Scrap paper (imitation) by Abhishek Raol

You find a small piece of paper
torn off the page of a book
like a sail ripped off and pit out by a shark

the shark that ate your homework
and spit out it's dinner on your paper
which then got washed away by the tides

of your anxiety and dis-focus
you have nothing left but an
empty piece of paper

and not much time to finish

Empty thoughts

empty thoughts stuck in my head
wishing waiting stuck in bed
cant get up, no not yet
pray a little harder
go a little farther
like a storm in my presence
taking away the essence
bringing back the day
i looked your way
in the light so bright
especially in the night
your light shined so bright
in my empty thoughts
you run wild
every path in my mind you control
i hear your voice
in the distance
or are those just my empty thoughts 

caleb nathanael gonzales

A poem that begins (imitation) Abhishek Raol

A poem that begins by Abhishek Raol

I don't love you as if you were a rose of salt topaz,
I love you as if you were the salt on my eggs,
I love you because you make my life tasty,

Yet you clog my arteries and ruin my heart
you'll kill me early and end my life
yet everytime I sit down with an egg I reach for the salt

I eat you because you're there
I eat you because you make me happy for

the second and a half you're in my mouth
I think I'll buy some rock salt, or brown salt
or replace you with sugar or even sand

SO the next time I sit down with my eggs
I'll have a mouthful of beach and it'll be like I'm at the beach
rolling in the warm sand, the salty sand

that I put on my eggs sunny side up
Like the universal sun

October is Like by Abhishek Raol

October is like by Abhishek Raol

If October is like thick and heavy pumpkin juice
Then May is like vibrant fizzy grape soda
I don't like pumpkins unless they
are artificial and flavored with grape candy
I'd prefer the cool refreshment of
a plump juicy grape

Earlier today It was a runner followed by a car
Followed by this biker
all of whom race past
feeling the thrill of
the world flying past as they race down
the rocky grey road
I've never seen what's around the turn
I've only gotten a glimpse as autumn comes
around and I peek through the leafless twigs
and branches of my friends
I love when the wind comes, hoping
that it will pull me out of my roots
and take me flying down the road

that lucky stone luckily placed on the
partition of the fat green collosal trees
the body under almost tanning a little
from the magnificent rays of the sun
He never saw much of it in his time in the world
always tucked away in some corner of a tall
cement tower
typing away furiously upon his keyboard
his only pet and best friend his mouse
looking at his desktop screen
some image of a sunny place where
the trees separated to lighten up some
piece of rock
well he has the rest of forever to
feel some warmth against that piece
of cold hard stone

I do not fear you(imitation) by Abhishek Raol

Our greatest fear imitation
by Abhishek Raol
What a clown, stop looking at me
your blue eyes better mind their own business buddy
brown hair, big head, blond scruff
Yes my friend Levi, I mean you

I don't care that you wear shirts
without sleves, of flex your fat arms
Or look at me like you want to kill me
I will kill you with the courage

Of a jeep running over a lion
In the middle of a pack
right in front of the Lion king
I do not fear you

"Our Greatest Fear"

Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate,
but that we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us.
We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant,
gorgeous, handsome, talented and fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.

Your playing small does not serve the world.
There is nothing enlightened about shrinking
so that other people won't feel insecure around you.

We were born to make manifest the glory of God within us.
It is not just in some; it is in everyone.

And, as we let our own light shine, we consciously give
other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our fear,
our presence automatically liberates others.

 Author: Marianne Williamson

The Seasons. By Erika Beaver

The Seasons. By Erika Beaver

I look to my left and see a girl

Not just any girl, but one that

Reminds me of winter. Her

Emotions are cold, like ice.

And she is sitting on the stairs

With her legs tucked in to her

Chest, as if she’s cold. But, I

Don’t think she’s cold. I think

She is upset, like winter often

Can be. She looks to the ground,

Head shaking like your body

Does when its cold outside.

I’m beginning to feel a little

Chilly myself, so I look in front

Of me and see a man. Not just

An ordinary man. But one that

Reminds me of spring. He is happy

And appears to be full of energy

And his shirt is the color of pink.

He’s got two dogs, those are his

Precious flowers, full of life like

Flowers are in the spring time.

He’s gone now, like spring

Comes and goes, but there is always

Another season, something new

Something exciting. So I look

To my right and see a pack

Of zombies. What a silly thing

To dress up as. This reminds me

Of playing games, games like

Soccer, and Frisbee. Those are

Games you play in the summer.

Summer is warm and welcoming.

People are in good moods in the

Summer, unlike those zombies

Over there, they belong in a much

Gloomier season, such as fall.

Fall is where Halloween lives.

Where the ghosts and goblins reside.

Where people on Halloween night

Sneak up behind you and scare you,

Which is why I turn around and

I see nothing. Nothing at all.

Like all those seasons we just

Went through, mean nothing.

Like they didn’t even happen.

They just come and go, and

They are seen, and then forgotten.

Seasons are ever changing, just

Like everything else in the world.

Nothing stays the same. 

What’s in a Month? By ERIKA BEAVER

What’s in a Month?

By ERIKA BEAVER

I.                     

If October is like a bag of tricks,

Then May must be like a bag of treats.

If in October there is celebration of death

Then in May there must be celebration of life

These months are very different in the eyes of a child.

Earlier today I was on a long five mile walk

To school to be taught many wonderful

Things, a man on a bike passed me, he looked

Peaceful. Like he was taking in the morning

Sun, we’ve all waited so long to see.

And this too, reminds me of the happiness

And brilliance the sunshine brings.

On a warm day in May, as we lay on the beach.

Soaking in the warmth of the sun, as it wraps

Its long comforting rays around our bodies.

Once in a dream, I was on a beach,

But then all of a sudden, surrounded by water,

The air, slowly escaping my lungs,

If only I could move I could reach the surface.

But I was frozen, like a statue. Lifeless, like October.

II.                   

I never thought life could be so full errands

Some months are busier than others.

Whether its birthday party shopping in May

Or Halloween party shopping in October

There is always shopping to be done.

The worst thing you ever said to me was,

Its going to rain again tomorrow.

What a typical day in October.

Always raining, making people anti-social

Walking around with their heads down.

Listen, can you hear it?

Is it the hackling and cackling

Of jack-o-lanterns and ghosts?

Or is it the laughter and joy

Of children playing?

Once in October, I was at a Halloween party

With games, and apple bobbing. Pumpkin carving,

Hay riding and cake walking.

And of course a bon fire to keep us warm.

And to light the cold, dark night.

But this is not October, it is May.

This month is full of birthday parties

With piñatas, and slip n’ slides.

It is warm and bright and green outside

Not cold and dark like October.

The Grass By ERIKA BEAVER

The Grass

By ERIKA BEAVER

A child asks, what is the grass?

I tell the child, grass is many things.

It is a blanket to protect those beneath it

And a bed for those on top to lie on.

The playground of crawly critters that creep,

And a place for unwanted gum wrappers to hide.

A secret passage way for migration,

Where poppies and daffodils sprout.

An easy place to play catch,

Or make a daisy chain.

Or be a soft hill to roll down.

Down down like alice in wonderland.

Another life lives in the leaves and weeds.

Plants of death, stealing and spreading.

Yet grass survives, even thrives.

That crazy rabbit finds comfort in

The deep dark hole beneath the grass

It is his home where he keeps his treasures

It is where he finds the time to think

About life, and other things.

The grass is eaten by the gazelle, and yet,

The gazelle will die and become the grass.

Such is the circle of life

That we so often talk about.

The circle that brings all life together.

Like the six degrees of separation or whatever…