Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Narrative Teen Poems | Narrative Poems About Teen

These Narrative Teen poems are examples of Narrative poems about Teen. These are the best examples of Narrative Teen poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Narrative | |

Sweetest Love Note

One night a guy & a girl were
driving home from the movies. The
boy sensed there was
something wrong because of the painful
silence they shared between them
that night. The girl then asked the boy to pull over
because she wanted to talk. She told him that her
feelings had changed & that it was time to move on.
A silent tear slid down his cheek as he
slowly reached into his pocket & passed her a folded note.
At that moment, a drunk driver was speeding down
that very same street. He swerved
right into the drivers seat, killing the boy.
Miraculously, the girl survived. Remembering the note, she
pulled it out & read it.
"Without your love, I would die."

Details | Narrative | |

Granny Panty Annie, the Tranny

Lemme tell ya' about a
*ding-bat skit-zo 
bee-hotch* tranny
named Annie...

I met her one night 
under disco lights 
up at Candies

She was 
starin' at me
grittin' her teeth
aimin' ta' see 
if I wanted a piece
of he 
of she 
by way of flashin' granny panties

She was
shootin' pool
actin' a fool
so I 
took a shot
and one tiny glance 
but got caught

So I
lit up a smoke
and tried to play it off cool
but it was too late
she had pulled up a stool

She slurred,
"Hey young felluh, where ya' been all my life!"

I replied, 
"Sorry to burst yir' bubble, but I got a wife!"

"That don't matter kid, what she don't know won't hurt the girl" 
as she fisted my collar and yelled, "I'LL ROCK YIR' WORLD! Annie the Tranny is what they call me. Bet you been wanted ta' bone me since you first saw me!"

Fear and frustration danced on my face
I begged the bouncer to 
"Get this he/she outta the place!"

My pleas were to no avail, 
and that sea donkey lurked hot on my trail
flailin' it's arms and grindin' bar stools with it's tail

Speakin' of tails...
a shiny blue wale tail crept up her back
Her jeans were mean, but couldn't hold her underwear's elastic slack
but at least it beat feastin' eyes upon her crack
then she... 
wrapped her grimy hands around my neck and asked, 
"You n' me, boy, what the heck!?!"

I screamed,
"Look here lady, you seem real nice for a tranny;
ya' see...
ya' need 
to hit the bricks,
and yir' Granny Panties!"

At that point the joint started to really heat up
people were glarin' like they really wanted me beat up
I can't recall how the hell I got out of there 
alive and free
it was like a big manly freight train
headin' dead at me

I'm pretty sure I owe the good Lord a big favor
that beast was the devil
and Jesus was my Savior!

It's a night I thought would never end... 
the night at Candies Bar n' Grill
Granny Panty Annie got a thrill 
tryin' to make me her sexy friend!!!

Details | Narrative | |

Already Dead

"Gosh, you're such a freak."
"Did you wake up that ugly?"
You say to me.
It had become a daily ritual that we partake in.
You say what comes to that cruel, 
unsympathetic mind.
And I sit, 
telling myself I'll be home soon.
Just a few more hours.
Not the rest of my life.
"Must be hard to look in the mirror. Is it cracked by now? You're a monster."
You laugh.
I slide further into my desk, 
waiting for you to leave, as you usually do.
I never look up, 
too afraid to make eye contact.
That'd be too personal.
Yet you always find a way to get eye level with me so I can see the anger in your eyes;
masked is hurt, maybe,
pain from your own life as if belittling me helps any.
"Tomorrow. Same time as usual. Don't get any more beautiful on me."
You say, clearly kidding.
You finally walk away.
I exhale out,
letting the air I've been holding in escape.
I sigh and get up to leave.
Whatever I'm feeling I push down inside,
just like any other day.
I can't break.
Not now, not here.
I go home and head to my room.
Once there, I can feel.
Fear and frustration, cross my mind first.
Anger and agony, follow.
Sorrow and sadness, next.
Then come the tears. 
Warm as they may be, they do nothing to warm my heart.
The words of the day always find a way to my memory.
Today was a mild day,
most are worst.
The tears continue for an hour,
tissues fill my bed.
Then they stop and I go on about my night,
always anticipating tomorrow.
The next day is the same.
Different day, similar names.
I try to feel nothing, but today I feel bitter.
Years of torment have changed me.
Allowed me to feel quiet inside until I want to feel.
At the end of of the day, 
as we normally would part ways you ask, 
"Why don't you just kill yourself?"
For once I look up,
"But I'm already dead."

Details | Narrative | |

Not So Perfect

Here she comes, walking with pride.
Her face is so vibrant, she looks so alive.
Nothing can stop her, no one dares to try.
Her entire life is corroded with deals, tricks, and lies. 
Her beauty is everything, her smile kills all 
It brings down the strongest men, makes the highest building fall.
But when she comes home,
The story does change.
Her life’s not so perfect,
The positions rearrange.
Her father's an alcoholic, and not very nice.
She has a brother who gave up on school, and can’t read or write 
Of all of her family, her mother is the worse. 
Sometimes she wonders if she'll survive this curse.
He mother yells,and tells her that she's no good.
She would give it all up, if only she could.
At the end of the night she goes into her room,
She begins to weep, and eventually cries herself to sleep.
She wakes up the next day,
Puts on a happy face,
And goes to school as if nothing happened the previous night,
Or that absolutely nothing is wrong with her life.
So now that you’ve seen what’s behind the closed door,
I hoped you’ve thought about this girl a little more.
With the utmost respect,
I present to you, the life of someone "perfect".

Details | Narrative | |

The Saddest Story Known to the Human Heart

He sped home, 
His hands covered with desperation
Pedal down to the cold of the floor
His mind clouded with hesitation

She stood alone on the porch,
Her hands covered with damnation
Heart cold from the winter night
She was yearning for the liberation

Tears streamed from down his eyes
The night was clouded like a horror movie
Breaths are heavy and cold with perspiration
Thinking, “How could she do this to me?”

Her legs gave out,
As she collapsed to the floor
Headed to the phone
She crawled to the door

His love burned out,
As he slammed on the gas
Eyes blurred with tears
He was going way to fast

She had to tell him,
He was the love of her life
Phone was cold as she grasped it
She quickly dialed his number in strife

His phone rang in the side of his jeans
He scrambled for it and saw her name
Mind conflicted whether to pick it up
He answered in a crying shame

She hears his voice from the other side
She tells him she loves him and starts to cry
Then it happened
She never got to say goodbye

His speedometer was to the max,
His attention was taken of the street
Head on collision
He had his life swept from under his feet

She heard the crash on the other end
Screamed out his name in an awful blur
And collapsed again to the floor
He never got the chance to say he loved her

Details | Narrative | |

she dying to survive

deprived of a father to tell her that her skirts to small
she wore it to hug her hips and rise with every sway in her walk
her mother, another statistic of having babies to young,
was to whipped in her dip trying to be hip so she cheered her poor child on

she's dying to survive in a broken home
daddy not around to watch her spend a penny and mamas hardly home
she's dying to survive and she's put her school on hold
she's another undereducated black child with no priorities or goals

she careers soliciting her body, making it hobby to walk up and down blocks
waiting for the right brotha she can sweet talk and pick pocket
at the honk of his horn, she stops hot trotting
hopped in his car and found a quiet spot for lip locking

her hand rises up his leg, she feels for his man
he nods giving her consent
she prices her body for those new Jordan and dolce & gabbani
she'd rather rock the latest fashions then to feed her starving body

she's hopelessly devoted to being the hottest at the parties
she's dying to survive wanting attention to feel the space neglected by another 
who makes alcohol a hobby
she's dying to survive rich living is her poverty

she's deaf to her inner voice that yells to her it's wrong
she confides in bad associates who cheer her on
she doesn't know this is how she's dying
she's dying to survive

Details | Narrative | |


The day’s hot-the wind like a convection oven
Blows hot air in our faces.
My cap and gown insulates me
Baking me like a potato wrapped in aluminum foil
I desperately fan myself and look around
My eyes search for my peers and see;
The bros that survived school with me;
The others who shouldn't have;
The girls with memories already wet in their eyes;
The people I never met and will never know;
All desperately fanning themselves
In silence and in waiting.
We all are waiting for the same thing-
What's next to come.
For some it will be their names
For another a trip to boot camp
For many including myself- college
A couple can't wait to forget the tortures of high school
And a few will already be planning our high school reunion
because it was the best years of their life.
As I bow my head, not out of sadness,
but out of sheer defeat by the sun,
I scuff up my dress shoes in the clumpy grass of the field- 
that just finished another infamous drawn out lacrosse season,
I'll be thinking about the 4 plus years, 8 seasons,
worth of drilling and conditioning I did in that very field and on the surrounding track,
With a flash of ivory across my sweating face
I'll be thinking about
All the nooks and crannies
that I sanctioned for the intimate meetings of my girlfriends
The times caught and not,
All the heartbreaks and rejections,
The friends made, the best friends kept, and the many lost.
The drama, stupidity, and immaturity,
Everything that was and used to be.
And, all this time spent waiting-preparing
for this one moment
You can't help but remember it all
And with one, final sweet goodby-

Details | Narrative | |


My friends and I had midnight hide and seek
One had to stand by a tree and not peek
In my state of hiding great I was hard to find
My friends decided to just be unkind
They all got together and decided to hunt me down
I first hid in the river near my house and almost drown
When they walk close by me I silently move through the grass
It was very hard to see, but I crawled a long time and almost ran out of gas
Then I heard one say that they were going up and wait by the tree
I had an idea that made a way to make them see
A shadow that ran in the distance thinking that would be
I had my horse pull a little manikin to make them think it was me
My friends took their flashlight and shined it toward it
I thought I had them but one thing was clear they did not fall for it not a bit
They all laugh and started to call out my name
They all asked how the heck did you have time to pull that trick that was so lame
I did not answer so they kept on looking for me, but I was so quick 
Some of my friends started to get really mad and tick
I was a master of doing weird things they all knew what I can do
The night was still young and the grass was collecting dew
I decided to make a distraction once again
To think of it, it would probably make the night end
My friends finally surrounded my tree house
I was quiet, so quiet, more than a mouse
I had some rope in the tree house to make my escape
To distract them I made a loud noise like an ape
The tree that my tree house was in was at least forty feet up
I had some stash in my tree house a drink or two in a cup
My final hour is about to end I did not want my friends to catch me till I got to the tree
I took the rope and tide it on a branch and pushed off and that was the key
I landed on the garage roof and sneaked my way to the tree
My friends knew me to well that they plan things before I could see
They had a fish net ready for me to step into
I thought that was kinda wise and some what like pew
The few feet by the tree there was two of my friends that was ready
Up in the tree they both jumped down and pulled me up in the net fast and steady
They thought they had won, the person had to tag me before I touch tree
She ended up having to get something to stand on to reach me
I swung my weight back and forth till I ended up touching and the game ended
My friends and I were so full of surprises and that is what the game handed

