Category: lhs-poems-2019

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Amy Finkelman // BEFORE YOU WERE BORN

Before you were born, you were the thought of fear about the future. Before you were born, you were a
mistake, an accident, and now a problem. Before you were born, your parents were working on a farm,
picking vegetables, and growing rice. You were living on a farm, hours outside of the city, up on a
mountain, in a tiny village. Before you were born, your parents worried about providing food for
themselves. You were a pea-sized fetus, undernourished, and under-developed growing each day.
Before you were born, you were the joy that brought a smile to your mother’s face, but tears, to your
fathers eyes. Before you were born, you were the fear of not getting the future you deserve. You were the
thought that your parents could not provide a life for you. Before you were born, you were the thought that
living somewhere else, becoming a new person, and having new parents would be the best option. The
only option.

Joy Gong // THE CAMPGROUND

Pitter patter,
Pitter patter:
The soft tap of rain down the car windows
Accompanies this sticky summer Saturday of June.
Soon Mom turns left off of Cedar Street and
Pulls into a clearing enveloped by pine trees,
Five, ten miles from the nearest supermarket.
A site so secluded even the GPS
Can’t seem to find it;
A place almost abandoned with
Soiled showers and murmuring mosquitoes;
A sector hidden from plain sight
Silent because we are the only ones there.
But our annual trip still
Sparks joy in my mind,
A thrill of adventure down my spine.
As night creeps into the open ceiling and
Paints the sky a deep sapphire blue,
Stars twinkle like tiny diamonds;
Telling stories in the blank canvas of the dark
As we tell stories of our own around a crackling fire.
Knowing the trip will be over too soon, too early
We gently toast marshmallows until just barely charred,
Savoring the sweet essence of simply being.

Matteo Arshad // PEAKS ISLAND

A strip of powdery sediment on the Northern side,
Where the bay’s gentle waves are embraced;
A barricade of rocks along the Southern,
The relentless Atlantic, pounding, pounding.

Children skipping, buckets clanking,
Rushing to the sandy shore.

Colorful crystals clinking in the pockets of collectors,
Their edges softened by the swirling sea and sand;
Younger children clustering around collapsing sand palaces,
Others out splashing in the shimmering waters.

Parents packing, children slumping,
Trekking back to the comforting cottage.

The shore quiets,
Lapping waves fill the silence;
The day’s final light casts its glow,
Painting the sky a warm peachy pink.

An oasis in a vast expanse of blue.

Leanna Bai // ODE TO MY PIANO

I know that expressing my gratitude
is quite overdue.
You’ve been with me
before I knew what it means to live
completely and utterly passionately—
No.
You taught me.

You’ve been patient all this time
when I’d smashed your bright, shiny keys in frustration
when I’d played too hard and ripped the delicate plastic coverings
of your bright, shiny keys.
You’ve felt warm teardrops
drip onto the surface of your bright, shiny keys.

Even so,
as my fingers prance left and right
you give soul to the universe
and tell untellable stories.
When your voice is heard,
the mind explodes with a myriad of colors.

I know that I’ve worn you out all these years,
and I have to say your bench is quite uncomfortable
but I will not trade the bright, shiny keys
that taught me what it means to live.

Reed Solomon // THE WOODS

The wind whispers on the leaves turned brown,
It’s in these woods that time slows down.
The satisfying snap of twigs underfoot,
Getting tired, the hikers decide to stay put.

As the sun sets and the temperature drops,
The conversation between the squirrels stops.
Meals are pulled out of bags and water begins to boil,
The boys sit down on logs, rocks, and soil.
Elsewhere in the world, the night has just begun,
But here the hikers get ready for bed, thinking of tomorrow’s fun.
Clothes are changed, teeth are brushed, and tents zipped up,
In the morning, we’ll eat oatmeal out of the packet, no cup!

All of a sudden, the world outside the tent is light,
The boys rub their eyes as the birds resume their fight.
In a matter of minutes, bags become fully packed,
Today will be the best day yet, that is a sure fact!
“Listen to nature,” and the boys halt their talk,
They set forth on their journey, and begin to walk.

Jack Man // PERFECT DOESN’T ALWAYS WORK

This is the tragic story of finding the right person at the wrong time.
Like any young love, their love was strong
and like any young love, their timing was wrong.
They weren’t ready.
And love,
love decided that they didn’t belong.
They were too scared of letting go.
Too scared to admit they wasted their time.
Hoping nostalgia would bring them back,
reminiscing only made their dreams turn black.
When they tried moving forward
with their heads turned back
this twisted logic hurt them.
It hurt them so bad.
While time walked ahead,
they stayed behind to watch whatever was left.
Watching it crackle, burn out,
and turn to smoke.

Both of them were too scarred to shine for a second time
for this is the story of finding the right person at the wrong time.

Bianca S. // A SUMMER DAY IN TUSCANY

The golden sea of grain
Sways slightly in the breeze
Small ruby-red poppies peeking through the stalks

The song of the cicadas
Their cacophony of love
Buzzing insects adding their sonorous voices to the mix

The lovely fragrances
Of geraniums, lavender, hibiscus
Add to the warm pleasant smell of hay and drying grass

The balmy gusts of wind
Caress me as they pass
Tall grasses tickling my skin as I wade through

Everything is perfect.

The best sensation of all, however
Is not a sight, sound, smell, or touch
But the glorious taste of gelato melting on my tongue

Kathy Xue // A GOODBYE TO REMEMBER

It has been a year but I’ll never forget,
what happened was a vivid blur
and I am still trying to make sense of it all,
interpreting and reinterpreting it again.
It was the shock, I was in shock –
I remember your eyes, they were ashamed,
looking down at the floor while our friends looked concerned
and I was smiling nervously,
or maybe obliviously,
and when you broke the news, I…
can only remember what happened after.
Our friends went outside to say goodbye to you
as the blinding sun shone through the window like nothing happened
while I was still in that room,
wrapped up in self-loathing,
tortured by the unfairness,
and strangled by invisible iron chains.
I am still there, watching as time walks ahead of me,
and watching you walk ahead of me,
and I am still interpreting and reinterpreting it all
and seeing everything I could have done differently,
and just maybe it wouldn’t have come to this.

Bryant Xia // SNKRS

The swoosh glistens under the sun, The shoe tongue sticks out proudly. The outsole pushes against the rubber,
As the boy soars sky high.
Yet before he knows it, Debris creep into crevices and meshes As they traverse the parquet and concrete.

They now rest in a dusty corner, Uncertain of their fate,
Feeling lost and forgotten.
Occasionally they glance over, to the new pair that occupies their old spot
On what is now A spot-less shelf

So the boy wets a soft bristles, Gently brushing away the dirt and smudges,
Restoring the shine he once saw When he first laid eyes on the shelf.

Perhaps they’ll end up in a landfill. Their meshes and fabrics Torn apart, burned,
Buried and finally neglected.

Yet as he matures and grows, The sneakers begin to age, The cherished pair becomes outdated and unfit.

But that’s okay, They have served their purpose. Memories of the summers they spent
together, Forever lives on in the boy’s mind.