Young Writers Society

Home » Forums » Special Events » NaPoWriMo

a magician's tale



User avatar
509 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 74
Reviews: 509
Tue Mar 26, 2019 10:23 pm
View Likes
Jaybird says...



I don't know how many poems I'll actually write, but it never hurts to make a thread.
Magestorrow → Jaybird
  





User avatar
509 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 74
Reviews: 509
Mon Apr 01, 2019 9:20 pm
View Likes
Jaybird says...



a book

i'm almost done reading this book
chapters after chapters
documenting the story of
a girl from a little town
that no one ever knows the name of.

the pages are worn with age and care
i dog-eared some, too,
even though they always said not to.
no one likes the musty smell
that drifts throughout the room
when i open the book yet again.
feeling the old leather under
careful fingers.

i've walked around book store
after book store,
staring at the books on the
neat wooden shelves and
reading blurbs of stories.
i tried to find the right one
for me, but i'm scared
of the endings i can't
possibly predict.

one of the books will someday
be mine, but i don't know which.
i'm not sure i want to know.
it's fun imagining reading on
white sands and in swaying hammocks,
but it's never as nice as reading
my book snuggled underneath
warm covers on a cold winter's day.

i can stop reading now.
or maybe i can just reread
again and again and again,
watching a familiar tale play out
in front of eyes glittering with
childlike joy.

but eventually i'll grow tired
of the same old story.
i already am.
even if it's frightening,
i have to go up to the shelf
and pick a book.
i won't be able to return it.
but if i realize i really don't like
this new story,
i can always go back to that
little bookstore
and pick a new one.
Magestorrow → Jaybird
  





User avatar
509 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 74
Reviews: 509
Tue Apr 02, 2019 1:45 pm
View Likes
Jaybird says...



best friends occasionally

i can’t remember the first day
you and i met.
maybe it was under the trees at recess,
foreheads glistening with sweat
and toothy grins on our faces.
maybe it was in a class—
if i try hard enough,
i think i can remember
your fingers coated with paint
or a song on your lips.

what i remember
are saturdays at the local library
cementing a friendship i thought
was meant to be.
we talked about dinosaurs
and sciences and all the things
i had ever loved.
and when i found out
you liked anime, too,
i thought i had found
my platonic soulmate.

you teased me for
liking that one book character
as we sat in the school store
every single morning
and as we stuffed our faces
at lunch. i denied the connection,
but i’ve never been good at hiding
my feelings for others.

i called you my best friend.
forever, i said.
i wanted a cute little friendship
necklace, just like i had always read about.
you would have one half of my heart—
something to symbolize what i knew
to be the truth.
but we never got that necklace,
and i don’t think you would have
worn it even if i did.

it’s been years since we last met.
years since we were best friends.
our old friends sometimes mention you
in the middle of unrelated conversations.
and i pause
and pretend
that you haven’t left me scrambling after
the missing piece of my heart.
they talk about how you’re going by
a new name, and how you’ve
gotten back into anime.
how they see you doing mundane things.
and even though you left me alone and broken,
i can’t help but feel happy
to know that you’re finally finding yourself.

wherever you are now,
i hope you remember, too,
all of the little jokes and
childhood games that we played together.
remember how i wanted to include you
in the book i wrote in seventh grade,
how we conquered countless competitions at
each other’s side,
and all of the late nights we spent watching
anime together at one of our houses.
i hope you remember when we
were best friends—
never forever, but
always occasionally.
Magestorrow → Jaybird
  





User avatar
509 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 74
Reviews: 509
Wed Apr 03, 2019 8:12 pm
View Likes
Jaybird says...



miles

"i don't like superheroes,"
i keep telling the world.
i'm trying to prove a point,
but i don't know to who.
they say it's bad
to like what everyone else likes.
that i should be ashamed
if i like the hot new superhero movie
and that i shouldn't get excited
about a studio making a new one-
especially when their track record
is far from superb.

but the child in me still loves
looking up to the web slinger
that flew across my childhood tv.
when i saw the first trailer
of a world featuring characters
i had always secretly cared about,
i knew that i was flying over the streets
of new york city on a thread made of the
finest silk, my heart clad in red and blue.

i never told anyone
how i counted down the days.
how i screamed out the lyrics to sunflower
when they played it at my winter dance.
to how i thought it was as important to me
as the play that my brother had wanted to see
for years and years and years.

i was ashamed for thinking
that anyone could wear the mask, and
for foolishly believing
that i was included, too.
we say that we don't like
the heroes of our childhood
because it's wrong to believe
that there are good people out there
who help others just because they
know that great power comes with
great responsibility.

but it's not wrong
to think that even a single
person can make a difference
that changes a world
falling apart at its seams.
in a world that always seems
to fail me,
i want to believe
that i can be a superhero
just like you.
Magestorrow → Jaybird
  





User avatar
509 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 74
Reviews: 509
Thu Apr 04, 2019 1:19 pm
View Likes
Jaybird says...



