Young Writers Society

Poem 24 - 4/20/2017

"to love the sun"

if i forgot the sun
would his rays cease to shine?
___as i retrieve a flower that's dried
___in the shadows, i realize this is the end

i have sometimes chased
his falling glow on the horizon
___the smell of decay still on my fingers
___i brush a wisp of hair from my eyes

if only i was faster, maybe the sun
would stop to let me hold him

for a moment
___i turn my head to your face and see
___the hesitation mixed with colors of determination
none can catch the sun

i should have remembered the brightness
is blinding, yet i can not stop looking

and wondering
___is there something i could have done?
___i know the answer before i voice the question
you were always too far away

even when our hands touched
and fire flashed between our lips

i knew this night would come
___every sun must set some day
___and the moon can not be allowed
to fall in love with the sun

Alliyah, that poem brought me a little bit of peace. Like I should have known as the narrator in the poem knew. It was just what happens when you fall in love with the sun. Thank you.

Poem 25 - 4/21/17

"I don't cry for poetry"
To cry is cliché
like the tears dancing upon your cheeks
paused to consider what metaphor
would be suitable for your sorrow.
Describing the sound of weeping
or the hushed sobs that shake
and rock and long to scream
is not appropriate for a poem.
I've been told, you shouldn't
bother putting the words
broken and heart within the same
line, if you want your readers
to take you seriously.
Broken hearts are just another
soulless metaphor that falls flat
even when you feel your chest tighten
and the muscles stretch, ripping at the seams
as a thousand little moments become pins
piercing and leaving your heart or whatever
you are broken.
I don’t know who decided
crying and broken hearts
were poetic mishaps.

But if this pain can’t be poetry
then what is poetry for?

Poem 26 - 4/22/17

"dream thoughts"
I watch the night sky
and cherish it's depth wondering
how far the world stretches
and how close the stars might come

And while the sky and night go on
in infinite abundance I see I am
just a speck in that universe
bound to become dust

Even as I feel the earth drawing
me in by my feet, I feel comfort
and know that the dust I am now
is only a prelude to my dance
with the stars in the heavens.

Poem 27 - 4.23.17



"eyes for the sun"
today i plucked out my eyes
to better feel the sun
i don't need vision
to appreciate the pale glow
of orange and amber hues
transcribed across the horizon

i know that they exist
and without looking i can
almost touch the warmth
the sun breathes out
a feathered wing brushing
my skin, just out of reach

i threw out my eyes without regret
because eyes are for those
who cannot see
and the sun is meant for
those who never needed to.

Poem 28 - 4.23.17
"sometimes"
sometimes i see the stretch of the universe
and lose myself in the world and the sky
sometimes i think that love is my value and
maybe the boys who have left and changed
know something more than i do
sometimes i give up on boys
and dance and decide i'm a single soul
bound for the life of a delightful hermit
who reads and drinks tea and loves
herself with wild abandon
sometimes i miss where i've been
and sometimes i regret the same
there are times i cannot seem to gather
hope for the future which seems so unsure
or unchanging or terrifying or
lonely and i don't want to be alone
sometimes i miss my sister's laugh
and hugs and wish i could wrap her into
my arms and latch her unto a kite
and bring her with me wherever i go
sometimes i miss who i was sometimes
i can't even remember who that was
and some-days i write it all down
or drink dandelions in maple syrup
and try to forget and sometimes i can
and sometimes i know I can not
and sometimes that's enough.

'Sometimes' is my favorite one so far! I love the part about carrying your sister (me) around on a kite, that's adorable imagery, and so sickly sweetly sad.

Poem 29 - 4/24/17
just one more poem until I've reached 30!

"Carefree"
today i don't care
about the knots in my hair
i'll let it down and laugh
as it gets tangled in the grass
the beetles and the spiders
can come join my joy parade
i will spin around until i fall
just dizzy on being free

i once feared your critical eyes
even as i closed my own
but they don't scare me anymore
and words are just the same
so unbind your hair
and dance along
what have you to lose?

