SLAP! The graceful whale whacks her tale on the pristine water.
SLUMP! The pod of dolphins flow down in the water.
SLOOP-GLOOP! Breath bubbles soar up to the top of the water.
SHHH! Fishers cast their lines into the deep, clear, water.
SMIP-SMIP! The bats of the seahorses’ tails fling through the blue, blue water.
SLIP! The green, blue water flows through rocks and moss.

Green gems change color in
Dim, still light of the volcanoes
Rain cools sizzling Spring Earth

I don’t even know where all of this insane energy came from.
I’m sitting here going completely ballistic.
Off
The
WALL!
People ask me if I’m ok…
I look like I’m having a seizure.
I’m fine.
More than, actually.
I can hardly focus on anything.
The sensation keeps ripping through all of my fibers.
I’m being confined to my seat, and I’m going MAD!
I want to just run away with all my energy.
Stand up on the table singing “I’m the Tops!”
Scream all around the Grand Canyon to hear myself.
All I CAN do is sit in my chair.
Bopping my head,
Tapping my fingers,
Jittering my legs,
Slapping my feet…
I don’t know what to do…
All of this energy came rushing through my body.
Who knows where it all came from.
Help me.
Before
I
crash…

I’m not Jewish.
I just want to talk about Hanukkah.
Since we have Christmas break, what about Hanukkah break?
It’s a holiday, too…
What an interesting holiday, Hanukkah.
The story of the Maccabees and the candles.
But why doesn’t everybody know about the story?
Everyone knows the Christmas story.
Well…
What’s the excuse?
We don’t hear about decorating menorahs,
Or singing Hanukkah songs.
There aren’t any shopping sales to buy Hanukkah presents.
Why?
It’s just as important a Christmas.
What are the reasons?
I feel bad for the Jewish.
They sit and listen to Christians talk about Christmas all year.
Do they celebrate both holidays now?
Well, what can I do?
The Jewish seem to be fine with all of this…

The coo-coo clock sings an opera at midnight.
Floor boards creak like an old man’s knees.
Shutters slap wildly outside the windows like a hand hitting water.
Dust collects as if it were a pack rat’s collection.
Cobwebs fly like cardinals.
Curtains flutter like a butterfly’s wings.
Doors swoosh like a bed skirt in the wind.

As wavy as the deep blue waves.
As wavy as hair that just got a perm.
As wavy as busy old Lombard Street.
As wavy as the warped board in the garage.
As wavy as the petals on a tulip.
As wavy as the cream in your cocoa.
Are the clouds painting the sky.

When people twist my words
The flip flop, flip flop of flip flops
When people SIIINNNGGG with the radio
Small children wiping their nose wherever they can
Getting left out
Having to wait for Christmas
Ha ha ha’s of unfunny things
***** elbows
Getting mad over nothing
Now knowing what people are talking about
People trying to control my life
Ventriloquists
Having to work in a group
My peers mocking and making fun of me
When I get beat like an egg
Going through a dry spell with my writing
People not doing what I asked them to do
Spinach, Brussel Sprouts, and the gas they give me
Being treated un=ly

How much I loathe you,
You have no idea.
Your eggs are little, brown specks that merely sit on the leaf.
When you hatch, you destroy all the squash plants in your path.
Mercilessly.
Nobody ever pays any attention to you.
Very few even know you exist.
Unfortunately, I DO know you exist.
Every once in a while, my mind floats towards you…
Those agonizing hours out in the squash patches.
The horrendous sunburn that followed.
The tan lines that stayed for weeks afterwards.
And the smell.
I will never think of Apple flavored Jolly Ranchers in the same way…

She is so lonely.
Ever since he died she has.
Toby and Maisie,
They were inseparable.
Now, she is just so lonely.
Why did you have to leave us, Toby?

