1
poor Rachael
married for love
Now twenty years through
and ignored by the hubby
who’s given up work
and sits at home drinking all day
No more kind words to Rachael
never a gentle look,
but just sarcasm and imbecilities all day
Will not even come out for a walk
with Rachael;
no desire for fresh air
just sits there drinking and farting -
Poor Rachael, she never comes back
to fresh air or a kind look






2
Rachael is out today
with a mission to make her life pleasant
“A pet is what I’ll have,”
she says to herself
and she’s in a pet shop now
looking at an exotic bird

3
“That there,” says the shop owner
“is a bird rare and unique;
let me demonstrate”
And straight he says to the bird:
“Zasala, the table!”
And Zasala flies straight and swift
to the table – and appecks* and demolishes
the table as swift as you can say “***!”
“Zasala, the broom!”
And Zasala flies straight and swift
to the broom – and appecks* and demolishes
the broom as swift as you can say “****!”


“I’ll take it," says Rachael, with a smile
Poor Rachael, she hasn’t smiled in years


4
“Darling,” says Rachael
the moment she gets home
“Look what I’ve got –
an exotic bird, Zasala!”


And straight Rachael’s clueless husband says:
*“Zasala, my foot!”

I want to be like Rachael Ray
Not for money or fame but because
I'd deliver my perfect eggplant parmesan
To great enthusiastic applause

I'd like to slice an onion, too
Just like the smiling Rachael does
Or complete a sweet peach cobbler
To the sound of ooh's and aah's

You don't have to weep with joy often
Over last night's chocolate mousse batch
Just put your hands together, can't you?
To deliver that 5-minute clap

I know it sounds quite arrogant
Desiring such full appreciation
But that feeling keeps washing over me
Wanting accolades for my creations

Just once as I set dinner on the table
They all inhale in admiration
While they leap to their feet spontaneously
To give me my standing ovation!

THE COURSE CHOSEN   06-29-10 (In Memory of Rachael Ruinard 08-02-74 – 06-29-00)

I must finally, completely convey to you
There is not one whit that you can do
To stop the course of whatever I choose
Don't worry, there's nothing
that you have to loose

It’s your new beginning, a life without pain
You shudder and quiver; you shake off the pain
You  let all of it go; you sail away to live again

My clowded eyes soon become
insufficient resevoirs,
Drops of heavy salt escape
and weigh heavy on my awkwardly bent  
lower lashes, causing a pain, aching and dull
At long last, the tears slide from my eyes,
followed by untold more
They etch acid rivulets down my  chalky cheeks  

unwsavering watchiung your departures
watching all of my efforts form a pool at my feet
It will soon be as if I have never been
Heavy with tears they remain unblinking It is time to exit, to quit hurting others
I’ll set my schedule after seeing my mother
She’s the only one I don’t always bother
Quick breath, I pull back in time to see.
I’ve led her to the brink of my insanity.

I tell her goodbye once more to soothe her
I spare her the knowledge, my agony wounds her
There really is no need to tell her
that none too soon, I'll be six feet under

I have no more will with which to conspire
A certain something is now required
A trickle of strength from those I’ve inspired
I’m tired, tired, just deadfully tired

My path is written in a fat wide ink
A river unwritten, of which I can’t speak
I agreed with you on an indivisible pact
It is broken now, by your unspeakable act

I try to drive off the causeways sometimes
But I live another day, which is no surprise
I think back to the moment of my demise

At that very last moment, at the end of my life.
After  convincing myself be to numb and blind.
Some sort of enigma rearranges my mind

Instead of watching my certain fall to death
I wake up to the smell of my acrid sweat.
In the nick of time, a blink of an eye.
I pull myself back from the electric fence.

I’m too scared to let go, please do me a favor
When I near the fence, push me into the wire
There I will leave towards my destiny, higher.

