the bird on fire

The Bird is the Word: Sophisticated Schoolyard Shenanigans

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5-word sentences

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By Brennan Nick

This sentence has five words.

This also has five words.

Five word sentences are fun.

They can be interesting, too.

Here is a short story.

There once was a boy.

This boy was drinking milk.

He was also eating lunch.

His day was going well.

But, tragedy struck right then.

He moved his hand carelessly.

This motion spilled his milk.

He then cried and cried.

His mother heard the crying.

She rushed to help him.

She thought it was serious.

Reality was far from that.

She simply cleaned the milk.

She got him more milk.

Thankfully, the crisis was averted.

Five-word sentences are fun.

They can be interesting, too.

However, they are very simple.

When strung together it’s tiresome.

When in abundance, they’re monotonous.

They lack the needed details.

They lack the needed variety.

Five word sentences are not fun.

 

Editors: Claire Jenkins & Peter Kadel

 

utopia

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By Makena Behnke

i live in a world where girls stand hand in hand

not judging each other by race or ethnicity

each supportive of the others’ dreams

we teach each other kindness and compassion ~and sometimes makeup tips~

we don’t tear each other down or shame

we don’t mind if you have lip fillers or crooked butt implants

we accept each other for who we are

we share clothes and funny stories

we don’t mind if you put on a little weight or lose some

as long as you’re healthy and happy, we’re happy

–unfortunately not everyone lives in this world, and what kills me is that there’s not much i can do about it right now.

Editor: Brennan Nick

Some Weird Haiku’s from Charles

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By Charles Schnell

 

It’s Funny

It is funny how

We can be so similar

And not realize it.

 

Freedom

Freedom is what we

Yearn, Search, and Fight for, but we

Can’t find it alone.

 

Not What You Wished For

This is not what you

Wished for, but it’s what you got;

Thus it’s meant for you.

 

Excitement

I sit atop the

Mountain, and the world is vast,

Holding all futures.

 

Conflict

Stop the fighting; Stop!

The world is pretty, and nature

Is calling for peace.

 

These Rules

These rules, these rules, These

Rules cannot break us; we will

Stand and live and win.

 

Life Goes On

Sometimes, the world stops.

We feel we don’t know a thing,

But, we keep going.

 

Temporary

Everything in this

World is not everlasting;

Your pain will end soon.

 

Yugen

An awareness of

The universe too deep for

Words; I love Yugen.

 

No Sense

These poems do not

Make any sense, but, who knew

I would like haikus?

 

Editor: Peter Kadel

Dear Music,

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By Renée Vazquez A.

 

Even when you’re falling apart,

you comfort me.

When you’re writhing in anger,

you calm me.

When angst gets in my way,

you support me.

You’re with me always.

When I feel alone,

tell me you are with me, always.

You take my breath away.

You make me smile so much I cry.

You make me cry so much I smile.

I will always need you.

Humanity will always need you.

Editor Charles Schnell

true or false

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By Makena Behnke

i am trapped

today i came to the realization that i am trapped

there are very few days that i feel like this

that statement is false

i feel very small once i think deeply about myself

that statement is true

i know who i am

that statement is both true and false

 

Editor: Peter Kadel

Foreigner  

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By Renée Vazquez A.

Most people find it ridiculous

that I dare call myself foreign.

My skin is pale,

I’ve lived here for years;

I have no accent, with a few exceptions,

But yet, I am foreign.

I have not the loyalty or the indebted view

that many immigrants do.

But yet, I am foreign.

I feel foreign.

I was raised foreign.

I manage a very different perspective

on various things.

I read foreign.

I speak foreign.

But not in the crowd,

no, not in front of those near me,

for I have enough sense not to stand out.

I miss my country’s culture,

it’s rich long history,

and the kindness of its people

and the food they eat.

I scowl in resentment,

when my native place is mocked.

Especially when those people are ignorant

or just plain wrong.

Don’t get me wrong; I see its faults.

I know that it is flawed.