the courtyard

i never understood the appeal
of a small green space
enclosed by four towering brick walls
some fifty years old.
it was nice
looking through the windows
on the second floor
and watching the upperclassmen
run and joke and eat their lunch
surrounded by flowering trees
in the middle of spring.
but the courtyard would be a
gathering of people who
were my peers in name alone,
and i had never liked
sitting alone at lunch.

then i was granted my
imaginary keys to an imaginary utopia.
i discovered that the
place i had been so quick
to dismiss as a freshman
was the secret paradise
all long for.
i could sit alone
at old metal tables,
watching the clouds roll
across a pristine blue sky.
there was a hidden beauty in
those solitary moments,
and a freedom that had
never been fully addressed.
i never had to tell a teacher
when i wanted to run to my locker
or swing by the bathroom.
no one could tell me
not to eat my lunch
ten minutes before the
lunch bell rang.

i learned to value the individual choices
and to crave the freedom
that my adult years will soon bring.
each moment was carefully spent
as i sat in the courtyard.
knowing that my time was
finite, and that my paradise
would soon be out of reach,
i braved the cold
and sought out the warm
patches created by the sun’s gentle
rays on days i could have stayed inside.
and when the weather was too extreme—
the wind too strong, the air too cold,
or the sky too dark—
i returned to the warmth of the crowded
cafeteria study.

as spring once again returns
i sit out in the courtyard.
alone.
i should be miserable
by myself
like the younger me predicted,
but i’m reveling in the cool spring air,
listening to the birds chirping
cheerful little melodies
as my fingers dance across a keyboard.
Magestorrow → Jaybird
  





User avatar
509 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 74
Reviews: 509
Fri Apr 05, 2019 9:38 am
View Likes
Jaybird says...



roleplay

a story begins
with a single white post
among a sea of blue.
an idea, a character,
the beginning of a thought—
all run through my head
as i sit at my keyboard.
i know i have an addiction for
spontaneously creating stories,
but i thrive in the
possibilities at my fingertips.

the writing process can stretch
for an eternity,
just word after word on a blank
document as i try to decide
if i'm doing things right.
everything needs to be
meticulously plotted,
even though the only thing
i can plan for
is how a story begins and ends.

some may say that roleplays
aren't truly satisfying.
that a hodgepodge of characters
in a setting chosen at random
can never be as enjoyable
as writing an entire novel.
but they have never had,
friendship blossom on the screen
between two characters
who should have never met—
they make promises to each other
that they never can make
in their actual stories.
there's love, too.
romances carved out in an intricate
array of confessions and denials.
it's beautiful to watch that dance.
and the anger is just
as incredible.
they're not even from
the same story, but
they still manage to hate
each other with a burning passion.
i love kindling that fire.

i know it's ultimately an escape,
and a form of instant gratification
for character development
that i can never truly get
when writing a novel.
but a warm feeling
nestles in my chest
whenever i figure out an idea
for the perfect new roleplay,
and i will never stop
making them—
even when they someday
number in the thousands.
Magestorrow → Jaybird
  





User avatar
509 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 74
Reviews: 509
Sat Apr 06, 2019 10:46 pm
View Likes
Jaybird says...



k

maybe i like you
because you remind me
that there's no such thing
as a predetermined fate.
your life hasn't been
dictated by a single mistake
you made as a child.
you might suffer through
a monotonous stream of activities,
and through a loneliness
that you can't always bear,
but it won't be for an eternity.
we're simply watching the grains
of sand slip through the hourglass,
running our hands through
the broken shards of glass
as we bide my time.

maybe i like you
because you're a beacon
of hope when everything
around me goes dark—
an overdone cliché at best.
but there's nothing wrong
with repeating the same
speeches on good and bad,
and believing that people can
change for the better.
we're the twinkling stars
in the impossibly large
sea of black,
and the vibrant sunrise
bursting through the horizon.

maybe i like you
because your heart is too big
for a world that wants to
tear you apart
piece by every little piece.
you care so much
that it hurts when
you see others being
brushed aside,
but hide the good in
the very depths of your soul
because it's a sin in this
world to care for someone else.
yet you've never been just yourself.
you're always someone's friend,
or someone's family.
you're a brother. a mentor. a guide.
people trust you,
and you do your very best
to show them they haven't made
a mistake in believing in your.
we hold the world up
as pillars of kindness.
even when we think
we're failures,
we're still strong and sturdy,
and they still choose
to lean on us instead of others.

or maybe i like you
because you've always been
the reflection i see
when i look in my mirror,
with all the little imperfections
i try to ignore.
we must be copies
of each other,
similar in every way.
every line can be traced
back to the original story—
one of change, of hope
and of finding the inner strength
we never realized we had.
Magestorrow → Jaybird
  





User avatar
304 Reviews



Gender: None specified
Points: 16125
Reviews: 304
Sun Apr 07, 2019 8:31 pm
View Likes
fraey says...



Hey! Wanted to stop by and say this is a neat writing style, to go more so on longer, more narrative poems. You've got some nice, winding stanzas and neat figurative language. Excited to see what comes next :-D!
farewell, once, amidst a wave.
castle grounds consultant of the court
  





User avatar
509 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 74
Reviews: 509
Sun Apr 07, 2019 8:47 pm
View Likes
Jaybird says...



