Samantha Van Sickle: Favorites

Nov 2011 Samantha Van Sickle

Hayley Neininger

Tress grow slower than we do, she says,
They gestate longer in the soil than we do in our mothers
True, we were both at one time seeds, she says,
But trees grew out, while we grew up
By the time we learned to walk
A tree will have only fastened its branches
It will have rooted its self in a home
That, like us, was not self-elected but while
We are constantly trying to walk from our home
A tree is rooting itself in theirs.
We grow up and walk around our parent’s house
Then our neighborhood, our city, our country, our world
Glimpsing only meager morsels of other beings homes
It’s difficult to pinpoint our own, to know it wholly
But a tree, she says, a tree never walks from its home
And through this it knows it so absolutely, so entirely.
A tree grows slowly, gazing at its environment for years
Far past when our timeline has expired
It watches as its atmosphere changes, even in the slightest
It still grows higher and higher at a pace that allows
It to view every intimate detail of the world it resides in
Never failing to notice every leaf, twig, branch
We don't know our homes like that and
It’s a shame, she says,
That we grow a lot faster than trees do,
Perhaps this is why we get home-sick.

Jul 2011 Samantha Van Sickle

Some days

Jul 2011 Samantha Van Sickle

Samuel

Some days

Some days you wake up and don't want to do anything
Some days you lay on the couch and take a marathon of naps to the tune of endless sitcoms
Some days your body aches and your mind vaguely recalls what you put yourself through the day before
Some days you don't think you can continue

Those are the days that make you stronger
But only if you get up.

Mar 2011 Samantha Van Sickle

The Boy

Mar 2011 Samantha Van Sickle

Rachel Sinclair

The Boy

He looks at me and smiles
And my insides melt to goo
He pulls me close, lips to my ear
And whispers "I love you"

He takes my hand instantly
Our fingers intertwine
He claims that I make his day
But I know that he makes mine

I shuffle closer to him
Because I like him near
I feel his finger on my cheek
As he sweeps away my hair

He looks at me and smiles
And my insides melt to goo
He pulls me close, lips to my ear
And whispers "I love you"

Mar 2011 Samantha Van Sickle

Heart to Heart

Mar 2011 Samantha Van Sickle

Megan Kirby

Heart to Heart

We're losing the art of writing,
The sensuality of written words on a page,
Too many people are just typing,
Never feeling the words true pain.

The intensity of a letter,
As it flows from a pen,
The ink splotches that mold together,
To tell the story we hold within.

The signature that shows them,
Exactly who we are,
From pen to paper,
From heart to heart.

I realize this seems ironic being as it's been typed and posted to HP, but I write all my poems by hand in a notebook... so, that taken into account... it's sincere? I don't know, take it to mean what you will I suppose ;)

Mar 2011 Samantha Van Sickle

Poetic Death

Mar 2011 Samantha Van Sickle

Andrew Elkins

Poetic Death

The knife cuts so deeply into your skin,
so silently is seeps into your arm,
like the words you sold to me in my sin,
but I'm the one you want to harm.
This saw blade buzzes on your arms and legs,
violently ripping them apart so graciously,
like when you used to pull mine in your begs,
so now you get your own medicine only more tenaciously.
I take these tweezers and so gently pluck out your eyes,
and all I can hear are your lying screams,
"Oh don't hurt me, they weren't lies!,
it is just a coincidence that they line up with the seams!"
I am getting weary of your voice,
once felt good to hear so I will just sew it up shut,
you can only cry now but that is just your choice,
like you "always did" like a little ****.
I want you to digest my voice and hear it in pain,
this was the only time I could let you know it,
I will just rip your stomach open and let it breathe while you are still sane,
hold on though because I am not just done with you yet.
Finally and lastly with hatred seeping from my skin,
I take this scalpel and carve out your heart,
don't worry Christian for I have already repent for this sin,
and these last words just seemed so smart:
"I love you, but remember my darling,
you said your heart was mine,
you told me no matter your snarling,
your heart was forever mine."

Mar 2011 Samantha Van Sickle

The Last Time

Mar 2011 Samantha Van Sickle

narsim

The Last Time

If you knew then
  that the last embrace was the LAST time you will be in her arms
would you have hugged a little tighter

If you knew then
  that the last fight was the LAST time you disagreed with her
would you have been more forgiving

If you knew then
  that the last dance was your LAST time you would be in her arms
would you have danced a little longer

If you knew then
that the last gift was the LAST gift you would ever give her
would you have put in a little more thought  into the present

If you knew then
that the last stroll together was the LAST time you walked hand in hand
would you have walked a little further

If you knew then
  that the last time you saw her smile was the last time she smiled back at you
would you have captured the moment forever in your heart

If you knew then
   that the last time she cried on you shoulder was the LAST time she would need your support
would you been more understanding and supportive

If you treat every moment
  as possibly the last moment
would you not then LIVE in the MOMENT?

Mar 2011 Samantha Van Sickle

Coughing Up a butterfly

Mar 2011 Samantha Van Sickle

KAT

Coughing Up a butterfly

I just coughed up a butterfly.
Oh and here comes another smile.
Look down before contact is made.
A tiny giggle slips
Meeting with those eyes again
Blush
my cheeks match my lips
I seen you looking
look away
Brush the hair off my shoulder
Exposed
Open smile with nothing to say
Breathe deep
breaths are shallow
I know it is snowing
But I swear I am melting
If you know you are doing this
How can you do it with a genuine sparkle?
That smile you do with those eyes
Oh I am mesmerized

Mar 2011 Samantha Van Sickle

You Know Who You Are

Mar 2011 Samantha Van Sickle

Jon Tobias

You Know Who You Are

You can’t leave without getting what you came here for

I know it’s hard

Finding meaning in life is about as cliché as a needle in a haystack

Just achin’ to fill in the empty spots

With anything you can get your hands on

Got some gaps festering

Afraid to unplug and let the hurt bleed out

Cuz at least you know your holes are full

But life

It punches us toothless

Won’t let us sleep at night

With the ache of mystery

You want a purpose

Hold tight and live

Just live

Like plants and housecats

Someone once told me that there’s a forest of redwoods out there

So big with roots so tightly woven you can’t tell where one tree begins and another ends

You got roots planted in my heart

Each step you take is a purpose

I can feel you even when you aren’t close

So don’t leave me

Not yet

We got too much fire fueling engines in our feet

Just walk with me

I’ll find you a purpose

There are haystacks everywhere

And a heartful of needles buried beneath

Just don’t leave

before you get

Whatever it is that you need

Mar 2011 Samantha Van Sickle

Were All Just Ghost's

Mar 2011 Samantha Van Sickle

Conor Cleveland

Were All Just Ghost's

We see our lives go day by day,
Floating away to where we can't grasp...
Non-palpable,
Until we feel that we have achieved our dreams...

We let the mistakes we've made haunt us,
Until we make them right...
It rips away at us...

But even in the bad there is your good,
You remember the faces...
The faces of the people you once loved...

You reach for them...
There a guiding light to bring you back into this world,
Out of the shadows that have absorbed you...

Your among the living again...
Thanks to the people who care for you,
The Truth is we can't live until you do...

So keep living, and we will live just the same...
A convergence of souls...
To guide the others,
From the Shadows