7

Grief is stark white.
Painful.
Mourners' sorrowful heads,
Bowing, hiding their feelings from watchful eyes.
Children feeling insecure; security blankets no longer
strong.
Threadbare sheets are now empty.
Closing, but what?
Hoping that there IS another place,
Happier,
Where old friends will reunite
which time is opposite of a wedding,
This is full of promises for the years to come,
Doors opening to possibilities.
Now, wishing for the service to close.

A little red flame against the white
a beacon of hope, and of life.
Holding his own against sharp winter knives
waiting for spring to shed her light.

The little red flame against the white
flickers and dies, but then flares up.
Refusing to burn out, refusing to die
wanting to live another night.

The little red flame all by himself
is all alone, but doesn't go out.
Finding the will to endure,
to live another spring once more.

But the little red flame supports another;
watching him, he snorts and shudders.
The little red flame's determination

I walk a path none dare tread,
of shadows and darkness and bloody footprints.
On this road that has been said
to belong to the devil, and now a kid.
None believed, but I proved them wrong.
A kid can be the most dangerous of them all,
because this kid made them hear a song.
Beautiful and haunting, sharp and sweet,
they slowly fell fast asleep.
Absorbed in to this tapestry
and in their eternal slumber, they weep.
As nightmares begin, they scream and wail,
as their greed takes form, as it comes alive,
along with hate, envy, and despise.
They drown in their own negative energy,

Wound: a figurative injury

If it wounds you to trust, then just stop trusting.
If it wounds you to believe, then just stop believing.
If it wounds you to love, then just stop loving.

Pain: cause emotional anguish or make miserable, some physical hurt or disorder

If it pains you to see, then just stop seeing.
If it pains you to hear, then just stop hearing.
If it pains you to cry, then just stop crying.

Upset: disturb the balance or stability of

If it upsets you to know, then just stop knowing.
If it upsets you to think, then just stop thinking.

The Shelburne FAYZ

Asa woke to the sound of his little brother, Damian, throwing a hissy fit in the kitchen… again. He slipped into an old pair of jeans and pulled on a plain black tee. His footsteps were muffled by the soft, green carpet that ran down the dark oak staircase. He swung his backpack over his shoulder, carefully avoiding Damian. The bus was already pulling away from the curb, so Asa wheeled his bike out of the garage and peddled towards school.

* * *

In the moonbeams of ashen silver,
And a sea of churning willow,
Stands her.
Her as in the pale, milky steams of earth,
The burning of ancient parchment,
The copper glitter of heaven itself.
Iridescent and perfect,
But rusted and fractured,
She waits,
In the form of virtue and vengance,
Wisdom and guidance,
Turth and fear
And-
She listens.
She speaks.
She tells of your fate,
Spinning tales of heart-thunderous pace,
Making you wonder;
What is she?
She is the moments flitting by,
The pain of death,
The ease of heart,
The love of life,
The courage of reality.

I've been dancing
To the beat of life
And the music inside,
Partying away all the nights
Jamming along to any song
Singing karaoke to wash away my miseries,
I'm falling in love with life again,
Dancing to the beat of life.

Enjoying my final days,
Falling in love with life again
Every moment,
Popping it to the max,
Laughing with tears flowing freely
And not remembering to remember,
I'm falling in love with life again,
Dancing to the beat of life.

Playing through the seconds
Letting go the ups and downs
Stresses skinned off me every hour,

Rain On The Windowpane

Listening to the rain
pattering on my windowpane.
I lie in bed
remembering that the cats are not fed.
I sigh
and wonder why
it has to rain
pattering on my window pane.
It’s keeping me from going out
and causing me to pout.
Stupid rain
pattering on my window pane.

I've been dancing
To the beat of life
And the music inside,
Partying away all the nights
Jamming along to any song
Singing karaoke to wash away my miseries
Dancing to the beat of life.

Enjoying my final days,
Falling in love with life again
Every moment,
Popping it to the max,
Laughing with tears flowing freely
And not remembering to remember,
Dancing to the beat of life.

Playing through the seconds
Letting go,
The ups and downs,
Stresses skinned off me every hour,
I'm falling in love with life again,
Dancing to the beat of life.

