Flying Sideways

(This one is about insomnia. It's a little rough still and I'm working to edit it, but I wanted to post it, so here it is!)

This is how I roll
This is how I ride
On a balance beam on the edge of time
I slip, I slide in eight-inch heels
On an icicle over an abyss
I sway in the wind over an icy plane
All is dark and the wind bites
Fear is tangible on this dark night
Red fluorescent numbers sing me the time
That’s my death sentence, that’s my crime
All is empty, silent, still
A black hole that sucks me in until
I’m lying on ice that’s far too thin
I trip, I step, heel to toe
On a rooftop edge a mile high
While a question lingers against the sky,
Across the depth
What if I were to miss a step?
I laugh, I wobble on this edge of mine
I might just slide back into time
Into a dawn and a burning sun
Who knew the day had finally begun?
Cartwheel sideways, wheeling still
Trip and flip and slip until
My lack of balance has me…
Standing still
Those empty eyes look on, won’t flee
They didn’t know I had it in me
Handstands and triple flips
What I lack in confidence
I find in sheer pig-headedness.
But when I close my eyes
When I give up,
Let out a sigh
I fly sideways off this icicle edge of mine
I lose my heartbeat, lose my spine
The walls fall and the tears glide
All my flaws just seem to slide
Away, away, I let them go
Falling, falling towards empty snow
An empty welcome, an age old crime
It will happen again sometime.
Next time I find I cannot sleep
I’m flying sideways, in too deep.

Frances

Perspective

this is my first post and its about a convo i had with my bestie (shout out to fitzy)

Im not a monday person she said
not a monday person?

Nope she said as she looks at her shoes
every monday she looks at those same shoes

they never say anything back

Well dont worry,
why?
There are only one hundred and thirty-six mondays left untill you graduate
you sure do know how to put it into perspective she replys


the echo of her shoes fade as she walks away with a smile

L-Staff

Poetry Jam 2008

Schedule:

Dec. 14-
Start submitting poems! (email to MHSpoetryclub@yahoo.com)

Dec. 21-
**Christmas Break - Happy Holidays!**
Submit poems
Practice reading & start memorizing
Think of creative ways to present your poems

Jan. 4-
Sign up to help with the show
(directors for planning, volunteers for Jam night)
Submit poems!!!

Jan. 11-
!!!DEADLINE FOR SUBMISSIONS!!!
Typing and emailing poems in the Computer Lab
(bring any you need to type)
Poems printed, copied, given to directors for selection

Jan. 18-
**Midterm Exams - okay to miss meeting**
Directors read poems for selection
Seek volunteers and tech as needed

Jan. 25-
[Decide can you be in the show or not? - check dates / conflicts!]
Editing Workshop - bring your submitted poems

Feb. 1-
Jam Poem selections to be announced!
Fill out a Director's Notes sheet for poems with special presentation
Start memorizing your Jam poems

Feb. 8-
Reading Workshop - bring your Jam poems
All Director's Notes sheets must be turned in!
(Directors working on Master Script)

Feb. 15-
**February Break - Enjoy!**
Memorize those poems! Practice reading with feeling!

Feb. 29-
Reading Workshop - memorize so we can work on delivery
Master Script to be presented (voice any objections)
Script copied and distributed to all

Mar. 7-
Practice poem order, memorization checks
Plan bake sale, program and ticket design, advertising

Mar. 14-
!!!DEADLINE TO MEMORIZE POEMS!!!
You must memorize to be in the Jam!

Mar. 20-23
**4-Day Weekend - Happy Easter!**

Mon, Mar. 24- Rehearsal in Auditorium
Tues, Mar. 25- Rehearsal in Auditorium
-- please, everyone, plan to attend both rehearsals --
Wed, Mar. 26- (nothing. rest, focus, practice...)

Thurs Mar. 27- !!! POETRY JAM !!! 7-9pm, MHS Auditorium
Fri., Mar. 28- !!! POETRY JAM !!! 7-9pm, MHS Auditorium

On a bus in Hawaii

True story. This is the randomnest thing that ever happened to me - I was waiting at a bus stop, and this guy (he lives there) just started flirting with me for no reason. And this is pretty much how it went...

You have nice eyes, you said
(it’s true, but you didn’t mean it)
You have nice sunglasses, I said
(mirrored orange plastic,
warping my image and rendering me in
cheap metallic flame;
and of course I meant, what if you took them off?)
Understood.
You slid the plastic frames up your forehead,
revealing two
simple
curious
chestnut-burning-to-emerald
windows on your soul.

Your soul wasn’t cheap plastic,
and I think you saw me clear,
and yet
when I said those were nice eyes too,
I didn’t lie, and I didn’t mean it either.

-- Alexa

African god

Pretty man
Dance for me, pretty man.
Swing your waist
and grind your hips for
ME pretty man.
Leap and kiss the stars
with your lips wet
from the rain of the Savannah.
Climb the clouds
to reach the sky
and swim through winds
of opal blue.
Pretty man
Can you sing, pretty man?
Can you fly on trees
and lie with the sun
when it beds my Mother Earth?
Or you laugh with the sea
and sip wines of fire
pouring down celestial eyes.
Stretch your mind to
feel a heartbeat, pretty man.
Lapse your tongue and
hear the night soar
pretty man.
Be MY pretty man.

- Jemimah

Generation Legacy

Summarizing the actions of Sally Heming /
Sally Heming how could you?
As if I don't already know /
Sally Heming why wouldn't you?
Rather than to get beat up /
to get worked out /
you got fucked up /
and dropped down three children. /
Damn that Jefferson man. /
Damn that just for fun man. /
Man who take and don't acknowledge /
man you men. /
How must it have been for you /
Sally? Sue, Sarah, Sasha, Shaniqua, Shakeira, Saleeta /
how is it for you?

By DeidreAnn

i am grateful for snow...

i am grateful for snow
the sky's every imperfection is
whited out
smothered and
suffocated in
an ambiguous mess of cotton
confusing
these highway voyagers

snow spills around us
swaddles us
creates a cave in thick blankets
snow chokes
every squawking annoyance and
isolates us in city
squares
like
puddles

im grateful for the snow
that glosses all surfaces
with its white overcast reflections

and i am reminded of
times when five
years old meant memories
warm, when my houses brittle woodwork
chipped and created gardens of dainty white flakes
on windowsills where
windows were bare and held white worlds in their stomachs

i love these black pines huddled in
the snows angsting oceans
flooding the backyards

i love the snow washing the weary warmth
off my bones with its bathing cold

by Colin