THIRTEEN WAYS OF LOOKING AT LOVE
by KYLA
I. 13 ways of looking at love.
Through the night and songs from
Above.
II. Turning the pages of starlight,
Unlocking pictures of his might.
A cunning artist at the sea
From now until immensity
III. A treasure chest to conceal a heart,
So none will ever be apart.
The swing, the waltz, the tango,
Reveals a symbolic rainbow
IV. His eyes are gorgeous,
They set me free;
Across my loving memory
V. Like an ember from the sun’s rays
He sets my hear on fire,
It’s love for burning desire.
There’s not one that betrays.
VI. It’s crazy how one feels,
A passion beyond waving teal.
Roses are red, lavender’s violet.
So it is ultra, the steel is now silent.
VII. It’s ineffable what one would do,
To drown, die, or burn because they
Love you.
IX. It’s worth the crime,
Like Bonnie & Clyde.
If theft could pay,
Would you love me?
X. It doesn’t take a glass of wine,
Or a box of chocolates, or
A clock’s chime.
XI. It’s a charisma you can’t resist.
Like a siren’s song, It is bliss.
XII. Jack and Jill will go up the hill
And then they will fall. Yet they
Wont break any bones cuz they had
Fallen in love.
XIII. Now tis last, the dreams enclosed,
A sacrafice and a sweet love notes.
Through the night, songs from above,
Now you know 13 ways to love.
HIDDEN
by CURTIS B
Hidden faced. Hidden in places behind this mask,
nobody understands my pain so don’t even ask
Or bother because of my mask my father
Doesn’t talk to me or his daughter. I hide
My face because of the laughter, the chatter
The burns my ears from the years of all these tears,
My fears, exist no more they’ve been slammed
Shut and locked behind a door.
HOUSE OF A THOUSAND CRIMINALS
by ERIC
A foundation filled with mirages
The steps of the future are decrepit
Fall through with the mistakes made
Turning in different directions
Like a painting with a Picasso setting
A Collage of the past thoughts
Etched into the walls complexion
Try to mirror the foundation
But receive unattainable reflection
The hallways are ongoing
And locked doors open with every lecture
A life lesson learned
in every sector
But taking away with the seepage
From the rotting of the roof
Depleting the blessings
Of the house warming gifts of knowledge
Because of hallucinations embedded
The skeletons inside the closets
Are vexing
Homeowners pay for inspection
Who wants to live in home like this
Vacancy of something so tainted since its inception
Leaves the neighbors so prejudice
Fence in the house from the sidewalk to the alley
So no one ventures to peddle
Near a house filled with a 1000 criminals
We the people ,who do not visit
call prison.
MARIE’S HALLOWEEN
by SIERRA
On 10-29-2013, there was a young woman named Marie, Marie is getting married to her fiancé Luke. Marie has brown-goldish, long straight hair. Her eyes were hazel as a squirrel’s fur. Her eyelashes are long and fluffy as a peacock.
As they said their vows, after she said, “I do.” Luke grabs his sniper gun and points it straight at Marie and says, “I love you” then kills her. Then runs. People screaming, so terrifying.
20 minutes later the doors open, smoke coming out of the outside then a gypsy witch grabs her and takes her to her cabin. She cuts open her body, takes out the lungs, stomach, blood, and more parts and she puts beetles juice in her system. She comes back to life.
She wakes up with a yawn. Marie looks in the mirror and she’s an ugly, barf colored witch. She screams, all windows break.
She goes into VA graveyard and makes some friends a mummy named Lindsey, a vampire named Dessiree, a skeleton named Allie, a glob named Juelina, and a werewolf named Destiny. She told them about her killer Luke and she thirst for revenge.
On Halloween night she found her husband Luke and said, “Hello my pretty, remember me.” He was frightened. She grabbed him and went into his throat and grabbed his spin then squeezed green juice out of his head. He was dead but to make sure she stabbed him in the head then rung his head.
She ran into the street then bang she gets hit by the mean black truck. The truck said death. She woke up as the wicked witch of the West.
DON’T BE AFRAID OF THE FIELD
by KYLA
Long ago, in the early 1990’s, Mark Lawrence bought a house. His daughter Laura accompanied him. She was only 5. When they first moved in. Mark discovered a tribe of people living in the field behind his house. They had a forbidden religion that required the conjuring of Immortal beings.
Mark didn’t like this, so him and his militia slaughtered the people and buried them under the field. Grimm, keeper of the dead threatened to take his life, but Mark offered Laura’s hand to him. He tricked Grimm and trapped him beneath the basement. The entrance was through an old 19 century furnace, which was sealed up…. Until
After 11 years, on Laura’s 16th birthday, Mark moved into the old Lawrence house with his girlfriend Mary, who insisted that it was lovely.
Mark agreed, knowing that no harm could come to them as long as the door to the basement was covered. However, Laura went exploring in the garden when she found a window just barely about the ground. Mary examined it with her and the both of them discovered the basement.
Mary insisted that they find the door to the basement as Mark uncovered it. Laura found herself amused by a collection of her father’s old paintings.
One caught her interest. It was a painting of Grimm, but she didn’t know that. He looked like an ordinary casenova that wore a hooded robe and carried a scythe, “Papa, who is this man?” she asked. Mark jumped at the painting.
“Put that down Laura, it’s cursed.” Laura was still curious. She heard a whisper so charismatic.
“Set me free Laura” said the voice. Laura looked inside the furnace and saw eerie gold eyes set right on hers.
“Who are you?” she asked. “I’m your deepest most desperate desire” it said.
“Let me out Laura; it’s been so long since I’ve seen those beautiful blue eyes” it said.
“Do I know you?” she asked. “Yes, but your memory has faded, since you were a child” it said. Laura began unscrewing the bolts on the furnace.
“Are you a mole?” she asked.
“No. My name is Grimm, and I’m your most desperate desire” he said.
Laura got the grating of the furnace. Her father called her. She bid goodbye to her mysterious friend and went inside. She strolled past the garden were she found some sort of key. She took it and pushed her way through vines and honeysuckle. She came to a field where dark clouds hovered above. Near her was a small stone building like the entrance to a tomb. It had a door that required a key. She opened it with the key she had. She began to go down some steps. “Laura, don’t go in there” her father yelled. Grimm pulled her in and the door closed.
WHO WE ARE
Exclusive Ink is Shortridge High School's dynamic creative writing group. This is the place for our work to glow.WHAT WE DO
We write poems, short stories, essays, and whatever us inspires us. We share our work aloud and support each other.WHY WE WRITE
Because it's freedom. Because it's fun.