The Bird is the Word: Sophisticated Schoolyard Shenanigans
By Tahra Dactyl
Humans are incredible at acting,
except not on a conventional stage.
We act on a stage of discrimination:
sexism,
religious intolerance,
homomisia,
racism.
A stage of social constructs.
We have doomed ourselves to lives
of acting.
Pretending we’re someone we’re not.
Forced into personas by our fear of being left out,
our fear of being seen as
different.
We’re all good at acting,
because
of our stage fright.
Editor: Renée Vazquez
By Renée
I looked at her
felt my heart fall to the floor
and begged the earth to
swallow me.
I fought with her.
She made me cry.
She wanted me to leave.
She said I wasn’t worthy for my dreams.
She cried too.
I could see right through her–
she was disintegrating–
and a pain in my chest burst through.
Then I splashed some water on my face
and walked away from the mirror.
Editor: Claire Jenkins
Poet Blogger Makena Behnke reminds us March is National Women’s History Month.
don’t tell me how to wear my hair
don’t tell me how much makeup to wear
don’t tell me you don’t like my style
and definitely don’t tell me to smile
maybe in your small dumb brain you think it’s flattering
but in our big broad minds it makes us want to scream
screaming, though, is no big fun
our voices hurt and then get numb
though they turn to deep, hoarse voices
maybe then you’ll think we should have some choices
–women’s day is everyday
Editor: Shelby Armor
By Makena Behnke
i don’t miss you
i miss having someone like you, but i don’t miss you
i miss the shopping sprees and the fun times we rarely had
i don’t miss the judgment or the condescending attitude towards everything i like and do
i don’t miss you being overdramatic and making everything about you
i miss the eating out and trips to Costco for a berry ice cream sundae
i miss the “whatever you want”
i don’t miss the “that’s what you want?”
i miss the dogs
i miss the house
i miss the husband
i miss the having whatever you want whenever you want
but i certainly
do not
miss
you.
Editor: Renée Vazquez
By Claire Jenkins
An Open Letter to Parents,
Your child is worth more than their GPA
Your child is worth more than the colleges they get into
Your child is worth more than the sports they play
Your child is going to get hurt, but they will heal
Your child is going to fall in love; it will be messy, but it will be beautiful
Your child is going to make mistakes, but they will learn
Your child is trying to figure themselves out, so be patient
Your child is trying to make you proud, so don’t pressure them
Your child is trying their best.
Sincerely,
A child
Editor: Shelby Armor
By Guest Blogger-Poet Jackson Dean
I’m done;
Two weeks ago, 14 teens and 3 adults were killed at Stoneman Douglas High School by a young man with an AR-15.
I’m done;
Parents, husbands, and wives have to face the fact that the one they love most will never return to them.
I’m done;
Instead of honoring the victims and attempting to make much needed change, our President tweets about how it was the students’ fault for not saying something before the attack occurred.
I’m done;
Young survivors of the school shooting, who have become outright protestors of gun control, are demanding change and have received death threats.
I’m done;
Instead of reforming gun control, and preventing school shootings in the future, Congress members have only sent “thoughts and prayers.”
I’m done;
“Thoughts and prayers” have been sent to every recent school shooting. No action is taken. Things go silent; and then the next shooting occurs.
I’m done;
I’ve already written one poem about a shooting this year. It’s becoming more and more commonplace, and less riveting to write these poems.
I’m done;
My subtleties and nuances that I once used to mask the message of these shootings have run dry.
I’m done;
I am sad, confused, and angry.
I’m done;
Moreover, I am scared. Scared for my life.
I’m done;
I am terrified that I will become a statistic, just like the 17 victims.
I’m done;
And you should be too.
Editor: Claire Jenkins
By Anne
My feelings are always wrong,
except for guilt which is what I deserve to feel
and the fear that must always control me:
My sadness and anger are selfish;
My happiness is a burden and a chore;
My very existence has brought hardship,
And my fault it has always been.
My job is to fix everything broken
and to hide from the world while doing it.
All people are evil inside;
To form relationships is a careless thing
–but being alone is pathetic.
My reality
fictional.
My opinions
wrong.
That which I love doing
isn’t worth doing.
At least this is what you’ve taught me.
Editor: Brennan Nick
By Shelby Armor
The Desert Town Hall Forum hosts Caroline Kennedy, former U.S. Ambassador to Japan, next Thursday, March 8. Typically, the Youth Town Hall invites high school students to meet the featured speakers. Because Ambassador Kennedy is such a force in the poetry world (editing 19 New York Times best-selling anthologies), The Desert Town Hall Forum sponsored a poetry contest in her honor. The theme? “Giving Back”–for Ms. Kennedy and her extended family “exemplify a dedication to public service.” Shelby submitted the following poem:
Time is a fleeting thing
Going by before the chance to reflect is given
Going by with too many forgotten moments
My dad told me of Times where he went through battles
Battles he fought for his country
Battles he fought for himself
Battles he fought for his parents
He told me that these Times possessed lessons
He told me to always give a firm handshake
To never give opposers the satisfaction of victory,
Even if it hurts
I took these lessons with me through my life
And Time passed
The ever-fading moments flitting by me,
As I desperately tried to hold onto his lessons
And to form my own
When my father passed, I kept his memories with me
And when my children would ask about him,
I passed on his lessons
Telling of the battles he fought
And the things he sacrificed
I gave back everything he taught me
I gave them my own memories of Times gone by
The lessons I learned
The ones I took with me
The battles for myself
The battles for my dad
The battles for them
They took these lessons with them
And I knew that I had given them all I could
Lessons from fleeting Times that have passed
Editor: Renée Vazquez
Thinking of love? Valentine’s Day is on its way. “Anne” has some ruminations on the subject for you.
By Anne
It’s as if you’ve turned my heart into an ocean
at the same time you’ve lit it on fire.
It seems to slosh around with every motion;
I can feel its weight, its infinite depth.
There is no limit to its flow.
The fiery tongues dance inside me,
engulfing everything they see.
I feel the warmth of both comfort and anxiety.
Editor: Peter Kadel
By Makena Behnke
she lives in a kingdom she created by herself
no one had the courage to climb the walls she built
and when one did
she
shot
him
down.
–whether she wanted to or not.
Editor: Peter Kadel