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Alibis and Excuses

by: Sarah Blume


We both went through so much and I could never seem to find the right words
for consolation
for intimacy
You were always the compassionate one and I admired you for it,
searching for the truth,
disproving the lies that I readily accepted,
wearing your heart on your sleeve only to have it ripped apart time after time.
But through this I feel I was no comfort at all, and maybe you died without knowing.
I regret and detest myself for never being able to say it,
for never finding to the words to express my love and utter devotion for you.
I can say it now though the time for it passed a while ago with the season change, with your passing on...
I know now and I only wish you knew too. I love you

Biographical Comments: My name is Sarah and I'm 14. This is my second attempt and writing poetry.  I would appretiate any feedback, positive or negative, please.


I'm Tired of Sleeping

By: Lesley A. Goodman


Painful rivers
Race through my mind,
Flowing into tiny streams
Of anger.
My dreams are nightmares,
Soul-wrenching visions of
Death and destruction.
Red waves of pain
Wash into me,
Deeply embedding themselves
In my mind.
Wounds are opened,
The salty, stinging wounds
Of my soul.
I'm tired of sleeping,
But when the dreamns are over,
The real nightmare
Will begin.

Biographical Comments: My name is lesley a goodman and I'm a 13 year old girl. I'm an eighth grader at Neelsville Middle School. I like swimming, poetry, cats, and my friends.



By: Joanna Sarsfield

My pen is a messenger of my innermost thoughts and feelings.
I can express anything with it and sometimes it bursts out with creativity no one knew was there.
Feelings of love and hate flow on to the paper as I pour out every ounce of my soul.
Like Hermes to the gods, my pen tells stories to bring joy and laughter or saddness acompanyied by a tear.
Writing is just another form of communication, anything that is written can be spoken, but things that are written are remembered for years and years to come.
Words just flow out into the wind... and are forgotten.


Finding the Light

by: Sydney

What I want to say always comes out a jumbled mass of confusion and
instinct never was my strong point or featureless caverns I find myself trudging through continuosly, have no effect on my style.
Or maybe they do, I just haven't taken the time to notice.
I do  however, hear a loud silence as I hit my head on a stalagtite.
No one hears to be a comfort or be comforted, and I don't pursue the prospect any further as I get lost deeper in the dark.
Keeping my distance and setting up my 50 foot roadblocks, I'm careful to guard my weakness.
I try to build a strong foundation.
I keep my eyes open and my mouth shut for an escape.
As I search for the batteries for my flashlight, I search for motivation to continue my journey.
I will find the Light.

Biographical Comments: I am Sydney. I'm 14 years old and I decided that I'd like to search the web for poetry. I found this site first and so I came. I really like the poetry here. I play soccer and swim. I am just starting to get interested in poetry. I wanted to write something to see if I was any good and putting my feelings down on paper or, computer. This is what I came up with. It's not awesome or anything, but I hope you approve it because, well, I tried:)


Fears Unspoken

by: lisa/cj

In the day, so much to do
forget the pain that you once new
  As the darkness, it does fall
the pain and fear it will call
  In the mist, of the moon light
comes the terror, its so bright
  Clench the blankets, hold on tight
till the morning sun brings new light
  Now the rays, come shinning in
the fear is forgotten and your day can begin



by: Jillian Rose Ceithaml

I gave you pieces of me when I opened up to you.
I gave you my smile, my laugh, my soul.
I gave you my time, my innocence, and my first feelings of true love,
Never asking for anything in return.
Then I realized that your arms were filled with me
But my arms were empty.
The sweetness that glazed my own tongue
Turned sour.
I was desolate, searching for an exquisite moon.
The absence of your presence made me shiver,
The lonliness numbed my heart.

I sit here in a slumber of mourning
Waiting for tomorrow
Wishing this had never begun.
Sometimes I smile at you
To see if you still remember.
Sometimes I think you do.
I listened to you
When you told me you cared.
Now nothing matters.
Not even that word you once spoke:

Broken hearts, lost love, and dreams that failed to succeed.
The sun broke through the clouds
And small rays of sunshine
Brought feeling back to my heart.
I remember words spoken before me,
"Love doesn't mean leaning
And company doesn't mean security.
I learned that kisses aren't contracts
And presents aren't promises.
I am living today
No longer waiting for tomorrow.
I will plant my own garden
Instead of waiting for someone to bring me flowers."