Thanks, @fraey!
Magestorrow → Jaybird
  





User avatar
509 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 74
Reviews: 509
Mon Apr 08, 2019 1:59 pm
View Likes
Jaybird says...



clumsy

my body is a time capsule.
scars and cuts litter my bare skin,
and i can trace every one of them
back to a stumble or fall.

i’ve never been good
at taking things slow.
in the past week alone,
i’ve hit my head three times
on the roof of the chicken coop.
each time hurts just as much
as the first accident did,
but i’ve learned to
ignore the pain that blossoms
at the top of my skull.

i have a little knick on my finger
from where i cut myself
while cleaning up
the shards of glass
that spilled across the school hallway
when my friend’s penny jar broke.
the bell was about to ring,
but i didn’t want him
to be late to class
so i tried cleaning up
all the little bronze discs
at our feet.

in the summer of ‘09,
i broke my toe
running over a root
in a nearby state park.
i hobbled around on crutches
and read many books
during the rest of those
long two months.
i can’t see where
bones snapped from the outside,
but i know the inside of
my body holds many secrets.

my legs are a mosaic
of old cuts and scabs
from many summers.
my blood must be
quite tasty to the mosquitoes
that cover my legs in
bug bites every year.
i itch and scratch at them
no matter how old i’ve become.
and when the wounds
finally begin to heal,
i reopen them—
never intentionally,
but i just can’t let them go.

i’ve always been told
that i need to start
taking things slow
if i want to stop
getting hurt.
but the world is moving
too fast around me
to pause and mind my step.
i can deal with a little pain
if it means
getting to truly live.
Magestorrow → Jaybird
  





User avatar
509 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 74
Reviews: 509
Mon Apr 08, 2019 2:00 pm
View Likes
Jaybird says...



monster in me

i think there’s a monster
inside of me—
a powerful, angry beast.
i’m good at quieting his roars,
but sometimes the noise
overwhelms me.
i can feel him prowling around
in the center of my chest,
causing a painful, irritating knot.
the monster is a brilliant shade of red
as he utters a low growl.

i’ve seen the power
of other monsters,
and how they destroy
those that have them.
they disguise themselves
and blend in with the throbbing
of gentle hearts.
they’re just as colorful as my own,
but are never seen
by the ones they control.
some are sorrowful blues
and quivering purples.
others are envious greens.
and some are the same
bright scarlet as my monster.

they infect the rest
of the heart,
and the heart is never the wiser.
i’ve tried to keep my monster
trapped in a cage
where no one can ever find him.
but sometimes he
finds a way to escape.
i always catch him
before the world can figure
out that he exists,
but i still tremble
and turn pale when
i realize i can never truly stop him.
Magestorrow → Jaybird
  





User avatar
307 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 18616
Reviews: 307
Tue Apr 09, 2019 12:31 am
View Likes
Liberty says...



These are great poems, Mage! I really like 'em.
We are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided.
  





User avatar
509 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 74
Reviews: 509
Tue Apr 09, 2019 11:55 pm
View Likes
Jaybird says...



Thanks, @Liberty500! Hopefully you'll like the other ones I write, too. <3
Magestorrow → Jaybird
  





User avatar
509 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 74
Reviews: 509
Wed Apr 10, 2019 12:06 am
View Likes
Jaybird says...



i want to hold a sword

i've grown up a magician,
letting spells dance on
my fingertips—
strong, beautiful arrays
of a rainbow of colors
that shimmer in the light.
i know just the right words
to mend an open wounds, and
find the hidden, broken
bones underneath the surface.
and when i say
the right spell
and run my fingers across
tender skin,
i can heal those
internal scars.

but i want to
be like the knights i've
read stories since i was
just a little girl.
i want to be the peak
of chivalry and bravery,
defending my own princesses
and vanquishing dragons
that try to steal them away.
i want to grasp the hilt
of a blade that has won
countless battles,
and lost some, too.
and when someone
needs my help,
i don't want to offer a spell
as consolation.
i want to fight the monsters
lurking in the dark,
and defeat
all that try to hurt them.
Magestorrow → Jaybird
  





User avatar
509 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 74
Reviews: 509
Wed Apr 10, 2019 10:17 am
View Likes
Jaybird says...



stomachache

i have a pit
growing in my stomach,
twisting this way and that.

i feel queasy—
it's taking all of my
concentration
to avoid making
the downstairs bathroom
my new home.

i could feel the beginnings of
the ache last night.
i was sitting in my bed
like i am now,
trying to figure out
what i had done
to upset the fragile
balance of my body.

today is supposed to be
an important day.
i've spent a year building
up to this final presentation—
if i make too many mistakes,
i'll fail and won't be
able to graduate.

but the pit in my stomach
isn't butterflies.
i know what that feels like.
i know how hard it is
to sit still in the final hours
before failure or success,
and how i pace and pace
as the butterflies about.

all i want to do
is burrow underneath my
covers, clenching my tablet
and watching Sanders Sides
in the comfort or darkness,
or curl into a ball into
my nest of pillows
with a good book in my hands.
Magestorrow → Jaybird
  








There are darknesses in life and there are lights, and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights.
— Bram Stoker