I’ll have gone with peace, not just one desired.
Soon I will be pulled from the eclectic wires
and tossed into licking pits of their fire
Or the dogs may eat me when they so desire

You build false conventions; you massage your convictions
I’m not just a patient with all sorts of addictions
I am your social condition with all its afflictions
I am hurt. I am real. I am not your fiction
Leave if you want, my path is clear
your trepidation is ugly, I sense your fear
You have no experience of what you see here
I do. I react to the evil that’s near.
You gave me up, you turned me out.
You did not know what my life was about
I believed you cared; I felt your concern
Only I decide, now, which way to turn.
You had to let go, my hand slipped out of yours
My life was quick, my thoughts endless hours
It is right for me, I don’t feel God’s ire
I will sleep better, I am not a liar

Above the gloom, doom, and my own deception
my unknown spirit is once again woken
Your eyes try to say something unspoken
But its not really you, you’re a humble God’s token
I will never again bow beneath myself
To gain the acceptance of someone else
I do what I do, I take my chances or else
Mother will bury me under an Oak’s dark shelf.

Once you held on, but your hands became wet
You haven’t learned the real lesson yet
The blame is a claim I own and regret.

Michael loves Rachael dearly,
as dearly as his own life.
Michael promises never,
never ever to leave her,
but forever and ever
to be and grow together,
Always one and transforming,
From today, days without end.

Every girl is envious of Rachael.
They too decided to choose Michael.

I suppose it’s best to
speak of her now;
her name only summons
ghosts and thoughts
of a woman long past.

Her name is like hands that
trace the globe of my mind
from the my brain—a small city,
public university, museums, a relic
of a war dividing country—

to her heart—a large city, the
rainiest in the country, or so they say
where we mutually met in the middle;
it was love, or at fifteen springs, I thought.

This map to her now only summons
ghosts and thoughts
of a woman long past.

I follow them through
the thruways of memories
of all she touched with her
human condition and hope that
the map leads me back to her.

It leads me to our
phone calls, where I’d sit on
the deck in just pants and drink
and she’d stand outside on her balcony
and we’d burn the mental incense of a dream
forever never coming to pass.

I suppose it’s best to
speak of her now;
her name only summons
ghosts and thoughts
of a woman long past.

The ghosts of long-lost
proclamations of love
haunt my mind.  It’s
easier for me to believe
that she never did mean it,
but at three in the morning,
I’m fond of sitting on the deck and drinking

And I burn the mental incense of a dream
never coming to pass.
And I confess none of this
as she is a ghost with only a map
but my fair Rachael, she haunts me.

It’s no longer safe
to speak her name;
it’s summoned ghosts
and thoughts
of a woman long past.

EVERY
SINGLE
DAY

I vibe your electromagnetic waves

THERE
IS
NO
WAY

to shake your swagger babe

NORTH
WIND
TAKE
ME
AWAY

sinking into the feel of it. The reel of it. Making a meal of that swirling lay.

PLAY BY PLAY

~Rachael Hays 9A15

The night holds me in her foggy embrace,
As I walk down this ***** alley,
It feels like someone else's tears are upon my face,
I dreamt music so sweet,
When she kissed my lips,
And we waltzed round the room.
She laid on my chest,
Listened to my heart beat,
Asked me if I ever dreamed,
When she was near the unknown ceased to loom,
She wasn't able to,
She only had memories of green.
In the back of my mind,
I know we don't have much time,
The unicorn that was left for me was a sign,
Suppose Rachael and I will go north,
To a place no one can find.
What I do know,
Is that I finally have something to call mine.

I am scared!
Scared of this world

Robert Godwin Sr
Alyssa Elsman

How many more have to die?
By my kind,
By their kind,
Because they blame some other kind
What ever happened to just being
kind?

Daniel Parmertor, Russell King, Jr., Demetrius Hewlin

Where were you when the World Trade Center went down?
It’s something everyone alive then will always remember
Never Forget! was our brand motto for American Pride

Krystle Marie Campbell, Lü Lingzi, Martin William Richard, Sean A. Collier, Dennis Simmonds

And now, the death of another is so commonplace
That we forget what and where.
It’s no longer personal enough to register where in our lives that it struck us
Only note that another life has been struck down
Add another tally to the equation
And still it does not add up

Trayvon Martin
Tamir Rice
Samuel DuBose
Delrawn Small
Philando Castile
Terence Crutcher
Heather Heyer

We are completely desensitized
And decentralized
We keep ourselves disconnected
(because we just can’t absorb,
Take,
Process it all)
It’s not us
It’s not me
It’s somebody else
Somewhere else.
Until it is
Then we care
How much can we take, before we break