But not in those ways that are said by some.

But, in many ways, I’m foreign there too,

in the ways that I’m foreign here as well.

For sometimes I feel I am a foreigner of the world.

 

Editor: A.J. Patencio

Listen

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By Peter Kadel

 

The trees sigh

The mountains howl

The rivers roar

The plains rumble as thousands of hooves stamp and pound across them

The desert deafens you with utter silence

And the sky accepts this noise and waits for it to disappear

Listen

The songbirds twitter and titter

Their wings beat as they whistle and tweet

The hawk lets out a piercing cry with the same lovely twang as an old guitar

The placid lake prefers silence wishing to listen to the lyrical beauty the frogs have to offer

And the fish are the glorious percussion as they leap through the glassy surface and then slap back down like a lazy drummer

Listen

The bow of a ship scrapes and scratches against gravely beaches

Metal tools clatter and clang as foolish explorers build monuments to materialism

Black powder ignites and lethal projectiles fly forward snuffing out our most precious treasure–life

The aggressors’ voices drown out the screams of Mother Nature and her children

Listen

Her anguished cries subside to gentle sobs as coal iron and timber are extracted and used to fuel the machine

Cities like arteries are linked by roads like veins bringing the stolen life to those undeserving of it

Gears and engines turn and grind a roar and devour the freshness of the world

We feed on the flesh and blood of earth and we smile as her blood drips from our faces.

Listen

Look someone cares

They speak out and carry signs wishing for change

They are defenders guardians warriors citizens of the natural world

They care and they aren’t afraid to tell the world

They hold marches

They practice conservation in everyday life

A generation has found their voice

Listen

But no one does

The bastards still drown us out with screeching machinery

Our peaceful resistance grinds to a halt as they grind the forest into dust and strip the world bare

They tell us we are wrong

They have the audacity to call us conspiracy theorists

I can’t bear to listen

So I won’t

It’s my turn to make some noise

It’s their turn to listen

And they don’t have a choice

My voice is my weapon and my wit is sharp

My battle cry will shake what little trees are left

I will roar like a hurricane

I will bellow like the machines you cherish

And I will drown them out and destroy them as they destroy the world

I will do it happily

You’d better listen

 

Editor: Makena Behnke

Ghosts

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By Brennan Nick

Ghosts are a blurred idea, the dwelling of unfinished business.

 

When moving from your old home you may have had bitter feelings left,

 

The ones from unfinished business that murmur back to be resolved.

 

But less than a day later, a new family may come, a fresh coat of paint that faded away your impact.

 

All that you felt, had, loved, is no longer there, “tasteless,” you’d say, now  just in your thoughts.

 

Maybe that’s why we believe that those icy ghosts exist,

 

That our lives had such an impact that they can still hush where we have been but no longer.

 

Editor: Peter Kadel

Kindness

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Every human being is

Equal.

Each human being is an

Individual.

No one has a right to

Look down on someone

And laugh at them,

Or scold them.

We are all unique,

But we’re all

Human.

No one should look

Down on another just because

They’re “foolish” and different

When compared to the bully’s

“Brilliant” mind.

If only everyone would be respectful and kind,

We’d have a happy, peaceful world,

Full of joy,

Where evil, misfortune, and depression

Are extinct.

Sadly, that’s not the current truth.

 

But,

Will you change the world?

Editor: Shelby Armor

Heroes

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By Makena Behnke

those whose hair covers their eyes

those who decorate their bodies with ink from a needle or rings pierced into their skin

those whose hair is the color of the rainbow

those who are the rainbow

they don’t judge you as you anticipate, but you judge them as they mind their business

you judge them by their music or their favorite color

not as who they are but by the color of their fingernails

or what gender wears the makeup, or how much they apply and where it is applied

but little do you know the music you call “crap” and “stupid” is the music that helped them

those “idiots” that scream into the microphone are their heroes

and the way you judge is the reason why we need these heroes

Editor: Claire Jenkins