I have survived many things.
From Winter's coldest night
To Summer's hottest day.
I can survive this.

Biographical comments: I am 19 years old and a student at the University of Michigan. I am most likely going to major in Business. I love writing poetry and drawing in my spare time because it relaxes me and replenishes my soul.


The Prettiest Blue

by: Tim Ponce
Homepage: Tim's Web Page

The prettiest blue
behind the clouds
is hidden for you
(the rain you found)
The sun is bright
(but not bright blue)
And the sky is light
that shines more true
than tacky yellow
that envies few
but not the sky--
the prettiest blue.

Biographical comments: I'm a 15 year old guy...I love to write. It's my first love. My second--definitely TORI AMOS. She rocks my world.



by: Nikki

Into the Night
Spread your wings
and Take flight.

Grasp His hand
as he offers it down.
It's your time to go...

You slipped through our fingers.
we were unable to hold.
You left us feeling empty...
and cold.

Unshed tears glisten..
in the corner of our eyes.
A thought of you make them slid down our chins.

Your soft sweet voice whispers to us like a dream.
I hear you say...Do not cry.
I am not hurting.
I am safe now...

I'm no longer in your life.
But I'll always be here.
Never did I part your heart.

Always remember the fun we had...
remember your dreams.
Think of me..but don't dwell.

I'm safe now.
I'm in His land.

Our thoughts and prayers of you...
fly across the sky like shooting stars.

God took you from us.
For reasons we know not.
The day you took his hand was the day...
He gained a beautiful angel.

Rest In shall never be forgotten.

In loving memory of Tracy Bayless...

Biographical comments: This poem was written for my friend, Tracy, who was killed in a car accident on Dec. 2, 1996. Tracy was 16 when she was killed. Also, her 14 year old sister was killed. Her mother survived the accident. Tracy's death has been very hard on me. She was the first close friend I've lost.



by: Ziana Qaiser

Far, vast and outstretched,
Seem like some eternity.
Deep, endless ocean of sand,
Will you drown me?
Endless expanse of glistening sands...
How far down will I go?
Before I rise above,
To reach the surface,
As your waves create ripples behind me,
And lead me on,
To the shores,
Of my Oasis.

Biographical comments: My name is Ziana Qaiser. I am 18 years old, just finished high school and am going on to university in Canada. I live in Oman, in the middle east.


Rainbow Tears

By: Larry D. Jennings

Poet's Homepage

Souls diamonds cast upon uncaring Earth
Like salty ocean's spray
Reflecting both our grief or joyful mirth
From birth 'til dying day.

Man's precious, freely given gift is spent
In opalescent hues
To pay the price of broken lives, now rent
Or death's unhappy dues.

Are we not Adam's seed  one race  mankind?
All brothers, sisters, kin?
Must eyes bleed rainbow tears 'til we are blind?
View not pale Charon's grin!

The deadly beasts called man, a threat to all,
Kill what they want  not need.
Time's sands, so like our tears' eternal fall,
Will end the hate and greed.

'Tis time we tred more softly life's short trail
Don't ask, "What can I do?".
Ere mankind whimpers, "God, how did we fail?".
And hear, "It's in plain view!".

Our differences and varied outer shells
Should be left in the past.
Pray for world peace, where love and kindness dwells.
Fate's dice have long been cast.

Biographical comments: I have been exposing my thoughts to the world, yet remain saddened by the too clear fate we all face lest great changes occur at imminent speed. Three decades of screaming my anger into the darkening face of eternity have failed to cease the heinous charge of my "four horsemen"  greed, bigotry, hatred, and their leader, apathy. I release my feelings, good or sad, to the world caring not for accolades or greatness  merely wishing for apathy's demise. May care's sharp arrow of love slay the "four" and bring us all from the brink of a stygian abyss.



by: John Bramblitt

Time ran dim
A hurried look
Both left and right.
Cross the road quickly
Lest murderous eyes
Would notice.
Panting dry breath
No sound is heard.
Easy. Easy.
Your breathing resumes
And your heart
Restarts ir's labor.
A hiss sounds behind you
Not of steam,
But of spite.
A dark clothed woman
With mad hair
Stands there
With a single crooked finger
Stretching it's invisible line
To you.
Lights come on.
You are noticed.
You are lost.