Poem 30 - 4/26/17


"When Spring Has Passed"

this year
the first robin
of spring
was silent

_____it was you who said
_____birds return to us
_____to bring
_____a harbinger of tomorrow
_____that survived yesterday

on a bitter day
with frost kissed wind
and an edge of regret
I saw the fragile artifact
laying in an unnatural peace
upon the frozen ground

_____surely you taught me how to kiss
_____with cinnamon breath
_____and mitten-hands
_____I should have seen the world was dead
_____as the snow fell and you let go

she was lost
before she had a chance
to fly, or sing,
or love while dancing
between the budding flowers
for the sweet rays of the morning sun

_____it is the quiet ones
_____that you can never forget
_____their hearts louder, deliberate,
_____their whispers softer like the weight
_____of their words were imprinted before
_____they had even begun to speak

and as her dull vermilion
chest began to be smothered
with the soft dust of morning
snow, I turned away.


Sometimes dreams fade,
some we lose, and some
are gone
before they can even imagine
what it is to fly.

Poem 31 - 4.27.17

"flashing lights"

you were a meteor in a universe of fallen rocks
a blaze of light across the sky
that few might dare to touch
or believe or
even love

i was there watching under the stars
seeing the dark, hoping for more,
and i knew you were there
and i saw you
even then

if the heavens watched the earth, as the earth watches
the heavens, they would have seen a spark
and asked who we were
to be so bold
to fly

Poem 32 - 4.28.17

"Rainy Nights"

today i woke
today i woketo falling rain
like feathers breaking glass
like sand covering my ears

>>>i've only ever heard the rain
>>>when i'm outside its reach

>>>(inside where i am safe)

i close my eyes
i close my eyesand hold my breath
to keep (the sand and rain) out of my body
to stop them from weighing me down

>>>sometimes (sight) is blinding
>>>it negates what our senses know
>>>(without outside confirmation)

as the thunder drums behind the rain
i cover my ears
i cover my earsand think (to myself)
it'd be better to drown
it'd be betterin the dark.

Poem 33 - 4.29.17

"listening to the sky"

if the sky could speak
i think i'd already know
why i cannot see the sun
without being blinded
and why the stars are always
too far away to touch
and why the moon's mysteries
are always her own.

if the sky could speak
i don't think i'd be surprised
to know i'm only human,
or to know that there is a God.
sometimes words aren't necessary
because the truth is more clear
than all the stars dancing in the night,
deeper than the bounds of the sea,
and closer than the skin between my fingers
that reach out and without touching
can feel and know that i am alive
and that the universe is real
and that God is in it.

Poem 34 - 4.29.17

"Have I Forgotten You?"

I suppose this is a roundabout way to tell you
that I can’t forget
_____and it’s too much to hope you remember
by some work of fate or
some failure of courage
I’ve started to choke down the frozen realization
there will never be another time
for us
_____those last half-hearted greetings
and goodbyes
that were striving to sound
like they didn’t mean anything
_____like we weren’t anything
striving to sound like they weren’t the bookends
of our story
___were anything but the truth.

And my memories of you
have become placeholders
_____for the fragile breath
between hope
__________and fiction.

And they’ve taken root in my dreams
and these memories now
are tainted with knowing
they are just
memories
_____which you cling to
or rather
or rather I
__________ cling to you.

And I wish there was some way I could reach out
to touch these pictures
_____painted on my heart
_______________to see if they were ever real.
my fears feel so grounded in the past
_____in our past
or what I thought we had
and as I pass another year untouched
by the sound of my name
on your lips
I don’t know what to think anymore
_____and I don’t know
what you’d want me to say
but I suppose this is a roundabout way
to tell you,
I can’t forget.

Poem 35 - 4/30/2017
[And here's my last poem of the month to finish off NaPo]

"and he is not poetry"

i think as i toss verses
of lovers left in time
that told secrets under cover
of flashing stars and symbols
without meaning
and i wonder
who we are
and why i can't
leave you behind
in the footnotes where i
so desperately want to crumple
the pages and shut the book closed tight

i wonder why you always come back
if not in life
in these words that etch themselves
in my journals and the margins
and every space between
my every thought.

if you were just a metaphor
i could have crafted you into
honey or sunshine or something
more sweet than you are by now.
i could take these harsh lines
and delight in such elegance and loveliness
that the night in all her dark beauty
would be jealous
of what we shared.

but you are not poetry
and sometimes
i'm just not a poet
and there are no words
that seem to be able to contain
who you are
or became
and that's not my fault.

and even knowing that
you are not poetry,
doesn't stop me from trying
although i know the task is futile.
and my heart keeps pouring poetry
even as i ask these questions, because
at least these words are mine
and they won't break their promises
and on some pages
i have won
when you read between
these lines.

Oh wow, that last one is rather heartbreaking!

You are always a poet, I don't care. I love you Alliyah <3333 don't make me cry DX