Treasure of the South

Piping hot, crispy skin
Greasy like the bottom of a car
My mouth waters as the smell
Pulls me closer and closer

My nose is now a magnet
Attracted to the aroma
I follow it
Like a mouse does the smell of cheese

I reach my destination
The kitchen, where my treasure awaits
It sits on its throne majestically
And I am overcome

Overcome with an emotion
So strong that I cannot
Hold it inside
Even though I try

That feeling, however
Is not one of sadness
Or anger, or even remorse
No.  The emotion is...

Hunger
I take it off of its throne
And devour it
Like a lion devours a gazelle

Piping hot, crispy skin
Greasy like the bottom of a car
My lips are like wax paper
As I finish my fried chicken

- Paakweisi

Freedom and dirty streets

 Freedom and streets.



What is freedom? Every body seems to have a different interpretation of it. Some people think it is something that you can hold in the palm of your hand and examine like a child, and yet, for some people it is something so unbelievably abstract that no one can have it. The truth is that no one truly knows what freedom is, and that is probably why so many people spend their lives seeking it out; freedom from need, freedom from want. freedom from hunger, freedom from pain, and in all of these things, that want for freedom holds a much darker meaning, for without pain, hunger, death and destruction, how will we know what it is to be free?

Staring out the window at a space that was far too familiar, far to similar to everything else. The black, dirty, saturated asphalt hardly seem special or interesting, yet I was staring at it. It, like every thing else here seemed so plain, so harsh. Maybe, maybe it was because "here" was a place that the sun didn't shine, the only grass we had "here" was yellow and withered, sun-deprived, it echoed the people. The people here are hungry, frail, desperate, and seemingly all insomniacs. All the time, be it day or night, the perpetually feeling of being watched by someone -or something- was everywhere, it hung over the asphalt and withered grass like a miasma. I kicked a rock near my fear and watched apathetically as it fell into the storm drain, the mild feeling of satisfaction that came from manipulation one's environment came over me, and a small smile flashed over my lips, though it faded as I lifted up my head to look at the street ahead of me, sighing. I looked behind me, where am I going? I thought, I had no idea. I knew where I came from, the past isn't scary, it's always the future, the freedom of possibility that's terrifying. I turn my head forward, taking that first step ahead of me, and a feeling of what I can only describe as freedom came over me. Suddenly, everything, fear of the future, a fear of freedom, seemed irrational. I threw back my head, laughing at my self, and walking forward, looking up at the sun, rising over the grey buildings.

- Mariella

The Brainiac: For Gregory

His intelligence knows no bounds
He is not limited by the chains of society
Which pressure us to abandon the quest for knowledge
He is Gregory!

- Paakweisi

S's other story excerpt

She ran raster then she had ever run before. She glimpsed the shadows of her attackers and felt their breath hot on her back. She quickly unsheathed her dagger, with a feeling of dread she realized that the end was coming

Chaos

Entropy can be a beutiful thing,
But I'm the one who hates perfection
talk to someone else,
they might say that perfection is the goal of humanity.

Chaos is wild,
in a world of order,
a world of restraints and cages,
chaos can be hope,
the smallest amount of unrest in the system,
removing destiny from the equation.

I do not condone violence,
or the anarchist who claim to want chaos,
because without order,
we would be primates.

But a little bit of chaos,
a slight dash of Entropy,
it can make a grey street a mural of color,
 or a miracle on a sunny day.

- Jane D.

Trees

                 Trees
      
       the invasive scents
      endlessly moving to
       assault the senses

Emperor Norton

Loss

As you recieve bad news time becomes still,

falling to your knees you become separated from life

reality stops existing as life's joys fade away...

BALLS!

                                                            Balls

They came out of the blue
bouncing on the street.
A sea of multicolored balls,
there were many; not little, not few.
It was pretty neat,
wacthing the balls go up, then fall,
and it was something new.
There were parts where some would meet,
and parts where some hit a wall.
But it definitely made me want to shout, "WHOO!!"

Flash Summary

Whimsical insanity clings as he appears only in her mind.