Details | Narrative | |

Two Seconds To Say Goodbye

It buzzed.
She smiled.
He had replied.
Eagerly she dug
Her phone
From her pocket,
Her other hand
On the wheel.
Her gaze remained ahead
Into the darkness
Of the cold wintery night.
It buzzed again,
The screen illuminating
The shadows of the car.
Would he be there?
Would he come over
After his shift at work
Was done?
“What did he say?”
Another young voice replied.
“Give me the phone.”
She hesitated,
Not fully trusting
Her friend.
She wanted to know.
She wanted to see the words.
She wanted feel
The exhilaration
Of reading his words
She glanced down,
The screen now dark,
And fumbled
To press the keys.
“He’s coming,” she said
Trying to calm
The enthusiasm
In her voice.
Her heart beat harder.
How did she look?
What should she reply?
Gr8 C U L8T
In the same 2 seconds, she could have typed

Details | Narrative | |

Christmas Rebels

Christmas Rebels
It was about a weak
After that night walk
The unknown dangers, 
Made known, turned me weak,
I was managing myself,
After my heart was pulled,
From where it sank,
I was yet in the oven,
Of my haven,
To dry up the coldness,
And the wetness, 
Of that fearful night loneliness,

Today is Christmas,
The whole mass,
Was joyous,
Every home, glorious,
Meat was plenteous, 
Rice and beans.
Was every homes means,
Children bouncing in,
New goat skin jackets,
Mother’s dressed in costly
Beads and all the way,
Father leads.
For Christmas had taking over,
Taking over the African Shrine,
It supplied a joyous sunshine.
Our pockets were full of cowries,
Like a goldmine,
Happiness was mine,
For the usual war seemed 
To be hidden, and our teethes where like, 
“Forever opened”.

Oh! Joyful, blissful, plentiful Christmas.
Providing joy each time it surface, 
But joy has a slender waist that breaks so soon.
Christmas night came, so we visited 
Our beds as night rang it’s bell,

(To be continued in the next, same Poem).

Details | Narrative | |

A Dragon's Tale

Rally around the campfire
in the dark of a summer night.
Tell some interesting old stories 
and cook by a campfire light.

Skewer some slender juicy hotdogs  
maybe puffy marshmallows too.
Make them crisp and really gooey
to last until the blaze is through.           


Once knew a dragon with a tale
of a sweet damsel in distress.
Caged dragon fell madly in love
so knitted a sleek wedding dress.

Damsel said, “I cannot marry 
a love sick dragon in a cage.
For I am just a mere sixteen
and you are more than middle age.”

The dragon looked rather perplexed
didn’t know what to say or do.
He stomped, roared, and snorted fire
“I want to wed your mother, not you”!

The damsel looked extremely shocked
to say the least, she was outraged.
Her mother has not said a word 
on being in love or engaged.

The girl turned bright red from anger
that he was not thinking of her.
She was jealous to say the least
what she did next caused quite a stir.

Girl found key to unlock cage door
climbed inside and locked it behind.
Mother returned, found teen daughter
quite caged and forever confined.

Don’t wish for something that should be yours in the first place, 
you might end up with it…

A way to ward off suitors is to lock your teen daughter up with a dragon…

Copyright © 2011  By Caryl S. Muzzey

Details | Narrative | |


For whoever think story telling is that easy,
Would properly from this hilarious incident,
scene or whatever you might call it, would know is not.


Just some couple of months ago, I was invited
by a friend who knows me too well, back then in 
school as a funny guy and story teller and so he taught this
night, that his grand pa (who is a famous story teller 
of his village) had fall sick, I would be in a better position
to cover up for his father's so called responsibility
to his people. "For he (my friend's father, Williams) is a good story teller.
But what about me who has never faced 
the ample crowd with my 'cripple' tale unless sharing it with friends?" I mumbled.

In the middle of this enigma, my friend, John called me to the hot seat
to tell my tale to the unbearable crowd of adolescence. 

"God why am I here this day... But it shouldn't have been this day" I retorted.
The barbarian noise from the seats infront of me showed that truly I was 
in the middle of something and not lost...

"Uncle tell us a story!... Brother tell us a story!" the crowd shouted.

This day, I needed a free moment but they couldn't let me be.
"Once upon a time" they heard me said and they all resited.
" I am sorry, I am sorry let me restart it all over again".

Now in old man's voice, I told my tale before them:

"Once upon a time,
In our mothers' womb, when she
Ate, we ate. Goodnight!"

They all cannot but burst to laughter while I stood and walked to the room with my 

Anything after good night means nothing more till the next day.
Maybe I escaped the night by dissatisfying the emotions of those children,
in that scene, what about my friend? 
"Have I not brought shame to John's family? Did I do the 
right thing that full moon night?". My heart beats!


Not even do the audience remember or care to ask me: (In kid's voice)
"What if my mother do not eat while in my pregnancy, what will happen to her?" or 
probably care to tell me: (Back to old man's voice) "What lesson they have derived from 
the tale before their departure... Oh! No sorry, my bashful departure from their sight." 

Note: The tale: "Once upon....Goodnight!" is a Haiku form of poetry.  

Details | Narrative | |

Broken Treasured Flower

With his persuasive tone he continued 
Until she was convinced that the time was ripened.
After a long-winded foreplay she was stimulated,
Like the first taste of applesauce she wanted it.
Her mind poised as she lay back in amorous stance
But her muscles were tautened.

His fingers seemed roaming, but knows the targeted point
His fingers ambled, exuding great adeptness as she moaned
He asked her if she was indifferent and scared
Anxiously, like a baby’s mouth on mama’s nipple for natural milk
She mumbled pluckily with a not-at-all-response 
As she shook her head in affirmation.
In the twinkling of an eye his finger found the right spot.

Deeply his finger bumped into her
He assured her he would be as gentle as a lamb.
Reaching the ‘boiling point,’ shower of shivers rained over her
And goose bumps formed as her body became twitchy all over.
Profoundly both eyes met in enamored density; chemistry was mutual
She saw a telltale conviction in his eyes; her spirit was re-assured
His sedated smiles laid-back her muscles as her legs became wide-open.
Hush his tubular tissue struck softly-softly into her innermost sanctum.

In ecstasy she began to ask for more, oblivious of pains
She beckoned him for a hurry-scurry as her hunger for more continued.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      
As skilled in the game he understood the pain thereafter
So he took his time as he journeyed in grand pleasure at a snail's pace.
Deeply he invaded her sanctum sanctorum as her muscle cramped
And her network of tissues opened up to avoid 'traffic jams.'
Reality darkened fantasy as she felt pains oscillating insidiously all over her body
And dribble of bloods dripping from the broken treasured flower
Her eyes were filled with tears as she realized her tightly-held pride was gone.

She lay snuggled in his arms as he whispered into her ears lyrics like a lyrebird 
Like the Roman Janus her desired pleasure had fathered a two-faced offspring:
She was gloomy cheerless that her treasured flower had been broken;
She would never be the same again
She was worried that she might be gravid.
But she was pleased to have shared her innermost hush-hush with him
She was delighted that the days her peers’ poured scorns on her were yesterday
She would no longer be left out in their brash adventure natter
She was happy he left an indelible experience ingrained in her memory.

Details | Narrative | |

Almost Grown-Up: But Not Quite

I am almost seventeen years old,
It is almost summer, and
My boyfriend and I are 
Kissing with the 
Lights off...
I tell him I don't want sex.
I wonder if this will be like
The time-

I am sixteen years old;
It's cold outside but
My boyfriend and I are 
Kissing with the 
Lights off-
He asks me if I want
To have sex...
When I say no, he tells me
It's okay- but his hands 
Move to my body-
I still don't say yes,
But after a while,
He doesn't want to
See me as much anymore,
And I guess some other girl
Finally told him what 
He wanted to hear
Because it turns out that
He's been cheating on me...

Then I am fifteen years old,
Being asked my age
And receiving disappointment
From the hands of the  
Asker- always male-
Because my answer is
Three years less than
What he's asking for-

I am fourteen years old
And I stay home because
I have decided that
Boys are not worth
My time;
Not since-

I am thirteen years old,
And the same boy 
That kissed me first time
Asks me to have sex.
We break up after
I say no.

I am twelve years old
And my first boyfriend
Kisses me for the first time
On my birthday...
He tells me that he will
Love me forever.

I am eleven years old
And sometimes I wish
I had a boyfriend.

I am ten years old-
Sometimes I wish
I was a grown-up.

I am nine years old-

I am eight years old-

I am seven years old
And playing with Barbies;
Barbie is on top of Ken
Because that's what
Grown-ups do
On television...

I am six years old-

I am five years old-
I throw a fit because 
I am informed that
I will have to grow up
One day...

I am four years old
And Mommy and Daddy
No longer sleep in the
Same bed, now don't live
In the same house;
They explain to me and 
The other kids that they
Are never getting back
Together, but it's not
Because they don't 
Love us, they just
Have grown-up

I am three years old-
When I have nightmares,
I crawl into bed
With Mommy and Daddy...
I don't know why they
Share a bed, but I guess
It's because they always
Want to be together-

I am two years old-

I am one year old- 

I am a summer baby
Because my parents 
Made me on Christmas, 
And that's way more 
Than a sixteen-year-old
Needs to hear...