There once was a girl,
With goldeny curls.
A princess she was,
and pretty, just cause.

The wicked witch came,
To kidnap the dame.
The prince was so lame,
He burped up a flame.

The flame was so large,
It looked like a barge,
The witch climbed aboard,
Her weight snapped the cord.

This cord held the boat,
But it held it no more,
For the boat drifted off,
Far away from the shore.

Hooray cried them all
For the witch took a fall
But there still was the dragon
Tied up in a wagon.

He had green scaly skin
A face, tight and thin
Long arms,
a large belly.
short legs,

Sleek feathers gleaming,
Talons scraping the raw ground,
Air is crisp and fresh.

Rain is the sadness that starts in the fall.
Rain is the sorrow of god and of all.
Rain is the tears of those who cry.
Rain is what makes wet from dry.
Rain is like truth of all and of past.
Rain does not forever last.
Rain is never queens nor kings.
Rain is the life of all things.
Rain is not shadow nor dust.
Rain is an important trust.
Rain is a beautiful sight.
Rain is just waiting for light.
Rain is the beginning of beauty itself.
Rain has taught me to be myself.
Rain is my one true friend.
Rain is always the start not end.

This is a series of poems that reveal a story.

There’s a storm a comin’

I can feel it rushing through my veins like the blood from my limbs
Dripping through my heart like the reactants of my life
Blowing across my body like wind from my lungs

The rain is here

Pouring down from above
Blowing from here to there
Coming down faster and faster

The storm

Cries down from heaven
Blowing trees back and forth
Creating a disaster waiting to happen

The horror

Of what to become of this storm
A man will slip or a car will slide
A terrible accident will occur

Life was much simpler
When all we could do was dream
We would cry and we would scream
We couldn’t talk
And we couldn’t walk

The thoughts in your head
Were things they had said
Remembering them all
We cannot recall
A thought of food
Or how people are rude
How they’re not very nice
Let them roll the dice

We were so young then
Remembering what life could’ve been
We couldn’t speak
Dripping drool off our cheek
And all we could hear
Was the sound of them cheer
For what they think is so great
But really they hate

The things they don’t notice

The burning flame of outrage,
Lit upon so many torches,
The sharpened edge of hate,
Shining in all of their pitchforks,
Together they thrive,
And the riot marches on.

Blooded hands settled comfortably,
Into the worn grooves of their gun,
Stumbling through a battlefield,
Stained with broken ties and promises,
Seemingly the last on left,
In this field of dread,
The forgotten soldier staggers on.

And behind the curtains of our madness,
Kneel the mighty essence of Greed,
Jerking the strings of its puppets,
Observing how we react,
Laughing hysterically all the while.

It was the day before the big test. Math was hard and I was willing to do what ever to get out of it! Then the big news came out... " This project is worth half your final grade." That was it, I would have to skip school. I had not done anything to study and I would have to take the risk. If I didn't take the test my grade would stay the same. The next day came fast and I almost felt like I actually had a fever. I slept in and when my mother came to see if I was ready, I was not. I told her what had hurt and i was not able to go to school.

A Year to Remember

7th grade is over.
Mr. Bishop did a lunch box fashion show.
I read over 25 books
and got taught about ratios.

I ate a lot of skittles.
And quite a few lollipops.
Wrote a deal of poems
and read on the beanbag. FLOP!

We used the Van De Graaff .
And did YWP poetry.
Insulted each other Shakespearean style
And learned about bugs in river ecology.

7th grade is over.
It’s been a great year.
I’m really sad to leave
And I’ll shed a single tear.

The River

The River
flows smoothly across the land
winds around mountains
down the valleys
and ends in the ocean.
I stand on the bank
and slowly wade in
the cold water surrounds my body.
Consuming more of me as I go in deeper.
The water numbs my body as i go under
Cold water
rushing over me
consuming me
numbing me
carrying a part of me with it
down the flowing current
washed away
gone forever.
Cold water
consuming me
washing the bad away.

My name is Austin Hoyt. I live with my parents, two sisters, one brother, cat and fish in Waterbury Center, Vermont. I like to snowboard, play baseball, and ride four-wheelers and snowmobiles. I am 13 and have many friends. Although I don’t think I have a good personality, others say I have many good traits.