Biographical comments:  I'm enrolled at Clayton University to become a Naturopathic Physician. I am extremely interested in bettering my poetry and would welcome any criticism you would like to make.



by: Raven

Creeping, reaching,
Cold and black.
striking young and old,
man and woman alike.
It does not think,
And can not see.
There is no difference,
Christian, Buddhist or Me.
What if?
This or that,
Its here to be.
I've looked, I've tried,
Just be here with me!


by: Raven

She Stood, She Looked, She Was Here . . .
She thought why, as I have no tears,
Can I move on without fear.

The choice's that have been made,
And the choice's to be made,
I just hope I don't fade.

You all Can't understand me,
Its just being what I am!
I spend my days looking back, and see . . .

The choice's that have been made,
And the choice's to be made,
I just hope I don't fade.

2 halves, 1 whole, 2 places  GONE.
It didn't happen, it can't happen, IT wont happen  GONE.
I'm half a whole - set free  GONE.

She had to, She needed to.
I knew, She could not,
I Loved Her, still I'm happy.

The choice's that have been made,
And the choice's to be made,
I just hope I don't fade.

I know now, Its done
She's gone, we're gone, It's gone,
I just feel so Slack.

The choice's that have been made,
And the choice's to be made,
I just hope I don't fade.

Now another is gone, he was a great man.
He is gone for good, that I do understand.
Its just being me, only I can.

There are others, with their minds - SO BRIGHT!
I don't know what to ask or how to say,
but of these feelings, I am right?

The choice's that have been made,
And the choice's to be made,
I just hope I don't fade.

I was there and she saw, but can she see me.
I feel and hope, and need to try.
It will happen, or may, or might,  that's just me.

The choice's that have been made,
And the choice's to be made,
I just hope I don't fade.

As I look in her eyes,
Oh - the detail I see.
With a mind so deep, Can She even like me.

Biographical comments:  I'm well just a normal sort of guy, I work three days a week, go to TAFE to do a Diploma of Info-Tech, and am a member of Raven Team, well ok so my life isn't as normal as it looks, but enjoy my poetry, these are my first two attempts at poetry!


Love's Ballad

by: Jeannette Ingrid Durick

The forest floor - a fruit laden green -
Had seemed the perfect bed,
To the lovers stretched beside the cliffs
Whose bulk shone overhead.
And like a pack of wolves whose tongues
Were governed by the wind,
The grooves in those cliff faces howled
A taunting, whispy din.
The oaks and ashes bared their arms,
Toward these haughty sounds
To shelter those young, dreamy lovers
In oblivion, on the ground.
It seemed that Nature, desperately
Would fight to hide the truth
That life was sometimes cruel and ugly,
Armed with many a reproof.

No single God had wished to break
The spell of naive faith,
That man and woman, dewey eyed,
Kindled with each embrace.
But war was soon to reach that land,
To grope and tear at beauty.
The oaks and ashes would no longer stand,
And her lover soon called to "duty".
Afraid that she should lose him to
The power of dark invaders,
Her last night with him was spent in prayer
Both begged "Dear Gods, please save us!"
But it was written in the stars,
And nothing could be done,
Evil would blow it's ugly horn
Shredding dreams and lives for fun.

She woke, and as she felt her side,
Fate whispered in her ear
"Soulmate and brother, friend and lover
In blood - has disappeared."
She screamed for him, to no avail.
She thrashed her arms with passion.
At last when silent from all those tears
She saw him brightly fashioned
Bare and solemn his spirit stood,
With glassy eyes, before her.
And in sad tones he spoke and said
"My Love, I felt your torture.
Forgive me please, and hear the words
That I have come to say:
I'll love you with my heart and soul
Forever and a day.
I swear to you that once again
We shall exist together.
Through the light of life, and murky death
Your love holds me in its tether.
I ask that you forget me not,
I ask that you wait for me,
Until we meet again as friends
Of love, not misery."

It was then she cried, with new found tears
As emotions rattled though her
She felt the same as her Dear Love -
Her pain embedded like a tumour.
"I swear to you that once again
We shall exist together.
Through the light of life, and murky death
Your love holds me in its tether.
I ask that you forget me not,
I ask that you wait for me,
Until we meet again as friends
Of love, not misery."
Bowing her head as she shed one last tear,
She now knew that love had its pride.
And this knowledge was etched in her pale face at death:
For her life to return, she must die.

