As the lights flick off, I feel a kick at my lower back. As always. Evil bitch. In the usual routine, I reach down between the bunk bed and the screen and scrape my nails along the screen, grinning at the squeal from a few feet below. "LEXIEEE..." she whines. Thank god this is the last night. I turn over, hoping the nightly catfight is over. I've guessed wrong. A series of vicious kicks hit my ribs, my stomach, my legs. "Go. The fuck. To sleep." I manage to force out through gritted teeth. "NOOO!" Another kick. A hand reaches up and snatches for my face. That's enough. I throw my covers onto the floor, sit up, and hurl myself over the railing, landing on the floor with a bang. Ignoring the shooting pains in my feet, I take a step so that I'm right up against her bed. She has suddenly gone very quiet. I lean over her, and she shrieks. "SAMMY. SHUT -" "BARB! BARB -" "THE FUCK." "BAAARB!" "UP." Barb looks at us for a few seconds. "You brought this on yourself, Sammy."
hearts pound and finger nails dig into soft thighs sweat forms on brows and hushed murmurs are exchanged she walks in everything is silent her gray hair is frizzed her harsh expression radiates a kind of disgust she finds in children toddlers and teens alike the fourth grade class cowers until a projectile SMACKS right between the teachers eyes she yelps and we just laugh
Ella, you build up the tension so nicely in this poem. The description of the setting, the teacher, and the reaction which she elicits all create a sense of foreboding which is palpable. Housed in short, direct, choppy sentences, whose terseness mirrors the harshness of the teacher, these descriptions set up the one-two punch of the sudden shift in mood. My one criticism is this: be careful not to overuse those short sentences. Don't let them lose the potency that they have in the first part by using them superfluously in the second part.
It's so dark. I'm trying to peer through the night, but all I see Staring back at me, Is the night. Lonely, sad, quiet night. Without a friend, he screams in silence to ears fallen deaf to his words. I don't even hear him. Everywhere I look, darkness enshrouds All I can see, darkness has covered. Like a blanket made of light, pulled off the land to leave us bare, naked against the darkness.
The way is not in the sky, it is in your heart. Pressure should not come from the air, it should come from being 40 feet below the surface of the water. The way is not in the sky, it is in your heart. The way is not words, the way is feelings. What you know in your heart to be true, that is the way, the path you should follow. I am not crying now, but I have tears in my heart. For all of this pressure, all of these ways, the way of peace is in your heart. Follow.
The swift buckets of rain fall, and I am alone. Perhaps God would like a prayer, for those words I threw like clay and the lies I bit like fresh bread, dampened. But forgive me if I do not know how to say I'm sorry, Because this that you ask, of me–– Hastening as the gates begin to close–– Only children find apologies in their hearts, and self forgiveness in their presence.
Metal connects with white, leather ball Through the right side, a single-- or is it a double? Teammates clap and cheer, midway through chewing their bubbles The batter slides into second head first, an elegant falll.
"We've got a runner on second with two innings to go," said coach, spitting the seeds of sunflowers. "We just need some contact here, not much power." Needless to say, the batter delivered. Like Papi or Pedey, or some other pro.
~Technical Difficulties~ I guess I won't post, because now i've tried twice. And it's really a shame. Both the poems were nice But I guess that it simply is not in the dice.
As the lights flick off, I feel a kick at my lower back. As always. Evil bitch. In the usual routine, I reach down between the bunk bed and the screen and scrape my nails along the screen, grinning at the squeal from a few feet below.
ReplyDelete"LEXIEEE..." she whines. Thank god this is the last night.
I turn over, hoping the nightly catfight is over. I've guessed wrong. A series of vicious kicks hit my ribs, my stomach, my legs.
"Go. The fuck. To sleep." I manage to force out through gritted teeth.
"NOOO!" Another kick. A hand reaches up and snatches for my face. That's enough.
I throw my covers onto the floor, sit up, and hurl myself over the railing, landing on the floor with a bang. Ignoring the shooting pains in my feet, I take a step so that I'm right up against her bed. She has suddenly gone very quiet. I lean over her, and she shrieks.
"SAMMY. SHUT -"
"BARB! BARB -"
"THE FUCK."
"BAAARB!"
"UP."
Barb looks at us for a few seconds.
"You brought this on yourself, Sammy."
hearts pound and finger nails dig into soft thighs
ReplyDeletesweat forms on brows and hushed murmurs are exchanged
she walks in
everything is silent
her gray hair is frizzed
her harsh expression
radiates a kind of disgust she finds in children
toddlers and teens alike
the fourth grade class cowers
until
a projectile
SMACKS
right between the teachers eyes
she yelps
and we just
laugh
Ella, you build up the tension so nicely in this poem. The description of the setting, the teacher, and the reaction which she elicits all create a sense of foreboding which is palpable. Housed in short, direct, choppy sentences, whose terseness mirrors the harshness of the teacher, these descriptions set up the one-two punch of the sudden shift in mood. My one criticism is this: be careful not to overuse those short sentences. Don't let them lose the potency that they have in the first part by using them superfluously in the second part.
DeleteIt's so dark. I'm trying to peer through the night, but all I see
ReplyDeleteStaring back at me,
Is the night. Lonely, sad, quiet night.
Without a friend, he screams in silence
to ears fallen deaf to his words.
I don't even hear him. Everywhere I look, darkness enshrouds
All I can see, darkness has covered. Like a blanket made of light, pulled off the land to leave us bare, naked against the darkness.
The way is not in the sky, it is in your heart.
ReplyDeletePressure should not come from the air,
it should come from being 40 feet below the surface of the water.
The way is not in the sky, it is in your heart.
The way is not words, the way is feelings.
What you know in your heart to be true,
that is the way, the path you should follow.
I am not crying now, but I have tears in my heart.
For all of this pressure, all of these ways,
the way of peace is in your heart. Follow.
The swift buckets of rain
ReplyDeletefall, and I am
alone. Perhaps
God would like a
prayer, for those words
I threw like clay
and the lies I bit
like fresh bread,
dampened.
But forgive me if
I do not know how to say I'm sorry,
Because this
that you ask, of me––
Hastening as the gates begin to close––
Only children find
apologies in their hearts,
and self forgiveness in
their presence.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteMetal connects with white, leather ball
ReplyDeleteThrough the right side, a single-- or is it a double?
Teammates clap and cheer, midway through chewing their bubbles
The batter slides into second head first, an elegant falll.
"We've got a runner on second with two innings to go,"
said coach, spitting the seeds of sunflowers.
"We just need some contact here, not much power."
Needless to say, the batter delivered. Like Papi or Pedey, or some other pro.
~Technical Difficulties~
ReplyDeleteI guess I won't post, because now i've tried twice.
And it's really a shame. Both the poems were nice
But I guess that it simply is not in the dice.
Love the humor in this, nice rhyme too.
Delete