Julie Boyd

FLASH. BANG. WEE-WOO WEE-WOO. THe big city sounds. The big. The busy. The crowded and confused. Or, silence. Peace. Calm. The Vermont lifestyle. As a child, I was not given a choice, it was made for me. My life began in Vermont. As a young child, I grew up playing in the street, or on Mt Tom, or in the park. Everything was calm, although i didn't know the difference, because I'd not yet seen anything else. I don't remember a specific first time in a city, but I've been many times throughout my life and the thing about going was that I always wanted to come back. Come home, to my Vermont. Burlington certainly is a city, but not as much as Boston.

I ran through the woods because I couldn’t wait to get to the top
The top from where I can see my house
Where we sit and rest, have a picnic
The place of beauty without cell phones or electronic noises
Birds sing to each other from far off
They fly through the woods, through the trees
Enjoying every minute of their freedom
If only we weren’t trapped to the ground, but could soar high
Then on that day I would not have ran,
But I would have taken to the air and glided through the sky
I’m not a bird, I cannot fly, so for now I will run through the woods

Palms sweaty; hands shaking; target in sight
That boy, your boy, is over talking to friends
You ask for a private word then walk away
Hand in hand you go to the secret spot
Together you sit against the wall and no one speaks
Finally you break the tension in the air
I think we should take a break from this
Hopefully he’ll take that well you think
Sounds good, I was thinking the same
His response shocks you so much you turn
To look into his eyes; they show so much
Looking back into your eyes you move forward
Your lips touch before you know what’s going on
So much for the break, but then again,
Was it really what you wanted anyway?

A cliché if ever there was one
You look like a fool; but then again
So does everyone else around
Neon bright shades perched on your head
He comes for a quick chat
Why don’t you go get burritos?
The boy asks casually
Such a random thing to say
But he soon moves on
Wait a minute, hold the presses
That boy wasn’t just a boy
He was the boy you wanted to see
An incredible influence
The bassist in his band
And you just talked about burritos

The Night

By Julie Boyd
Woodstock Union High School, Grade 10

Cameras flashing, you feel like a celebrity
Tonight it’s all about you
One last picture, says your mother
You smile and brush a piece of hair out of your face
The boy on your arm sneaks in a kiss
Memories you’ll never forget
A night of simple pleasure
Fabulous, glamorous, prom

We hop in the car
And go for a ride
Down to the lake
Family fishing trip

Get out the poles
The hooks and bate
Out on the water
Ready for the day

My pole ready
I snap it back
Then forward
It doesn’t budge

Turning around
And what do I see?
The pole is now stuck
In the large oak

I shouldn’t go fishing
Now I know why
All I really caught
Was the tree behind

Feeling Good

By Julie Boyd
Woodstock Union High School, Grade 10

I have a good feeling about today
Everything is going to be great
There’s something sweet in the air
A song in my heart moving me on
Toward the good day I feel coming

The Wait

By Julie Boyd
Woodstock Union High School, Grade 10

Sitting
Waiting
Will this end?

Still sitting
Still waiting
Oh this is ridiculous

I've been sitting
I've been waiting
This red light is too long

Let’s go to the farm
Friends and family gather
Games to be played
Food to be eaten
A corn field maze
Celebrating the harvest
And the beginning of school
Tradition of the farm

Squish goes the mud
Mush goes the muck
Plop goes my boot
Into the gunk

Sweet Revenge Never Tasted so Sour

By Julie Boyd
Woodstock Union High School, Grade 10

I see the blood drip off my knuckles
The knuckles of a kid sick of being
Sick of being taken advantage of
And pushed around by the big guys
But not today, today is my day
My day to push them around
To make them feel sick to their stomach
Make them hurt like they hurt me

They'll Be Home Soon

By Julie Boyd
Woodstock Union High School, Grade 10

Three hundred forty-two days
Eleven hours
Forty-two minutes
And then what?
The man who got us into this mess
Brought us over to Iraq
He’ll be gone
Someone new in his place
But what of the mess
What about the lives lost
Lives fighting
For freedom?
Or for his mistake
Why should we fight his battle

I will never do that again
Ever
That was the last time
I tried
I failed
But that isn’t why I quit
I can deal with failure
I could try again
Fail again
And work harder
That’s not the problem
I can take the response
People being mad
Disappointed
That I can take
I don’t mind
That I can’t do it
What I do mind
Is why I did it before
That I can’t take

I stand tonight
Shovel in hand
The night begins
And I start to dig
Deeper and deeper
The hole goes down
The night continues
I’m in too deep now
The hole starts to cave
It’s caving in on me
And as it falls down
I keep digging
Further into the ground
Now it’s so deep
I can’t see the top
I can’t remember
How I ended up here
Digging my own grave
But the lie has twisted

She enters the room and scans it; seeing the girl she wanted to see, she moves quickly to the open chair next to her. “Hello Macy,” she says to the girl as they nod at each other and discreetly she inches her chair into the perfect position to look onto Macy’s paper. Macy, noticing her changes in position moves ever so slightly to aid in the girl’s view.

