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Esther Pollak Aug 22
hair ties tie hair
bus drivers drive buses
paintbrushes brush paint- paint through an empty canvas
filled by strokes of green orange and brown
with trees that hold canes and nests that hold wings
wings that carry letters- letters to the one your heart knows you've always loved
yet your mind seems to have forgotten
forgotten the color of their eyes
when you once knew where every freckle lies
lies - laying-always laying-laying in bed
dreaming with wide eyes
about the canvas that was once empty...
Esther Pollak Aug 22
hair ties tie hair
bus drivers drive buses
paintbrushes brush paint- paint through an empty canvas
filled by strokes of green orange and brown
with trees that hold canes and nests that hold wings
wings that carry letters- letters to the one your heart knows you've always loved
yet your mind seems to have forgotten
forgotten the color of their eyes
when you once knew where every freckle lies
lies - laying-always laying-laying in bed
dreaming with wide eyes
about the canvas that was once empty...
Esther Pollak May 27
The ***** scream as the sun eats the moon
Birds beg
In an unknown tune
It prevails as a threat
Esther Pollak May 27
The ***** scream as the sun eats the moon
Birds beg
In an unknown tune
It prevails as a threat
what one wants to hear?
Itching...tumbling
Telling or yelling
Which?
The sand
Harm-less/full
Which?
Decisions why
Frozen in motion
Organs seems it hard
Blank:
Blinked?
Decisions
Esther Pollak Mar 12
I wanna be able to tell people to stop searching for the perfect one because I have already found it
Esther Pollak Jul 10
All I really want is someone who admires me from afar as I pick a flower from the ground because it stood out in my eyes
Esther Pollak Jul 10
Who stays awake even when there are no thoughts to fill my head
When all i wanna do is rest

Who has never felt that feeling
That feeling that is so cliched
“You will feel it in your heart when you love someone”

Who’s only melatonin is writing a poem

Who sees a bird and can create an entire story in their head
Who always wonders “am I the only one who thinks like this” “is there something wrong with me”
Esther Pollak Apr 18
The cycle repeats

the roosters are prepared
they know it’s coming

it rises
it only grows.

but gives itself away
so the other can shine too

they seldom meet
but know each other so well
What does this scene remind you of?
Esther Pollak May 27
Looking down at the feet he knows so well
caged by beady eyes,
his colors hypnotize the crows.
Dry straw his guts, is he the scarecrow they fear?
The eagle’s wings they envy?
The serene owl they loathe?

It’s his courage that grips their black eyes
when we come out the womb the umbilical cord is cut
to PREPARE us for life?
I wouldn't call it that
unless life uses the word PREPARE as its disguise
it goes more like this:
when we come out the womb the umbilical cord is cut
to divide us from our mother
to PREPARE us for preparing

learning to walk and talk
to PREPARE us for preschool

learning the ABC's
you already guessed; to PREPARE us for first grade

in first grade is when you're told you're getting big now
if big means preparing for 2nd 3rd then 4th grade then they were right about something

5th grade arrives once again:
"This activity will help PREPARE you for middle school"

It's the whole overrated pattern of life
I mean PREPARE

middle school some are aware of the concept
PREPARE
but go along with it
"Don't forget to do your summer homework...you don't wanna give off a bad first impression"

High School, it only continues
but it's all different now
PREPARE
it's college now
it's what preparing/life(Can't chose one cause I don't know the difference) is for

college is where you find your passion
oh sorry I meant PREPARE some more
if you've reached the final step what more can you PREPARE for?

It's not steps
as long as your you're living your preparing- for they are the same word after all

Now it's time to go off into "the real world"
then which world was I in before?
it often seems as if life is just a long period of time of preparing for preparing. I wrote this piece to express my opinion about the concept of basic life.
Imagination and/or a story
Esther Pollak Apr 30
Some people write about  regrets
Some write about  mistakes
Some about  heartbreaks
Some sorrow

Others people write about discoveries
Others write about nature
Others about  striving
Others surviving

No people write about  the racket of silence
No one writes about  knowing their feet by heart
No one about  the night of black snow
No one the tip of the iceberg
In the Roman Empire
it was
I know that guy Jesus
hey so do I
now it's funny to watch peoples faces
"I'm an atheist"
"So you don't believe in any god?"
"If God lives then where's that unicorn I saw roaming in the bushes earlier?"
Any person asked will say they can sit in their room for hours with plugs in
Listening to a tune of someone else’s creation
Then why is it so hard to read a poem?
Both someone else’s words
While songs are valued for their tune
Poems for their words  
A poem holds a story which a modern song can’t express
Esther Pollak Jul 22
If life isn’t a race why is everyone running?
Esther Pollak Jul 12
Snip by snip I cut off each piece that was once apart of me

They fall to the ground
Roaring but unable to move

That’s the story of how I cut off all that was once left of me
Esther Pollak Apr 30
Top the reached you’ve mean doesn’t mountain the of top the reaching
Found be to mean doesn’t discovered be to
Affecting mean doesn’t saying
Mark a leaving mean doesn’t affecting
Feet stretched across the bed
Relaxed
NO EXIT
a minute ago there was still no exit
a minute ago it was going out
now it's escape
How did I get in?
the starry nights let me remember
the shooting stars make me think
the bright moons do not let me forget
the flying fireflies want me to ignore
I cannot help but remember

I wish to have dreams
but wake up to nightmares
the darkness sends a shiver up my neck
the eerieness is like a demon lurking, waiting to invade
the quiet curtains of night scare me
the chirping crickets remind me

the sun has started to rise
but the light does not affect my eyes
because I have seen too much
I will not forget
This poem reflects a post serving soldier who is still affected by her/his past experiences.
Esther Pollak Jul 10
A caged bird doesn’t sing
Esther Pollak May 27
an old couple lived in a small house one day they planted a seed
soon later they both passed away
the house forgotten, never became a home again
but the seed continued to grow
it grew to be the tallest flower in the yard

one day a stranger strolling by saw the bright sunflower
he brought it home and put it in a vase
placed it next to his bed
so that every morning when he wakes he can see it’s beautiful face
Esther Pollak Jul 10
Some people need to
Live other’s lives before they can be greatful for their own
Esther Pollak Jul 12
Searching for something to write
Pen in hand
I rewrite other’s words
To pass by time
Some write their story and others sing theirs

but me

I have not a story to fill these pages

— The End —