I am almost seventeen years old,
It is almost summer, and
My boyfriend and I are 
Kissing with the 
Lights off...
I tell him I don't want sex.
He says okay...
It doesn't matter.
His hands move to
My face.

Details | Narrative | |

Summer Waterfall

Deep in the woods I hear an angel's lyrical call.
Tranquil and serene, a majestic summer waterfall.
Where the oaks and wildflowers shade the creek,
reflections fall to earth from rays of destiny,
refreshing my soul and setting my spirit free.
I smell the aroma of rain mixed with the paradise breeze.
Tranquil and serene, a natural wonder and rainbow of peace.
A cascading sparkling jewel,
above a wave rippling whirlpool.
Upon the wind rides the angel's lyrical call.
Tranquil and serene, a majestic summer waterfall.

Details | Narrative | |

Quick Narrative What Goes Around Comes Around

There was a girl named Tracy Luke,
She cared so much about her looks,

She was blonde, pretty... slim and tall,
She loved her red lips most of all.

One day at school she mocked this girl,
Made fun of her looks, said bad words,

Then insulted another chick,
For being fat, ‘ugly and thick’,

Then barked at a girl who was black,
Called her a ‘colored, negro cat’

So this Tracy… she was so bad…
She bullied because she was sad…

She always had poor grades at school,
So she bullied, as though she ruled,

When she was done with junior high,
Her family told her goodbye,

She was moved to a private school,
Her senior years were not so cool,

She was the new girl, all loathed her,
For all were many times richer,

Days passed by, weeks and months would go,
Tracy was always feeling low,

The richer girls called her bad names,
Each day in class she’d be in shame,

Then one day she figured it out…
At her, her thoughts began to shout…

“Tracy, all the bad things you did
To those innocent and poor kids,

Back in your old school when you thought
You were ‘cool’ for the stuff you bought,

Are finding their way back to you,
God’s Justice, yes, is indeed true.”

So Tracy decided to stay
Patient, confirming her mistakes,

Until one day comes a new girl,
And Tracy says to her new self:

“Now this is my chance to amend,
Fix my mistakes, I’ll be her friend.

No longer will I be so rude.
I must be humble, not act ‘cool’, 

For I know now that what you do
To others may come back to you!”

Details | Narrative | |

This is a girl

This is a girl. She cried. She died everyday. Over and over again. 
 "Why is she still walking around if you say she is dead?"
That's not her. That's her body but her soul is missing. Along with her mind. That's why she is stupid. She is a zombie enslaving the human race. Her heart has also gone away. Because of her missing heart she can't get hurt anymore....that's a lie. With no soul she can't feel sympathy. That means she can't feel anyone's lies. 
 "Is she scared of anything?"
Yes! She is scared of rejection. She is full of fear. She cries fear, screams fear,she even bleeds fear.

Details | Narrative | |

L O M L Always

The thought of her smiling gave me faith
From when we were little we bathe
My mother and her mother is best friends
They both took care of us and gifts they send
We pulled each others hair
And she was always quick to dare
When I smiled at her she knew it was no good
She learned to pull me up and she understood
I just wanted her attention and that she gave
She knew it in her heart love was my slave
From when we were a child with full of energy I had my way
She was the one who was my guide and she did not push me away
When I saw her cry one day and her eyes was so sad
I gave her a flower and I smiled at her and made her glad
When some one special leaves her heart
I sat by her and never wanted to depart
She is the love of my life always
She is the one who gave me my hope through out my days
So I gave her my heart and love from within
And I did not make it thin
I stood by her side since I was a child
I gave her my support when we were wild
She knew who I was and I let her go the distance
I did not hate her or give her resistance
My mother and her mother are great friends and their virtue will never end
Because of their love they both trusted us to live our ways to transcend
So my childhood friend was my best friend, and now my wife
She new it from the start that we part of each others life

Details | Narrative | |

Angered Tongue towards the superficial

Dont take this reefer for loss of attention, I still smoke and will choke any sign of depression, especially from the infected interjections of peasants, leave you connected to levels of reality unexpected.. from your own simple minded world, your still worried about yourself and the next easy ****ed girl, that shits basic, we got over that way in eighth grade its not adjacent to the path we choose now, and if greed and fame's your choice you lose now. But see the real didn't die with biggie, he didn't say **** you and eat *****to the devil did he? 

                      Nah that was tupac he clearly revealed he never sold his soul, dude lived FREE so his STYLE never got old and in fact he'll never die for we'll remain.. still fighting evil but were claimed insane. So next time you fin yourself lost in a freestyle, wonder why your mind wont deliver freely maybe its "cleaned" child.. from the washing the same rappers you idolize use to get richer, whys drake work with "negatives" to see a "better" picture? im ****in finished, this pun or any other probably wont diminish but at least give me strength like popeyes green spinach

Details | Narrative | |

The Boy at the Park contest

I met a teenage boy last night
He inspired me to write
His words penetrated my soul
He made me evaluate my purpose and goal
He asked me if God was real
Then why does his mom go out at night and steal
Why was his brother murdered at eighteen
Why is his biological father a crack fiend
Why are children in this world starving everyday
Why does God not here him when he prays
Why are so many people living without a home
Why does he always feel so alone
Why did he have to grow up in the hood
Why is his whole generation misunderstood
Why do babies die at birth
Why can’t he have any worth
Why did his friends backstab him tonight to commit a crime
Why is he alive is he just wasting his time
Why are Americans never satisfied
Why are Christians dying for their religious love and pride
Why was slavery allowed for so long
Why are so many people living wrong
Why do many teenage mothers now exist
Why are many children slitting their writs
Why are drugs so easy to find
Why does the government keep us blind
Why is there cancer and all types of disease
“Ms. Help me understand all this please”
I looked over at this boy while tears dripped off my face
My friend this world I admit is one crazy place
Many things God never wanted for the human race
But we are blessed to have his Amazing Grace
His love will never go away
Yet, many live in disarray
God gave us all free will
At this point his eyes started to spill
We were created with choices
we all have our own voices
Angels were created to do whatever God may say
Humans have the option to disobey
One day we will fully understand
God’s original master plan
Someday we will have the privilege to see
What God intended life to be
One day evil will forever be locked away
Many will have to eternally pay
One day all that was ever taken from you
God will reinstate and make bran new
One day in this life you will grow up and be
A man with morals, values and integrity
For your present pain will not be in vain
You’re going to break those generational chains
Your sorrow 
will help others survive their tomorrow
There are divine appointments and I believe you just had one
I know that in your pocket you have a loaded gun
I know where you have been
I promise you the dilemmas of your life, you will win!
Even when you fall
You can still fulfill your call
I must admit
You only fail if you quit
One day some teenager will ask you to explain
And you will remember this night and everything you have gained.

BY: Sabina Nicole
Contest: Dilemmas

Details | Narrative | |


Make my life storm and shelter;
Earth and magic before mortal promises
Whispered into storm gray silk.
It is all fantasy behind green eyes
Laced with a tiger's grace.Golden earrings and ambergris
And the sweet scent of repletion...
The solace of one, pure, jewel bright
Unbroken bond
Held in the hollow of your heart and hands.
Sweep away the sorrows of the Past, my love;
Offer me unbridled passion with your kiss.
We do but simply rest in gentleness
Just beyond the lamplight's sweetest glow.
Time passes as it must.
The way of worlds turning
Is not so ordered by our standards...
And we live as we must.
We live, my love;
We are the softest of ripples
The soft ripples of laughter
Filling the air.
Storm and shelter...
Day and Night...
We are a righteous pair.
Passages through 
The reality of Storm and Shelter
We truly areA righteous Pair.

Details | Narrative | |

''Runaway Wanted''

I see my breathe.
Night has fell upon a frost.
Gods' chill lye now on my shoulders.
Alone yet not.
Silence now before the icey rain.
Surrender as my nervous teeth chatter.
For the warmth of a home is all that is desired.
My empty haven.
But,I am filled with a heart that is full.
Want nor wait.
Arms now cover me like a blanket.
Gust of wind has carried your unwaivered heart.
Candles lit a way to find what is left.
Merely an image of what once was.
Break down into a sob.
Remains frozen solid as climate has taken its' vengence.
I suffer no more,weak body.
Now only in spirit.
Shall I rest.

Details | Narrative | |

The Known Soldier

Last night awakened with thoughts of him
How long has it has been, only
Yesterday … 

First one I ever saw laid out
I sixteen, he nineteen, Viet Nam 
Airborne …

Purple complexion seeping through under glass 
I gaze on doll-like hair
Broomcorn …

His uniform perfect, tie straight
Blouse olive, at attention
Airborne … 

No one else at the funeral home
Me and a girl friend too early for death
Careworn …

Dead before he hit the ground
Cut down by ground-fire first jump no longer
airborne ...

So many years now, forty-two,
awakened with thoughts of him,
Wind-borne …

Still see his body rigid attention
rumor wire for arm, died before his time
Soilborne …

Didn’t know him well, would he
still be here if not
Airborne …

Would we have smoked and talked about 
women if he would be
reborn …

And what of Thua Thien, what now 
monument, blood of airborne boys?
Golf course …

Details | Narrative | |

Untitled #305 / The Traffic Teacher's Tale

They locked eyes. Engines revved and roared.
When the light flashed green, tires screamed across the pavement,
other horns were honked, and a cup of Coke
flew across the lane divider into the lap of the second driver
even as the car of the first driver veered off
into a ditch, overturned, cabin
crunched into a tree
and three souls rode their last.
The traffic teacher says we must control our emotions, but I know
this is impossible. Emotion binds the heart of every human.
We can control our responses to these feelings, or else
ignore them entirely.
I wish I could choose the latter.