The Embrace

She hugs her mother
Finding comfort in her arms
Troubles melt away

Dirty Deeds

That evil that lurks within
That desire, that insationable desire
To destroy something another worked so
Hard on, pouring out their emotions
Putting their time
Its all gone
Destroyed
Not by me
My need

Pop Poem

Trapped on Outside. Building Doorless. Transfer Broken. Brother Dying. Help

S's Story excerpt

Here's a bit of my story,


On a dark September night, the shadows were more active then they had ever been. For centuries they had been biding their time, waiting for the right moment to strike and finally the time has come. They raced about setting events into place. Events, that would bring a word to its knees


- S
Bet u r wondering who I am Mwahahahaha

A story in 10 words!

Girl injured.All alone.
Nowhere to go.
Happiness is key.

Life

Shooting down the street with ease,

in broad daylight they bounce and roll,

with grace and color do they come alive,

losing touch with reality and becoming something more,

more than objects trying to reach a destination.

They are purpose, defying all time and space

using their power to be something and identify themselves.

These are simply because they are,

 showing they're more than just spheres but they are a still picture of life.

-Sylas

The Pool

I jump in
I try to move fast
But I'm overcome with fear and fatigue

My body is aching
I try to rest
But I know I cannot

They say, "COME ON!"
I push will all my strength
I am finally on the other end

I
              go
                                       under........................................

The Colorful Bouncy Balls

The balls bounced down an empty street
The boy just stood there waiting to meet
The multiple colors all hopping around
Just waiting for them all to run aground

The dog watched with nervous paws
The frog jumpped, scared from his jaws
The balls gathered at the bottom
Just waiting for someone to stopem'

The trees were just pummeled
And the colors are all jumbled

-Sara

Invincible

To write without stopping is to

feel the power of imagining,

see the words flowing across the paper

like water down a river of blue.

So natural, it is traversing a room,

almost tasting your destination,

reaching out to grasp the end,

holding on tight and never letting go.

You are invincible. 

--Briana  

Great Balls of Color

A rainbow waterfall
Appears in the sky
Painting the concrete

As it descends from up high
It rolls down the boulevard
Much to my dismay
A legion of balls
Is coming my way
I should've ran away, why did I wait?
... Too late

Desire

i feel so red and feverish, captive yet unimaginably free
a delicious, astonishing, and dreamy burn makes me rise
but an earth-shattering jolt with an unspoken epicenter brings me crashing back, time after time.
i cannot calm this desire, this rough and provocative expression
i am trapped in this obsession, a prisoner beyond happiness and sadness
my love helps me explore the vast confines
sweet and gentle, but striking and energized
through my hungry mind and body.
this romantic and feverish red is coveted long afterwards.

Fishing

                                                             Fishing

A boy walked to the old man,

old life met new life.

Fishing but content,

the man was near the end of his book,

but was still, content.

Next morning, the boy goes

fishing with his pole.

The old man is no longer there,

but his pole is.

So the boy silently fishes alone...

Summertime

I miss the ocean
That lovely beach.
That girl with her sandles and bikini
That swole bodied swimmer darkend by sun
Going to that place where no one knows who you are
And the next everybody does
Sun bathing, half naked for hours
Slight burns starting on one cheek then spreading
Over the nose to the other
No school, no work. Only happiness...
And the occasional boredom

The Twisted Weather

We watch an amazing sunset,
filled with many colors.
There's not a cloud insight
until the night... when a thunderstorm comes,
with lots of thunder and lightening, and
then the train sounds, but there is no train.
There is a tornado brewing,
somewhere in the night.
We are being picked up,
and tossed through the air.

-Sara

Little Rubber Bouncy Balls

Little rubber bouncy balls,

Bouncing along the street.

Thousands and thousands on the concrete.

They fly through the air,

Up and down the stairs.

Hundreds of colors it seems.

Tons of reds, blues, and greens.

Small pieces of rubber in shapes of balls,

They bounce off the car, and windows, and walls.

Oh how I love these tiny, colorful, bouncing balls.

Second Chance

Here is an excerpt out of my story that I am currently writing, feel free to comment

It’s the little things you miss when you die, like your favorite pair of jeans and that fabulous purple nail polish. All those things were taken away from me on a dark December night. My killer was never arrested. I don’t remember a lot about that night, but I do know that I was murdered. Until now I’ve been stuck watching my family grieve and my friends tittering nervously by my forsaken locker. But now I am going to get a second chance, my goal is simple; find my killer…….before they find me.