© Jeannette Ingrid Durick
June 30, 1997


Almost A Stranger - for Janet

Almost a stranger -
Another naive soul.
Pestering your intelligence,
In constant awe of all
That you uttered, breathed
And felt.
Such a passion for your literature.
Such a beacon.
Such a light
Stirred my lazy heart,
- Filled my daydreams with delight.

If only I had known you more -
Free from hourly durations
To tarry in those clever eyes.
To bond with one
To share your feast
Your visceral plight
The knowledge of generations.
- Perhaps this ode would cut much deeper,
To mourn a lady, fair.
A tutor who could frighten me
Embolden  sharpen  spare.

© March, 1997

Biographical comments: I dabble in a little poetry - but don't take myself TOO seriously (not usually anyway). I'm currently studying Psychology and English Literature, and fantasize about obtaining a CREATIVE career  ) Music and poetry are my "secret" life.


The Wind Blows
by: Tracy Ann Dunne

Off in the distance I hear a child's cry.
The soft icy breeze carries the heart wrenching screams
I can do nothing but sigh
Was this child awakened by horrific dreams?
And the wind blows.

I watch as a man sleeps in the street.
A cold breeze chilling his long lost and rambling soul.
His breath has a raspy beat
Will this man's life go untold?
And the wind blows.

I gaze over the lifeless paved road
And spy a small boy diving into a monstrous Dumpster
It's jaws of steel ready take hold
No smiling eyes or childlike wonder
And the wind blows


World of Fire

Jump into a world of fire
Tangled mazes of desire
Which way to turn upon the path
Can you survive the wrath
Of life's infanticide
You cannot hide
Nor run from the illusions
Declare your confessions
Before your faceless god
Show him you are flawed

Race against the winds of time
Listen to the death toll chime
Watch our world fade away
Into another forgotten day
Reach out to your brother
Take his soul be his Asher
We can change the path of fate
If we do not hesitate
Jump into a world of fire
It takes one soul to inspire

Cradle the earth within your hands
Heal the dying woodlands
Feed a child with your love
Save the vanishing turtledove
Take this world into you heart
Rip the voiceless demons apart

Save the beauty of one soul
Escape from your barren foxhole
Come together in this war
You can be our silent savior


Lost World

People living in the streets.
Barely enough food to eat.
Babies crying in solemn pain.
Will they see the sun again?
Money's short for families.
One too many mouths to feed.
Where's our god in times like these.
Gone under floods are apple tress.
Illness strikes the innocent down.
Sadness fills the hearts of clowns.
Gone is the world of innocence.
Lost in a planet of remembrance.
Here we stand but look away.
Is this the awful price we pay?
For ignorance is never bliss.
When we live in a world like this.



trapped in thick skin

by: Raeney Haverlah

this body is on fire
and trapped in thick skin
surrounded by darkness
hated by kin
silent screams
of torture
and frustration
echo only in her ears
struggling to breathe
caught in dark's binding hold
shutting out the light of day
bringing in the cold
peace and comfort
foreign things
to her world of despair
sending out
the demons of hate
to rest with her there

Biographical comments: I am called Raeny, and am 15 years old, in body anyway. I love poetry both reading and writing it. Most of my poetry is dark because I feel it is a way to express myself.


A Day Like this

by: Cin
Homepage: Cin's Place

Let me be by myself
so I can gather up my thoughts
my mind is wandering away again
to a place where solace is sought
I'm giving without thinking again
it's been awhile since I've felt this way
I'd rather be selfish and satisfied
than go through another day
like this
And one part of me wants you
while the other says no you can't
eliminating future possibilities
this relationship has no chance
one part of me wants to call out to you
and the other is walking away
I'd just rather be selfish and satisfied
than go through another day
like this
so much to ask you
so much I should have said
but words are worthless
when your emotions are dead
Afraid of love
afraid of silly games
afraid of failure
and being the one to blame
it's always me isn't it ?
these thoughts provoking
my anger
when you're not here
even when you're with me
you're not as near
as I need you to be
Am I incapable
or is it just fear?
I'm tired, all I know is this
a silent, finally spoken wish
Please God
don't let me go through
another day like this

Biographical comments: I live in Washington and have had my own homepage for a little over a month now. It is a place where I share my writing and therefore my experiences with others.


