Poem: by Angela

Guest

I Get A Little Scared

There is a creak in the hallway
Someone is walking
Up
Up
Up
The stairs
Evil giggling
They’re going to get me!

There is a clown in my closet
A lunatic hiding underneath my bed
An evil doll on my shelf
And the inevitability of aliens outside my window

They’re all after me
They know I know that they are there
Paranoia is good
It helps tip you off on these sort of things

Creak, creak
Closer, closer

Heaven help me,
There is a nose poking into my room!
I shriek
In response
There is a frightened whine

Lucille
My dog
Reluctantly I get out of the bed
Hoping not to arouse the psycho underneath
Or upset the clown
Or tempt the wicked doll
Or give invitation to the oh-so-nasty aliens

I open the door
And see my shivering Yorkie terrier
Scooping her up
I take her back to my bed

There is one benefit
To being a cowardly teenage boy
I always have a cute girl in my bed.

Guest

Hey, Guys! Not too long ago this poem was published in my school's Literary Magazine! <3

Cracked

When I was young
I decided one day that it was time
To lock myself up in a tower
Surrounded by a dragon and molten lava.

When I was afraid
I built up a wall around myself
And made sure that no one would be able to get to the other side.
It was a very long time before I noticed that there was a
Crack in the wall,
A crack in my armor.

When I was alone
I watched with amazement
As two hands reached the top of the wall
And found that the hands were attached to a body,
Another human being.

When I was growing
I found that I was being taken to new worlds
The rocky rings of Saturn,
The gossamer Heavens above,
The hidden caverns of the Sea.

When I was free
I realized that my wall had been scaled
And that I was able to see all of the world around me.

When I was smiling
I knew it was because of you.

Guest

This year I am taking a creative writing class and was given the assignment of writing a poem about yourself. The end result in my mind is pretentious and silly but my teacher seemed to have liked it quite a lot and he reccomended I submit it to the school's literary magazine. Try not to laugh.

Mirror

I stand before a dirty mirror
Foggy from the steam of a bath.
Stubby fingers reach out and
Run over the filthy gloss
Like a precious hand to hold on to.

A smiley face in the mirror
Drawn without thought,
Destroyed by the swipe of a hand.
A pink face stares back
With damp hair and unfocused eyes.

A stranger in my skin.

The taste of salt on my tongue
And the rejuvenation of tears
Downpour.
A contortion of the face,
Such vulnerability and willingness
To break down.

Someone stands beside me,
When I look back they are gone.
The pretense of a kiss on my forehead
And the slight feel of a hand upon my shoulder,
Gone before they can be fully registered.

Heavy breathing and a final sigh
Before grabbing the towel
And putting on my glasses.
The world is good again
And there are no worries.

Guest

This is a poem I'm considering submitting for the literary magazine. Only problem is it feels like it should be longer and I don't have a title for it just yet. I would love some input on it. Thanks :]

I want to wake up one day and
Have pink curlers in my hair and bad breath.
I want to look over at you and yell at you
For looking at me when I looked so bad
With such a stupid grin on your face.

I want to make you dinner one evening
And watch as you skirt around the fact
That it’s fish and you hate it.
I’d like to watch you eat with such pain
Like you’re eating the fine china,
And yet still have the courtesy to
Smile and say it tastes
Good.

I want you to set my slippers on fire
After putting them in the microwave for too long
Because I complained that my feet were cold.
I want to call you an idiot and watch
As you get the foam from the fire extinguisher all
Over that new sweater I got you for your
Birthday.

I want to wake up one day and
Trip over your shoes on the stairs and
Crack my neck and watch as our memories
Come pouring out of my body in red dribbles.
I want all of it so long as I’m sharing it with
You.

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