The Waiting

The Waiting

I guess I figured the dawn was nigh;
I thought this endless night was gone by;
I mistook my longing for hearing a reply,
but long is this night, and heavy the sigh.

I’m tired of this waiting – stuck on standby,
“I want out!” I scream through teary eye.
For each step forward takes all my try,
But long is the wait, and heavy the sigh.

I know someday I’ll be nimble and spry,
And on that day, I’ll feel like I’ve arrived,
And everyone’s doubts will surely belie,
But long is my wait, and heavy am I.

That Juneish freedom is my rallying cry.
Sweet images of glory fill my mind’s eye,
And my heart applauds in affirmative reply,
But long is this winter, and heavy my sighs.

Doomed to idle this road’s shoulder am I.
I hope, while pulled over, it will not dash by.
Impatience and expectation in oversupply,
But long is this route, and heavy the sigh.

“The clock is broken,” I try to imply –
Hands on the face we expect to fly.
I look upwards, and shaking fists, testify,
but long is the wait, and heavy the sigh.

We learn in sadness and in beauty, hereby:
Worthy the wait and useless the sigh.

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Well Rounded

Well Rounded

I don’t have time for student council elections
I’m not on the dance team
you’ll never find me practicing with the cheer squad
and I don’t do band

I can’t worry myself with a Model UN
I can’t spend three hours editing the newspaper
and I don’t have time for an art club

I take my classes each day, and I do my homework
I don’t even have time for extra credit, so
I must get it right the first time
then I go home and take care of my triplet sisters
triplet.
sisters.

Sara loves books
I read them to her
she likes to make up new stories based on the pictures
I write them down for her
we giggle as she changes the ending

Sage wants to dress up every day
she’s never content with just normal clothes
princess
cowgirl
chef
and once a lawyer –
just like mom was –
I have to help her coordinate because
she’s only four

Sadie is allergic
to everything
I’m always making sure she doesn’t
you know
die
she likes movies
loves cartoons
but most of all, she enjoys life

But you’re all going to tell me
because I didn’t wear a uniform
I don’t make minimum wage
I don’t put my pretentious pretend poetry in some literary magazine
or eat my lunch in the yearbook room

that I’m unfit
unprepared
that somehow I lack the life experiences
developed inside a school building
carefully observed by someone
to be accepted into four years of red plastic cups,
hacky sack on the quad, and a deeper examination of the question,
“hot lunch or my own?”

you’ll all look at my scores and grades and assessments,
rub your chins, and smile at my achievements,
and with one turn of the paper, glance at your
formula for acceptance with disapproval –
“Why wouldn’t she want to be more involved?”
you’ll all ask and applaud for asking
“Now, that’s a good question!” someone will say

And my file will be shut
just as my plans and goals will be
and you’ll label me somehow
not well-rounded

Why I Yell

Why I Yell

I yell because I’m angry!
Your turpitude aside,
You’ve made something inside feel broken,
you’ve skipped in line; you’re too outspoken.

I yell because I’m exhausted.
…because how many times do I have to say this?
You really are wearing me out.
And I know my last-resort shout will fade behind your ears,
but sometimes all you have left is something primal.

I yell because you hurt me.
…and there’s a lot of me to go around.
You’ve pushed and you’ve torn, and
when it feels like I’m in danger,
my angry voice is my shield.

I yell because you’re my reflection.
In some unexpected way, you’re behind the glass.
You’re all that lasts of what I remember passing
and because it was so long ago, my voice
needs to carry across great distances.

I yell because you’re tuning me out.
…because can you even hear me?
because there is so much noise in the world
and we must shove things in our ears to cancel it.

I yell because I am frightened.
There are nights I don’t sleep,
and you’ll never know –
…because do you know
how many dinners I’ve thought of you
instead of the person across from me?
There are days I take patience and stay
and every breath of my prayers is shrouded in your name.

I yell because I love you.
And maybe you don’t hear it enough.
And maybe it’s lame, but
you’re the reason I’ll never be the same –
you’ve sunk your teeth in
and I don’t feel the pain.

I give my life and all that I am
I stand right here and
I pause just there and
I pace.

And I stand, arms folded at the door.
I smile and remind; I call you by name
I see who you are, and I see who you want to be
I hear what you say, and I know what you think
I repeat what you’re looking for,

and I yell
big, booming lives,
big, stomping voice,

I yell because you’re still not listening,
I yell because have I made myself clear?
I yell because I’m actually here to,
and I yell because do you see anyone else here?

I return daily, insane they say,
I stand here
right here.

I yell because are you talking to me?
And my voice echoes in your ears
and I hope you never wonder
if I was talking to you.

Mrs. Blackmere’s Last Day

Mrs. Blackmere’s Last Day

My fifth period is literally a zoo –
Uncontrollable terrors running fro and then to,
And here I am sitting just trying to read.
People rush past me with immeasurable speed.

The teacher is yelling; I don’t think she knows
Where the energy comes and where it all goes.
Mrs. Blackmere clears her throat and begins
to teach the class English, but she never quite wins.

Paper airplanes zoom by and boys belch ABC;
My friends and I sit, wondering what we can say.
I think someone’s crying; I hear sobs from the back.
I bet it’s Old Blackmere starting to crack…

Her hair’s gone white from the stress of the boys’ fun;
she began a brunette, and she’s only thirty-one!
She used to stand firm with her hands on her hips;
Now she hides, trembling, tearing paper in strips.

The bell is ringing; it’s beginning to snow;
The period’s over, and I think we should go,
But it’s clear Billy still has one final trick –
I’d tell you what happened, but you might get sick.