I never learned your last name.
That doesn’t keep me from thinking about you and remembering all of what you said to me.
You asked me for help with your Lion’s jacket and pinning it together.
When you got bored during rehearsal, you would pester me.
Kicking the back of my chair.
Fanning the back of my neck and my hair with your script.
You acted as the brother I never had, but always wanted.
I enjoyed playing charades and telephone with you.
Playing 20 second fairy tale, and killing you off as Tinkerbell.
We acknowledged each other’s presence each day.
We made quirky and witty remarks and slams that we all laughed at.
I walked in on you while you had your shirt off, and of course you made a big deal about it as if you were completely naked and exposed.
You told me that you weren’t nervous, but it came through your voice on stage.
I ran your lines with others, and you would **** in and try to deliver them yourself, even if you didn’t know them.
I always called you out for moving in Red Light, Green Light.
You never won any games, but tried very hard.
We talked about our siblings, road ****, Disney movies, and Navy Seals.
You even like MAS*H, which just happens to be my absolute favorite.
Backstage, we had shoot-outs.
I ALWAYS shot before you even proclaimed “draw,” and watched you fall to the ground.
There was hardly a moment together we didn’t enjoy.
The ***** talk and the calm, sensible, personal talk.
Everything was exciting to me and made my heart and my mind giddy.
I think that you liked me.
How, I can’t distinguished.
You were definitely a friend, but more than that, I don’t know.
You told me your last name once, but I can’t recall it.
That doesn’t keep me from thinking about you and remembering all of what you said to me.

Friendship.
Something that should be valued highly.
Jessica.
Sometimes we take our oldest and closest friends for granted.
Sydney.
We forget just how much we love them.
Rachel.
When we meet new friends,
Holly.
We become scared.
Sierrah.
We...
Dylan.
I...
Kaitlin.
Do ridiculous things to impress them.
Emily.
Sometimes, my mind just slips away.
Hannah.
Why can't I always be my true self?
Hollie.
I suppose that's a hard thing to do...
Brooke.
I'm very fortunate for you.
Beth Ann.
I drag on you at times.
Megan.
But my life would be so different without you...
Olivia.
I don't know how,
Molly.
But it would be.
Tiana.
Thank you.
Abbey.
You keep me in line.
Kateri.
My life is like a puzzle.
Madeline.
(Well, I think ALL of our lives are like puzzles.)
Taylor.
I have many pieces and sections to me.
Shaely.
When one piece is lost,
Sam.
Then the puzzle is not finished.
Drew.
You actually do complete me.
Zac.
This poem is long.
Kevin.
But  bear with me, please.
Will.
I can't come up with the perfect words to describe our relationship.
Liz.
This poem may seem redundant,
Suzy.
And that's because it is.
Brittany.
I am a lost person in the wild.
Sister.
And you, my friends,
Mom.
Are the trees,
Dad.
The wind,
Grandma Bruns.
The grass,
Grandma Johnston.
And the things that guide me along the shattered glass road.
Grandpa Bruns.
The things that keep me safe.
Grandpa Johnston.
For that I must thank you.
*Friends.

BOOM! The explosion rumbles the Earth, shaking so nothing stands still.
BRRIING! Telephones screaming in ears, then, dead silence.
BLINK-BLINK! BLINK-BLINK! Car signals flicker, trying to rush where they belong.
BEEEP! Fire alarms start going off in every home.
BOOOP! Fire engines start roaring down the streets.
BLAST! Water hits the burning buildings with bacon-like sizzles.

I never studied…
I hardly opened my book.
Yeah, I showed up to class.
But all I did was play hangman with Griffin in the back of the class.
Nobody ever mentioned having a test.
Sur, it was on the board for a couple of weeks,
But I don’t read well!
And, it’s not like you can listen real well when you have earbuds in!
Besides, how useful is it to label a map when you’re going to play professional football or hockey?
Man, are my parents going to **** me.
It’s not like I completely failed the test…
I could label the U.S., Hawaii, and Alaska…
That would’ve been three points right there if I’d labeled the right things…
The teacher even went as far as making up names!
Colorado? Maine? Belgium?
And get this,
He didn’t even include all 53 states!
****… Trying to trip me up…
Besides, how many people were able to label 100 or more things on the world map?
How lame.
Oh God…
I see her in the parking lot.
She’s in the car, beckoning me over.
Before I can even comprehend what’s happening,
I find myself walking over.
I’m *******…
******* beyond belief…
I’ll never be able to play football or hockey again…
I open the door and slide in the front seat.
“How was your day?”
The interrogation starts.
“Fine! Why do you want to know?
It’s not like I’m failing my geography class!
It’s not like I’ll never be able to play hockey or football again because you’re going to ****** me once you see my test score!”
*******…
I just blew it.
Mom tightened her grip on the wheel.
Her knuckles were whiter than my new shoes.
I can’t believe I just did that.
The rest of the car ride was silence.
Sheer, pure, violent silence.