Details | Narrative | |

The Red Kite and Wagon

Brother had made me mad so I knocked him down the basement stairs.
Choicely words he hurled my way-His teary eyes reflected pain and back at me they glared.
Like a viper he laid around the house daring me to come his way.
Sorry am I now for I have no one with to play.
After several weeks had passed, he still snarled and hissed.
Only his foot- to-hip cast kept him constantly at bay.
But I grew lonely with no brother to rumble with; no one to share my day.
Then the thought struck me as a jolt of reality-tomorrow is his birthday.
Off to Mr. Green’s corner store I went for a birthday present- I had fifty cents.
I spied a red kite- asked him to rap it and back to brother as I whistled and skipped.
I presented the little red kite which brother threw down-saying you ain’t right!
Sadly I looked for a solution of how brother can fly his new birthday kite.
It was in the backyard, positioned under the lean-to – the answer to my prayer.
I dragged it out and cleaned her with new found hope and no despair.
I carried my brother and placed him in the little red wagon with difficulty as he held his kite in hand.
The school yard was empty- we tailed the kite and then pulling the wagon I ran.
The little red kite stilled high in the air as brother and I where once again a pair.
The kite soared the faster I ran and finally at the end of the day, a brother’s love had been won again.

Details | Narrative | |

Cirque de Halloween

"In this town, everyone's waiting for the next sunrise."

Gather round children of every age, wouldn't you like to see something strange?
Come with me and you will see.
Let us set the stage, for this is Halloween.

Whispers hum in the wind. (I am the clown with the tear-away face)
HALLOWEEN! HALLOWEEN! the crowd chants.
Master scares and creeps.

This, our circus on Halloween.
Don't be late now, for after the show, everyone's waiting for the next sunrise.
This is Halloween.

"Life's no fun without a good scare" we sing.
 "I am the wind blowing through your hair; I am the hoo? when you call "who's 

I am the one hiding under the bed, teeth grown sharp and eyes gone red." my friend 
sings as the rest of the group sings the pumpkin song. 

"La, la, la la la, la. Life's no fun without a good scare! La, la, la la la, la. THIS IS 

As the song ends, it is replaced by the eerie tinkling of a music box; slow and scary.

But, hey. That's what we're here for; the scares.

Details | Narrative | |

Noxious Butterfly

I'm fine! Really, I am.
My eyes may give way
To emotions, but I've found
That hiding them is okay.
No one wants to live with
Their heart on their sleeve.
That'd be just fine if
People didn't care or need.
As it is, no one can
Survive. Not alone that is.
Clinging to one another and
Crying together like kids.

I want to surpass that,
I want to be able on my own.
In many ways like a cat,
I would do more alone.
Sometimes, when I think this
Loneliness pushes it's way in
And it gets so hard to resist
That noxious butterfly's sin.
Sure, I care for others
And want those feelings in return.
People are like wet covers
Weighing you down to get burned.

My feelings, I want to cut them.
To tear them down and rip them out.
But once it's dance has begun
The butterfly will win, no doubt.
No more! Leave me be I say.
You imploring noxious butterfly!
Feelings, I will not hear of them today
There are no rules that life goes by.
But within me the dance continues,
Those horrid things I want to forget.
Some sort of personal revenue
My noxious butterfly, my feelings, kept.


Details | Narrative | |


Can somebody please explain to me?
Why is it that she hates what she sees?
A seemingly perfect life
She is forced to hide behind a smile
Scared to face the truth
With a glance in the mirror, she doesn’t recognize her own reflection
A young girl’s view so distorted she feels so lost
Terrified to disappoint, she forces herself to smile
The girl trapped inside, so desperate to break free
And with every passing moment, the beauty inside begins to fade
It fades further and further away
She has lost herself
So desperate to belong, yet she is unable to move on
Unaware of the damage she has caused, she lives in a dream
She is trapped in the fog
She continues to live her seemingly perfect life
Never showing the fear
Never showing the pain
Never showing the tears, she hides from herself
Her reality is one where the truth can no longer be found
Why is it that no one can see the beauty of the girl trapped inside?
Why it is that no one can see that this girl is me??

Details | Narrative | |

Fear of the Unknown by Johanny Espinal 7th grade

I'm hiding inside
     the fear of 
being misunderstood. 
The sky would turn gray.

Fear of the unknown
   Fear of confusion
My fears blind me....
to the
          to hope.

Fear of the good.
  Fear of the bad.
So let me think....
   what else 
  do I fear?

Details | Narrative | |

Silver Strands

There she was, the girl of my dreams.
She had purple hair with silver strands.
Those strands stood out more than her hair.
They swayed with such elegance and grace.
How I longed to touch her hand, better yet, smell her gorgeous long silver strands.

Details | Narrative | |

Untitled #304 / Juvenile Court

I was the only one to attend
the poetry write-in downtown at
Juvenile Court, though I thought I saw
the outlines of a couple dozen young souls,
already forgotten, bored as me
but blind as bats.

Details | Narrative | |

Wilted and Willed

I'm lost, so lost,
Can't find my way
And the women there
Just point and wave.
Won't so much as
To try and help
This small, frightened person
Face the right path.

But I'm so lost,
Wanting to be found,
Hoping to find myself.
Just need a hint...
Anything is good enough!
Something has to give,
And I won't cave.
No matter the cost.

A leaf floats by
There is nothing else.
No complaints here, it
Will have to do.
Into haunted memories and
Down sinful thoughts, now
Starting to feel affections,
Feelings. Not just emptiness.

Almost there, keep going...
Just a bit further!
But no, the leaf
Is caught in water.
A wondrous, rushing river
Happens to hold it.
My dear leafy friend.
Still, I must continue.

Walking through scary feelings,
Violent emotions, vivid thoughts.
Walking is not possible.
Soon, dashing is all
That can keep me
Safe from all of
Those awful things inside.
Is this really me?

That is not what
Is wanted of myself!
Please, change these horrors!
Someone, tell me now,
Tell me to stop!
No forgiveness is expected
But please, help me...
Save me from myself!

Warmth, a certain type
Spreads all around me.
It swallows me entirely.
Holding my broken being
Together as if it
Were made of mega-magnets.
Then I hear it...
“That is all, now...”

Nothing comes to me.
Now I realize that
It never will come.
But I have to
Go to it, so
Sitting in one place
Will get me nothing.
Have to keep going.

The walk through emotions
Soon becomes a fight
For my self control.
Then the feelings rise
And I knock them
Down. Thoughts that were
Snakes, venomous and threatening,
Were felled by me.

I was completely lost
And not a single
Person would help me.
Found myself, and pulled
Through all of the
Sinful desires around me.
Now finally, I am
Just a calm entity.

Details | Narrative | |

There's HOPE by Juliet Rosa 7th grade

You might be in a 
bad situation,
but let me tell you something.
There's HOPE!

You might be willing
to make the wrong choice,
but let me tell you something.
There's HOPE!

You might feel guilty about the traumatic
experience you lived that day,
but let me tell you something.
There's HOPE!

You might be depressed about
what you accidently did,
but let me tell you something.
There's HOPE!

You might be dying on
the inside,
but let me tell you something.
There's HOPE!

You might think there's
no way out,
but let me tell you something.
There's HOPE!

Details | Narrative | |

All I Wanted

For years
I have always cried myself to sleep,
But that started after those bullies' words
Began to creep
Into my mind,
My optimism and happiness had become blind.
Making me think that I was always alone.
I seen how I was bratty and seemed to be happy,
But inside,
My inner sadness resides.
The tears that I cried
Were all about me wanting or needing
Someone to be by my side.
Every night
I wished for a less lonelier life.
Nobody could come over or sleep over sometimes
And I would be doing nothing
Except for thinking
About my life's meaning.
A close friend was all I've been asking for:
Someone who would talk to me everyday,
Even when the sky's grey.
Someone who would listen to me carefully
And comfort me later on in the day.
All I wanted
Was a true friend.

Details | Narrative | |

Lost by Jason Feria 8th grade

I am unsure of what to do
I'm speechless
I feel so isolated
I am unsure of where to find help

I'm very confused
I have no idea where I went wrong
My life seems monotonous
I can get a little exasperated sometimes

I am hopeful to find someone new
I've been emotional... I guess life moves on
The situation was painful
I am in need of talking to someone new

Details | Narrative | |

The Sixth Floor

Accuse me at will
Tear my insides
Douse the fire
That fuels my pride

I’m still here
Whether you like it or not
Still standing tall
A battle presently being fought

Feeling as if
Friends turned foe
Knowing their thoughts
Their final blow

Execution awaits
There is no hope
Metaphorically feeling
The noose around my throat

Don’t struggle now
Stand strong, stand firm
For my integrity now
Many will learn

Corrupt are the peers
Only seen through their eyes
Accusations of being unfit
For the well earned prize

Satisfaction never arrives
Remaining forever desirous
Plagued with insatiable lust
Engulfed by this greed like virus

Nothing is enough
To satisfy the thirst
A flawless example
Of mankind at its worst

Criminate me at your will
Make me prisoner to time
Tarnish my soul, kill the spirit
You’ve been so kind

Feeling so far away
Oh so out of place
Take my feelings, take my suggestions
Rip the skin from my face

You’ve been so kind
To have put me in this living hell
Everyone in life
I seem to repel

My presence not matter
I am told now
You tell me what I’ve done
Feeling herded like a cow

Times that we live
The times of today
Concern of all
Based on pay

Rip me to shreds
Leave no recognition
Glance at me or stare
In your minds own suspicion

Take my love, shred my arms
Destroy my scarce trust
Pierce my body with daggers
Thrust after thrust

Leave me in ruins
Then let your friends scavenge remains
All is so wrong
Far past insane

A forgotten memory
I am no more
No recollection
The only traces are sores

So I wallow
In this god forsaken cesspool
Made by you, I contemplate
Why mankind desire the power to rule

You spit in my face
Symbolically with your lies
Don’t deny it
Its in your eyes

A disgrace, and an embarrassment
Sheer revolt is felt 
By your presence
Your not even worth a blow of the belt

May your rot
Rot in hell
For I am a shadow
Can nobody tell?

Details | Narrative | |

Too Late

She sits in a corner,
feeling unwanted, alone.
Her friends and family deserted her,
they've been silent for weeks.
Where are they?
No one to talk to,
she clutches her pills,
and stares at the water that's been there for hours.

She thinks.

It's her birthday today,
but nobody called.
Today, yesterday, or before.
She pines for the phone to ring,
but knows it won't.
None of her friends are home, or family.
They must be out together
 - without her.

