FIRE DRILL
On September 15, 2013
by KARETTA
Today we had a fire drill. All you heard was sirens everywhere and maniacs running around for nothing. It was a total catastrophe and cacophony. People kept asking rhetorical questions like “What’s going on?” Then all of a sudden we heard a loud BOOM! Everything got quiet. Then someone fell on the concrete and popped their bone out of place. I guess they thought if they fall it will be like feathers and cushions, but they thought wrong. I started getting hot and sweating a lot. I started walking past people after we could go back in. They were all lovey-dovey and calling each other baby, and when I turned around they started sharing saliva. I got grossed out after that.
Tagged with: karetta
ALL THE WHILE
On September 15, 2013
by PAULA
The tintinnabulation of popping sparks
brought life to the fireplace,
but, eventually, everything becomes engulfed
by the pressure of the flames
and the embers settle.
Don’t be stuck inside when the fire
runs low, and you’re fed up of tending
to the inevitable decline.
Your arms grow tired, and
Gas prices grow higher
Get out before time runs out.
Spin around and blow bubbles—
calico ones, ones that don’t pop under pressure.
Do the impossible, because under enough pressure,
even graphite can turn into diamonds
So bibbityboppityboop,
here’s a carriage to ride away in,
instead of being held back
by the pressure of having to tend
to those flames that died light-years ago.
Tagged with: paula
BIRTHDAY
On September 7, 2013
by KENYETTA an JENNY
It was a radioactive night at the hospital. It was 2 in the morning. My cousin was having a baby. We were at the hospital all day. We were tired of waiting. I was sleepy and cold. My mom and her friend wanted to go to the store. So we all get outside and figure that my mom’s friend lost her parking ticket. Then we get to the parking lot and also figure that she lost her car. I was so sick of waiting at this point, I was angry. She then starts asking me mom questions like “Do we have a clue where she parked her car?” I’m like how in a bagel’s hole are we supposed to know? We didn’t show up with her. So after walking around so many times, it was now 2:45. She then decides to ask the police for help. I then felt cooled off like ice cream hit me.
With arguments ringing in my ears, the officer asks what car we’re looking for. The best answer we could muster was the car from the One Direction commercial. With this, the officer lost his interest in our issue and flew off, figuratively speaking of course.
Ice cream sounds so good right now, I need something cold in my system. I’m getting heated with all this crap. Then we saw a McDonald’s and it was a saint to me.
SLEEP-DEPRIVED
On September 7, 2013
by KENYETTA and JENNY
I’m sleep-deprived with drooping eyes,
Stacking boxes high
While sweat accumulates
Within the goggles and gloves
That strangle my skin.
A sweet cry interrupts the sick monotony of
Growling machines surrounding me.
After waking at 4 in the morning,
A melody and a bagel is all I need
To retain my sanity.
But I had an argument with my bed
Earlier that morning. I didn’t want to
Wake up. But it’s all cool.
I just ate a wonderful bagel. That melody.
On that melody, oh my One Direction.
Those boys sound of ice cream, so sweet
But cold. They say they know what makes me beautiful,
But they sing to every other girl out there too.
Still, they are my saints, my flame.
CAN YOU REMEMBER
On September 6, 2013
by ZURI
Can you remember those first words
that the
brand
new poet spoke, bright eyes
wide
as she looked
at you
and tried to explain
herself?
She’s just searching
for
real
in the
abyss
of
lies that lay
down
with her
before bed
and wake
with her
every day.
Did you
remember
what she said?
The words she blew across the room
hopefully
something
she said
landed
on your
skin
or
got under it.
Maybe
the way
she took
time to
break
words
apart
or the tears that
might
have slipped
when she
told
you about
her past, or what
she hoped
for in the future
or the shit
she deals with now.
And who is she to hope
that telling you
what
she feels
in
encrypted lines
will make a difference?
Why should you
be the judge
of a new poet
standing in front of what might as well be an
empty room?
I guess
it doesn’t matter
because it is up to you.
Are you
gonna give this poet
what she needs?
To breathe easy,
to plant new seeds?
Or are you planning to pass her off?
New poet
needs a new future.
Are you ready?
Because I am.
Tagged with: zuri
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.
