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 Aug 2014 Peeka
Carmen Etoile
Stars
 Aug 2014 Peeka
Carmen Etoile
Someday you will

look up to the

sky for

real.

Where there is

millions and

trillions of

stars.

Where lights truly

shine.

Where sound could

not travel but

yet you can still hear.

Where your

dreams

truly

lies.

Where dreams are

realities.

Where realities are

dreams.

Where you can

truly

lose

yourself to

nothingness.
 Aug 2014 Peeka
Erin Hankemeier
"It would be a privilege to have my heart broken by you."
-Agustus Waters
The Fault In Our Stars
This is my favorite quote from the novel/movie "The Fault In Our Stars". The character Agustus Waters said this to Hazel Lancaster whom he loves deeply. He loves her so much that he said this to prove that he longs to be with her, even if they do not last.
 Aug 2014 Peeka
Daylight 4U2C
To those who hate us,
and don't know why.
To those who love us,
and try not to cry~

Given a seal,
molded in fate.
Not infinite.
So cruel, but unchanging.

It is not simply a seal
which will bring sorrow,
but all same the letter.
The letter of whom.
The letter of when,
where,
what,
why.
Assimilating to feel as if a scroll,
when set in rewind.
Molded in thus fate.
Fate is not the seal,
but the mold to which create.
Fate being start.
Fate is not the end,
but the beginning.
What you make of the beginning,
is solely yours to make,
while it will be the final impression,
upon the seal.
Upon the letter
unchanged,
but not unchangeable.
And done away,
or kept by side,
to live on as the end of ending.
I was influenced by The Fault In Our Stars to write a poem about dying of cancer.
If you understand it, it makes sense.
 Aug 2014 Peeka
T Thomas
e83
 Aug 2014 Peeka
T Thomas
e83
The full moon hung in the inky sky,
accompanied by tiny glimmering stars.
The chilly summer air kissed my skin,
giving me goosebumps that reminded me
that I was alive.
That this world was mine.

The darkness of the night filled me,
with a surge of lust, power, and freedom.
Your bright eyes held an enigmatic spark,
that magnetized my midnight mirrors.
Time had become stagnant.
There was a magic,
so passionate,
planets moved.
 Aug 2014 Peeka
Andrew Fisher
Standing here... For the last time
I am consumed with the necessity to feel.

However, despite my best efforts I can do not but sit and observe
This strange lack of feeling
The black emptiness that flows around the others trimmed in gold.
I realize it is the one fact that remains after all the chaos
... I will miss this place.
Maybe not right this second,
Perhaps not even tomorrow.
But someday... one day... I will weep.
For these were some of the most beautiful days of existence.
And I had the privilege of living them.
This was written at and during my high school graduation ceremony, I hope you guys will enjoy it.
 Aug 2014 Peeka
Kit
Moving on.
 Aug 2014 Peeka
Kit
Here's to the last four years.
To the English teacher that changed my way of thinking. Forever.
To the friends (and enemies) I've made along the way.
To the friends that left and the ones that stayed.
The ones that stayed up with me until all hours of the night
When I felt like everything was going to hell.

Here's to that innocent tenth grade fling.
To the feeling of falling in love for the very first time.
To the feeling of telling him how I felt over the phone.
To the feeling of him saying it back.
To performing onstage with friends and goofing off behind the curtain.
To all of the people who told me, "it's not worth it."

Here's to the Health teacher, who I have the utmost respect for.
To that band that I owe everything to.
To that boy who walked to my house in the freezing cold at 2 AM,
The one who ultimately broke me.
To the people who put me back together in the aftermath.
To that other boy who would never give up.

Here's to the times I've said "I hate this so much."
To the countless times I've skipped a day because I didn't want to get up.
To the choir teacher that everyone loved and looked up to.
To the choir that felt like a second family.
To the shy boy that I didn't include in the group project.
To the guilt I'll feel forever because of it.

Here's to the smiles, the tears, the fears, the stress.
To the people that helped me get a grip on reality.
To the boy that everyone poked fun at, the one I hugged everyday.
To the beautiful girl who made me tea and took me to Winter Homecoming.
To the three boys who hated me in eleventh grade.
To the boy laying dormant.

Here's to the girl who will think about all of this
And so much more when she walks across the stage.
Head held high, holding that piece of paper in her hands.
She's defeated a beast, she has.
She tosses her hat up in the air and lets out a cry of victory.
She's won. She's moving on to bigger and better things.

Thank you.
I'm graduating high school in less than two months. This is my tribute to the good, the bad, and everything in between. This has been the single hardest journey in my life thus far. I dread seeing the end come near, but I can't wait for it to be over.
 Aug 2014 Peeka
mark john junor
whom do you trust
solider, sailor, tinker, tailor....
what eyes see the meaning of the blind
what tongues listen...which lies
in the picturesque morning
beauty spins its deceptions with golden hued sunlight
weaves its hand puppet theatricals made of
fleeting wisps of smiles
kissing gestures weakly delivered
    solider,  sailor,  tinker,  tailor...
    they gather round the dead man
    some come to mourn the lost
    some come to rifle through his pockets
    some come to silently wait for their own fate
he sits in his worn chair
in a pool of lamplight
with a small hammer in hand
his spectacles on bridge of his nose
tapping tapping ever so gently the thin metal mask
tinker...tailor...sailor...solider
the uniform of his mind shifts according to his lie
his tool is always the deceptions and misdirections
a sly smile...firm handshake...a signature style
'to whom do you trust' is a phrase that troubles him
her perfume lingers in the air
years have buried the cold war
but not its warriors
not their handiwork
     they dress the dead man for his burial
     with his decorations and platitudes
     with his shiny sword and neat uniform
     with honors they lay him
     with truths his secret they bury him
     why did he do thus....to whom did he answer
     to the tomb with his truths and lies
     to the tomb
he gathers the long coat
and the umbrella
walks out in london's chill spring night
to a bridge
and throws a small box into the river
long years after the cold war died
these men of shadows still play
these keepers of the gate still watch for hannibal and his horde
solider,  sailor,  tinker,  tailor
whom do you trust
(reference to John Le Carre's novel)
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