The Weaver

by: Caroline

Weaver sitting at the loom,
Spinning stories of our doom,
Tapestries of death and hate,
Are woven to become our fate,

Weaver, weaver, tell me why,
Why do you make the lone dove cry,
Weaver, weaver at the loom,
Tell me why this came so soon.

Weaver lighting up our days,
Bringing dawn and sun's sweet rays,
From your hands all life will flow,
Animals and crops will grow.

Weaver, weaver tell me why,
The fish they swim and birds do fly,
Weaver, weaver at the loom,
How did you make the sky so blue.

Weaver spinning colored threads,
Making wheat into our bread,
Colors flowing from your hands,
Bring the water to our lands.

Weaver, weaver tell me why,
Floods waters wash our fields dry,
Weaver, weaver at the loom,
Tell me why our town's in ruins.

Weaver bringing thread to life,
Helping us in times of strife,
Once the thread has all been spun,
The day will end and night's begun.

Weaver, weaver tell me why,
The stars are hanging from the sky,
Weaver, weaver at the loom,
Tell me how you made the moon.

Now the threads are all used up,
The weaver sits, the loom it stops,
When the night is passing through,
The weaver sleeps and so do you.

Weaver, weaver tell me why,
You sleep and bring the shadows nigh.
Weaver, weaver at the loom,
Tell me why they come so soon.

Weaver working hard all day,
To lead us where your fancies may,
You lead our lives to where you please,
Controlling us with total ease.

Weaver, weaver tell me why,
Our fates they come from in the sky,
Weaver, weaver at the loom,
Tell me how you weave our doom.

Biographical comments: I'm 13 and write depressing poems for fun. O.K. so this isn't that depressing but I've done much worse.  I like to read and this poem was based (not copied) on the religious beliefs of the people in a book I was reading.  If anyone knows the book or author please e-mail me.


This World of All

by: Backstage Belle

Lonely, in this world of people.
Everywhere I look, they're there.
Yet I still feel so alone.
They aren't close to me,
Nor will they ever be.
I doubt they even care.
So alone I shall travel,
Until I reach a special haven.
'Till I reach the world of all.

Biographical comments: I'm just me. Can't really be anyone else. And how am I supposed to summarize myself, my life, in a small box on a small computer screen. It just can't be done.


Before Its Too Late

by: Allen Cleveland

It's more than I realize
the way we've grown apart
Out love isn't happy
and no more an art
It gets harder to love you
as each leaf falls
Our kisses aren't as deep
we've built so many walls
Its not that I like it
It just happened that way
We've fought, we've hated
Our love will soon decay
but maybe we'll settle
or maybe compromise
but the way it now stands
neither will win the prize
we can't talk to each other
we can communicate
I hope we get it together
before its too late.

Biographical comments: I started writing poetry when I was supposed to be listening to my history teacher. When I finished my first poem, my English teacher posted it on the bulliten board. No one would believe that I had written it. I went on the college to take some creative writing classes. I am now writing a novel.


Teri Dickey is a "young-at-heart" grandmother. She has a very deep belief that there are many things which are just beyond the reach of our human comprehension. Quietly Sleep (the second poem), is based upon one of those concepts. She feels that there is a love and unity between certain people which is so strong that it allows those two people the ability to be together in spirit even though they may not be able to be together physically.

Our Endless Love

By: Teri Dickey "Rockyjay"

I was going thru the motions of my day
With only fleeting thoughts of him.
When suddenly my breath was taken away
And that old fire began again.
Faintly -- at first -- almost too small to mention,
Then the burst of heat -- consuming me
And demanding my attention.

He's here, I know he's here-reaching out to me.
I don't know how, I don't know why, or where
I just know that I feel him, sense him, you see.
And he's reaching out to me from over there.

It's the energy of an "Endless Love",
And the vast emptiness we hold within,
That keeps the fire from dying and saves us
And joins these hearts again.

I've ceased trying to understand, or to guess
What the future may hold
For these two spirits entwined and tangled
So closely into one soul.
Be patient and hold on - "All things work for good For those who love the Lord."
If what they say is really true,
Then why must waiting be so hard?

So we go on-sharing the dream in the wee hours
And believing that this "Endless Love" of ours
Into reality may some day be turning.

Stolen words with so little time-they are
So precious and so few,
Draining our hearts and feeling the fire
Flowing from me into you.
Now back to the lives we must live apart
With our love neatly tucked away
Just beneath that old flame in our hearts
Waiting patiently for "Our Day".