You’re royal.
You come in so many shades.
There is something about you that is…
Versatile.
You can be warm, inviting, cheery, and gay.
Yet, there is another side.
One that is darker and much more intense.
“How do you do it?” Is the question being asked.
You appear in the rainbow.
On stickers, in jewelry, on coats…
Somehow, you show up everywhere.
Yet, so many people forget you…
There’s something about you…
Radiant and full.
Bright and dark.
There and not there.
You’re the whole package.

Oh wow…
Wowie wow wow wow!
He sure is cute.
His name is Kevin.
And I’m in love with him!
I don’t know much about Kevin, though.
He used to play football,
Until he blew out his knee.
But I bet he was real good!
Now, he’s majoring in chemistry.
It would be a lot better if he were smart…
Unfortunately, Kevin has a sponge for a brain…
He doesn’t know the difference between a mixture or a substance.
I don’t even think he knows his face from his ***…
It’s a good thing he’s cute though.
So very cute.
His hair is very short and black.
It frames his angular face like a beautiful picture of Queen Victoria is framed in a diamond frame.
Kevin’s eyes are blue.
A miraculous, bright blue.
It’s a good thing that he’s cute,
Because he really is a brick…

I like him so much.
But it could never happen between us...
We're just too different.
But I still like him.
He always wears basketball shorts.
Ooh, they look so **** on him.
And his shirts.
They're so simple.
Just graphic tees that relate to sports!
But when you put al of it together,
It's perfect.
He's perfect.
All of these thoughts are wrong.
He' older.
He's married.
He's my teacher...

I was so nervous when I enrolled for college.
The thought of moving out and living on my own terrified me.
So on my first day of class,
There really were butterflies in my stomach.
I walked into class about 10 minutes early.
Better early than late.
Alone I sat in the front row.
Other students trickled in slowly.
There were 17 of us total.
Finally, the professor walked in.
And I was sure glad that he did…
Mr. Professor was no doubt the most attractive man I had ever seen.
He had messy, mousy brown hair that fell loosely over his eyes.
He had a strange, crooked mouth that easily curled up into a smile.
His eyes were strange…
One was a light, minty green-grey.
The other was a brown that was the color of Root-Beer.
And his voice…
It was relatively high for a man.
But it sounded perfect.
When he was reading the class syllabus,
I didn’t comprehend a word he said.
I wanted him to notice me.
So I raised my hand and asked questions.
Questions about the future,
The grading system,
Big projects,
Everything and Anything.
Mr. Professor definitely noticed me.
Mission accomplished.
I literally did everything to get him to like me.
I dressed exceptionally well for class.
All of my homework was done perfectly.
An A+ student.
But at the end of the trimester,
I realized that none of my insane fantasies could come true.
He is my teacher.
But that never stopped me from loving him.

Shocking shakes from the Spring ground shoot everything skyward.
Screams & shrill shouts soar through the skies.
Shrimp-sized children spring out of bed to safety.
“Shouldn’t this be happening somewhere else?” so many scream out.
Shrubs stirred out of sports shoot in the windows.
Finally, Haiti’s people stop dead in their tracks.
The Spring ground’s shakes stop, but screams don’t

So many things will be cherished a never before.
All resources will be used to the fullest.
Verdures will cover the ground.
Optimism will make life last longer.
Ruby red roses will smell sweet forevermore.

