by BRION

Just like me
All that I see
Is fruit growing from a tree

The fruit is red
Is has seeds
Smells so good
It attracts bees

But it wasn’t always red
First green then yellow
Changes like emotions
Always stuck in the middle

Its expected to be so much
From the oranges and lemons
But that’s not fair man they know no limits

They send a light breeze
That hit the leaves of the tree
I knew the messages spoke to me
So I sang my abc’s
Hoping it had heard me
Let go of your expectations
And be set free.

The tikis dance around the fire
As the grass sways east to west

Celebrating Brion
Who passed his final test
To be a man who his only goal
Play with rain, while he grew old
Tempted by snaked that snuck up so quiet
Staring at birds, they’re flyin’

by TYLYN

Well, I know how to write
You’re seeing that, right?
And my drawing is…”cute.”
But I can’t play a flute.
I’ve a few more kills too
Thought they’re nothin’ new.
So I stand back,
And they think it is a voice that I lack.
Then I listen,
As my eyes glisten.
Absorbing detail like a sponge,
Into my head, thoughts lunge.
The films of history rewinding
With tales that are spellbinding.
Playing in my mind’s eye,
Giving me the feeling of an oncoming sigh.
So no, there’s nothing to smell or taste…
And yet, the knowledge isn’t a waste.
In the shadows, observe.
Let wisdom, the stories, hit a nerve.
I don’t know very much,
But the world will be in your grasp with such
Hush….

by BRION

Once upon a time, in a far away place there lived a young lady that went by the name of Watermelondrea. The people in her gang, well, only the one’s about that life called her Drea. One day she was picking out her clothes for a party down the street. Then suddenly, her mom busts in the door. “Aye lil girl, I got yo hair.” Excited Drea screams, “YASSSSS.” They proceeded to do her hair. “Yesss. I’m about to turn up.” After they finish adding all 144 inches, the mother realizes something. “Did you finish your homework.” “Momma I have to do two essays, I don’t have time.” That’s your problem. You not going till you finish your homework.” “UGH!”

Thirty minutes later, she gets a call from the oh-so-amazing Nick. “Hey where are you? I’m at your door.” Sorry but I’m grounded. I can’t go.” “Sneak out.” “I can’t I’m on the 3rd floor.” “Then I’ll come to you.” “How? You can’t come in without her knowing.” “Girl it’s okay, just let down your hair.” “Are you crazy I just got this done.” “But I love you. I want to see you.”

Should I? she thinks, It’s just hair I can buy more right? I am in love with him after all. Nah, Ima just go to bed. Goodnight.

by TYLYN

A boy, this teenager goes down his driveway Satanic flag in hand, gangster looking, mix-matched and punk like, his mother says, “HEY!” Called to a stop, he turns to the smell of cooking. His mother adjusts the blood bandana on his face, after putting down his lunchbox, apple and coffee. She tells him, “Stay safe. Don’t be stupid, and I love you.” The usual case. He signs saying, “Likewise.” And takes everything, ya see. Going back into her home, with a thought, as her baby-boy-turned-young-man goes to destroy the world. “All I have to do is keep trouble from gettin’ him caught,” she thinks. His generation is a mess. Evil flag unfurled. She continues to watch from that window with a smile. On the phone with a homegirl complaining about his file.

by VERMEESHA

Every morning before I leave for work, I make my bed, fold up the laundry and straighten my pictures on the wall. Yes, every morning I have to straighten my pictures. I live in a crooked house. And I am a crooked man. I have a crooked nose and a crooked hat. I live in a crooked house with a crooked roof. I have a crooked life. When I go to work, I’m supposed to sell ladybugs with black spots. But this year, all the black spots. But this year, all the black spotted ladybugs ran off to Mexico or some other place. So all I’m left with are lady bugs with dark red spots. And nobody wants a dark-red spotted ladybug. So everyday when I go to work, I have to paint little black spots on all my ladybugs. And sometimes, my customers come in mad because their pet ladybugs lost their black spots. And then I have to lie and say it’s because it’s cold, and the spots faded away. And there’s nothing I can do about the weather. When summer comes, so will the spots. So now I have to wait until summer to hear hundreds of complaints about sick ladybugs with no spots in the summertime. One day, people are just going to go out and catch their own ladybugs. And I’ll be stuck in a crooked room with crooked paintings and a crooked roof with a crooked nose and a crooked hat with no way to pay for the crooked house.

by MAE

My body wrapped in cloth,
Vision wrapped in flesh but
I can still see. It’s light outside.

Bare soles on wet soil, the petals,
The sun kiss, cactuses and red wine.
I am safe at last, cradled in nature’s arm.

But the hour becomes a whisper, then
A murmur, then a shout for paradise
Is not eternal. Everything turns to liquid.

by LYNAE

Once upon a time in a run-down apartment in urban Indianapolis, a family of three lived. There was a father and his two children, Howard and Grethen. However, their father was never home and his kids were always hungry. An elderly woman  — she told all the neighbors to call her “Grandma” — had been living there for only a few months when she found out they hadn’t been getting enough food. She was appalled by the discovery, y’know how grandmas are.

“You hungry kids?” she asked them, so sweetly the children thought they tasted honey in their mouths.

“Yes,” Howard said, “All we have are Ramen noodles. The chicken ones.” Gretchen nodded her head in agreement.

Still, Grandma smiled. “Come over for dinner around six, kids,” she told them. “I’ll cook you a real nice meal.”

That night, she made the kids a delicious meal of turkey, yams, baked macaroni and cheese, stuffing, and cranberry sauce. The kids only ate like that once a year during Thanksgiving. It was July! For the next few weeks, the kids came over for dinner every night. Their father thought it was a nice gesture and it was less he has to worry about. At least, that’s what he thought.

by PEYTON

A land unknown
No one fully understands
Is it everything you could imagine
Or the opposite
Do you become everything
Or do you disappear completely
This land is unsuitable
But do you truly understand it
Will the song continue to play
Or is this where the song stops?

by TATIANA

One December 22, 1945 they took away my sanity one grenade at a time. “What do you mean took it away? Going to war was a choice?” asked Doctor Bogat. “They took it away. War wasn’t a choice and it never will be!!!” says Lieutenant Sager. The unrealistic feeling of what was happening blew me away. Lieutenant Sager served in a war for the American people but got his arm blown off during multiple explosions. He began to have symptoms of PTSD. As people realized that he was hurt more severely than just a blown off arm they put him in an insane asylum. “So depression began to strike over you?” asked Dr. Bogat. Beep!!!

by BRION

I can’t believe it. My dog ran away. My house burned down, my favorite park is getting destroyed, and I’m sick. But those are okay. What I can’t deal  with is the fact that today is picture day. My hairs a mess, I missed breakfast (no house to cook it with), I have nothing to wear and hardly got any sleep. You know when you’re as tall as I am, sleeping in the backseat of a car can be pretty  uncomfortable. Looks like I should go to the store and buy something to wear. “I want this one miss. The one in baby blue.” The backdrop resembled that of an ocean. I’m getting pumped. I can get a new dog, move somewhere else, get more clothes, but there was only one picture day. I put it on. The shirt is so pretty. There’s an echoing thought that alerts me something’s wrong, but I ignore it. My best friend points out that it’s the cutest SKY BLUE shirt he’d ever seen. I looked down. I hate sky blue. Why is this happening? I let out a scream of sheer and utter disappointment, right as the photographer took the picture.