The Phone Found in Rainy May

The Phone Found in Rainy May

By Calvin Ya-Lu

I knew a man who could breathe fire

And turn water into blood

He could strip metal into wire

And pull gold lumps from the mud

When I asked him how, he said with a hiss

“I learned it from the abyss”

He explained to me his strange way

The way he found in rainy may

A public phone

That stands alone

At the end of the street named “Worth”

A spot that is not of this earth

He needed to make a call

His car had crashed into a wall

But instead of a tone

He heard a haunting moan

The moan then changed to voices

They offered many choices

“I’ll tear out your eyes”

“We’ll teach you to dance”

The man was in a trance

He hung up the phone and was left concerned

But then just realized, that he had learned

The voices gave him powers

And nightmares lasting for hours

He wakes in cold sweat

And drinks to forget

You may seek it if you must

But put into me your trust

When I say “stay far away”

Or it will take you away

Let your sanity stay another day

Avoid the phone he found in rainy may

Headlights

There’s something about the way the headlights illuminate the road ahead that sends a shiver down your spine. They’re too bright. Too artificial. They only allow you to see a few feet ahead of yourself, like the darkness ahead is running away from the yellow beams chasing after it. It bends around the automobiles barreling down the road and pounds on the windows, begging to be let in, but still keeping secrets hidden in the feet in front of you. It doesn’t seem like real life, the edges of the road erased along with the forest surrounding it, erasing all the familiarity you had with the road. The asphalt bleeds into the overbearing blackness and joins it, morphing into a vacuum broken only by your obnoxious headlights. Those two bright rays disrupting the new, silent world created by the night. A world you’ve never been invited to be a part of. Maybe that’s why it scares you, because you’re the one out of place here. The world has gone to sleep, but you’re still wide awake. And your high beams are bringing light to where darkness deserved to be.

Fixing America By Aryan Deorah






When I was little,


I was told that this country was perfect,


I was taught that this is the greatest nation,


I had read everyone was free, everyone had the same rights,


But was this all true?





I went to school and they said my religion was stupid,


I got on the bus, and they called my friends terrorists,


I turned on the news, and there was another police killing,


I saw videos, they showed people spitting on children because of their origin,


I talked to my friends, and all they mentioned was a man who supports all of these things.





Is this country really as great as I was told,


It is up to our generation to fix these problems,


to heal the wounds,


to accept others,





and to cement this nation as the greatest that has ever existed.

Yusra's Creative Writing Blog

My Creative Writing

'via Blog this'

The Voices

The Voices


By: Hannah Bowman





The voices.


They taunt me,


With their continuous laughter.





The voices.


They tell me,


Things that aren’t true.





The voices.


They help me,


Suppress feelings with a smile.





The voices.


They lead me,


To have bad intentions.





The voices.


They protect me,


From shedding a tear.





The voices.


They soothe me,


Singing words of hope.





The voices.


They keep me,





From letting it all out.

Where Are You? - Shareen Shaik

Where Are You? 

We called you downstairs for Momma's Sunday dinner,

Mashed Potatoes and Fried Chicken,

Your favorite,

But, where are you?

The window was open and the curtains danced swiftly to the tempo of the wind,

Calling your name,

But, where are you?

Michael jumped on his bike and left

Momma is crying unbearably

Daddy's mind wanders off

Where are you?

We are supposed to be each other's strengths,

But we are instead weaknesses

What have you done to us?

Where are you?

The police are outside interrogating the neighbors,

The twins are peeking through the windows watching curiously

Our home doesn't feel like a home anymore

Where are you?

I'm suddenly the new spotlight in school,

Teachers reassured me 

Your friends walked me to my classes,

The prinicpal said I could stay home,

But that would only remind me of you.

Each of us held a candle,

Not budging even though the rain pelted us,

"God guide us through our hard times,

And bring back our Mia to us!"

"AMEN!"

Our kitchen is filled with stacks of food,

Pies, cakes, casseroles, and who could forget Mrs. Smith's turkey,

But we haven't ate a proper morsel since you had left,

Where are you?

It's been 5 days Mia!

Momma's throwing up nonstop,

Daddy isn't home anymore,

Michael doesn't stop drinking

And I...

I sit on the roof because of the fresh air

And knowing you are elsewhere beyond!

We were emotionally and physically shattered,

We stopped believing,

Our thoughts questioned us

But one unexpected phone call ended it all.

They found you

"Hold on Mia girl we are coming!" 

By: Kiya Hicks

A Summer Day 

The sun's beaming now,

the warms beams across my face,

a nice summer day.

Smile?

