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LiteratureField Trip
Stella had never been on a field trip before. Nothing fun like that ever happened at P.S. 103. Most days Stella’s school tablet sat untouched on her desk as she stared out the window, watching the usual red dust tumble over the horizon. But as she walked into class, she noticed a strange lady standing where Ms. Juno was supposed to be. This lady had a tight smile and looked funny. Not ugly or anything. Just too fancy for a Martian school in the boonies. More like a Starship Lady. Somewhere, out there, the Starship Colonies are living it up , her mother would say during dinner. Once they find a patch of heaven, they’ll settle down...
LiteratureTake My Pain Away
Long ago, on a quiet hill on the edge of a sloping village, lived a young healer who lived alone in her small cottage. She had dedicated herself to the village, crafting them cures to all of their ills with the extraordinary powers she had acquired in her youth. With a single wave, a cold would be vanquished, a cough would be silenced, and a broken bone would be mended. She carried out her work merrily each day, happy to help those in need. Although she lived alone and scarcely received any company outside of her patients, the healer was content, knowing that she had helped so many.One summer day however, she heard a frail rapping on her ...
- Literature
House Of Mirrors
A cutting gaze, the self-portrait's stare Practices mimicry to fool the eyes; The parts where light plays with air A sputtering maze of lens and lies. The foolish guise Of glass, a lair.Some are sneaky and stricken with lines Of deformities, other strangers Surely surprised; they sway like serpentines On the run from hidden dangers. The doppelgangers Of see-through signs.All these eyes, the self portrait's trap, To see oneself in such ways, a mess Of oddities within the mind that snap When revealed; a game of chess Cruelly skewed, less Shards through the gap.Something in the faces, the idealized Di...LiteratureShipwrecked
Silent as a foreign, bronze god in its shape, Toward an endless sleep it cannot escape. There is whiteness in space, centuries of sand That must be collected by speck and by strand. Already belonging to a spotless sea, Figures still litter like an ancient algae. The mind drowns, wanders when the spirit is weak; The eyes too heavy to see the crude fuel leak. Is it noble to die a slave, a machine Meant just to clean...or a thing free from routine - Silent as a foreign, bronze god in its shape, Toward an endless sleep it cannot escape?There is whiteness in space, centuries of sand That must be collected by speck and by strand. They remind me ...LiteratureNight Shifts Too Soon
When I look at you deeply what do I see? The person you are or I want you to be? The labored-over argument of ardor, Should I lift her high or quietly guard her? Her flaws are not flaws to me, but cause for soft Attention; the tides that rise and fall, leave coiffed And polished stones aside, beauty formed by wear. Is wanting to change what you love ever fair? To better myself, that I'll never not try, But to ask of the mirror a new reply... When I look at you deeply what do I see? The person you are or I want you to be?The labored-over argument of ardor, Should I lift her high or quietly guard her? It's the echo that's scary when I've sai...
LiteratureWitness
What shiftless fools persistence Does fence, who live life listless And blind; excess existence Without willing to witness.
LiteratureLotus of Countless Petals
It was but yesterday we met in a dream, like that first moment which scattered the stars into space. Our winged selves, a pattern, a stream of confused sounds, strangers to sweet music in such a place. Lotus of countless petals, suffer not yet my eyes to hunger for your face.By giving more of yourself, you give me all, and your love, with hook and scourge, makes puppets of my words in the way it calls and sings. For a voice cannot carry the tongue nor the lips that gave it wings, alone must it seek the ether, a breath to break down walls and tall things.You restless in rest, trapped children whom regret birth, come to the fountain and drin...LiteraturePrayer
All men Are menaces, amen. Common prey to indemnity, Threateningly Severing the atom, Nay, the stratum Laid there before Them; a muddying floor In a long maze. Let us pray, all manners of praise Are menaces. Amen, All men.
