Slate (Press)

you are the one in my dark eyes
you are the one in my dark eyes
you are the one in my dark eyes
you are the one in my dark eyes
you are the one in my dark eyes
you are the one in my dark eyes
you are the one in my dark eyes
you are the one in my dark eyes
you are the one in my dark eyes
you are the one in my dark eyes
you are the one in my dark eyes
you are the one in my dark eyes
you are the one in my dark eyes
you are the one in my dark eyes
you are the one in my dark eyes
you are the one in my dark eyes
you are the one in my dark eyes
you are the one in my dark eyes
you are the one in my dark eyes
you are the one in my dark eyes
you are the one in my dark eyes
you are the one in my dark eyes
you are the one in my dark eyes
you are the one in my dark eyes

Autumn (Bless)

Autumn is the smell of pumpkins,
dry leaves, pies.
It's warm scarves and light jackets.
It's walking home instead,
going out of your way
to crunch that extra crackly leaf.
It's raking, and carving,
and ringing doorbells.
It's decorations, costumes,
and tables full of family,
warm food, long chilly nights,
and always, that little hint of
snow.

Magnetic Class Poem Fun (Bless)

(For those of you that forgot, these are the two poems we created in class at the beginning of the year. Enjoy!)
1
different music is love
whispers for you
we jump and fly believing
every dream is more
to wish by a special thought
at night always together family of friends

2
we are happy together boy and girl talk
blue music winds and butterfly love
always wants summer as a dream garden
different thoughts glow
you are home friend
believe magic wishes bring morning
I see all
but my lightest day is dark
and the moon she is a whisper to every bird
imagine
jump out yellow window

Stained Glass (Press)

I think
that afternoon
I shattered away
into luminous bits
some flew into your eyes
and glimmer there, shy
when I look at you
I thought I recognized
someone I knew
that night
it flashed within,
as lightning revealing
a tree's slight shadow
I knew
and instantly forgot
consciousness transcended, maybe
up through winking stars
when I glanced
at forgotten fragments
strung together
in your glassy gaze

Wither (Press)

inside me
lie things unresolved
things unconcluded

let my mind fall
into a forbidden place

land softly in memories
lie quietly on desires

shoved back so far
you cannot convey them to anyone
they prevent you from interacting properly
if you become engrossed in these
you will die

you'll lie there
waiting, wasting, withering away
for something that will never come

these are things you know
you're not supposed to think about
things you're not supposed to want
but they're there

and all you can do is write
meaningless and empty poems that don't come close to explaining anything
words to describe what happens there do not exist

and your frustration at all these dead ends
builds up into an intense fury
that amounts to nothing

all you can do is live your life
with those emotions existing covertly under the surface
constantly, constantly, always there

ripping, gnawing, biting at your soul

Sleep (Press)

Absence
begins to
cry in my
dead
ear, into which sounds
fall, a pit of
gravel, each
He a small note in the
I chord
jangles with
kicking violence
lets
meaning flow
nebulously
out like
platonic blood. The
question
resounds in cacophonous
song,
teetering on
unlawful
voice's
wistful precipice.
Xylophones pound
you out in a
zephyr fallen.

The Guardian

I see all that you see. I hear all that you hear. I feel all that you feel. I am the Guardian here to listen and aid you. Finding yourself through my guidance, becoming what you are meant to become.

Debris (Press)

I see myself floating
on the air's palm
enveloped in still clarity
serene sparkling
nothingness

The rain is the thought
of shining blue
it hangs and yields
to the motion of the sun

Tears remain inarticulate
in my tranquil quiet
they fall like leaves forgotten
to the dead twig of a smile.

