Here he comes! They all say, anticipating fantastical antics.
He does not disappoint. Pushes his head into the fish tank.
Shakes broken cracker crumbs onto an unsuspecting partygoer,
Leads the room into spontaneous dancing. Lifts his shirt to show his flab.
The others come out from the kitchen, recognizing that he is here.
He is doing his best to dazzle them, to make them smile, to keep them laughing.
They are grateful he has finally arrived. The party was a dud up until now.
Do you think someone should take him home? Someone offers six hours later.
There are no volunteers. He has no friends, only spectators.
He is the ultimate party animal, yet, none have been to his house.
He spent his life becoming a comic entertainer for solemn stuffed animals.
He falls asleep on the couch, and they tiptoe around him.
The next party it all begins again. They lie in wait, wishing he would hurry.
It is dull until he arrives. They keep looking at the door expectantly.
No one fills a room with laughter as fast as he does.
Alas, he is not coming. He committed suicide by hanging an hour before.
Categories:
partygoer, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Prose Poetry
Delivered from the bowels of the ancient tombs of Pharaohs forgotten
The steampunked chest plated falcon loving gatekeeper approached
We were fearful of his neon green glance and psychedelic war paint.
He was not your typical partygoer. It did not take a genius to see this.
Dragon like feelers in a moon pattern were part of his body’s armor.
Intimidated, we stopped dancing and started to look for exits.
An evil eye neck plate with falcon-like attitude stopped us in our tracks.
Where is Gyemaster? He asked. Voice compelled us to stay in place.
We obediently allowed him to scan us with is eyes, one by one.
Satisfied, he moved to an eager young giggling female freshman.
She stopped moving, was dead silent now; her face glowed orange.
You know him don’t you? He asked her in a hologram way.
She nodded and he led her from the party as you would lead a donkey.
If this had been any other guy, we would have resumed dancing.
Instead we wandered off to our houses to cower and hide.
Frightened by a falcon loving gatekeeper from beyond the future.
Categories:
partygoer, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Prose Poetry