Category: lhs-poems-2019

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Henry Xu // SEESAW

Life is like a seesaw,
Our journey is just like walking on the seesaw
From the bottom to the top side,
You begin with your first step on the seesaw.

Every step that you took,
It became more threatening,
The higher you grasp
The more intricate it is for balancing.

When you think yourself is progressing towards the top,
You realize you are falling,
Like a rollercoaster speeding down the tracks,
Towards the unknown.

Then you find out,
You cannot always reach the point that you want to reach,
Struggling back and forth numerous times,
You perceived the intricacy and started to screech.

However, you afterward become discerned,
That you realize standing at that peak,
Is the balance point of human life,
However, how would you streak?

There might be another method,
Where somebody is holding up the seesaw for you,
It might be your family or the people you love,
Or the enemies that you had successfully couped.

Kaitlyn Driscoll // I DON’T KNOW

I don’t know what will happen tomorrow.
And that can be terrifying.
I don’t know exactly what I want to be
Where I want to go
Or when the time to leave is perfectly right.

I don’t know what would have happened if
I approached more decisions with the courage they needed
Or if I chose a more beneficial path
Or if I fought harder for something that means everything to me.

I don’t know how to grow up all of a sudden
And satisfy someone completely
Or live up to expectations I have for myself.

But what I do know
Is that I can’t live in the past
And I’m in charge of my future
My journey

Will Buchta // BOREDOM

It’s an unwanted feeling
Bringing restlessness
And making one uncomfortable

Sitting on the couch
On a warm, sunny Saturday afternoon
Seemingly nothing to do

But then an idea comes
Creativity sparks and finally
You are wrapped up in something
You could not have imagined before

Thomas Ahn // FLAKE

white is
white is
the light
dances across the smooth

searing
sensation
from the cold
I realize now my hand
I let it be consumed

still I stay
hold on
for it I love
too much.

Peter V.R. // NUMBER ONE

The orange chair gathers dust
The long empty chambers bubble quietly
The blue machinery is quiet
emptied four years ago
Silent in mourning
Of the loss of their owner

Still has the blueprints
Of countless contraptions
To capture the blue speedster
And make his town lazy again

Banana peels and nets
The former beginning to smell
The latter unravelling
Thrown around the floor
Like worthless pieces of trash
Around the countless machinery
Slowly rusting
Not being able to do their one job

Without pay
Creating evil plans
Be it getting more of himself
Or disguising himself
He always had something
Not anymore
He was number one
He said it himself
And he always will be
Within our hearts

Anika Ruberti // SUMMER SUNDOWN

Sit on the dock

Orange and pink hues paint the sky
Melting into the mirror before you

Seagulls call from above
Gentle waves sway you
Weightless

Dip your toes in
Watch the ripples expand
A cool breeze cuts through the heat
Relief

Put the board into the water
It cuts like a knife
Effortless

The water is silent

But laughing is heard from the background
Long deep breaths
Floating

The last light dies
The last evanescent ripple deflates

Look at the reflection of yourself
Staring up at you
Smiling

Mehdi Zidar // ADDICTION IN OUR LIVES

This double edged sword seems to
Control our lives,
All that we chose to put into it
Seems to never be forgotten !

We all feel an attachment to it,
A connection that can not be broken…
It’s noises and alerts keep us up at night
And the bright screen seems to always
Keep us Mesmerized.

Akul Kesarwani // NIGHTTIME

A group of armed pirates racing in broken down motorboats
Off the Somali coast attack, the Night an impenetrable shield,
Empowering their parasitic practices,
Stealing from cargo ships that carry the fruit of others’ labor.

The waves wash away our work, time wasted.
The Night enables this, it embodies the clock ticking but with progress frozen in time.
“We never have time!” A complaint that never ceases to exist. The Night an untouchable culprit.

The Night falls upon the sky, wealthy.
Wealthy, not from its own work,
But instead by chipping away at our sand castles, wave by wave.
The Night is a palace built on the people’s burden.

The palace so lavish that Versailles looks like a slum.
Our access denied even though we are the architects.
Theft from seven billion humans, our Dreams crushed by the weight of the Night.
The life of our dreams turned into lifeless bricks of our own   demise.

The perfect system
Creating, crushing, and using the Dreams.
Nothing can compare to its efficiency
Except us.

Civilization reminds the Night of those that defeated it.
The Dream that escaped the clutches of the Night taunts it.
The Night consumes our pipe dreams,
But the ones we truly nurture become reality.

We store those in our secret cache
Hiding underneath the artificial light that came from Thomas Edison’s Dream.
The artificial light that illuminates our Dream
And gives it chance to shine.

Ben Solomon // MY ENEMY

I ask my alarm clock to wake me up peacefully in the morning
It says that it will do its best. Deep
down it just wants to enrage me

Ruin my day Make
me miserable

I click the snooze button and think that I killed the clock
Put my head back on the fluffy pillows Pull the soothing
warm blankets over me And just when I fall back asleep

I hear the the ringing of the clock
The stupid ringtone The
vibration on the table The clock
has beaten me The day has
started