Autumn (press)

I've lost my way in a forest of trees
somehow, somewhere, someones chasing after me
the smells so sweet
the air so fine
oh how I wish these all were mine
the dark figure approaches
and I'm just standing there taking it all in
how wonderful it was
in my last moment of life
no sadness, no grieving, not even strife
then as quick as I enter here
I exit
my body stays
but my spirit goes
to even a more beautiful place
as fast as the autumn leaf blows

Silence (press)

No one listens
to me
it's quiet
I'm screaming
" Somebody hear me! "
silence
somebody needs to hear me
crying
somebody
needs to listen
insted of shutting me out
silence
another day gone
silence

On the wind

Soft wind blows remembering the past that was once in grasp
Calling on the wind
Come back to me
Come back to my love
Come back for me
In soft words that none can translate
Ancient tongue of old
Riddled in song that only soft voiced of the old posses
Come back come back
And remember the times of old

A Curse

Lost without hope for the soft touch of death
Consumed by the monster you are
Unable to resist
And then
Nothing
You see nothing
Nothing ahead to look for
No hope for an end Nothing
to stop you from it
Nothing to hold you back
Nothing to make amends for what you have done

It's just a game

you look at me with deep blue eyes
you stare at me which you can't deny
your eyes shift from me and the wall
your eyes shift to me in the hall
I stare back which I can't deny
you never say anything and I wonder why
I don't know if you like me
I don't want to ask
to tell the truth I want these stares to last
I sometimes I wait in the halls to catch your eye
for this I'm not sure about and I can't tell you why
you of course come right on cue
and me in turn start staring at you
and you look at me with deep blue eyes
the same color as the deep blue sky's

A Whirlwind of nothingness (press)

as i fall through a whirlwind of nothingness
i fell more heartless with every second of darkness
and i continue to fall down this life draining tunnel
thinking "when will there be and end to this funnel."

but there is no end, i see no way to stay alive
these demons want my body, so my soul can die,
i see my flesh ripped open as i slowly black out
before i die, i hear one more scream, so i shout.

i woke up, i was on the other side
no demons anywhere, so i don't have to hide.
i wipe the blood of my face, and slowly rise,
I'm staggering trying to refocus my eyes.

pain through my body, my joints are aching
I'm in hell, there is no mistaking.
no guessing, and all i see is flames and death
i feel restless, my body has acid breath.

what can i do, i didn't make this decision
this isn''t the way that i want to be living
all i wanted was to be set free
but i can't escape from all of this misery

Freshman (press)

It's like I have a disease
if you come too close
you will catch it too
or something
only my diseased comrades come to say something to me
I sit in a corner
against the wall
no one says anything
to me
they live in their own world
and us with freshman-itious
are not welcome

Dandelion (Press)

the blue music of my thoughts
swishes you back in its
crescendo toward the breeze
and in a sea of grassy whispers
you sing hushed melodies
we sway along
detached
in a current of unconsciousness
together
infinitely distant
and word by word
you float from me
like wishes in the wind

Rain of an empty heart ( Press)

by: Foxy Lady

tragic life
will always contain a jewel
that is your heart
Strong
Loving
Beautiful

without you I live in a lonely street
where the day passes
and gives me no sun
Where I am left in the dark of the night
my life halts
graceful singing of rain yet
storm drains
Remain Empty
Along with my heart

A path that we must go on (Bless)

By:Foxy Lady

What is one to do when they are stuck at a cross road and each path takes them somewhere that they might want to be?
Should they take the road that they see as the better one?
Should they take the road they know the world wants them to take?
Do we know what road to take?
Or?
Are we just guessing and hoping that we choose right?
Is there a right or wrong way for us to go?
Is it the road that we were intended to take?
Is the road we choose correct?
Did we fail in our expectations?
When we pick a road is there any going back?
Or are we stuck on the road we chose even if it is wrong?
Will we ever know what the correct road is?
Or will we just wander on the paths that we choose?


Will we even know?

Wind (Press)

notes of an ephemeral tune
fall ceaselessly to the ground
in an inaudible melodious cascade
a lonely forgotten elegy
You enter
Your presence swells like waves
under the sonorous stream
of consciousness
and the chords dance a ballet
of melancholy affectation
in an Impressionist swirl
onto the infinite canvas
of memory