Cynthia Marie Graham Hurd, Susie Jackson, Ethel Lee Lance, Depayne Middleton Doctor, Clementa C. Pinckney, Tywanza Sanders, Daniel Simmons, Sharonda Coleman Singleton, Myra Thompson

The tragedy is the comedy
We laugh so we don’t cry
Sakia Gunn
Richie Phillips
Nireah Johnson, Brandie Coleman
Glenn Kopitske
Scotty Joe Weaver
Jason Gage
Michael Sandy
Sean William Kennedy
Duanna Johnson
Lawrence "Larry" King
Angie Zapata
Lateisha Green
****** August Provost, III
Mark Carson

I can’t say I’ve never thought of committing violence.
Hell, when my ex-wife cheated, it occurred to me
And I can’t say that I have never hit another
I’ve been a kid
My whole life is designed just to grow up
But, I’ve thought of killing myself far more often than the thought to harm anyone else have ever occurred to me
Because my problems are mine;
My fault,
And I am not seeking some scapegoat

Keenya Cook, Jerry Taylor, Million A. Woldemariam, Claudine Parker, Hong Im Ballenge, James Martin, James L. Buchanan, Premkumar Walekar, Sarah Ramos, Lori Ann Lewis-Rivera, Pascal Charlot, Dean Harold Meyers, Kenneth Bridges, Linda Franklin née Moore, Jeffrey Hopper, Conrad Johnson, 1 unnamed victim

I am not going to deny that being a white male hasn’t allowed me to sidestep a whole level of *******
One day, angry white males will be the minority
And we’ll have no one left to blame, but ourselves.
If we don’t **** everyone first
If we don’t **** ourselves first

Michael Arnold, Martin Bodrog, Arthur Daniels, Sylvia Frasier, Kathy Gaarde, John Roger Johnson, Mary Francis Knight, Frank Kohler, Vishnu Pandit, Kenneth Bernard Proctor, Gerald Read, Richard Michael Ridgell

Jonathan Blunk, Alexander J. Boik , Jesse Childress, Gordon Cowden,
Jessica Ghawi, John Larimer, Matt McQuinn, Micayla Medek, Veronica Moser Sullivan, Alex Sullivan, Alexander C. Teves, Rebecca Wingo

The earth has already decided that we are a plague upon it
Maybe climate change is the natural response to the abuse of our gifts

Nancy Lanza, Rachel D'Avino, Dawn Hochsprung, Anne Marie Murphy,
Lauren Rousseau, Mary Sherlach, Victoria Leigh Soto, Charlotte Bacon, Daniel Barden, Olivia Engel, Josephine Gay, Dylan Hockley, Madeleine Hsu, Catherine Hubbard, Chase Kowalski, Jesse Lewis, Ana Márquez Greene, James Mattioli, Grace McDonnell, Emilie Parker, Jack Pinto, Noah Pozner, Caroline Previdi, Jessica Rekos, Avielle Richman, Benjamin Wheeler, Allison Wyatt

What is this world going to teach my son?
That he’s better because of how he looks?
Or what I’ve taught him:
You make yourself better.

Jamie Bishop, Jocelyne Couture Nowak, Kevin Granata, Liviu Librescu,  P
G. V. Loganathan, Ross Alameddine, Brian Bluhm, Ryan Clark, Austin Cloyd, Daniel Perez Cueva, Matthew Gwaltney, Caitlin Hammaren, Jeremy Herbstritt, Rachael Hill, Emily Hilscher, Matthew La Porte, Jarrett Lane, Henry Lee, Partahi Lumbantoruan, Lauren McCain, Daniel O'Neil, Juan Ortiz, Minal Panchal, Erin Peterson, Michael Pohle Jr., Julia Pryde, Mary Karen Read, Reema Samaha, Waleed Shaalan, Leslie Sherman, Maxine Turner, Nicole White

I work as a data analyst
So, I ran the numbers
But, these are more than numbers
These are people: sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, mothers, fathers, husbands, wives, friends, lovers.