A child was born on this day
Under the roof of the St. Cloud Hospital
Great things would happen to this child
Unrealistic ideas would flow through her mind
Surprising events would happen to her in her life
This day would be thought to her as the day of the Peridot
1 love will die
1 day will be secretly feared
9 watches will start a fetish
9 candles will always be lit in her heart
7 will be her magical number

Maisie
I love her so
I need to cherish her
Because she could go any time
Don’t go

Many people think about the zombie apocalypse.
The dead are finally awaken.
The classic green skin.
Jet black hair.
Stitches all over their skin.
Jumbled up speech as if they’re drunk.
They walk with their arms in front of them.
All of the zombies walk together, hungry for brain.
The town as a whole screams in terror.
But then what?
The movie ends.
It’s the last page or chapter of the book.
We never find out what happens.
Does everyone die unanimously?
Do the zombies **** themselves?
Do we all live in harmony?
I don’t know.
I was merely curious.
Do you know?
If you do,
Then you can finish this poem.

Time goes by,
And I get even more drunk.
When I don't have a bottle or flask in my hand,
I crave the alcohol.
I want the alcohol.
My addiction is free in terms of money.
But in terms of life,
I'm being ******* over...
My grades start to slip.
My friends and family notice that there's something not right about me.
I lie through my teeth.
I'm fine...
You're just being paranoid!
Everything is okay, I'm just having trouble with focusing...

Home alone,
Empty bottle in my hand.
4 empty bottles on the floor beside me.
I come to.
I ***** for an hour.
My head is pounding immensely...
Nothing feels right anymore.
I realize that I feel worse than before.
No matter how many bottles I empty,
It just doesn't make me feel better anymore.

Late at night,
Everyone is asleep.
I creep outside,
With a bag full of empty bottles.
I trek out past the house,
And head to the junkyard about a mile away.
All of my bottles scatter on the ground.
One by one,
I pound them with a baseball bat.
My anger pushes the bat to break each bottle.
Before I can finish though,
I fall to my knees.
Dear God,
What have I done?
I have gotten myself into nothing but trouble.
I need your help,
O Lord.
I can't do this by myself.
I don't want any more bottles.
Help me and guide me, O Lord...


I stand before you today a changed person.
A person who wants to change the world,
Because she has already changed herself.
Never again will I touch another bottle.
I won't touch another bottle because I don't need to.
I'm better than that.
I can make it in this world.
Times will be rough,
But I can make it.
One day at a time.
Sober all the while...

Toby
What a good dog
Toby went through a lot
We went through a lot together
Goodbye

Watches
Great trend setters
Designed fashionably
Time-telling trap around your wrist
Quartz face

Starting with aardvark, ending with zygote.
Why are there so many words?
Who comes up with them all?
Why don’t we know them all?
Are there just as many words in other languages?
I’m writing, and am just realizing how many words there are.
Too many to count.
Yet, why are we so divided?
Why don’t we all speak the same language?
Wouldn’t that just make life easier?
Everyone could understand everyone else.
No more Portuguese, Spanish, Italian, or German…
Just plain English.
Or Latin, or Mandarin.
Whatever everyone wants to speak.
How many words would then be eliminated?
It’s crazy to think about that…
Yet interesting and calming…
To think that everyone could speak the same language…
Everyone use the same words.
Would that be simpler, or more complex?

Don’t you ever just have that… urge?
That ****** urge that’s tugging at all of your fibers.
The times where you want it so bad, but you just can’t…
That urge…
That ****** urge…
It’s the worst.
But it’s the best worst.

It totally ****** me up.
Not only life,
Drama,
Boyfriends, and
Friends...
But alcohol.
For the longest time,
I refused to admit that I had a problem.
Life for me just...
Plummeted.
I felt alone.
Nobody was my friend.
I had seen too much death.
I watched them get arrested.
Problems became worse.
I was left for dead.
What other choice did I have?
I couldn't just commit suicide.
I'm too good for that...
Cutting?
Eww...
I don't like blood.
Especially not mine!
Drugs?
Too expensive.
Besides,
I don't want to fry my brain!
I'm too smart for that!
Alcohol?
No, I...
It's...
Why not?
Why not drink?
I can get my hands on some for free...
Why not?


Bottle number 1.
I tingle.
I lose sense of reality.
I don't remember anything.
It tastes so awful.