She swallows and listens
to her shallow breathing cease.
The phone rings.

She'll never hear them say,

Details | Narrative | |

Dont Love Now

That was a great moment
When my house was filled fully
With relatives, friends and new guests around.

Dad keeping busy, mom arranging,
Friends amusing, cousins entertaining,
I was immersed  within relishable tension.

Relaxing myself and taking a deep breath,
I entered in and bid all a traditional HI..
Focusing him at cross eyes.

We kicked off with a sparking smile,
It lasted for a couple of seconds,
Bowed my face with a sharp shy

It was like left in a green field
Filled with elite flowers and touchable stars..

Got a call the next day,
Informing I was selected in the race.
Everyone was tied with anxiety.

Following bundles of discussions,
In addition to my sanctions,
My phone digits were added to his ring up lists.

He first marched with the word ‘Hello’,
I continued with ‘Who is this!!!’
He prolonged with ‘The one who is supposed to rule u’.

Recognizing whom it was?? It was like-
Millions of butterflies flew under my belly,
Dribbles clogging upon the throat..

Fearing what to talk,
I blabbered, he laughed.
He nattered, I pinned my ears in.

One side was this path of unseen Love and commotion 
Other side was a bargains and organization.
The deal ended up with beginning of new covenant in the place of worship.

That was not only a reception but also a farewell,
Final byes to the friends,  adieus to cousins, cries to parents,
I was put into a family unit.

	He held my both hands, kissed at its palms,
	Looked directly into my eyes,
	Made me know what I mean to him..

When my nervousness overruled,
	he replaced with calmness.
When I met agitation,
	he created coolness.
When I feared on something,
	he hugged for many things.
When I worked restless,
	he comforted.
When I worried,
	he cheered up.
Whenever I was disquieted,
	he educated reality in precise.
He did them because he was the one who
	understood me next to GOD..

Accomplished castle in the sky
Daydreamt while missing each
Visualized our masked future
Engaged with enthusiastic honest instants
Managed enjoyments and working schedules
He provided a completely satisfied Life
Failed to remember my past failures in relationships
Brought me entire Heaven inside this tiny earth
Cant imagine what I’m without him
None ever could restore his standard
I can sum up everything he offered me
	Using a solo word “LOVE”.
That’s a splendid understanding at twenty five’s. . 
		Need a Life like this??????
			DON’T Love now. . .

Details | Narrative | |

Hope by Allen Argueta 7th grade

I believe, I believe
we can do this together.
One step at a time
as long as we work
together as one.

We can do this
even if we don't
make it, we'll be
together always
until the end.

Details | Narrative | |

My Generation

On a crisp blue morning
Like any other day
Abruptly evolving
Into a horrific display

Few words describe
This event of destruction
Automatically you blame
Political corruption

Who else are you to blame
But our elected chief?
In all actuality
Labeled in fictional belief

The cards are all
Now on the table
Justice must be brought
By any means able

Yet now you criticize
Our leader's standing declaration
Whatever happened
To this nation's protection?

Now watched by the world
On satalite television
Explosions and death
In high definition

Now shown to the world
This terror named war
And YOU now ask
"What are we fighting for?"

Freedom and independence
Our inalienable rights
For which often
We still must fight

Jealousy and resentment
Hidden behind religion based hate
Failed to be realized
Is this trajic date?

Enragement short lived,
By our nation as a whole
Crying and complaining
About our soldiers death tole

Fighting for us
They are defending our nation
Yet to be supported
By our ignorant MTV generation

All of your "children"
Signed up for their job
When needed they fight
Now they're purpose you rob

Hide in your burrows
For you should'nt be seen
Spineless is this generation
Lacking the integrity it needs

Details | Narrative | |

Hope in Darkness by John Caleb Martinez 8th grade

The darkness is filling up my room
  nightfall is coming very fast.
Today was really filled with gloom
  good thing the days never last.

I look at my closet and there I see
  something glaring at me.
It's not that big but it will do
  it fills me with joy and not gloom.

This small thing..., it is called hope!
  It is always found, even when I mope.
But it's never lost and never goes
  and this little thing never slows.

Details | Narrative | |

Mourning by Kenneth Morales 8th grade

At a graveyard, looking down at
the grave. In deep emotional pain.
Hoping that, that one person is in
a better place. Last few weeks
for her have been hell. But everybody
gave her a blessing and 
then she passed away. Now she's 
with God, looking down on me.

Love you grandma.

Details | Narrative | |

Invisible Music

My ears are ringing, singing
to the tune of invisible music
as I fall into bed after a
short, scalding shower after a
long, exhausting night of dancing at the clubs
after I left the game with that beautiful,
beautiful young black-haired lady after
I spirited her away from her friends in an old sedan
after I called to see if it was okay after
I spent an agonizing hour eating in silence in a
restaurant with my friends who all had dates
after she called to say she couldn’t come,
her little sister needed her, her friends were coming over,
after I thought we’d set our plans into stone
after we spent hours on the phone talking the night away
after I had asked her to Homecoming,
after I had first laid eyes on her,
after I had changed my schedule from Film
Studies to Creative Writing
on a whim.

Details | Narrative | |

Why me

Of  tall, handsome, rich one
Smart , brave who has it all,
Which every girl dreams of
Who will come on a horse galloping,
And take her along.
He & her both into their own little fairy tale,
Gone with the wind , happily with each other.
All beautiful, wonderful moments spent together.
Love conquers all.
But time being I had no such sweet dreams.
Then why me..??
Even though you were surrounded with all hot chicks ;
All fair and pretty.
Beauty, grace and of good race.
And of loads heavy bundles..
Telling you angel eyes,
You lucky man;have all.
All even those many choco-vanilla swirls,
But then why me?
Is it a game or something...?
Even a mistake.
May be even a bet,
Knowingly or unknowingly,
Want to or  you have to win.
Answer it.
Why all that pain,sorrow again?
Wasn't I happy with myself before?
I to never said no;
Love conquers..may be all....
even me.
But why me?
Why did you choose me?
Or is it a double take?
Like few others...I dont think so
then just going half way.. 
But  you had true feelings for me..
atleast this time for me which were true
Confess it !! will you?
Atleast once in front of me.
Was i attractive? polite?honest?bright?
Or do u have another  new story to tell?
Or is that I am filled with all values your mother needs. 
Then why did u go ? and now u want me to come back again..
No.. now m saying good bye to u now n forever
With my feelings for you  though being true.
But before going, answer 
Why me ?
Answer the truth,at least for once for me.

Details | Narrative | |

Who Am I by Toi Ruiz 7th grade

Dark and alone
wondering who's listening.
Terrified of who I've become.
The fear inside of me is out of control.

I'm the only one
who can see it.
Scared! Terrified! Alone!

Dark and alone
wondering who's listening.
Terrified of who I've become.
The fear inside of me is out of control.

Details | Narrative | |

take me from this misery

* this poem has been inspired by Breaking Benjamin's Dear Agony....*
* and was written in memory of my grandmother Jeanne Gula *

My name is Jeanne Gula, today i found out that i have cancer.
Its in a tumor, that's very painful, its very rare, its 3 cancers into 1
they already took it out once... and it came back.
The doctor said it was to late to take it out again.
Its not the perfect end to my life, but its all i can have..
I don't really know how much more time i have.
I used to be able to walk by myself, with out help.
I can't believe this happened to me... of all people.
It's be coming torture, they called in hospices.
This cant be good...
I'm in my own home, slowly dieing...
I really don't want to leave, I will leave so many loved ones behind..
So I think i will stay a little longer...
Its January, i now can't do anything by myself, i have to rely on family to help with
everything, my organs are starting to slowly shut down, its very painful to go through.
but my daughters birthday is coming soon... I'm not going to leave now... i don't want her
to be sad, on such a happy day.
I can't hold on much longer.
I'm now out of this misery, its feb. 2nd, and I'm finally free.
Free, of all this pain, and I'm healthy again, I can walk, with out hanging on to anything
or anyone, I can finally be independent again...
now no one cry for me, because i lived a full long life, and no longer in pain..
I love you all.
Love Grammy

Details | Narrative | |

It all adds up

One falsely accusing grandmother,
One misunderstanding brother.
One tear upon the cheek,
One heart that is very weak.
One life that was sad from the start,
One pair of lovers torn apart.
One very chastising world,
And one very sad, lonely girl.

Details | Narrative | |

Memories of Your Game

These lonely tears run down my cheek.
I'm tired of waiting and my patience grows weak.
Your friends haven't heard from you in days.
I find myself confused because nothing you say ever stays.
It's happened again, I have that blank stare,
But you aren't here to wake me from this nightmare.
Did you become tired with everything being the same?
Same people we love, even the ones we used to hate.
If you're so tired of breaking my heart,
Why are you makingt this distance so much farther apart?
I miss you; your vision constantly decieves me,
But it seems all that's left is a memory.
What is a girl like me to do?
Do I move on, or continue to wait for you?
It's hard to pull off giving an angel her wings.
It's easier to say it and mean a different thing.
Now you're back, but nothing is the same,
Over and over, I'm so sick of playing this game.

Details | Narrative | |

Lacey's Story

Rain pit pattered fiercely
Onto the pavement
As she stepped off
The yellow school bus

She laughed none too softly
And joined her classmates
In their rain dance,
Opening her mouth wide,
Raindrops landing on the tip 
Of her pink tongue

And then she lost her balance,
Sliding recklessly through a 
Puddle of rain.

She yelped,
Falling roughly on her butt
And as laughter filled her ears
Tears filled her eyes

Not because she was hurt
But because of the embarassment

Anyone else would have laughed it off,
Got up and brushed themselves off
But, she was different.

She would much rather have sympathy 
Than ridicule

Details | Narrative | |

Too Young

Two young lovers had eloped
Wandering through the grasses together they hoped
That this time will be one lasting love
A beautiful gift from up above

Now the two young lovers got what they hoped for
But never knew that someday hunger will knock at their for
Love can destroy even the divinity
Fate can turn into a one-sided animosity

Both of them were tied in each other’s strings
They were not too curios what their action brings
Too young to realize their real fate
Too fast to be each other’s mate

Desperate to get out of the dark
For they have already made their own mark
The two young lovers decided to finally quit
Before both of them will fall into a worse pit.