Stanley Almodovar III, Amanda Alvear, Oscar A. Aracena Montero, Rodolfo Ayala Ayala, Alejandro Barrios Martinez, Martin Benitez Torres, Antonio D. Brown, Darryl R. Burt II, Jonathan A. Camuy Vega, Angel L. Candelario Padro, Simon A. Carrillo Fernandez, Juan Chevez Martinez, Luis D. Conde, Cory J. Connell, Tevin E. Crosby, Franky J. DeJesus Velazquez, Deonka D. Drayton, Mercedez M. Flores, Juan R. Guerrero, Peter O. Gonzalez Cruz, Paul T. Henry, Frank Hernandez, Miguel A. Honorato, Javier Jorge Reyes, Jason B. Josaphat, Eddie J. Justice, Anthony L. Laureano Disla, Christopher A. Leinonen, Brenda L. Marquez McCool, Jean C. Mendez Perez, Akyra Monet Murray, Kimberly Morris, Jean C. Nives Rodriguez, Luis O. Ocasio Capo, Geraldo A. Ortiz Jimenez, Eric I. Ortiz Rivera, Joel Rayon Paniagua, Enrique L. Rios Jr., Juan P. Rivera Velazquez, Yilmary Rodriguez Solivan, Christopher J. Sanfeliz, Xavier E. Serrano Rosado, Gilberto R. Silva Menendez, Edward Sotomayor Jr., Shane E. Tomlinson, Leroy Valentin Fernandez, Luis S. Vielma, Luis D. Wilson Leon, Jerald A. Wright

I did research to try to find all the victims since I became abruptly aware 16 years ago
There are too many
I could not discover a single database that contained a comprehensive record
No one can keep track of it anymore
I know I’ve missed people
I know there are 1000’s of people now missing people
Even 1 was too much

Hannah Ahlers, Heather Alvarado, Dorene Anderson, Carrie Barnette, Jack Beaton, Steve Berger, Candice Bowers, Denise Salmon Burditus, Sandra Casey, Andrea Castilla, Denise Cohen, Austin Davis, Virginia Day Jr, Christiana Duarte, Stacee Etcheber, Brian Fraser, Keri Galvan,  Dana Gardner, Angela Gomez, Rocio Guillen Rocha, Charleston Hartfield,  Chris Hazencomb, Jennifer Irvine, Nicol Kimura, Jessica Klymchuk, Carly Kreibaum, Rhonda LeRocque, Victor Link, Jordan McIldoon, Kelsey Meadows, Calla Medig, James ‘Sonny’ Melton, Pati Mestas, Austin Meyer, Adrian Murfitt, Rachael Parker, Jennifer Parks, Carrie Parsons, Lisa Patterson,  John Phippen, Melissa Ramirez, Jordyn Rivera, Quinton Robbins, Cameron Robinson, Lisa Romero Muniz, Christopher Roybal, Brett Schwanbeck, Bailey Schweitzer, Laura Shipp, Erick Silva, Susan Smith, Tara Roe Smith, Brennan Stewart, Derrick ‘Bo’ Taylor, Neysa Tonks, Michelle Vo, Kurt Von Tillow, Bill Wolfe Jr.

and NOW I’ve run out of lines and time to read off all 2,977 people who died in 9-11
Isn’t that a tragedy?

I remember patty cake
I remember peak-a-boo
I remember all the things
You and I, we used to do
It doesn't seem that long ago
How far back it's hard to know

Oh baby, I wish you could see
What your love it really means to me
You may leave the nest and travel far
But your never going to leave my heart

The questions that you used to ask
Scratching them from off the wall
The answers that I seemed to have
To far gone to count them all
It doesn't seem so long ago
When you and I were in the know

Oh baby, can you tell me how
Your ever going to listen to me now
There's another man roaming in your life
Your no longer in your daddy's eyes

You held my hand, that was your world
The words I heard were "Daddy's Girl"
All that we did is now hindsight
Cause children grow up over night
It doesn't seem so long ago
With all the things that we now know

Oh baby, can you tell me when
Your going to need me at the plate again
When life steps up and throws a curve
*Cause you will always be your "Daddy's Girl"

Your name is Rachael
and I am supposed to sweep you up like a moth
or the baby spiders you think are yours
but they ate their mother, too. Like you will.

