Stine

I'm a simple girl,
With simple needs.
I don't require
Extravagant gifts
Or a lavish lifestyle
In order to be happy.
Just a warm cup
Of coffee.

My comfort lies
In nature.
Whether I'm sitting within
Or observing from afar.
Watching the dirt
Blow this way
Then that.

Calming,
Like the strumming
Of a wooden guitar.
Sounding out
The nuetrality
In my soul.

As the bark
Of a cherry weeping willow.
Nothing will penetrate
My spirit.
Though my
Innocence may come and go,
With the seasons,
My endurance
Will stay rooted
To the ground.

Period Seven

Our screaming pencils
Scratch against silent paper.
Emotions run down.

Backslide

The best way to get rid of any butterflies
Is to chase them away.
A farewell to all that was good.
Greetings to threatening
E X P L O S I O N S
And last words.

What's next
Will determine our fate,
And I can't seem to convince you:
WE DO NOT NEED
ATTACKS.
We need solutions.

Renga poem (add to it!)

Orange leaves fall
To the black pavement

Nightmare creeps into existence
The sun falls back on it bed
A slow motion replay of yesterday.

The face on the moon
Is brightly smiling.

Children on
The playground laugh
Carelessly and happily.

I used to cry at the sight of scraped knees
That hasn't happened in years.

Years and days can be the same
It only depends
On the things that surround you.

Demons surround you
You cannot run, you can only fight.

Open space
Defend your kind,
Remember the screams of the wicked.

Children argue on the playground
Friends fight with friends.

Parents loudly carry on
Their nightly "discussion"
As their children try to sleep.

Her sleep was always interrupted
By his incessant snores.

The cat shoved his
Paw swifty
Through the night.

Wolves howl melodicly
To the steady rythm of crickets.

Always in the background,
The drummer lays the cement foundation
For the rest of the musical structure.

With foundation in absense the renga
Will collapse like a bad move in jenga.

A poet's mind is very great
Full of words, stanzas and verses
On ever-ending dictionary.

Where Destiny Took Me

I'm from empanadas and Colombianas,
The gold, the blue, the red
Constantly reminding me why I'm here
And the prejudice I'm up against.

I'm from the shadows my sister cast.
I'd watch from the sidelines
Hoping I'd be noticed
And feel disappointed when I wasn't.
But if I could just be like her for one day...

I'm from the hated,
The depraved belief in one God the Father the Almighty
Maker of Heaven and Earth of all that is seen and unseen
Begotten not made.
I carry my Hial Mary's
And unmoving faith with me always.

I'm from the overprotection of my mother
As she sits oustide for an hour
After "dropping me off".
And I inherit her protective ways over my siblings:
I will exhaust every horrible possibility of their whereabouts
Until they're finally back in my eyesight.

I'm from "FOR SALE" signs on front lawns,
Hand written letters to Hawaii,
Visits to Maryland,
And weekend calls from Las Vegas.
From friends closest to my heart,
And live so far away.

I'm from too much stress and not enough time.
Hard work, okay grades,
The black, the white, and everything in between.
I'm from looking at the bright side no matter how dark it is,
Believing that things will be okay
Because I'm from the time and place I was meant to be.