Details | Narrative | |

The Falling: Part II

Thats all she needs.
She desperatly wants his strong, protective arms to wrap around her and sheild her from this cruel world, this world that has broken her.
She desperatly needs him to whisper to her the words that would set her free.
That everything will be ok, and that he won't ever leave,
Like the many times before, where she would lie in his arms for hours
just listening to him breath in and out. His steady heartbeat playing its beautiful composition in her ear. The most signifigant sound in her world. 
She drops to her knees, pulling her drentched hair from its roots,
Screaming at the heavens.
The heavens respond with a loud bellow,
shaking the earth beneath her.
She knows the truth.

Yet she refuses to accept it.

The pouring rain continues to fall.
She continues to break.

He does not exist.
Not anymore.
He never did.

She wanted it too much.
She wanted to feel love.
She wanted to feel human.
She wanted to feel the unconditional need to be with another person,
and have that feeling returned with equal amounts of passion.

Was it too much to ask for?
Is it too much to ask for?

She can not move.
The rain starts to freeze mid air,
violently pelting her exposed body, leaving red marks as proof.
She does not care.
She can not feel.

The heavens cry out to her, begging her to get up, 
To get help.
She refuses.
All she needs is him.
Who ever He is...
Where ever He is...
She will wait.
Wait for all of eternity if need be.
She will wait for the unconditional love.
For that unruly passion that burns in both of their souls.
She waits for the man who was designed to love her,
to need her the same way she needs him.
She waits for the man who cannot live without her warmth,
her touch. 

And with that,
She slowly, unwillingly pushes herself off the muddy pavement,
permitting herself one final glance at the angry sky,
catching a glimpse at her diamond among coal
Her only friend in the wake of night.
The moon.
"Save me, my angel...Save me."
she whispers towards the sky, allowing a tiny smile to dance across her pale, desolate face
Before returning back to her throne in her cold, abandon dungon, her in lonly, abandon castle.

Feeling a new emotion she's never felt before.


Hope shoots across her sky like a metor.
Shinning so bright, filling her with warmth that blinds her.
The heavens cry out,
He will find her one day.
And she will be waiting. 

[.Because Falling in love, Is giving someone the power to break you.]

Details | Narrative | |

Her name was Love

Love was her name, her eyes the color of the ocean,
At only sixteen, she didn’t have the slightest notion,
Of what lay in store, what was the excitement?
The strange smiles, head nods and commotion.

Her parents sat her down one day,” Meet Rahul,”mom said,
In three months time it will be your wedding day.
“Oh,” she said, tears welling in her eyes,
“Gee thanks mom, dad, you too kind”

I’m getting married she thought, I must be in love,
But where is the love? Is it below or above?
Her thoughts suddenly are on Amor,
The boy on the corner, who carries her books for her.

But Amor is neither handsome nor rich,
He works hard by day, in a mill that hardly pays.
His family waits for their food you see,
Twelve hungry mouths to feed.

A second job he has at night,
Carrying wheat for the local dealer, Mike.
That extra money he puts aside,
For the beautiful anklet she so desired.

He’s too poor you see, so what gives him the right,
With no green eyes, and dimples or money in sight.
But mom knows best, she’s mom after all,
Getting rid of their daughter was their only reward.

Details | Narrative | |

The Outrage

Between the two doors,
one that leads you in and the other  moves you out,
stands this man, shouting at this little girl,
the voice like an autocrat,
and the words come out as easily without a second thought.
The anger of some previous tension, all out on this poor soul whose
smile has turned into a frown, and the colors of the day get dark.
Inside that heart that was away from stress, now someone's anger
rests into hers. Hatred that was on the back burner until now,
is coming to a boiling point, she wants to revert back,
want to say that anger does not solve
problems, things can be taught without that.
No more can she stand this authoritative dominance.
She stands there looking into his red eyes and opens her
mouth finally, word after keep coming out and she goes on without listening,
without anybody understanding, bangs the door and goes out. She had said it all,
the frustration of being the youngest and the forbearance of domination.
Never had the courage come up before, but after waking up
it was unbelievable that it never happened.

Details | Narrative | |

The Falling: part I


Loud noise.

but it was not just noise, no, not to her.
It was the wild cries from the heavens, calling out to her, reassuring her that everything will be ok, that there is somebody out there who understands, who is just like her.
She emerges from her throne, in her cold, abandon dungon, in her lonly, abandon castle where she is kept prisoner. Kept prisoner from her dreams, her temptations, herself.


The scent stunns her.
Memories from her former life proceed to play like a movie in her memory...
a movie that she can not pause, can not forget.
She stumbles, -afraid to move for the thought that this magical moment may dissapear if she becomes too hasty- to her only escape.
Destroying the barriers that stand in her path.

Ice cold.
The tiny rain drops fall from the sky,
releasing her temporarily from her own personal hell.
From judgment.
From criticism.
From the abandonment that overpowers her.

Lifting her pale, desolate face to the sky
she lets the rain wash away...
Wash away the hate
Wash away the pain
Wash away the lonliness
Wash away the end.

She cries.
No one would notice, the rain unselfishly disguises her pain so any on lookers would assume that the moisture is just from the malicious storm.
The wind.
So rude, so loud, whips past her.
Attempting to knock the fragile being to the ground.
But she is strong, stronger than she thinks.
She is not phased by it's attempt.
Mother nature is kind.
The heavens cry out again,
begging the young girl to remember, to be happy.
But she cannot.
She can't breath.
She can't think.
Her heart stopped beating a long time ago.
Stopped dead in her lonly, broken chest,
and the heavens cannot understand why

No one can.
But no ones ever tried.
Suddenly, the vicious winds attack her once more,
this time getting a reaction.
A violent tremmor shakes her body
raising goosebumbps on her skin.
She barely notices.
Her imagination runs free, 
unleashing all her memories, all her former happiness.
They all consist of Him.....

Details | Narrative | |


Stepping through its beaded door
was like walking into a time cloud, 
whiffs of marijuana and hashish pipes
lined up by color in the cabinet 
to the right, behind which stood
a hippie and his girl, with beads
and long hair, who lived in the VW van
parked in the rear, the one 
splattered with colorful peace 
signs like the psychedelic posters 
on their store’s walls, glowing
under the hidden black light. 

Nirvana was a safe haven, 
offering a calm which transcended 
my fifteen-year-old my psyche, 
magnified by the freedom 
to wander through without shoes 
or purchase, unlike the neighboring stores 
on Union Turnpike in the heart of Queens. 

The place exuded the potent energy
of my love generation. I wish 
there was a store like it here  
in my new neighborhood, but I suppose 
I’ll have to settle for the natural health 
food store, which offers the same sort of claim. 

Details | Narrative | |

Music For The Deaf

Once in awhile, I get so low I can feel myself falling faster into the quick sand. In this case, your love is the pit in which I’m sinking. Can you not hear me crying out for help? Because, I swear I can’t do this on my own. I need you to pull me up.. I guess you don’t see that inside I’m all shook up. I’ll be better off without you, that way I can get myself up and dressed out of this mess. You use me for your own good, but what about my sanity? This lovesick melody that I keep singing to is tearing apart the innocence of me. If you can’t see that, then why do I keep on trying to catch up to you? You won’t have to hear about it anymore though, I’m done with what you made me out to be. I’m too good to be set up by a fool like you! You’ll see one day, my dear. This melody that had me dying inside, is nothing more than music to the deaf now! But, don’t worry.. Maybe, one day you’ll see.. Just Don’t come back to me.

Details | Narrative | |


Hopper's painted a sober couple
with an unamorous sentiment;
two lovers with faces too distant,
with hands not touching, not feeling...
just being realistic and sensible,
reflecting on a tomorrow that was coming.

The exterior colors are of a depressing dark,
and the interior ones are mixed with bright
ones...with an ivory tone consuming their sober faces;
why are they staring into nothingness, sensing sadness?
We can't feel what they feel, or hear what they hear,
but their thoughtfulness is as intense as the evening' whisper. 

Theirs was an era when Elvis was the undisputed king,
and his music was played on an old-fashioned record player;
perhaps his blues were the ones they loved to sing,
but the pretty boy from Tennessee was much younger and happier than they ever were,
not wearing a blue t-shirt, brown slacks and a classic hairdo,
and he rode in his red Chrevolet with a style that was envied by everyone in Hollywood. 

Hopper's theme should have been much livelier than this,
not as morose as his summer's evening melancholic portrait;
and who could judge him for expressing himself in a such way?
Perhaps it was a realistic scene he had experienced with his fiancee,
observe the artist's rendition of the unpleasant mood he was in...
and shouldn't have he painted it with a more intimate and amorous sentiment?

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Details | Narrative | |

Rape My Future

I want to hide in the closet
My heart jumps with fear
I wish I wasn't here
The arguing begins to come to an end 
Tears began to escape my eyes
The shadow that locks my view
Is so cruel and devious 
I lock the door in fear 
Of what lurks in the shadows
What lurks beyond that door
The door knob turns with creaks of misery
The thought of what the cruel shadow might do 
Escapes my mind to hide in the dark corners 
Of the world that I was once afraid
Even though I fear the loneliness of the dark
The loneliness of the dark comforts my fears
The door opens in inches like a snake 
Awaiting its next meal like prey in the jungle
The pain makes the breathe escape my lips
The flesh to flesh touch makes my body numb
The rivers flow between thy legs
Where is thy protector?
I should speak for the cruel shadow
That shows me his pain and misery throughout life.
And now
Here I stand underneath the belt of poverty 
Rape my future
An I shall be one with poverties own.

Details | Narrative | |


Running down an empty street
Her feet sore
Crying, she can't stop 
Believe me, she won't
She's hurting
Because of you
Why me, she asks so silently
Why do you do this to me, she whispers in his ear
Then she disappears

Details | Narrative | |

Untitled #51 / "You guys are full of excercise"

“You guys are full of exercise” – nonsense
even after she has finished
scolding Kyle for laying down his head
“Not bored, just sleepy”
I don’t blame him,
Calculus sucks
and now CRAZY Mrs. Howe walks in,
crowing, breathless, sharing new information
buying me time to record the events
but alas! even now we check homework.