Biographical Comments: This is the third time I have submitted my poems to the Cabin. I have not had the time I would like to write for a while, but now I am pushing myself to get back to "my work". I don't know about other poets, but emotion forces me to write. My poems are emotions that overflow and cannot be contained in my heart. I would like to receive email from anyone interested in my poems.

An Open Door

Here it is, the open door.
What will you do now?
Will you look at the floor
And walk away-
Or will you walk through
And deal with whatever
Is Inside?

It's very frightening -
It could be bad.
The unknown is always
The worst fear.
But What If?
What if it's good?
What if it's happiness?
What if it's wealth?
What if it's forever love?

The weak turn and go.
It takes strength to take a chance.
Reach for the door knob,
Give it a turn.
Take that first step
And don't look back.
It could be bad--
But what if it's not?


Quietly sleep
Let your mind go.
Travel to me
Body and soul.

Spirit loose
And wondering free
From your bed
To lie with me

Let your thoughts
Mingle with mine.
Dream your dreams
Our souls to combine.

Quietly sleep
Whisper your prayer.
Patiently wait-
I will be there.

Spread your arms
Open and wide.
Very soon now-
I'll lie at your side.

Quietly sleep
Holding my heart.
It's belonged to you
From the very start.

Relax -- believe in me
Quietly sleep
And lie with me.

The next two poems were also submitted by Teri Dickey. I like them both very much and am sure you will too. More of her comments are included at the end of the poems.



There are millions who cross our path
As we make our way thrugh this maze we call "life".
With some, we share happiness and joy.
But only a sacred few are there during our strife.

Those we thought would always care,
And be there when we're weak,
Somehow disappear-
When comfort and campassion we seek.

There are no signs upon their brows,
No certificates for us to read-
No way of knowing when or how-
They'll be there in times of need.

It only comes when we hurt
Too deeply for words to say,
When the fear drives us first,
And all we can do is pray.

Then we open our eyes and there they are,
These Special Ones of The Earth-
The ones given the gift from above,
That comes only through giving birth.

Their love is there-without question,
Always knowing how to soothe our tears-
While letting us learn the lessons
They've been learning for years.

How do they know and sense our fears
Yet give us room to grow?
These Special Ones of The Earth
Just always seem to know.


Hovering above, I feel so free.
Who is it I see, is it really me?
No -- surely not!
Cold and lifeless in that spot.

I thought I knew my face
Every line - every trace.
But now, somehow-it's all so new.
I look at myself and ask--"Who?"

Floating, floating, moving free,
It's me, it's really me.
The light pulls me, draws me near.
I'm going swiftly without fear.

Embrace me in your light-
Combine with mine and hold me tight.
My friends-you're all around.
On Earth, there were none to be found.

I've longed for your warmth, your caring touch.
Didn't know until now, how very much.
Teach me fast, teach me all--
I'm hovering and I might fall.

No? You won't let me go? I know that now.
I just don't yet understand how.
Hovering above--I feel so free.
Yet it is, it's really me.

By Teri Dickey

The last poem was written after reading a book entitled "Embraced By The Light". It is intended to reflect the thoughts Mrs. Eadie might have had as she died and left her body lying on the hospital bed. I was so moved by her book that I wrote four poems immediately upon closing the last page.


These next two interesting poems were submitted by Richard Lovejoy. He has a very unique way of expressing his thoughts not only in poetic form but in the visual presentation as well. Very good example of "concrete" poetry.


               slip       swivel,
         words             locked
Sweeping                      in  a

  she now grow still--
  sapphire eyes shudder more
  than her body, slight
  against the moonlight

  she bites her lip,
     and stares at me intently
                         my hands meet my eyes


Everything must embrace
                                         the    dust
        Do lovers come to?
                                         fails to
Her slender fingers
through his windwept            set
hair                                         tle
     all of this
       sent to
         dust                     stings eyes of which
                                                 will become
My blood and my bones
My collapsing emerald eyes    which dipped
                                                freely of your
All of this

                 intercepts with dust

You hold ashes                        in a fist
  Slowly drip between             your fingers
                                            soon seduced
                                               by the dust

By my lips and your cheek
  And what could be
     I know in                                     this must

By: Richard Lovejoy


Barry voices what I'm sure is a universal concern for most young adults these days. Are we listening?


