corner,
There’s a place
Streetlights don’t shine,
The cars won’t turn,
And the house lights stay off.
Walking around the corner alone,
You can hear nothing
But your own footsteps,
Or someone else’s.
It’s peaceful. Looking behind you
Every sound that you hear.
But you are alone.
You can see nothing
But the darkness ahead of you,
And that, over there,
Behind that tree.
The tree that curves up so strangely.
And we keep walking,
Glancing every now and then,
But there can’t possibly be anything else
Around the corner.
Outside my childhood home
Is my backyard
That is full of memories
filled with Imagination,
Wonder.
In my backyard we could be anything,
Go anywhere.
It could be a kickball stadium,
A jungle,
Secret spy headquarters.
Anything we dreamed of
It was.
Every evening
Before it grew dark,
We would start a new journey
Of wonder.
Until The street lights
Turned on
And our parents
Called us home.
And we slowly transitioned back
To reality
Waiting to see where
Our imagination could take us next.
I ask them what a colony is.,
Interrogating them as to why we are kept here.
All data collected calculates as “SAFE”.
We know we can go outside
They reply with “we must follow our orders,
It’s safer here.”
That’s their only answer.
“It’s protocol, you will understand one day,.”
They add in their computerized voices
We want to go outside.,
I want to meet whoever is out there.,
I want to see what’s out there!
So far we only know the pictures.
Those vivid, living pictures,
From this living thing called Earth.
We’re sick of these metal plastic walls
I’m tired of the same holograms
They can’t keep this up,
Locking us up from the real world.
Let us go outside,
Or we will go outside.
I intend to learn
The wonders of science and math, Literature and history,
All subjects, narrow and vast.
I would dabble in languages,
Exploring cultures and equations,
Of past, present, and future,
For knowledge’s sake alone.
I yearn for understanding,
For comprehension,
For a feeling of importance,
For the ability to survive in the world
On my own.
But alas I am forced
To compete with friends
For an arbitrary grade,
A grade that determines futures.
They make me lose determination,
Lose hope,
Lose sleep,
Just to play in The Game.
Research and research.
Over and over:
This is not ordinary
fun. Nor the way
one typically spends
their summer
Store after store the Buildings
of Ann Arbor were like no other.
Long, skinny, and gray they all were
the same to me.
Morning, afternoon, evening
over and over:
lab after lab, the journey
repeats….. for another four weeks
Ding ding, evening lab
is OVER
I’ve gotten all my groceries
but all of a sudden………
ROOOOOOM CHECK!…. The message circulates
and the race to the dorm starts
I sprint, but appear to have arrived in the same location
over and over:
I’m going in circles!
Eventually I spot the
mess of my dorm.
I check may watch yet again
its passed 10:00
the instructors examine me
in a skeptical manner, as I am late
AGAIN
expecting an every day scolding from my lab leader
Over and over:
morning, afternoon, evening
lab after lab……………. the journey repeats
for another four weeks!