She leaves the room, startled by you standing at the door; she didn’t want you to be there although you don’t know why. The look in her eyes tells you not to go into the room, never go in there, so you don’t. As you peer into the room which you must not enter, she begins to pull you away before you can see anything within the room that she wouldn’t want you to see.

We pretend everything is okay so that we don’t have to explain. And he didn’t have to explain, unless he wanted to, and he didn’t. She knew that something was wrong, but it didn’t matter what it was, she wanted him to be okay and she hoped that somehow he would be. They sat together with her family knowing that everything wasn’t okay, but not speaking a word of it.

They met in less than ideal conditions; she felt invisible and was about to leave because no one would listen to her cries; he listened. They became friends messaging, texting, calling talking endlessly like seventh grade girls. She quickly fell in love, falling hard for the one person who had seen her when no one else would.

Sitting in class a girl grows hungry; she hasn’t eaten in three days. She asks to be excused, the hurries out of the room. She runs down the hall to the cafeteria and buys cookies, a donut and a large soda. She then casually walks out to the hall, and once out of sight of the cafeteria lady, she sprints to a vacant place below a staircase, unable to be seen by anyone wandering the halls.

Pacing, back and forth counting my steps each time. One, two, three, four, turn, one, two, three, four, turn. Left, right, turn, left, right, turn. I stop and look up at the clock, pause and watch as the second hand slowly ticks as I wait to step into my doom. I look away from the clock and continue pacing one foot in front of the other.

Pacing, back and forth counting my steps each time. One, two, three, four, turn, one, two, three, four, turn. Left, right, turn, left, right, turn. I stop and look up at the clock, pause and watch as the second hand slowly ticks as I wait to step into my doom. I look away from the clock and continue pacing one foot in front of the other.

Pacing, back and forth counting my steps each time. One, two, three, four, turn, one, two, three, four, turn. Left, right, turn, left, right, turn. I stop and look up at the clock, pause and watch as the second hand slowly ticks as I wait to step into my doom. I look away from the clock and continue pacing one foot in front of the other.

Sitting in the dark I can hear yelling coming from outside. I sink further back into the depths of the closet, wanting to listen to the words being said, but unable to hear through the noise level of the conversation. This is a normal for me, absorbing the arguments of my parents, without them knowing that I can hear.

I don’t like to think
Because thinking
Leads to thoughts
And I don’t like
The thoughts I think
My memories and ideas
Wind into one
Until I can’t remember
What I’ve actually experienced
And what I dreamed
Sometimes, I wish
That what really happened
Was just a dream
And that my imaginary
False experiences
Were the true happenings
Of my everyday life
Hours on end inside

One is lonely, two is a couple, three is a crowd
I’d never believed this before now
As we, three, talk and discuss, three
Becomes too many, one too many
And the extra is me, number three
One, two, three, two, one too many
One leaves and three becomes two
Two too awkward without three
One leaves and two becomes one
One too alone without the others

It’s late and I can’t sleep
I want to call him, I do
He’s awake too, screaming
Hurry sleep come
He comforts me, I sleep
He’s alone awake scared
I want to be there, I’m not
Awake again I can’t sleep
For comfort I call again
He answers
I try again to sleep, I can’t
He lies there awake helpless
A nightmare again he wakes
He cries
He feels alone
I wake surrounded but

One and two the same but not
He and you interchange
Believe to be one but
It can't work
He is who you want to be
Long to be
But can't pull off
You pretend to be one in the same
A whole person with two first names
But he cares
He's there
He accepts and gives
You turn your back
Ignore what you know is true
You created him
He's a part of you
He's fake
You know
The worst bit is

As I lie here, in the whitest snow, my thoughts of the day’s happenings melt away as will the snow I find myself in. I love this feeling, the cold seeping through my jeans and chilling me right to the very bone. My bare hands now blue with cold as they sit shoved into the cold wet snow. Looking up at the sky, a cloud has come, large flakes of snow flutter lightly down onto my face and body.

Long hours spent preparing for the big day
Repeating the lines again and again
And again, until I finally get it right
Wrong, do it again, better this time
Practicing endlessly on the one line
Wrong, do it again, better this time
Hours and hours practice makes perfect
Wrong, do it again, better this time
Wrong, wrong, wrong, times up
Opening night and I still don't have it

This is the jungle and I'm hunting for the most deadly prey
I've spotted one in a clearing nearby, I assume a waiting position
I'm all ready to strike when I hear a distant shout
The jungle fades into my backyard and I see my mother
I turn back to see my prey has been startled away
A day in the imaginary jungle of my backyard
Unfortunately I wasn't able to catch the beautiful butterfly