By: Barry Clay

Our ideas straight,
Our voices Clear,
Why is it adults,
Refuse to hear,

No one to listen,
No one to care,
Pretend not to look
But of course they stare.

We are the next generation
Living on this earth
Living with its problems
And wondering what its worth..

We are always being Judged,
By our adults or peers,
While inside,
We try to confront our fear.


This poem was submitted by Kathy Gold.


In my darkest hour
I need you most
To guide me
To reassure me
That I'm going to make it thru

To help me resist temptations, distractions
and keep me on track

For this is by far
the hardest thing I've ever done
For the first time in my life
I don't know if I will win

With so many obstacles ahead of me
I just want to run
Run far away and never look back
but I can't................anymore

Sometimes I can't even look at my path
without a tear falling from my eye
But I know in my soul
I can't turn back now
I've done that all my life

So I must take a stand, once and for all
and confront my road
I must travel down it
and confront whatever it throws

And come thru to the other side

Where I know you will be waiting with open arms.

Copyright 1997 Kathy Gold All Rights Reserved


The next two poems were written by Tracee Coleman.

Although Tracee admits she is not a prolific writer, she has an interesting outlook on poetry and has submitted these poems for the guest room.

Birdwatching and Healing Heaviness

Speak to me father of the mountain lake,
of the waterfalls which feed her.
Remind me of the gentle pines. Take
me there again--where birds will stir

When brush cracks beneath a heavy boot.

Teach me again to walk with bare feet,
to honor earth like a Cherokee.
Remind me where lake and river meet,
that birds might like to watch me--

If lightly I flow through their trees.

1991 Tracee Coleman



I watch them
and wonder
how many times
you and I will sit
with ceramic eyes,
brown, glazed and fired,
locked in a primal gaze,
then swing away
like nothing happened
before we finally
edge in close enough
to mingle arms,
rub heads, grunt,
lick each other's face.

1991 Tracee Coleman


The next four poems were written by Nathaniel S.J. Chan

Nathaniel is 18 years old and lives in San Mateo, California in the heart of the peninsula. He's always enjoyed writing but mostly has just looked at it as a way to express his feelings in this place called earth. To use his words "to take my feelings out of my head and into reality." He hopes that his poems may open people's minds to the fact that everything is magic.

Magic & Mystery

Everything is magic, the ocean, the land, life and living it.
Don't you see with your magic eyes life's great mystery?
Love and peace should rule us, not hatred and petty drama.
Stress is killing us all, confusion, lack of common courtesy and sense.
Believe in whatever religion you want or whatever god you please,
Because they're all the same thing, the same united thought.
They're all thanking the one that made all of this possible.
The one that gave us life.

Be grateful that you have the luxury to
Have made it this far knowing how frail the human body is.
I wonder why you aren't amazed that the sheer pain of birth
Didn't lay you upon heaven's door crying.



I Live In A Gray Rainy Day World

I live in a gray rainy day world. Shadows run from every tree, every light pole that shines too brightly. I wish someone would dim them. My cigarette leaves a thick nicotine flavor too gross to swallow so I spit, take another hit, letting it fall to step on it while walking by another house. My hair, long and curly, whips furiously at times playing with the wind. I can feel them wanting to go and play as if the wind calls each hair to dance. God these idle thought hurts my head, nothing else to do except watch this cloudy, unfocused world. The rain comes down now wet and stream like, funny how I never really noticed the rain before the first feeling of it on my skin. The way they drop and the constant rhythm that surrounds me engulfs me, ahh - too much thinking. The rain pours steadily harder now, I look to a stone overhang. Then walking toward it I lean against the cylinder which holds it up, run my fingers through my dripping wet hair, pull out my last cigarette, light it with my zippo, take a couple drags and watch the rain some more. It's dark, very dark except for the streetlights. Take a hit or two more, damn gotta be home soon. I flip my ocular up and walk out into the rain again, the sound engulfs me once more. I think to my self another day of my life draws to its conclusion and yet another day draws near.



I Wish I Was A Painter

I wish I was a painter so that I could paint your soul in a million different points of view.
In a million different scenes in time each painted for you,
but to shame - and alas for sure
a poet I am - or mage wanting more.
So I'll write with my poet hands. Loving you. Awaiting God's requests,-
because down here we're all his guests
and Jesus, one of many suns-
will burn the plastic people's guns -
until that one fine day he comes-
I'll write my poems one by one.