You will see yourself in a diagram
the size of dog paws.

You will see yourself on the owl stand:
artificial, do you like it? I am sorry I said no.

You will fracture an oyster
and expect babies to queue out, to call you mom
out of every egg is a memory not your own.

Your name is Rachael but
you are hardly a woman, not a person, or a bug.
A moth is more alive than you
because its wings can blister on light-bulbs.

Your name is Rachael
and so you are of artificial skin and thoughts.

So many women at the bar tonight
30-somethings giving me hungry eyes
40-somethings pleading for my attention
and a 23 year old with sky eyes ignoring me
I see her through the mirrors on the back of the bar
and she glances at my reflection ever so briefly
so I buy her a drink hoping she'll feel like
she owes me something or another
and she comes over and tells me
about her relationship with
her father and her mother

Then I drive home and hit a speed bump
that I've never noticed before

the sweetest thing - come over
got some wind to cool it down
i’ll have what you’re having, the sweetest thing.

swayer keep swayin’/lover keep loving’/player you player, don’t keep playin’.

the sweetest thing - come over
got some chill to calm you down
you’ll have what i’m giving, the sweetest thing.

swayer keep swayin’/lover keep lovin’/player you player, stop playin’ me.

the sweetest thing - come over
got some game to wear you down
we’ll get what we’re wantin’, the sweetest thing.

the sweetest thing, keep swain’
the sweetest thing, keep loving’
the sweetest thing, keep playin’, keep playin’

get nothin’

~rachael hays 17A15

I saw your dot painting
In the Art Gallery of the NT.
Dots on the theme of green
Attracted me, drawing me close
To read the curator's note:
"This painting expresses
The sensation of floating
In water and feeling
It's healing force."
Your painting and my poem
On the Lilly pond refer
To this same truth.

I have
Visions of me
When I see you
There’s work to do.

~ Rachael Hays

I hold your pictures in my hand,
as if they were life itself.
Some torn, some bent, some broken glass,
where I swept them off the shelf.

But now that anger it has passed,
and tears they fill my eyes.
I know you never meant to go.
I too am dead, inside.

Why could we not have had more time,
together you and I?
Before your sickness came along,
and took you from my side.

You fought so hard to stay with me,
and smiled through the pain.
So beautiful and brave you were,
sunshine amongst the rain.

Always I will remember,
and treasure what we had.
The mem'ry of our time together,
makes me happy, makes me glad.

I wish that I could follow you,
but here for now must stay.
To tell our baby of her mom,
and why she went away.

And tears come now not just to me,
as Rachael starts to cry.
I will kiss and hold her close for you,
goodbye my love, goodbye.

What are you supposed to do when everything that used to bring you pleasure fades? Has been fading....for a long long time. It's not like you can do just more and harder drugs. Going back and trying to make things okay with old flames isn't an option either, they've just mastered the art of moving on, while you clearly haven't. And it's one thing to have not been able to move on, but another to wake up and realize that the people you love are standing around on tiptoe, waiting for you to lose your mind.

This isn't for them though, this expose isn't for my loved ones. This is for me.

It's 10:54 PM on Friday the 18th, and I am only responsible for my own actions. That's it, that's the beginning and the ending of everything I have ever written, or thrown up, or cried, or whispered into a lover's ear.

My name is Jon Daniel Shierling, and my Father was a Navy boy. He did the best he could with what he had, and he loved my Mother deeper than he knew how to express. My Mother was a Virginia girl, the blacksheep of her family, the hippie girl just a few years too late, but she had a vision and a hope. This scene I'm giving you is probably very far from the truth, but it's what i remember and what I've been able to piece together. For better or worse, their story is one that has followed me since I pieced it together. Not that it really matters anymore.

I'm just your run-of-the-mill garden-variety baser(as my brother calls them), but I used to do good, I used to try. I gave all I had in pursuit of something. I joined the Army in the hope of making a difference. Turns out I was just the same nobody I always knew I would be. Lemme tell you somethin about hookers boy, all of em are lookin for the one, and you ain't it. They've all got the face of your long lost love that you couldn't be there for.

