object description – Page 5 – "2:25 PM" – Poems from Lexington High School Class of 2018

Joshua Lo // MY SONG

Every season, I would try to sing, but

Out of tune,

Out of rhythm,

Out of breath.

I never wanted to learn-

What’s the use?

Out of pitch,

Out of harmony,

Out of tempo.

Day by day,

I would play out onto the open field, where my next meal lay

Innocent like a pig,

Ravaged by a group of humans.

Month by month,

The leaves would fall,

Just like the feathers of my youth.

Year by year,

While the others were learning:

Articulation,

Dynamics,

Melody,

I wouldn’t care.

Spring,

Summer,

Fall,

Winter.

Five years have passed,

All my friends have families-

Around spring,

I see them build their homes,

For their many children-

Why don’t I have a mate?

You need to wake up
Come back to reality
Right now, everything is perfect
Your favorite scene is playing
You don’t want it to end
You press snooze again
Each time, it’s harder to get back to that place
To your perfect scene
You slowly open your eyes
Because you know you’re running late
You try to close your eyes again
But when you do
Nothing… you get nothing
You try to start it playing again
Your perfect scene
It won’t come back to you
And the chances for it to come back again
Tonight when you fall asleep, are low
Your dream is gone
Your perfect scene is gone

Giancarlo Zaniolo // THE LAWNMOWER

During the peak
Of summer,
The blazing sun
Blesses the world with
Its welcoming rays.
A peaceful afternoon,
Wasting the hours away,
When all of a sudden,

A once serene day
Turns sour in an instant
A wild whirring noise
Proclaims its presence
To all who can hear

Once the sound
Of the dreaded machine
Enters the ears of an
Unfortunate fellow,
There is no question
That for the rest of the day,
They will hear nothing but
This very sound.

The monotone buzz
Erasing a layer of this
Fragile green carpet,
Its wild blades whirring
Stirring up a vortex of grass
Going pass after pass

Like a blender
That takes all ingredients
From their sources,
It slices and churns
This once peaceful meadow
All the while packing it
Into a large bag,

Is nature’s carpet
Really so dangerous

That we have to ruin
day after once-peaceful day
In this very way?

Matei Golesteanu // CELERY

Let them be as candy,
Always sweet and appealing,
but unhealthy.

I’d rather be a celery,
Green and powerful like the hulk.

To have fed millions of people around the world,
To be full of good nutrients,
To have kept so many people healthy and active.

I’d rather be disliked, and if
then avoided by everyone ,
than to be an unhealthy piece of candy,
Which is mass produced
by humans and not by nature.

I’d rather smell of the earth and soil
Than of food coloring and sugary crap.
If I could know I kept people healthy,
I’d rather be a celery.

Sophia Sullivan // PEPPERMINT DECADENCE

The curve of the spoon’s edge, my fingers glide down its side
The elongated piece of plastic clings to my hands
I swiftly move it down, submerging it into a bottomless cold and flaky dessert
Gliding through the contents, the spoon scoops some on its back

Frost and mint rush into my nose, I can hear the soft lock of the freezer door
My mouth waters, my eyes are fixated on the task
A heaping scoop of decadence lifts inches from my mouth
I inhale the frozen sweet treat

The cold cream chills my lips, softening steadily on my tongue
The creamy excellence delivered into this world for sheer pleasure Rests on the roof of my mouth, slowly melting away my concerns
The refreshing sting of the delicacy makes my taste buds cry for more

A sigh releases my mouth, the frosted utensil is wiped clean
I crouch in the silence and grin spreads across my face

I purloined what I wanted most

Peppermint ice cream

Dilara Dokmecioglu // AN OPEN BOOK

Let their stories be written as diaries.
Always with perspective and thoughtfulness
But guarding concealed secrets,
Hiding behind a seemingly perfect facade.

I’d rather my story be an open book.
Free and brave, like a bird
Rising above trivial conflict
To soar across the clear blue sky.

To have expressed my motivations,
To be honest and kind
To be loyal and unwavering
A trustworthy and understanding companion.

I’d rather them see my colors
Than lock away my thoughts.
If I could stand tall and true,
I would rather be an open book.

Rebecca W. // OPPOSITES

Let them be as volcanoes
always fiery and blazing
but turning land into coal.

I’d rather be a mountain
tucked in with the others like a single snowflake
falling down with so many.

To have broken away from the others,
to stand tall and proud.
To be blanketed in snow
or glisten in the sun.

I’d rather be cold and hidden, and if
then shivering instead of an uncontrollable madness
than to be a ball of flames
where lives are destroyed
by their own decisions.

I’d rather be serene
than angry and always seen.
If I could hide within myself under the sky
I’d rather be a mountain than the other kind.

Xinyi Zhao // NANJING

7:15, tide raised:
Surfing in the wave
of the crowd,
The station doesn’t
seem to have space
to stand still.

Bouncing onto
each other like penguins,
Finally able
to get on the train;
The pressure of air
keeps one remembering
breathing.

Washed out by
the flood of people;
Drifting with
the mob, floating
back to the surface.

As violent as the
Waves seem,
In a small
valley road
was able to find
some peace.

As marvelous as the
tide seems
as a whole;
Yet each is
an individual drop;

Feeling at home.

Category: object description

Joshua Lo // MY SONG

Annie Hurd // DREAMS

Giancarlo Zaniolo // THE LAWNMOWER

Matei Golesteanu // CELERY

Sophia Sullivan // PEPPERMINT DECADENCE