Exclusive Ink

Category: Poetry

  • INDIANA

    by JAMMONICA

    Being near the monument downtown. The monument has soldiers and horses. It’s very pretty during Christmas time. The monument is tall and it’s right in the middle of downtown close to the mall. The lights on the monument are pretty and bright, and it stands out for some people to take pictures. The lights on the big tree explode with color. It’s as big as Ted Mosby’s nose. The feeling of Christmas time is peaceful and joyful. And being on the streets is sometimes that way and sometimes not. Because it’s loud and cold. Like being in music. When it snows it’s so amazing but it’s worse but you’re amazed by the snowflakes.

  • MUSIC

    by CURTIS

    Music means the world to me; it gives me chills as I listen
    It has the greatest value in my life like diamonds as they glisten
    Music is a part of me; without it I don’t exist
    It’s always by my side and in my head as I reminisce
    It comes in all emotions, influences the way we act
    Everyone can relate to a song, and that’s a fact
    Without it my life is empty like a random dumpster in a crowded plaza
    And without it my life is fake like Jay-Z and Beyonce’s daughter

    Music means the world to me; it gives me chills as I listen
    It hooks me and reels me in like a country man going fishing
    Music is a way of life, a way of swag and culture
    It leaves me at the end of the day flying high like a vulture
    I listen day in and day out
    Whenever I have headphones in I want people to stay out

  • PUZZLED (SHATTERED)

    by KEITH

    The impacted hand shattered like glass with
    the loud crunching sound of a potato chip
    with the wild static pain sent through the
    nerves sending a frenzy of spasms evenly through the
    whole arm
    his eyes swallowed by tears but are held back like
    the Hoover Dam
    His heart pulsating as that of a rabid rabbit feeding on
    a fleeing carrot
    With the mind engulfed in rage as a saber tooth
    tiger in a tar pit
    Blood tackling the floor with a loud echo like a
    jackhammer’s banging voice pierces his ear
    The animalistic instinct drives his porcelain-like hand
    into the remorseless apparatus
    By the cause of a heartless father who bruises him
    the eye’s dam shatters
    For the sixteen-year-old is really a fragile five-year-old
    though his breakdown shows

  • WHEN IT HAPPENED

    by A.J.

    I heard the bone breaking
    in my friend’s arm. As I watch
    him walk bent over away I see his
    disfigured arm dangle away
    bouncing off his side.

  • BREAKFAST

    by A.J.

    Waking up to sizzling bacon on a Saturday
    morning makes me aroused like sunshine burning
    in my eyelids. I can imagine the taste
    of the bacon and the smell the grease and
    the pop of it. My stomach rumbles in anticipation.