(Three times a day for five days assignment)


The thrum of the world’s outside my window, shades the sweet melody of the bird’s narratives.
But one mile into my thoughts, and my knees go weak.
Exhausted by the categorical nature.

Losing out to make a record,
Chimes the aggravation.
Red, red, red.

Wisps of air
Itching and burning—stings
like a film strip.

One foot in front of the other.
Free.
Eleven hours of grey,
And the class crosses over.
A square of us, talk of trips.
Cold and distorted.

Eli's Words (Conversation Assignment)


Wait.
You don’t really care about me.
Nothing.
Super bright light.
Blanking out.
You’ll be fine.
Drowsy.
Let it flow,
free as a bird.
Thanks.

Sweet enough.
Self-conscious,
Shy and soft spoken.
No, too sweet.
Stay true.

Sorry joy to yourself,
with interesting stories to tell.
I’m taking a while.


The Kiss (Poetic Line Assignment)


The brush of the wind, a sweet ecstasy.
A sunrise’s caress, soft and warm.
It hums beneath my skin,
waiting to blossom and fly in the breeze.
Yearning for time and this endless moment.
A song of white fire, that tastes like rain;
the symphony of a spectrum of colors
becomes a whirlwind of uncontrollable desire.
Fantastical dreams that should not exist;
the colliding of midnight stars, along the twilight’s horizon.

The Wanderer (Craft Assignment)


As the sun braves the world,
he smiles on.
With an effortless grace,
he roams the day
like a soft summer breeze
just sweeping through.
He is a mystery.
He is a wanderer.
His spoken words are rare-
a rare beauty.

The sun rises,
so he smiles.
Casually walking
throughout the day,
like a light summer breeze
that blows through.
He wanders around,
making him a mystery.
He barely talks;
But when he does,
it’s nice.

Dream Lake (Sound Poem)


Sweet dreams, while deep in sleep,
throughout the night through twinkling lights.
She made her way to see the lake,
to play the same games with her old school mate.
He had bright beautiful blue eyes,
Oh, how he loved to hide from her.
In green fields or in trash of peach peels,
in the treetops or the rooftops.
She could not find him, she could not see,
even though he buzzed and buzzed like a bee.

Under the Bed (Triggering Poem)


At the corner, sat a lavender box.
Photographs spilled over the rim.
A boy with freckles splattered across his cheeks
stared out of the picture with a wide grin.
The silver box springs under the bed,
all in all perfectly spaced,
were in the ready position
against the reddish rug they faced.
Strands of blonde and brown hair
were hung and danced in between.
The glittering dust seemed to sleep
sprinkling the realm as they dreamed.
The cream-colored sheet of spectators
surrounded and watched all around.
As the dime-sized long-legged spider,
descended gracefully to the carpeted ground,
Held only by a twinkling thread,
it commanded attention
by everything under the bed.

Someone I Will Meet

Music humming beneath my skin.
The sun's gentle push causes me to open my eyes,
as life blooms with fragrances of daytime dreams,
and pure love that lights up the night.
I wander with direction,
into the mind of someone I've never met,
so that one day we can learn to love with no regrets.
We'll fill each other's broken hearts,
turning us again into believers,
and you'll tell all your friends,
that you'll never leave her.

And I'll tell mine that your the one,
And so we'll kiss beneath the setting sun,
Til the melody of life and love is done.
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