the bird on fire

The Bird is the Word: Sophisticated Schoolyard Shenanigans

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Fundamental Love

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We welcome Leo Milmet to the Blog Staff. Previously, Leo contributed as guest reviewer. More Leo reviews are to come. Today, he debuts with a poem. Leo says of the topic “Giving Back,” This is really something I believe in. The poem also serves as a submission to the Desert Youth Town Hall poetry contest honoring upcoming speaker Caroline Kennedy. The contest’s theme is “Giving Back,” named for Ms. Kennedy and her extended family who exemplify a dedication to public service and its impact on individual citizens.

 

By Leo Milmet

 

Why give back? Not because you should but for

Love of your fellow humans. Helping those

in need makes me feel good. I love all people.

All should be helped. Why? Imagine you were

a person in grave terrible need, then helped by one with a golden heart,

who clothed you, fed you, generously gave you enough to survive just one more day.

You would be happy. You would be grateful for their generosity.

Why? Maybe because they saved you from something,

or at least tried to. The golden-hearted person showed love for a fellow

Human being, a beautiful person inside,  like all of us are.

 

Empathy. Life. Humanity. Compassion. Love

for your contemporaries on this planet.

You don’t want them to leave forever, so help them.

 

Editor: Peter Kadel

Dear Future Me

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By Anonymous

 

Dear future me,

I hope that you’re okay.

I hope that you haven’t given up

and that you’re still alive.

I hope that you’ve started living,

rather than just surviving.

I hope that you keep your imagination,

but you change the things that it conjures.

I hope that when you look in the mirror

you see something beautiful.

 

Editor: Peter Kadel

4th-Person Poem

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By Brennan Nick

 

So I was in English class talking about the perspective a story can have: 1st person, 3rd-person limited omniscient, 3rd-person omniscient, and 3rd-person objective. We also learned that it’s possible to have a story take place in the 2nd person with pronouns such as “you” and “yours.” Then, I searched if there is such thing as 4th-person perspective, and I was not disappointed. According to Wikipedia, “The term fourth person is also sometimes used for the category of indefinite or generic referents, which work like one in English phrases such as ‘one should be prepared.’” So here’s my attempt at writing a quick poem in the fourth person.

 

When one takes a nap in the shade of the Banana Tree,

One must be sure the Parakeet bird won’t see.

For if he sees one asleep, he will come in from behind,

And the bird may steal from you and not at all mind.

One’s food and one’s drink he will take as inclined,

And return to his perch all sated and dined.

If one wishes to sleep beneath the Banana Tree,

One must be sure the Parakeet bird will not see.

 

Editor: Shelby Armor

Comfort

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By Makena Behnke

 

everyone goes through an awkward and clueless phase

that’s normal

you may not be the star quarterback or the lead role in a play

but eventually you will find your thing

it might be something artsy

something music related

something techy

or something completely different

your individuality is gained by understanding that the world around you

judges

no matter what

so do your thing

your gained individuality will help you find your thing

so if you’re grades aren’t that great

and if you have trouble speaking in public or reading

you’ll be fine

 

Editor: AJ Patencio

“ugly” things that are beautiful

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By Makena Behnke

  • acne
  • albinism
  • big lips
  • big noses
  • birthmarks
  • body hair that “shouldn’t be there”
  • bushy eyebrows
  • crooked teeth
  • curly hair
  • double chins
  • fat
  • flat chests
  • grey hair
  • hip dips
  • heterochromia
  • hooded eyelids
  • limb transplants
  • scars
  • short eyelashes
  • stretch marks
  • thin lips
  • vitiligo
  • wrinkles

–the “ideal body type” is trash

 

Editor: Peter Kadel

Pondering Stars

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By Anonymous

 

I gaze up at the brilliant mixture of the light of burning stars

 

With a suspicion that those stars of hefty yet faint stature might hush my awe

 

For this sight of shimmering stars might have been overshadowed.

 

By their fixed fate, they all could have diminished, but they could still be perceived;

 

Or maybe not, maybe that myriad of makings in our hazy view will yet stand to mesmerize our eyes.

 

Either way, we can merely persist to ponder over how we could pioneer into the ocean of void to touch these dazzling stars,

 

But, for the time being, all we can do is but wonder while we are bound to the round Earth.

 

Editor: AJ Patencio

friends

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By Makena Behnke

 

i was in class, like i normally am

laughing at a dumb joke or one of my classmate’s antics,

and i realized that my senior friends will be graduating this year,

and my smile faded.

i thought about my junior friends and realized they’ll be leaving soon–

my smile turned into a frown;

my sophomore friends, they will leave too–

i started to tear up;

my freshmen friends and i will part eventually,

and i cried.

 

Editor: Claire Jenkins

Threshold

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By Peter Kadel

The footsteps have always been there, the paths of others for me to follow.

Some days they all lead me towards one place, a clear and pure consensus.

But other days they are split, and I must guide myself as best I can through the confusion.

There are also days when I must stray from the path to discover what lies beyond.

And then there is today—today is a day unlike the other days when certainty guided me.

As I arrived at the top of what I believed was the tallest peak I would ever climb,

I was faced with a new set of daunting challenges towering far above me.

As I viewed these giants, I saw that there were no trails marking the safe paths.

I realized that I stood at a threshold between the known and unknown.

There were no footprints to follow, no trails to track, no one to tell me where to tread.

And so I took a step forward.

 

Editor: Claire Jenkins

Gregory

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By Guest Poet Blogger Chris Griffin

This poem was written when I was age 24 – in the midst of, and in order to encapsulate, a somewhat fiery yet thrilling relationship. Greg is no more, but the poem remains. It’s as if written in stone – and time.

 

Accidental (Mount Tamalpais, 1972)

 

while driving   my car

blinked out   gregory

wheel grabbed   spun out

even off  the paved main

thorough farely clung cried

for help was near to  

nothing ever fell so

far so

good

 

Editor: Shelby Armor