Poetic T May 2014

Draw me in pencil,
Draw me in chalk,
Draw me in bright colours,
Draw me with shades,
Or draw me paint brush
Stokes and all,
But if you draw me in your mind, do it so you never forget me at all.

Kristo Frost Mar 2013

Hear the symphony of the room you surround yourself with.
Have you already heard this song?

Sip your current State.
Do you like it?

How now a brown cow.
Are you even listening?

Pass your homework to the front of the class.
Were you daydreaming again?

Hana Gabrielle Feb 2014

the lulls of fog hug close
to the hips of the hills
in the soaked grass
and the sighs of February

the styrofoam sticks
burned to the roots,
compact in the cracks
of the sidewalk so packed
into my memory

and the powdered
leaves sweetness
on the base of my tongue

the hooves of fog
race us
they dance between the trees
bucking at the thunder
at the bursting
of my anticipation

Chloe Sep 2014

Look at the size of that chalk outline,
The evidence labelled from one to nine,
Hear the sirens cry throughout the night,
The screams of despair, the gasps at the sight.

For the chalk outline, common it was,
White powder stained with drops of blood,
Outlining a corpse, a reflection of death,
But this one was less, than two feet in length

Tell me your favorite fears
I can take it.

Throw me away.
I might
to come back.

Cuts in my soul
like chalk on my sidewalk
wash away
where they once were.

Vibrant colors
fresh words
fresh newness
striking the stone.

Marks are so easily made.

Time passes
colors wash away
to white
to grey
a memory
invisible molecules.

the rock
remains still.

Victoria Essex Nov 2012

Colored streaks on the pavement
Grinding stone against stone
We return our source of enjoyment to the Earth
Sidewalk chalk tastes like childhood.

Body tracings, blue skies, big fish-- our cement canvas is filled
Filled with youthful thoughts and unlikely realities
A world of our own creation;
One we can stomp on
Cross out
Wash away

The presence of an unknown friend
Everyone is a friend, we are young and naive
“Draw with us, Draw with us”
Our wonder reaped the same;
The new face shows only bewilderment

“Draw with us”

Chubby childish hands exchange colored chalk
Despite our encouragement, this outlander won’t join in
It’s now a game for us
“Draw with us, Draw with us”
Foreign motions, fast moving fingers, a frustrated face

“Draw with us”

His hesitant movements are masked
By an apologetic smile
He brings new things to our Crayola-created universe
A trumpet, its player, a lion in mid-roar,
All things ordinary
Nothing we’ve drawn before

Like the colors we immerse ourselves in
Our company doesn’t last
Our accomplice offers a wave
Leaving his silent marks in our little world.

Jack C Preston Apr 2013

It wasn't too long ago when I last saw you
But forever is an overwhelming state of mind
See, all emotions are transferrable to expression
It's not by force
But by watching the spool roll down the hallway and unwind
I could never roll it back up
So I learned how to knit
You learn adaptation, and to control your mind
Energies can take harsh tolls
On the stamina of your patience
So just stop thinking from time to time.

I'm a cloud of useless waste of particles.
I float freely, I fall slowly.
I'm a useless dust of chalk. Wasted.
What is my purpose?
After my knowledge?
After I have made my marks on the board?
What am I bound to do?
After I sit steady in the cold, dark place that I stain? That I ruin?

I'm a useless powdered material.
I stay stationary, I move slightly.
I'm a useless left over matter of chalk. Unimportant.
No appreciation for my knowledge.
No notice for my wisdom.
Is my purpose to be unseen?
Is my purpose to irritate eyes and wreck souls?

I'm a chalk dust in a dark, cold corner...
Soliloquy is my game.
What I play. every time. everyday
Intentionally left behind,
By my knowledge, my wisdom, my faith, my truth.
I'm now
A Nobody.

I vanish, and I flourish and I fly.
I'm a chalk dust with no purpose.
And so, the soul had fled the existing body.
And in the end, I see...
My useless soul, my life...
Under appreciated

xx jnldm

first timer. pardon the emotional poem. this was actually for my lit. class and  my lit. teacher told me to hang here and post some of ze works. hahaha... lol bye. nvr mnd this note. it's so useless lol. -jnldm
Wasted Youth Feb 2015

I'm suffocating in a old classroom because I have a chalkboard covered with equations of me trying to figure out
Who the
You're talking
Like that

Weak I was but I'm strong know
Mind and body and my fist have an itch that can only be soothed by burying them in your face
This heart that never intends harm is calling for

Noor Sep 2013

My bones taste like chalk
My blood tastes like copper
Pursuit of dreams needs subsistence

I consume myself today to find my tomorrow
Hopeful, I pull myself bleeding forward
I must endure
I can almost reach it

r Nov 2015

I was ten when
I got caught stealing
blue chalk from the pool hall.

My daddy wore me out
with a black leather belt.

He said What'd I tell you
about writing sad poems
on the back of the stones
at the orphan's graveyard?

Mike Hauser Sep 2013

She's written my name in chalk

On the blackboard of her heart

Without a second thought

She could easily brush me off

With eraser in her hand

She's always making other plans

Always with some other man

Whose name is also written in chalk

On the blackboard of her heart

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