Bottle number 2.
I can't feel anything.
Reality and life continue to slip away.
My memory weakens even further!
It's starting to taste better.

Bottle number 3.
Holy crap...
My vision blurs,
And my language slurs.
I'm where I want to be...

One day goes by.
I kind of want another bottle...
Two days go by.
I'm kind of thirsty...
Got any alcohol?
Just a drop will do...
One week.
I
Want
Some
Now.
One month.
I can't stand it anymore.
Where's the bottle?

The coral reefs are colored Christmas lights, decorating the ocean with color and light.
The top of the water is glass, reflecting and capturing all of the Sun’s light.
The sand is wet cement, squishy and soft, allowing foot prints to walk and mark on top.
The fish are elegant ribbons on a dream catcher, swishing and swooshing around the ocean.
The old sluggish turtles are molasses, slowly making their way through the deep, salty sea water.
The boat propellers scouring through the water are knives, splicing through the water as if it were butter.

Our World turns slowly. She
protects us all, and all we do
to thank her, is **** her.

The sharp cacti are needles in a pin cushion, sticking their needles out to ***** the finger of a helpless person.
The dry, rough ground is a pair of Winter Lips, in need of moisturizing.
The one tree every 50 miles is a rain drop in a drought, treasured and loved by everyone in the desert.
The one of few ponds is a warm, rich, and steamy bath, used so much until it’s gone.

I've been having *** with you for more than a year now.
For the longest time,
I had nobody in my life.
There wasn't anybody to hold me at night when I was alone.
Nobody to kiss me when I was scared.
Nobody to cuddle with me when it was cold outside.
Nobody to feel and touch me when I needed it.
Then you walked into my life.
I thought that I was totally satisfied.
Everything seemed to be in perfect balance.
I loved myself,
And I loved you.
But now,
I feel nothing.
Sure, I still love you.
Sure, I'm glad that we have made passionate love together.
But it's not what I want.
I'm no longer happy.
I actually started to weep when you held me in your arms.
I felt disgusted when you touched me and undressed me.
It just...
Wasn't there...
How can life change so much in a year?
Why am I no longer happy with my life?
How did I get ****** into a cycle of a meaningless life?
And now that I'm stuck,
How can I escape?

He irritates me.
Bothers me,
Annoys me,
Angers me,
Talks down to me at times,
But I still love him!
There isn't a day that goes by when I don't think of him.
Not in the romantic, gushy way,
But rather in a best friend way.
He's sort of the older brother that I've always wanted,
But was never blessed with.

I never know how to act around Lesnau...
Will I say something to offend him?
Or maybe he'll think of me differently.
It's odd,
Because he doesn't know much about me.
I usually let my teachers get to know me,
And I get to know them.
But that's not how it is with Lesnau.
I want to know him better.
Believe me,
I do.
But Lesnau is somewhat of a closed book...
He only lets us in on certain things.
But why
Why be so secretive?
C'mon Lesnau...
Lemme in!
Because I'm knockin' at your door!

The sharp cacti are needles in a pin cushion, sticking their needles out to ***** the finger of a helpless person.
The dry, rough ground is a pair of Winter lips, in need of moisturizing.
The one tree every 50 miles is a rain drop in a drought, treasured and loved by everyone in the desert.
The one of few ponds is a warm, rich, and steamy bath, used so much until it’s gone.

I waited for too long...
I watched the papers pile up all around me.
Day after day,
I basked in the wonder known as nothing.
Now I must do it all.
Do it all,
And accept the consequences.
So,
Why did I wait so long to get started?
Because that television program was providing me with fabulous and life-changing opportunities?
Because that computer game was going to educate me until my brain became scrambled?
Because that bag of potato chips was helping me live my life to the fullest?
Yup...
Those were some great choices...

Power in words and pure actions rather than guns, death, and pain.
Everyone willing to think rationally.
Acceptance of everyone, no matter what they are.
Calm, serene, healthy lifestyles.
Even the smallest people can make decisions.

