Category: ode – tribute – celebration

Rachel Man // PLAYGROUND

The scalding swing groans slowly
up and down. The skritch skratch of chalk,
faded colors, walk and wash over
faded colors, layered and sunbleached.
Silver aluminum buttons in the sun-yeowch!
sizzling, consuming blackness.

Hear the slapping of feet against the blackness
a skip and a jump and an “ice cream, ice cream, cherry on top,”
coming closer and closer.
Chasing hands, reaching out to touch,
but just out of reach.

Yelling and pulling
at fistfulls of hair and screeching
with harsh laughter
(disapproving faces look away).

“You’re it!”
and footsteps, out of breath,
loud and gangly, heartbeat drums.

grubby hands knead chocolate, earthen
mulch onto dirty, laughing cheeks and earthen smiles and

“Tag, no tagbacks!”

Kristina Wong // ODE TO MY EATING DISORDER

Tonight, Christmas evening,
Was the peak of our relationship.
Allow me to explain.

Before our family dinner,
I tried to wear my favorite dress—the black satin one,
That shines softly in light.

You tenderly called me a cow, and asked
‘Why don’t you cut away your fat?’
‘Can’t you carve your stomach flat?’

I trudged back into my room,
Your loving abuse clinging to my body all the way.

I changed into your favorite clothing for me—sweatpants,
And joined our parents and brother at the table.

At the sight of the steaming turkey and creamy potatoes,
You hissed kindly to me,
‘Touch it and you’ll regret it.’

Nobody else could hear the sweet-nothings you whispered,
But don’t worry, I did.
I swallowed your advice instead of my food.
And later I emptied my stomach of everything except your words.

Now thanks to you, my ribs are finally showing.
Our love truly goes to the bone.

Faye Lewis // PENCIL

Long and thin
Sharp on one end
But soft and forgiving on the other
Dull
Until sharpened like a blade
Always
Moving, scratching
Along a blank surface.
Filling the page with dark marks
That fade over time
Never permanent
But always powerful

Richard Chen // NEVER THE SAME

Never the same.
Years ago, on that field, the revolutionary war Sprung up
The first shots,
Fired.
Now, a subject of history,
Tourists are led by men in olden clothes, Triangular hats sitting atop their heads.
I can go to school and learn anything I want Without ever stepping outside the classroom. When I just look around me,
I see people from all around the world,
With their own, different
Cultures, stories,
Ever changing,
Never the same.

Sitting outside,
The trees rustle their leaves, letting me relax. I release all of the stress from the day. Again,
Tomorrow will be
Never the same.

I walk back to my elementary school— Standing there, on the pavement,
I watch my childhood field
Get torn up
Dug up
The rocks that dutifully served as our soccer goals Now a pile of sand,
The playground where I loved to play
Replaced by a big block of metal,
Growing and growing each day.
Soon, it will become a big school,
For those young children
To again kick their soccer balls
And slide down slippery slides.
And when I come back,
It will be
Almost the same.

Catalina L. // IMMORTAL BLAZE

The fog surges,
the sunrise awaits.
Complete serenity,
Rain, clarity
Yearning a shift.
The vapor cascades down,
Warmth, lucidity
a place
home to a dove.

Enchanting,
Captivating
Enduring the luminosity,
letting yourself immerse,
through the fog
the rain
The city of eternal spring.

Till nightfall,
and sunset
when the city becomes viable.
Light surges from the mountains,
overlooking the beacon
Sending the reek of death beyond
the enchantment
at the cusp of your fingers
Medellin

A shocking paradise
Where dark meets outstanding light.
Acquires a feeling of intimacy
Everyone ecstatic,
Joyful
content
Lights glowing
Water glistening
enchantment
Colombia.

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.

Maya Subramanian // SMILE

A smile, Simple, yet powerful. A smile costs nothing, yet gives everything. It takes but a moment, But the memory could last a lifetime.
I’ve learned that all it takes is one smile, one beam one laugh one chuckle
To light up a day, Wash away the sadness, And create a sense of inexplicable cheer.
A smile can bring Rest to the weary, Cheer to the discouraged, Sunshine to the sad.
And all the while, A smile can never be bought, Begged, borrowed, or stolen. For it is of no use to anyone else
Unless it is given away.

Some people are too tired to give a smile, So give them one of yours!
Just stop by with a grin and wave, And create a memory to adore.

Galaton Z. // POETRY

A poem
is like a can of Coke
The first pop when opening it Mhm, so satisfying
Then the drink itself, as you take sips at a time
Is immensely refreshing.
The can is eye-catching Simple, and timeless

A poem
is like a light flurry
The soft crunch under your feet
The little caress of your cheeks
The peace and quiet of the surroundings
Is like the immersion into a poem

A poem
is like an apple tree
Bearing fruit at the right time
Even if some of it may be hard to reach
It’s all the more satisfying when you do
To grasp the meaning.
Or the fruit, whichever

Or a poem, to some people
Is just blank.
A meaningless
chunk of words
Or just simply
too hard to understand.
Makes sense.
I mean
sometimes that’s me

Hannah E. // FUNERALS

Funerals
I’ve decided
Are for the living.

When someone dies
They pass the pain in their life onto the people left behind.
And when you lose someone you love,
Every little task
Is energy draining
and life sucking.

It’s a war to think,
And a battle to feel.
And reality comes in little waves
And fully submerge you and you’ll drown.
And the harder you fight,
The harder it is to breathe and to think and to just
Be.

And then every little memory builds up until they all crash and  suddenly
There is a hole in the shape of them in your heart.
Your world goes colorless
All emotions and feelings are stripped from your everyday life.

The sound of their name
Rolling off of someone’s tongue
Puts a lump in your throat and tears in your eyes
but you smile,
And pretend everything is all right.
Because everything is.

You only grieve when there is nobody to see you at your most vulnerable,
To see you heave and shake
Until your knees buckle and everything blurs
And you have to focus on
In…. and out
In… and out
Because suddenly,
It has became in out in out in out and the room is shaking
And the world is spinning
And it hits you

Like the ground does when you walk down the stairs
Missing the last step,
That this was how they felt.
Because before you lost them,
They lost themselves.

And all of your unused love for them disintegrates into grief and hate
Hate for not doing anything when it crossed your mind
Hate for not reminding them that they were so loved
Hate
For not saving their life
Because you were too blind to see they were drowning.

Grief is the price we must all pay for love
We need to have both to truly appreciate love
And truly feel grief,
Because I think deep down
Grief is just expired love.

So we take all of our expired love,
Dress like death,
And prove that we will love again
With each shiny teardrop
That streams down our trembling cheeks
Every time someone we love falls
Like a leaf from on orange oak tree
On a brisk October morning.