The Clouds Look Like Another World

The clouds look like another world as I sit upon my rooftop, staring into the horizon. At dawn the sun worms of the already golden clouds, throwing pinks and purples around like a true artist. Behind me the darkness still stirs over the mountains waiting and inpatient. I wonder sometimes is this all really worth it. A slowly rolling ocean of clouds cloak the sun but not the suns light. Light rays shoot across the land warning us of dawns approach, warming our faces, showing a lifetime of pictures in every second. Then I tell myself yes it is all worth it, close my sun drenched eyes and lay to sleep already dreaming.

The Garden

by: Josephina

The garden of life was predictable and familiar to all
Yet each day was a challenge and I rose to its call.
Then unexplainably, an individual unknown
Came to my world and a new seed was sown.

Where did he come from, why was he suddenly here?
Questions were many, the answers were so unclear.
Strange feelings, mysterious and new,
A love unknown, blossomed and grew.

Decisions were made, fears arose
What problems would all of this pose?
Miraculously, opportunity showed her beautiful face
A time, a plan, a special place.

The day arrived when we ultimately met
It was then I truly knew, this was a love I had never known as yet.
Endless moments of comfort, wonder and touch
Tenderness and love I did not know I longed for so much.

What are the reasons, how could this be?
Suddenly we were one -- him and me.
And although distance separates us and keeps us apart
He will forever be close, here in my thoughts....
here in my heart.



by: Bridgett Hauserman

As I sit in the shadow of life,
I quietly contemplate all reason,
and I soon lie in confusion,
as I drift past the seasons.

I am forever in search of my place,
the reason why I am here,
but as time slips by,
I am overcome with fear.

I know I have a purpose,
I can feel it in my heart,
a mission that was meant for me,
but just when am I to start?

Why can't I just be at peace,
and accept that all is meant to be,
instead I continue my endless search,
to find my destiny.

But what if destiny is mearly but a game,
a trick of the mind that will leave us in shame,
when we realize there is no purpose, no place meant to be,
soon the day will come when we all will see.

April 8/96


King Time

by: Richard C. Smith

Consuming---the pace that rules the day
Our lives sustained within it.
A rigid clock that heeds no man.
It's wrath has buried many.
A grinding wheel that crushes all,
But happily we oil it.
The masochistic love we give
To the King that runs us weary.
He tolerates out human ways.
He has no other choices.
We punish ourselves, hence his edicts.
He lives to see us down.


Passing On

by: Valerie Hardin

Passing a almost dead life
To her own embryo
Hopping with the birth
That people would call her more than whore
But it could not change her poison
To pass on that carnal knowledge
To another soul and call her daughter
To light the child's eyes with her reflection
Telling her what weight her angel should be
That beauty will give you everything
That deformities should be crucified with nail after nail
Until their pain runs clear
For surgeons can always cut away ugly skin
And lips can be painted red


Once Red

by: Valerie Hardin

Like king soloman
He picked a mistress
Flowers freshly dead in her hand
Jewels placed around her pink throat
They danced drunk on kisses
Beloved above the wife
Then with winter she was cast
Away for another harlot
His kisses fewer had
Become like sugar placed on a bleeding wound
Her flowers frosted over
Once red now only dark ice splinters
And the thorns around her heart got tighter still


I Dreamed

by: CDog

I dreamed such a place existed and it became real
I dreamed of a higher love and it became real
I dreamed my whole life and it too became real
Now all I do is dream it away
The chances I had; but lost
the friends I made; but lost
the love I made but lost
I live day to day trying to dream it away.


by: Taylor Rhys

Looking into drunken eyes I see
A little boy.
I wonder what he is hiding
I wonder if he is only hiding himself.
Those eyes almost reach out to me
In their sorrow,
apparent lack of love from within.
All is darkness, futility,
the passion of a Russian heart
bent on preserving the cold dark winter
of his soul.

As the little boy stumbles into the darkness of the city
I know
There is no rescuing him.
He does not see in the mirror
what I see with my eyes
what I see with my heart.

He mistakenly sees his beer as his reflection,
a part of him, defining who he is.
We look at him and see who he is and
Who he can become.
We mourn the man that is so blind to this.

I would shake him and clear his eyes
But he is a big boy now, and not wanting
I don't understand this, for his life is good,
and can only get better, if he would only
shine light into the darkness to see the mouse
behind the monster.

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