Time cannot lessen the joy from fun and family vacations
that ended in September for a new year of education.
At each age, September meant I would get pretty new clothes.
I would shop with Mama who had me try them on and pose.
I liked school's first day until high school fueled a need to preen.
September’s meanings ended when I graduated at seventeen.
A teenager got stopped for speeding.
Said the exasperated trooper aghast:
“Didn’t you see the speed limit?” he inquired?
“No,” said the teen, “it sped by me too fast.”
Anne Frank
sweet
s e
m l
i
diamond HEART
O P E N mind
marrow = Courage
had no ______…. basin
acted with PEN ______
|
|
*
taught about W. A. R. w r i t i n g
generations spiral up
|_____^^ journal again …
d
e
e
p
B—L—U—E s~e~a f»r»e»s»h»n»e»s»s
like the coolness your love b
r
i
n
g
s~
t w o t-e-e-n-a-g-e-r-s in l~o~v~e
left
to
right, the d~~r~~i~~f~~t
however strong the sea W~~
A~~
V~~
E~
true love r
e
mains f~r~e~s~h
I am poor but still want more.
I get a job but still want more.
I go to parties but still want more.
I buy everything but still want more.
I try a hobby but still want more.
I raise a family and don’t need more anymore.
She walks the streets she’s always known,
But feels a longing deep, alone.
A fire burns inside her chest,
To leave, to grow, to find what’s best.
Her heart beats fast when she thinks of far,
Of distant lights and shining stars.
A thousand questions fill her mind—
Will she be lost? Will she be kind?
She dreams of skies she’s never seen,
Of places wild, both calm and keen.
Though scared, she knows she must be brave,
To write her story, to misbehave.
Her roots run deep in desert lands,
But she reaches out with trembling hands.
A Moroccan girl with tears and hope,
Learning how to live, how to cope.
She’ll carry home inside her soul,
While chasing dreams that make her whole.
I know making you less perfect
won’t make me any better
yet I can’t help it
I fabricate your flaws in my head
as if it would make my own disappear
almost as if ruining you
made me any better
…
almost as if making you imperfect
made me as perfect as you
—maybe I should learn to love my flaws instead of obsessing over yours
I call myself a "senior teenager"
(put the two together and you get "seenager").
I have all that I ever wanted as a teenager
- lots of stuff, both minor and major -
I just got it all some fifty years later!
I don't have to go to school
or obey some teacher's rule.
I don't have to go to work
and hear some boss go berserk.
I get an allowance, I have my own pad,
I don't have to put up with a deadbeat dad.
I don't have a curfew, I have my own car;
no one will say squat if I smoke a cigar.
The folks I'm with are really not scared
of getting pregnant or even losing their hair.
The drugs we take are just medication
and definitely not for recreation.
I don't have acne, no sign of a zit.
Life is great, I must admit!
they always ask me to stay a little longer,
as if laughter came from my skin.
as if I could be unlonely
just by making sure no one else is.
I fill the room,
and yet I’m never
in it.
they love me most
in photographs cropped at the waist—
in group chats
where I type like a mirror
and vanish like fog.
I am the pause before the pretty one speaks.
I am the arm wrapped around her waist.
I am the voice that steadies the silence
but never stirs the heart.
boys tell me I’m safe,
like a bed they’ll never sleep in.
they laugh
and I laugh
and my laugh
is a little too practiced.
I know how to fold desire
into a joke
before anyone sees it.
I know how to be background,
the warm blur,
the easy comfort
you never imagine kissing.
and still—
when I cry
it’s always quietly.
as if I don’t want
to make anyone
uncomfortable.
Caught by surprise one sunny day,
a neighbor's friendly voice said "Hi"
as I was passing by
her garden's flower spray.
Upon hearing that simple word,
it came together in that place,
a lovely garden, a pretty face,
and something in my heart stirred.
Kind friend, strangely, it appears
I've gone all silly and soft.
My spirit was borne aloft.
It's been so many years.
'Twas a glad moment of rebirth,
but how can I engage
in love at my old age?
I know I must return to earth.
Yet, for a moment, so insane,
I begged her pardon,
gave a flower for her garden,
and felt teenage love again.
my dad's dad would tell him tales
from the war
so many strangers who fought
stories from ordinary men
who washed up heroes on the shore
he told my father
they were sold a dream
a golden scene
they'd save the world
at only nineteen
but no
that wasn't the case
bullets flew by overhead
like the planes dropping bombs
on unsuspecting nurses
preparing the beds at base
horrific
soul destroying, with men deploying
for politicians trying to save face
horrific
Teenagers are just
Entering the real world with an
Emotional roller-coaster.
Never understood by others,
All they can do is
Grow with hope,
Excitement, sadness, and fury.
Radiating curiosity are some while others
Seem to already have it figured out.
I have grown up
with my mother’s hatred
and my father’s disgust.
I have grown up
In the shadow of my brother
Who couldn’t be anything but perfect.
I have grown up
like a stray
I have grown up
I have survived.
I have grown up
I am alive.
Broken, bleeding and hurt
I have grown up.
Against all odds
I have grown up.
I can almost smell the fresh paint. That isn't possible however. That scent was almost 19 years ago… Butter Yellow was the name on the sample card. Rocking chair. Tiny pink booties.
Stickers hide butter yellow behind princesses, animals, stars, happy faces, everything adhesive. About 50 inches up the walls.. stickers and fingerprints. Giggles echo.
Spray paint and posters. Black light. Neon glow. Butter yellow, mostly invisible. A Disney princess peeks out from behind a band poster. Black clothes with silver chains and safety pins lay on the floor, Saturated in emotion.
Bright Butter yellow patches. Dark splotches where dust clings to sticker adhesive. A scattering of scotch tape with just the corner of a poster stuck underneath.Shapes pressed in carpet. My breathing sounds too loud.
Lifting your suitcase, I shut the door behind me.
I sleep in each day until *noon,
My *mum says I live on the moon,
If I think a day’s good *deed,
Is to *eye a Facebook feed,
Than to *peep outside of my room.
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