The days of Summer ooze out of the calendar.
As the days multiply, I find myself losing my sanity.
No real routine to keep me in line.
My contact with the outside world slips through my fingers.
What I used to know leaks out of my entirety.
There is simply nothing real for me to do.
All of what I do is one big mirage that fades away as Autumn nears.
As Summer drips outside my reach,
I thank the Lord that the mild hell-hole known as Summer is gone.
That is when I start to pull and tug at the amazing wonder of Autumn.
I start to love life all over again.
But before I know it, Summer slaps me in the face.

We’ve all been called angels, right?
How is that possible, though?
Angels live in Heaven.
They are more pure than the freshly fallen snow on Winter’s Night.
Their wings are more delicate than eyelashes.
The gold halos atop their heads are harder than diamonds.
They’ve got pale skin that’s clearer and cleaner than a ******.
Angels are too perfect to live on Earth.
Humans are too marred and destructive to be angels.
How does anybody become an angel?
Does God keep the best ones for himself up in Heaven?
Why are angels so perfect?
What would the world be like if everyone was an angel?
Would the fun be taken out of life?
How perfect would the world really be?
If we all were angels, what would Heaven be like?
I just thought…
How do we even know what angels are?
What if we are all angels?
Why wonder…
Too many ifs.
Let’s not ruin our thoughts about some of the most wonderful things.

We played together.
Toby and I snuggled, too.
We loved each other.
You were my very first dog.
But you aren't my last dog.

Joking occurs, but no one is hurt.
On Earth, not a soul is deprived or sick.
You are always happy, healthy, wanted, and laughing.

Irate!
You push me over the edge.
Furious!
You don’t stop.
Enraged!
All you do is… that!
Infuriated!
I try to keep calm, but it just won’t work!
Angry!
Please stop it for goodness sake!
Fuming!
I’m becoming a bomb, ready to erupt!
Satisfied.

I didn’t want something to happen.
It didn’t happen.
I didn’t sabotage anything.
I prayed that it wouldn’t happen.
Honestly, it was for the best that it never happened.
People may not know it now, but they will.
In due time.
As I look around me, I see things.
Some people are so happy that they’re laughing.
Others are devastated.
No words can be spoken.
They know they’ll get over it.
Some people don’t even care.
All they do is…
Nothing.
What do I do?
Laugh.
Cheer.
Hoot and holler in sheer delight.
This isn’t the greatest day of my life.
But I’m still happy.
I don’t feel bad in the slightest.
I don’t even look back.
Would You?

***** them.
What right do they have to rule my life?
They're so intrusive.
So commanding and demanding.
I know what I want to do.
I know what I want out of life.
But evidently that isn't good enough.
I want to do whatever I want, whenever I want.
It is absolutely unfair the way they try to run my life.
"Do this."
"Do that."
"Why would you do that?"
"You have no idea about it."
Well you know what?
I HAVE A CLUE!
I've been put on this Earth for a reason.
And it's not to live under he rules of someone else.
My purpose is to run my own life.
To live the life that I choose for myself.
To figure out what God wants for me.
To just be happy.

As sad as watching them go to college.
As sad as saying your final goodbye.
As sad as watching them leave you alone on Earth.
As sad as giving your daughter away.
As sad as leaving the place you love.
As sad as telling Winter goodbye.
As sad as going to their grave.
As sad as putting your pet to eternal sleep.
As sad as saying hello to Heartbreak Hotel.
As sad as watching Marley and Me.
As sad as watching their plane go high.
As sad as reading this poem.
As sad as you having no more tears.
Is my heart.

It wasn’t your time to go.
We still had time together.
But the force of death pulled our love apart.
And of course not forever.
When we meet at the Pearly Gates of Heaven,
My heart will once again be complete.
But until then,
Farewell.
Farewell to all of the good days we had together.
I still have memories, but,
Memories aren’t the same as actually living the memories.
So until we meet again,
Goodbye.
But not forever

The moon is a round candle, lighting up the sky in flashes of light.
The stars are thousands of diamonds, sparkling and showing off in the night sky.
The black sky itself is a large piece of black velvet.
The dark, dead clouds of the night are ravens, soaring elegantly through the deep, black sky.

The ground lures the Fall
Leaves to leave their home and come down
And cover the dead grass.