Bubble gum,
It’s gooey and gruesome,
All jumbled and mumbled,
As slimy as a bar of sopping soap,
Dripping with spit,
Pinkish and sticky-sweet,
A stretchy wad in my cheek,
“SNAP!”
It cackles as I pop it back into my mouth.

Their lives are difficult
Like a fork in the road
You either go right, or left

Sometimes you know which way you’re going,
You like which way you’re going
Sometimes you are stuck in the middle, can’t make a choice

Right or Left
Left or Right
Right or Left.
Which is safer,
Which is smarter,
Which is better,

But you know
Eventually, you have to choose

The right decision isn’t always easy

“‘We’re goin’ back and turn ourselves in.’”

Seven boys, friends forever
They are different, yet the same
A family outside family
A friendship tied strong

Lonely, yet together;
Forgotten, yet loved.
Someone they can turn to
Someone who won’t judge

Amidst loss, fear, pain and suffering
They’re always there for each other
Healing all the hurt

Comforting, caring, depending, giving
Laughing, joking, having fun.
Helping when in need

Trustworthy and dependable, yet judged
Looked down on, mocked, endless tourture
Yet still, they are strong
Strong as steel, hard as rock, tough as nails

W on’t stop asking, getting annoying
H elp! Feeling claustrophobic!
A ll of these people, asking at once
T hey won’t believe me but, I really don’t know

Hey
hey
we need to talk
ok?????
i want you to know th at i love you first
i love you too
we need to be just friends
why????
because i hve hurt you
no baby you haven't
yes, i havent givin you everything you need
i dont need everything
yes you do
no i dont
i'm sorry. we can be friends
please dont go
good bye baby
LATER THAT DAY
hi
hi
soooo
soooo
i dont want to be friends you cody
why not?????
because its to hard
what is????
hanging out you after all that we have done together, it hurts
ok... but jordan
yeah???
i love you.
good bye cody
good bye jordan.

Puddles everywhere, deep and wet
running through them with my friends
drops of dew in the morn
the sun here again once after the storm.

The Mystery Unraveled

It was just over 20 years after the heist, in April 2010, that an adventurous duo went looking for the missing paintings from the Gardner Museum, deep in Colombia. Their intent was clear and their evidence was solid.
\

Summer

There is something in the air
this time of year,
that makes everyone happier.
Is it the fact that we can finally see the sun
after many long months of it hiding?
Is it the smell of dew
sprinkled on the grass in the early morn?
Or is it that all the children know
that school is almost over
and we can be free of tests and homework
even if only for a couple months.
To me that is it.
Every year when I walk through those doors for the 185th,
whether I was in first grade
fifth grade
and even now,
I feel as though a huge weight
has been lifted off my shoulders.

A mirror of shilouettes,
Too dark for any eye to see,
No matter how you plea,
Always in your wake,
There is no way to shake,
You shadow.

A regular sign of humanity,
For every man to have,
Be he poor or rich,
Or quite a snitch,
His shadow's sure to tag.

A common misconception,
For any one to hold,
Your shadow dissapearing,
Into the nights cold hold.

But as we all have noticed,
At the beginning of a new day,
Our shadows are beside us again,
Once more and here to stay.

Being Short

We walk through the halls,
looking up to see everyones face.
We sit in the dressing room,
trying to find the right length.
We wonder if we'll ever grow again.
We struggle to reach the top shelf,
to make a basket.
But we learn to live with it,
but in our dreams we're tall.
Even if your best buds are six feet
and your only four or five.
Theres nothing wrong with being short.

~ Courtney Shephard
May 29,2010

So Silent
Makes me itch.
I can’t stand knowing all the things left unsaid.
The teacher speaks,
Quiet ends,
Gotta listen to what she’s got to say.
Something boring, maybe even dull.
But I have to listen,
And stay alive.
Homework is done.
Really was nothing at all.
Just to do writing.
Nothing hard.
Progress report is coming.
Can’t imagine doing bad.
Dad would be upset.
Can’t let that happen.
Talking goes up.
The guy next to me is happy with his grade.
I haven’t looked yet.
Too afraid.
Can’t do bad.
I’m just writing, in this little classroom
With everyone.