Details | Narrative | |


Spent thirty minutes past curfew 
mother's punishment an easy task,nothing new
finish chores when I'm bored
laundry cleaning's evovled from washboards
to cleaners and washer-dryers
the clothing's piled high,higher 
than my height and summer nostalgia's hard to fight
everything stunk with cigarettes,cologne and funk
something reeks...its my usual spot for hide and seek

Growing older my laundry's awful odor fades with age
I read more exercise less
My guess?
I'm gaining the weight of knowledge
yet its eight years until college

Yesterday's clean laundry is today's outfit 
faded nylon shorts,second hand thrift
my brother's birthday gift
snow white t-shirt...brandnew
matching Adidas tennis shoes
matches my favorite team an autographed blue
L.A. dodgers cap severed at the seams
beneath the sock pile and lingerie clutter
is my secret stash kept from my curious brother
at age nine everything is his even if it's mine
but I'm still fair and share
cause childhood's a gentle cycle...handle with care

Details | Narrative | |


A young rogue named Finn
Ran away with an escaped slave,Jim,
Down the river on a raft
On the Mississippi this tale was craft-
Encounters & adventures,fore and aft.

Details | Narrative | |

A fool rushes in

You say you love him
but is it true
or do you believe it is true
I caught him up
you don't believe me
you barely know him
and you are his girlfriend
what happens when
you find out he is cheating
are you gonna take him back
you rushed in a relationship
what do you really know about him
is he really the one
you rushed in too quick
I don't want
you to get hurt
so be careful
and get to know him
and see if he really is the one for you.

Details | Narrative | |

You've got me

Constantly going through my mind. 
What are you doing to me. 
Just to think about it.
I get confused.
Never knowing what you might say.
Or even do. 
If only I could get a glimpse or maybe even just a clue.
Just to show me just what it is that you do. 
Is it that you sweep me off my feet with your tender sweet words.
Or is it that you respect me.
Is it that all the things I do you observe.
Or never look down and neglect me. 
Please tell me just what it is you do.

Details | Narrative | |


I have fear
of walking down the street
afraid of everybody
who comes near
fear is what's wrong
I can't trust anyone
I am afraid to go to work
but I go anyway
I finally learned
how to deal with my fear.

Details | Narrative | |


There is just too much
drama everywhere I go
people talking behind each others back
too much fighting
what happened to the
respectful people
in this world
so much has changed
the drama is getting worse
why can't the drama stop
why does everyone have to fight.

Details | Narrative | |

Lesson 101

You don't have no idea of what I'm going through
I've been through so many trials and tribulations
So don't even pretend or even tell me that you do
I've had my heartaches and many nights of frustration

I've soared and seen my highest high
But been crushed down to my lowest low
I know God got something for me in the sky
And I have many more places to go 

People continue to doubt me time and time again 
But I don't have to prove myself to anybody else just myself and I can win

Oh how I wish people understood me better, 
But it seem I have not yet found none
My life is not a fairytail at all

Welcome to Misunderstood Lesson 101

Details | Narrative | |


Burning wide black shaded eyes
squint,steal a blurred glimpse
and shut as stinging tears
mixed with facial muck smear

Gazing in the bathroom mirror
my eyes teared honey lime until my vision became clearer
and the world became visable 
sacred nightly ritual's
side effects of cheap sweet generic mess

Late night I gently applied honey lime
into fines lines , obvious signs of progressive aging
my taste in cheap facial care's always changing

The past proved new
generic solution unremoved
stick like crazy glue

There're awful goup imitations
causing severe skin irritations
they stricken faces with moles,
rashes and skin blotch discolorations
that clash with social circles
some are inexpensively hurtful

I tried to remove the sooth skin peel
sticky as glue as it congealed
my bleeding skin healed slow
and now blond peach fuzz grows
over healing scrapes,scratches,bruises,rashes
sores and blemishes it seems its side effects are endless

Heavy mascara and fake sunshine smiles 
are the safest fashion style 

Details | Narrative | |


I passed the test
But failed
I ran the mile
But walked
I screamed
But remained unheard
I was quoted

Details | Narrative | |

Second rate beauty queen

When you look at her you wonder,
How can she think like that?
But when she looks at herself in the mirror,
All she sees is the fat.

She claims that she's too busy,
With friends, work, and school.
To sit down for a family meal,
But in reality she simply longs to be cool.

As days go by her body begins to wear and thin,
Her parents begin to wonder if it's too late.
To save their only daughter,
Who's still obsessed with her weight.

Knowing it was time, she left a note that said:
"To all those who were so mean,
And pressured me to be thin. You'll be happy to know,
I died as I lived: A second rate beauty queen.

Details | Narrative | |

Untitled #269 / On the day I saw evil

On the day I saw evil
I rode my bicycle down to the graveyard at the foot of Concord Hills, 
the very one that I had passed every morning going to school,
returning home in the afternoon, sometimes taking note
but never sparing a second thought
and I walked among the dead, even talked to some of them
as the sun fell below the horizon and their spirits rose again to the surface.
“Turn back,” said the older ones, “You’ve still got youth on your side.
Live your life until God calls you home”
But I couldn’t hear them. I only saw the pale and silent 
ghost of a young lady, my age when she died,
her bud of life trampled before it could ever bloom,
alone at the top of a hill under a willow tree
dressed in a moonlight gown pure as pallid skin.
I sprinted up the hill, screaming “Why? 
Why? Tell me why!”
afraid her spirit would quit this plane
as quickly as her life had left the earth.
Her thin lips formed not a word, but her ashen, unblinking eyes
staring straight to the bottom of my soul
told me all I needed to know.
I left the place and never returned,
for there will be time enough for us to get acquainted
when we are all sleeping together.

Details | Narrative | |

Vignette-FAT BOY,DIM

Billy Bunter was a lad
Before fast-food became a fad
Ever ready to pass the buck,
Overweight,down on his luck-
Decided to 'borrow' his school mates'  tuck.

Details | Narrative | |

The numb arm

My arm is getting numb with every slice.

I'm standing in a pile of blood.

I am thinking if i need to quit.

If i need to but the blade down.

I can't feel my arm,

or the warm tears that are hitting my arm.

All I see is the blood all over the floor and my arm.

All I feel and the warm tears going down my face.

Details | Narrative | |


Im writing this poem, it's not coming from heart. 
Im writing from boredom, uhh.. where do I start?
My day has been boring, the night not looking too great.
My body's too tired, though my minds quite awake. 
I slept all day long, it was an honest mistake. 
I’m checking my email, no messages will come. 
For it's late in the night, and no one is on.
And yet I keep checking, cause there always could be,
Another lame person, who’s bored just like me. 
Boredom is constant, it must live in the air. 
Cause its impossible to have fun, when boredom is there. 
I think I am tired, cause this poem won't flow. 
And I really am bored, which by now you all should know. 
So I guess it's that time, I'll just go to bed. 
No point of staying online, not much more to be said. 

Details | Narrative | |


Serenaded silence
Under blushing sun
Swinging hands holding
Flowering love
Fledgling fingers 
Jousting to arrhythmic beats
Summer soliloquies
Too shy to fluently speak
Sweet somethings
Whispered in ticklish ears
Swirling sentiments
Searching to endear
Grown-up glances
Alternating until one
Longing lips converging
Under blushing sun

Details | Narrative | |

The Missing Socks

I could not find a pair of socks
To wear to school today
And if I missed the bus again
There would be hell to pay

I thought that I looked everywhere
I looked inside my drawer
I checked a bag from last week’s lunch
In the corner on the floor

I found some change inside my jeans
I found some chewed gum too
I found a sock that I had left
balled up inside a shoe

And when I went to put it on,
I realized something sad
The hot pink sock just did not match 
My uniform of plaid

My mother called from down the stairs
“The bus is almost here
You really better hurry up
And get your butt in gear!”

And as I searched the house, I thought 
“Oh man, I’m really dead”
Then suddenly it came to me,
There are socks beneath my bed

I climbed the stairs so quickly
I was almost out of air 
I put my socks on really fast
And briefly brushed my hair

I grabbed my hat, my pack, and coat
And I was out the door 
But when I got onto the bus
My jaw dropped on the floor

For even though I made the bus 
(And with no time to lose) 
I shuddered with embarrassment
I was not wearing shoes

Details | Narrative | |

They Took His Pulse

They Took His Pulse _ _ _ _
Now, they’re Looking for Us
Up and down the Street
Drive-By-Boys …. Packin’ Heat !

We Dissed’ A Gang-Sign
They Took… What was Mine
Left a Blood-Soaked Message
On A Pain Wracked-Package

… Is He Breathin’ ?
… or is He Leavin’ _ _ _ _
If He is… Then He Must _____
‘Cause They Took His Pulse

They Took His Pulse
Which left Us  Furious
Gotta’ Let em’ Know, We’ Serious
Do Somethin’ – Delirious

… We gon’ Take They Pulse !
Gon’ do something Perilous !
So – Infamous  !
… we took each other’s pulse _ _ _ _

Details | Narrative | |

To the spigot, to the Spider

At sunset one summer evening I stepped outside to enjoy
the summer evening’s sunset and water the garden plants that were
dying in the draught. So I made my way towards the hose spigot at the
back of the house, and as I marveled at 
the purple sunset
a dark writhing Figure appeared before my eyes, eclipsing the sun
and stopping me dead in my tracks.
It was not a dragon. It was not a Ringwraith. It was a Spider, a huge Spider,
busily at work crafting an enormous web two yards across, spanning the forest to 
the bushes,
His labor diligent and instinctual like that of a master craftsman.
There I stood, marveling at Its pained yet natural movements, wondering when
some bird or wasp would descend upon the Thing
and rip out the Ugliness from the otherwise
perfect scene. But when I shifted my point of view
and the Spider no longer tarnished the backdrop of the sunset
I noticed It disappeared into the shadows around It
and would have been invisible to all but the
sharpest of eagle eyes. And as I blustered through an invisible strand of the 
exciting the Demon even further, I knew
that the Thing must go. But how?
I knew how. I would give to It the same thing that I meant to give the garden 
for no terrestrial creature can long withstand the force of water.
So I unscrewed the spigot, marched around the other side of the house to grab 
the hose,
and walked back to the spot where I spotted the Spider.
But in my absence the Spider, too, had taken Its leave
and I wondered if Nature was not made for men 
to marvel at, or if in those moments
Nature does but laugh at us.