Smile?

Tick Tock, Tick Tock

Time is passing by,

Don’t know how to feel anymore.

Don’t know what to do.

Can’t take this much longer,

This pain this hurting can’t take it.

Done, tired, torn,

Soon she’ll explode.

Tired of putting on fake smiles.

They think she’s happy,

But don’t know that inside-she’s fighting a battle,

Doesn’t feel “good enough.”

Tries to handle things but can’t,

Tries to keep emotions in check.

She tries to hide all her scars, all her pain,

No one understands so,

She’ll just have to put on a façade and go on.

Arena's Poems - block 2

Summer

The hot summer day
The bees buzzing everywhere
Sipping lemonade



Winter

Christmas Eve is here
Sitting by the fireplace
Waiting for the snow



Fall

Watching leaves all day
Green, purple, orange, I see
The nice breeze comes through



Spring
Green leaves sprouting out
Fresh smell of the breezy wind

Nice days with nice air

My Dog Didn't Eat It

My Dog Didn't Eat It

I was given so much time

to finish up these rhymes,

but I waited till the night before,

and now I am screwed for sure.

But it's not really my defect

that I didn't finish this project.

My red and abandoned fish, Fred, died

when my brother threw him outside.

My clothes got wet,

so I got an idea set.

I caused a fire to go by

when I threw them in the microwave to dry.

My hair was a flowing, shiny river streaming

down my shoulders, before I began thunderingly screaming

when it instantly mutated into a massive frizz ball

in the stickiest, most humid morning of all!

In a rainy afternoon, I went out to the patio

to munch on some crispy, green pistachios.

On a spur of a moment, I was blinded when lightening struck!

I would be paralyzed in a coma, if I had not ducked.

Every time I started to work,

I felt my phone staring at me like a jerk.

You ought to believe me!

This project is bad luck…please agree.

I'm working on it at this minute.

Something will surely happen to it.

Wait a second! What is this?

A poem of my excuses to end my crisis!

Control

There is an essence in each object.

This essence,

consisting of different elements,

represents different factors of life.

Taking advantage of the essence can create beautiful things.

Farming can be done faster.

Landscaping is easier than imagined.

Natural resources are at our fingertips.

Taking advantage of this life force can put man in control of nature.

Or so he thinks….

Nature has a mind of its own.

There is a delicate balance of power between man and the environment.

And if man is taking too much control of the environment,

Nature will fight back in order to restore equilibrium.

Nature will bring about a vile wave of famine,

disaster,

plague,

and mutant creatures beyond anyone’s imagination.

Today, we are at the brink of thriving or dying.

We can bring back a world of hope,

Use the essence for the positive.

Or we can continue to move forward,

abuse the essence,

and let nature take over the human population.

The choice is yours.

Brisk Moments

From that moment on,

I learned to change,

Change myself.                   

The things I do,

The way I do them,

Why I do them,

I have learned from my mistakes.

Countless nights,

Countless mistakes.

But sometimes it’s not what I do,

Sometimes it’s the people,

The people aren’t who they seem.

They are nice one day and then different the next.

They always say “People change”

People don’t change,

They just take their masks off.

Jaibir, Cole, Alex, and Josh Rap single

Pathway to Success

Pathway to Success

By:  Sreya Palnati

I remember that day perfectly,

Tears running down my face.

Dead cold stares on me,

A shattered grey vase.

Impossible, you say,

This dream of mine I’m dreaming.

But I’ve got lots of hope,

I’ve done some persevering.

Some days being fun with happy rainbows,

Other days filled with sadness.

I didn’t what was going on,

Or how do deal with this madness.

One day you told me about a song,

How it might help.

But then you never let me hear it,

Letting me feel the feelings I felt.

Soon I find out about a poem,

That shows me the pathway,

A very important one indeed.

Now I see everything in color instead of only grey.

We’re grown up now,

We know a little more too.

You know I’m living the life

That you’ve always wanted to.

Backpack

Backpack

Backpack,

you hurt my shoulders,

and my back,

also my arms,

 what would I do without you.

Backpack,

you carry all my books,

binders, and lunchboxes,

sometimes even my shoes,

what would I do without you.

Backpack,

you make me late to school,

trying to cram things into you,

you tear and rip,

 what would I do without you.

Backpack,

you can make my life miserable,

but also gleeful,

what would I do,

without you.

Backpack,

you hurt my shoulders,

and my back,

also my arms,

 what would I do without you.

Keshav Bhakta 

Block-4

Hope in the Dark

Hope in the Dark

This nightmare that we live in,

What a terror it is.