There's no such thing as the one, and the girls that you've met dying for something more, it's not your job to give it to them. You'll never be able to give them what they need, and it's not your fault.

You knew this, way back when at Flagler when you were still a boy in cowboy boots getting chucked out of beach parties after trying to steal a bottle o ***. What a ******* scare when you saw Kiki up in St. Augustine a few months ago, as if that was a good enough reason.
Get mad if that makes you feel better, but you know it won't be the truth. You're the same old soul today as you were driving down Hwy 98 with the wind in your hair in the old green Taurus. You had people you loved with you, and it ended. That idea ended. Just because it hurt doesn't make it okay for you to stop being a caring person.

I digress, I stopped believing. I stopped believing the day that I understood that I couldn't love a girl enough to take away the terrible things her father did to her. I couldn't **** that man and make it better. And she's not the only one who loved me. I attract girls looking for hope that I don't have to give. I loved Rachael too, but there was nothing I could do to take back what her brother did.

Maybe my real failing, my real **** up, was not recognizing a good thing when she came my way. Maybe that's why I couldn't understand something so simple. God Amanda was, is, beautiful.....she was all I was looking for. And yet......I never slept well in bed with her.

Yes I have hurt people, hurt people that loved me without my understanding. This I thing, this I word, I'm not sure that abandoning will get me to where I should be. We'll see what happens. We'll see where I end up.

Growing up as a guy I have something to admit
Its that theres so many girls that i'll never forget
So i'll jump right in and go right from the start
and tell you about all these girls that have affected my heart
So lets start with the As there is two that first come to mind
and thats Ambrea and Ashley, their each one of a kind
Now those are my sisters so their first to be said
but lets continue on to who else pops in my head
lets see...there's 2 Ashley As, but only one Ashley G
can't forget Amanda K, or all 7 Amys
There are so many As that we'd have to stay way long
let me wrap it up quick with the cutest one "akon"
You should see all these B's their so pretty it scares me
theres Beth and theres B thou, theres Bee and  B. Barry
In the C's we have Crepeele with her pretty long blonde hur
and then we have Cameo, thats right, Mama Burr
On to the Ds they would never be meana
theres danielle carey, and then there is dreena
though im sure there are Es-Hs to do
i'm skipping to Js starting with J. Gubbes
Janelle, Jolene, or Jocelyn B.
Jordan, and Jen, and Jill L. you see
Jamie, and jasmine, or J. Allen
Jaylene, and Jessica, and then jen again
Oh God now the Ks, not sure where to begin...
I'll start with the departed R.I.P. Kristin
On to the girls that are more than alive,
Lets take, Keilyn, Kayla, and Karmen on a test drive
Three other K's must get named out for sure
And that's Kaley, Kansas, and Kristjana Schure
Two Girls in the Ls that are way way to awesome
And thats Lauren Borsheim, and of course, Laura Klassen
On to the Ms there is no time to spare
Just one, Maryke, and she cuts my hair
...I'm just kidding MOM you know your up there!
We do have an N there's nothing to fear
Her name is Niki, she lives in Red Deer
No Os, or Ps, or Qs to discuss
we'll move on to R's cause this next ones a must
Rachael K the Australian Wonder
Rebecca's art is so good she draws lightning and thunder
Theres a couple of shellys, and Sam 1 and 2
Tara looks like a model, and Tia does too
Don't know any Us, the Vs go in order
Vanessa M, V. Young, and VJ the reporter
If your name wasn't mentioned no need to be sour
this poem was rushed, took me less than an hour

don’t mistake

my benevolence

for admiration,

I’m addicted to feeding your ego {I think I love you}.

~rachael hays 19J15

This is me, Rachael.
I would die from a papercut and blame it on the finger.
I would argue with an eraser if the words didn't look right.
I would tell the moon to shine all day just to ******* the sun.
I see colours in my imagination; my dreams are wild and beyond comparison.
I tend to love too hard and quickly get burnt by the one I flew so high for.
I read too much and believe in past lives.
I forgive but don't forget.
My trust is willing but protects my heart like a guardian of fate.
I will be silent when someone talks ****, because I don't take fools gladly, and a wise man never responds to defecation of verbal ignorance.
I willingly argue my point in my head til you know I have analysed my response.
Nothing is taken lightly.
I would argue that the road is really hard and quite weary, and curse my boots as they hit the hallowed ground.
I am impetuous, I rush in, I seek thrill and danger.
Hedonism is my game; I play deftly with an air of mastery.
I am sensitive. As skin is to the weather. A gust of harsh wind could ******* away.
This is me; only a slight composition of who I am, and what I am made of.
And I make no apology.