Details | Narrative | |

Determined Black Girl

In school by herself,
Working and talking with nobody else.
All alone in this worl’
Is a young black girl.

She is ignored and mistreated,
by the teachers and students alike.
If people see her they judge her,
and spray paint profanity on her bike.

She's still happy.
Determined that her dreams will come true.
Fearing nothing but fear itself,
this girl is angry at nobody but herself.

Angry, angry, angry.
Because of being a woman.
Because of the color of her skin.
But, yet this girl is determined to win.

She takes no stress and tries her best.
Not because she's a black woman
that wants to have fun,
But because she is determined to be someone.

Details | Narrative | |


Tea with Gran,her muffins supreme,Bath and change and hair brylcreamed.Stroll 
into town to the pub in the square, our gang always met there.Checking the football in the 
Oxford 'green un'.Trad jazz with Donegan,Bilk or Collier or maybe the ballroom 
bacchanalia.Skip,hip-hop or jive or more sedately to the Friday Five.A swift half of cider in 
the Bodega bar,happily none of us could afford a car.Dropping a shilling in  the snug juke 
box,choosing Haley and Elvis,then unorthodox.Bought tickets for the coming live shows,Eddie 
Cochrane,Cliff and Shadows.Later, the last waltz ,about to begin,if you were fancied ,it 
showed in her coy grin.Requesting a date took a little courage,so glad my choice that day,led 
to marriage.

Details | Narrative | |

Untitled #88 / Empty Pentagon

Late summer, late afternoon
in front of the empty Pentagon
the protest is over, nothing’s changed,
I’m walking home. But a young man,
black, blue jean jacket, buttons
passes in front. A smile exchanged.
The truth is known.

Details | Narrative | |

You Are The Reason

She pulled up in front of her daughters Jr. High, it was
time for practice to be over, and go home for the night.

She saw in a distance her daughter walking with friends,
smoke was trailing, and blowing in the wind.

"I know I am not seeing this, she has been told," said mom,
"this is the last time, so now her twirling will have to go."

The fit she pitched could be heard for miles,
but  her mom was determined to punish her child.

"OK mom, we must have a truce," 
"for I'm doing exactly the same thing,you do."

How do you punish, and expect results,
if you are the reason, she picked it up.

Details | Narrative | |

One On One

Men will fight, now that's a fact,
some have friends to watch 
their back.
One on one is how it should be,
not two to one, or so on, you see.
I had boys, and I know so well,
sometimes their actions,
will land them in jail.
You try so hard to raise them right,
but boys will be boys, and they will fight.
Posting bond, and questions galore,
why did you do that, they just stared
at the floor.
I'm a believer, in defending yourself,
but it's one on one, and nobody else.
My boys were rowdy, and their fuse
was short, they found out fast, don't 
take it to the street, this they learned,
when they had their day in court. 
Now they love peace, not rolling on the
ground, I lived through it all, raising two
boys in my town.

Details | Narrative | |

Yearbook for the Blind

Silence has taken it’s toll on me
A breeze sifts through the light fabrics of my shirt
Stalling time
In the yearbook for the blind.

Creeping upon me is the quiet of the air
Forever captured in never-ending scenery
The soft daylight reaching through to the reader’s sensitive fingertips
Miniature lush green leaves of miniature trees forever held in place.

I stand frozen in a memory
Smiling an anxious smile
Cooly hooking my thumbs with the belt loop
In a yearbook for the blind.

Details | Narrative | |

Another Sleepless Night

I’m too tired to sleep
So I’ll sit here and write,
trying to make the night go away,
and turn into day
As the words are flowing,
Time is slowly ticking by
My tired eyes can barely see the screen,
but Sandman won’t come and send me into a dream
There’s no relief in sight
I’m stuck here writing,
trying to pass another sleepless night

Details | Narrative | |

Fall Creek Falls

Fall Creek Falls and
ripples out and
gives birth to a
million mosses.

Mystical flora 
rises dozens of 
meters around us and
the trees’ whispering 
leaves bestow shade
even as blades of grass
shroud an ant army.

Boulder juts out
side of mountain
Father Time’s
furtive and wrinkled
and weathering
majestic face of granite
broad, turned boldly
against blue sky.

Sticks for hiking zigzag
across trail paths winding
to the cascades, and the falls
underfoot roots and pebbles
around Nature’s blooming 
Springliness. And crossing 
a jungle twine bridge over 
cascades gushing floodwaters.

Mind-numbingly soft
limpid, yet colder than ice
my goosebumps shake
to the pitter-patter water rhythm.

Memories are already desires
in the evergreen tree sea.

Details | Narrative | |

Untitled #6 / The boy

The boy heard the familiar tune
wafting through the radio at midnight
as he lay alone in his bed, enshrouded
in darkness – “to be a rock and not erode”
cautioned the singer, but the boy
could not help but wonder
who his girl was making love to that night
and he could not help but cry.

Details | Narrative | |

High Experience

We sat in a room. 
A bedroom, a messy one. 
One with a mixture of clothes, garbage and drugs scattered everywhere. There 
was random writing on the walls, like grafitti, and the paint was chipping. We sat 
mostly in silence, we knew what was going to happen that night. When he arrived 
we got into the van and he introduced us to his stash. 
We got to the highschool commons. It was a giant building with tall ceilings, 
giant pillars, and big glass windows, and it had no supervision inside. Before 
going inside we smoked some hash outside. There had to be at least 400 
people there. The room had flashing lights, loud music, and teenage wreckage 
everywhere. The people were forming a kind of mosh; their arms flinging and 
they screamed to see if they could out-roar the music. 
The effect was deafening. Nearly all the stash-ridden tables were smashed to 
the floor, so we hurried to the only stnading one left. He dumped his stash on the 
The lights plus the music plus the emotion made you want to dig into the stash 
and join the mosh. That's what we did, but we didn't join the mosh right away. We 
sat around the table and watched the masacre, finding it overly amusing. We 
laughed at mearly everything as the acid took it's effect. I finally got up to mosh. 

Everything wanted your body in, and it had already stolen your voice, for you 
couldn't hear yourself scream. Before I could get my feet off the ground, I couldn't 
help but notice that there were people making out everywhere, as they moshed. I 
laughed at them, but was jelous. 
I started kissing someone, unsure of whether or not it was a guy or girl. We 
stripped off our clothes until we were nearly naked, but then he/she backed away. 
They rejoined the mosh. 
I stood still, and the mosh parted before me leading me to the glass wall. I 
walked, barefoot, to where it stood surprisingly clean. I took the object in my hand 
and smashed the gleaming wall, screaming with the music. The crowd cheered 
and roared until my ears were ringing and I was nearly deaf. I moshed into the 
middle of the mosh and everyone jumped to my rhythm. I felt hundreds of eyes 
watching me, so I closed my eyes and let my body go. He/she found me again, 
and kissed me again, and the masacre disappeared. Eventually so did whoever I 
was kissing.

Details | Narrative | |


My age I don't have to say, 
you will know when you read
the words of my favorite days.
So long ago, now they seem,
but I got to live, the American dream.
The football games, and riding the
bus, those were special, I loved them
so much.
Rolling yards, only people we liked, 
they were our favorites, a beautiful
Weekends were special, we could stay out late,
playing cards, and just talking, for the ones
that didn't have a date.
Our curfew was eleven, now we better not be
late, because on the porch with the light on,
my parents did wait.
Memories of the past, they'll live in my heart,
these are such treasures, I love every part.

Details | Narrative | |

A Letter From Meth

(A letter from Meth, 
You don't know me, only what I can do,
I am the devil, I am living with you.
I guide your children to play with fire,
you can tell when I'm needed, that helpless
I am not pretty, and I'll destroy their health, and
don't think for a minute, I care about those
tears you wept.
I can't get enough of sharing myself,
even for free, then they'll need me.
I know you stay up, and wait for them at night,
I'll never leave, without giving you a fight.
Families don't mean a thing to me,
hooked is all I care about, you'll see..
Running in flocks they all do the same,
calling me daily, Meth is my name.
Weight falling off, that hollow stare,
don't really care about what they wear.
News is on the street, I heard today,
a grave is being dug for someones baby to lay.
I mean business, don't mess with me,
I am out for money, and I am greedy.
Remember I warned you, I told you all about me,
now it's your turn, open your eyes, and see.

Details | Narrative | |

Hey Vince

Hey dear Vince, thanks for the glimpse,
back in time, nothing like it since.

Yes, we were very lucky to be here back then,
but do you remember, the fashion trend.

I can remember the skating rink,
this was the best possible dating link.

Lights turned low, and the music got slow,
the floor cleared out for the couples, you know.

Lovers Lane up high on the peak,
listening to the radio, and cuddling was neat.

The Drive-In was hip, everyone piled in your car,
sitting on the hood, wishing on a star.

Hot dogs on a stick, and marshmallows too,
spin the bottle walking two by two.

We had such fun, living in that time,
gone forever, staying only in our minds.

So thank you Vince for your trip into the past,
too bad it went by, way to fast.

Details | Narrative | |

I Thought You Cared

You said you loved me
That you cared about me
But it was all a lie
You never loved me
And you never really cared
All you wanted was to take advantage of my innocence
I trusted you
I thought you had changed your ways
That’s why I went for a walk with you
And that's why I let him leave
You started to kiss me
I was ok with that
You slid your cold hand into my pants
I told you to stop
You didn’t listen to me
I jumped back with fear in my eyes
You pulled me close to your warm body
The next thing I know I’m on the cold, damp ground 
The sent of fresh cut grass all around me
Feeling your body on top of mine
I weekly whisper for you to stop
Once more you didn’t listen to me
Never really thinking 
Of how I would feel inside