Not knowing what's fake and what's real,

But knowing we will survive this.

Darkness is everywhere,

Surrounding us like a cloud covered sky.

Coming out of nowhere, 

With a blink of an eye.

The darkness is pulling us in,

With memories that are scattered.

Never good enough,

And all our hearts are torn and tattered.

But say what you will,

This life is supreme. 

Keep walking towards your goal,

And someday you'll wake up from this dream.

Tick Tock

Tick Tock

Tick tock, went the clock,

Twelve people alive,

One the source of it all,

But only eleven shall die.

Tick tock, went the clock,

One dying each hour,

When the clock strikes one,

The man with the black hair tied back shall die,

A man of providing.

Tick tock, went the clock,
One dying each hour,
When the clock strikes two,
The man with the white scarf shall die,
A man most feared.

Tick tock, went the clock,
One dying each hour,
When the clock strikes three,
The man with the rose shall die,
A man wanting to be loved.

Tick tock, went the clock,
One dying each hour,
When the clock strikes four,
The man with red eyes shall die,
A man who was once lost.

Tick tock, went the clock,
One dying each hour,
When the clock strikes five,
The man with the black cross shall die,
A man who was a commander.

Tick tock, went the clock,
One dying each hour,
When the clock strikes six,
The man with the wise mind shall die,
A man who was an elder.

Tick tock, went the clock,
One dying each hour,
When the clock strikes seven,
The man with the sorcery shall die,
A man who was the father of all.

Tick tock, went the clock,
One dying each hour,
When the clock strikes eight,
The man who wears glasses shall die,
A man who was a hero.

Tick tock, went the clock,
One dying each hour,
When the clock strikes nine,
The man with the polar bear shall die,
A man who wasn't noticed.

Tick tock, went the clock,
One dying each hour,
When the clock strikes ten,
The man who was generous shall die,
A man who was poor.

Tick tock, went the clock,
One dying each hour,
When the clock strikes eleven,
The man who was always angry shall die,
A man who was a brother.

Tick tock, went the clock,
All eleven are dead,
But when the clock stroke twelve,
The twelfth with the curl was weeping,
And wished the eleven didn't protect him,
A man who wanted to protect.

The Cycles of the Seasons

 The Cycles of the Seasons

Winter’s snow brings cold

Raging blizzards, storms of hailing ice

And yet beautiful.

Spring is a rebirth

From the barren and icy grounds

Of the long gone winter.

Summer introduces us

To the feelings of freedom

And joys of old friends.

Autumn is subtle

Changing slowly, unnoticed

Until winter storms forth.

My Sun, My Love

Her warmth brushes me

And she would die every night

Because she loves me

The Final Stand

Read the poem while playing the video.

We are the last hope. 

We are the chance that the world has. 

This item, this sword, this energy, this responsibility, 

that lies within my hands, 

Can either destroy this place that we call home, 

or bring it back from these ashes. 

As the skeletal warriors enter, 
With the king of the evilness watches from above,

I wield the sword high at my head. 

If I am expected to save the last hope of humanity, I shall fight. 

I shall not stop doing so until everyone of these vile beings has been destroyed. 

The battle goes on for days and nights. 

Weeks and years. 

Years and decades. 

The hunger intensifying, 

The fatigue excruciating, 

The cuts bleeding, 

as the army of one thousand , 

the army of one million, 

the army of one billion, 

fights the lone warrior. 

With the acidic rain pouring on my head 

With withered trees shriveled up along the ground,

with the toxic air within the sky, 

I see hope. 

I see hope of a better land. 

I see hope of a peaceful land. 

I see hope of success. 

So after each fall, 

each strike, 

each hit, 

I grip this sword tighter, 

I hold my head higher,

and continue to fight 

The fallen have seen me, 

and the gods have praised me. 

I will join the clan of the pure-bloods. 

The people of the elements, 

the only people to have lived to their fullest, 

and the only people to have mastered their mind. 

I will liberate this land. 

I will liberate this country. 

And I will liberate this earth.  

With each of these thoughts, 

The glow the sword increases, 

and the pain inside me fades. 

I feel forces within me. 

I feel spirits rising through. 

I feel the weight of my legs disappear, 

As the last of the skeletal warriors fall to the sword in my hand,

And the king flees in shock fearing what will happen next.

I fall to my hand and knees, 

crying, 

then weeping. 

The joy I had encountered was relief. 

And around me, the first trees and rivers started flowing. 

And the new world begins. 

And as the leader of the pure bloods reaches for my hand, 

I grab it, 

As we begin a new life, 

of new beginnings, 

and more hope.