366 Poems: December 1st, 2016

Christmas List

It’s very difficult to write a Christmas list

when you’re 17,

mainly because nothing you really want can be given.

For example: dear family,

for Christmas this year, I would like…

a free ride to college,

a way to stop time,

a semester full of art classes,

a new President Elect,

a CD for my car with room for 50+ songs,

cheaper gas,

a smaller desire to go to Dairy Queen each night,

a clear future,

a chance for my boyfriend to VERY INNOCENTLY spend the night,

a chance to sleep in,

a chance to eat breakfast,

a chance to go to bed at a reasonable hour,

a chance to figure

everything

out…

.

Maybe adults need a Santa Claus too.

“Grown Up Christmas List”
http://gensoukai12.deviantart.com/

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366 Poems: October 23rd, 2016

Acne-Prone

Please excuse the spots on my face.

For it’s been a couple

late nights

where the work and stress outrun

the bathroom sink,

making me look like a teenager

in some coming-of-age movie.

Oh wait.

I am.

But I’be got no makeup artists here.

Just a face

with some eyes

and a brain

and a plan to change my entire world

for the better…

Do not excuse my face.

This is my game face.

And you’re gonna have to get used to it.

366 Poems: August 28th, 2016

Beautiful Mess

Some day my room will be clean

and some day my life will be too.

Some day I’ll sleep in a freshly-made bed

with my sheets at my toes

and my dreams in my head,

and with you.

Oh but time is still running its mouth

speaking too fast to know

what it’s talking about.

And I know I’ll have fun

in a week, or a year…

but my greatest love is the mess I have

right here.

“Room of Disaster”
http://mommaphant.deviantart.com/

366 Poems: July 14th, 2016

Highway

It’s funny how I sit here

at 16

trying to figure out the way I want the rest of my life

to be,

and where my highway lies.

And these roads I go on

tell me I can go anywhere

but behind me,

and yet I never expected happiness

to be so hard

to recognize.

366 Poems: April 25th, 2016

Here I Go

Oh alas,

I can feel it happening now

as I sign my life away.

Here it begins,

oh the horror–

I can feel myself slipping out of control

and I fight it.

Oh, the grip is strong

and so tempting–

gosh it pulls me in so quickly.

Oh no,

here I go

to a land of no return

where I will spend each passing day

looking for escape.

Oh alas,

I can feel it happening now…

as I slowly

surely

inevitably

become

an adult.

Millenials

The kisses you place on my hand decree

that you and I are part of the wrong century:

when holding hands on the street was simply done,

before we were a part of the millennium

and the grandfathers said, “Oh how lucky they are!

To live in such a progressive time…”

.

Oh but take a moment to listen to our tales

and mourn all of the wars that we fight.

The Evangelicals said the world would end with us…

and you know?

Perhaps they were right.

.

Take her hand, filled with rainbows,

and listen to her laugh:

“Oh aren’t I so lucky

to not have to remember

the year I was born?

Oh aren’t I so fortunate

to not have to remember why

or when?

To say I was an accident,

unplanned, unprepared,

a product of a love that didn’t last?”

Take her hand, as you walk down the street,

and dodge the stones and picket signs

thrown outside the churches who advertise

that they’ll host your weddings for free.

“Oh aren’t I so lucky

to fall in love

in the 21st century?”

Pat his back, hunched in a chair,

and watch him hit the buttons on his phone:

“Please don’t make me leave my machine.

I’m escaping

to the only world that doesn’t seem like a lie.

School doesn’t help, college is too much,

and the world outside is dying

from the source of my electricity.

Oh but this game is so much more fun

than the one out there that I can’t win.

Please, don’t take my freedom away.”

Pat his back, and look out the locked window

at the skylines of garbage in the distance,

casting shadows on the great corporate skyscrapers

with a hundred million cubicles sitting empty.

“Oh please let me be;

I’m trying to survive

the 21st century.”

Dry her eyes, framed in red,

and hold her as she dies in the street:

“It’s better than it used to be,

now that the disasters come so often

and affect so many.

The shootings, the prejudice, the inequality:

at least every day’s new hashtag

lets us know that we’re listening,

and I’m just one more loss

that will start another mass movement

and finally bring us peace…”

Dry her eyes, as you stand up tall and strong,

and watch the bombs as they fall down

through the beautiful blue sky marked by grey trails

and a half-staff flag flying in the breeze.

“It’s better than it used to be,

to create change

in the 21st century.”

And we’re not saying that things haven’t gotten better.

That change is not gradual,

that victories are perfect,

that we have not come so far in this thousand years

and are still going strong to this day.

.

We’re saying that this

is what we’re growing up with,

this

is what we’re learning to face,

and this

is what we’re afraid of.

.

This is why we’re still holding hands.

“End of the World”
http://neriak.deviantart.com/

(Note: This is will be recorded as “366 Poems: March 2nd, 2016” in my 366 Poems project. However, I really wanted this piece to be a powerful one, so I formatted it the way that I thought would make the most impact.)

366 Poems: February 1st, 2016

Dragon Fire

“Oh just be the dragon, darling–

be the beast they’re looking for

with those scales and claws so perfect

that they’ll never hear the roar.

“They’ll just see the queen, so shiny

in the cage marked, ‘Do Not Touch.’

Better not disturb the balance

that you have to love so much.

“Keep your eyes bright and your scales clean

like a good monster would do,

and take care to not fight back–

for they might just split you in two.”

Oh but what about my prince?

“Oh please, don’t even think to try

and take some love to your treasure trove

where his dirty fingers pry.

“Oh just listen to me, darling

and I’m sure you’ll be a sight

when you’re just what they want you to be

and spread your wings in– what?”

” What are you doing?”

“Put me down!”

Oh my damsel, caring sweetheart,

you are kind to say the least

and although I think you do mean well

you forget, I’m a beast.

“But where are you taking me?”

Just a cave deep underground

where I’ll hide among imperfect gems

and never make a sound.

Oh my dear…

If you search for perfect monsters,

there is one thing you should learn:

if you wish to play with fire,

then you’d best expect to burn.