This is just to say
I have misplaced
my wedge
that was out on
the links
Have you seen it?
I left it on the green
Alone in the dark
you were probably
hoping I wouldn’t
need a new one
time for a upgrade
Forgive me
The grooves were ruined
it was so rusty
So dirty
Some would even say,
under par
The music blasting through my ears, The sweat beading on my forehead, The fleeing of 1000 butterflies in my stomach, All for 6 minutes. 3 periods.
Stepping on the mat, staring down my opponents eyes, asserting dominance. I shake his hand, squeezing it tight letting him know, I’m there to make him work.
Whistle blows and I get in the zone. I throw him around like a frisbee, then I shoot my shot, the same shot I’ve drilled a thousand times; it doesn’t feel the same, it feels powerful, electrifying. I score.
Next period: my opponent gets sloppy, he shoots, I score. I break him down while on top, I break his will.
Last period. I go for the pin, I get the win.
I stand up in triumph, he still lays on the ground in defeat. I walk to the center of the mat, With my head high and a smile gleaming across my face, We shake hands, my teammates screaming in joy for me, I walk back knowing there is no feeling greater.
It’s competition time.
The loud, booming noise searched the air
Faces, expression is satisfied and joyful
The rink is brisk
Like the wind on a Novembers day.
Nothing could compare
To the joy we felt after
The scores reflected back.
The bright lights
Illuminating our faces even more than the sun.
The team above us is now second
Because we conquered, I should say.
He stood atop the white, vast mountain.
His home.
Covered in darkness
The wind chilled across the layers of life
the pitch black ripples in parts of Bear Lake.
His friends swaying loosely in the wind
Giving off pleasant drafts of sweet caramel and soothing vanilla
Nothing but silence as the falling of snow began to bow at his friendly feet
Every step causing the snow to hug to his boot one by one.
Walking towards a bright blue ball of light and warmth that rose in the midst of the white spects
Melting the hearts of living things around.
He no longer saw the dark ripples but saw them begin to
Transform to a teal and light blue body that freely flowed, elegantly making way for all in its path.
All except the friendly moose
gracefully eating the lush green
Wet silky moss hidden beneath the sheets of the ice.
As he stood up pridefully with his rack of enormous horns.
Light glimmered across the glassy lake
reflecting light onto the darkened trees
On the animals in the sky and on the ground.
An unstoppable force to be reckoned with.
If only he could be there to experience it once again.
The big yellow house
With the large green yard
Where I grew up in Connecticut
My memories,
still
Here,
There,
everywhere.
Fishing in the pond
Just down the road,
From the big yellow house
Flying down the zipline,
In the backyard,
Of the big yellow house
Jumping on the slip n slide
Swimming in the pool
During the summer
At the big yellow house
Walking in the backyard,
to the woods
To the river,
To the pond,
That is just down the road,
From the big yellow house
The longer i have been away, the more unaccomplished I feel
The feeling of the sun, glistening off the reflective turf
To my second home
The bike ride is never easy
Twenty minutes, pushing up and down hills
Peddling, I wonder, when I arrive, will I be able to play on the fields?
Will there be people to play with?
So many questions involving one joyous idea,
To see the beautiful fields and to feel goals
Arriving at my second home today,
A few of my questions are answered:
Yes the fields are open
Yes my friends are there to play
The chance to shoot on a goal.
As I prepare myself,
My chest swells
My heart thumps
My eyes focus
I b-r-e-a-t-h-e in deeply and smile,
as the ball curls, gently, into the upper netting
of the goal.
A task
so seemingly easy: kick the ball into the gaping space
Little goals in life require hard work
At my second home
What I do is never predefined
I can do whatever my heart pleases.
Work, or mess around
Either way I’m satisfied
Relish the moment
In my second home, I’m working
In my second home, I’m living
In my second home,
I am accomplished.
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.
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.
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!
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.