Right here,
Right now,
With you.

There's nowhere else,
I'd rather be.

Valentines day,
out for my birthday
a few close friends,
a bag of dizz.
A plastic pig,
and a quiet conversation in the bathroom
with Rachael.
"Clara thinks I should see someone"
"I think you should too."

"But why?"
I didn't feel bad,
I swear to god I was happy.

I know now I wasn't,
filling myself with drugs
as fast as my blood stream
could run.

"What's up with you Molly?"
Even Dominic was worried
I was just floating on MDMA.
What's up with you, Molly?

He told me he could love me during rag week
and my god I thought it might cure me.
They found me
crying on the steps of the third floor
of Rachael's block
and no one ever found out why.

Not everyone made it out alive.
Oisin lifted me over walls
and Dominic caught me on the other side
and I suppose you could say that in many ways
they were lifting me through.

But think,
when I was in bed with him, stroking his back in little rings
and kissing him. Falling all over again,
so in love with him, some boy
who I'd never met
before that night
left that hotel room
and wound up dead in the Oranmore lake.

But how could you ever talk about that?

Love.  Some say that it is the sole reason to be alive.  Some say that love makes waking up in the morning just a little easier.  However, I find that hard to believe, nothing can make this torture any better.  I rolled to the edge of my bed and flopped onto the ground.  Hi, my name is Jack, Jack Jefferson.  You may be asking yourself, why is this guy such a ******?  Well first of all, this isn’t the nineteen hundreds, what’s with “******”?  Secondly, I am not being a ******, I just don’t see a point in going after something that never lasts and only leaves a nasty **** filled scar.
My life is pretty average I would say.  I was born in the most suburban place on the planet, no siblings and parents are divorced.  I’m not athletic or exceptionally smart.  I’m not artistic or deep in any way.  To top that long list of amazing attributes, I am viewed as weird and not normal because I don’t see all the fuss is about love.
I crawled to my bathroom and propped myself up on the shower door.  I disrobed and turned on the water.  I turned it to the hottest temperature at let the steaming water pierce my skin.  I stayed under the warm comfort of the water until I couldn’t remember what my skin looked like when it wasn’t wrinkled.  I got dressed and decided that I don’t need my breakfast.  I walked outside my one story house that was falling apart in every way imaginable, the paint was pealing, the driveway desperately needed to be repaved, and my mailbox was lying on the ground, it has been knocked over so many times that there would have to be a miracle for it to stand back up.  I just caught my bus and I was on to the prison for teenagers, John Tyler High School.
I went to my first few classes and just got bored so I hung out by my locker.  I sat at the base of the locker and plugged into my phone to listen to my music.  I probably would have stayed in my dazed state until some girl kicked my foot.  I looked up at her, figured that she would go away and then I continued to listen to my music.  She was being a pain though; she kicked me again and motioned for me to take off my headphones.  I sighed as I complied and she just stared at me.
“Can I help you?” I asked her trying to get her to understand that I wasn’t in the mood to talk.
“Yeah, you are kind of in front of my locker,” she answered as she pointed to the locker behind me.  I looked up and examined it.
“This isn’t your locker,” I informed her.
“I think it is, one twenty-six,” she said showing me a slip of paper with her locker information.
“Listen you must be new here, this isn’t your locker, it isn’t anyone’s locker, this busted up thing won’t even lock,” I told her trying to get back to my music.
“Well, yeah, I am new here, I’m Rachael Robinson,” she stretched out her hand as if she wanted a handshake, what are we, forty?  I grabbed her hand and shook it reluctantly.  “So what’s your name?” she asked in that kind of tone that implies that I forgot something.  I hate that, maybe I don’t want you to know my name!
“Jack,” I said trying to give her as little information about myself as possible.
“Jack what?” she now made her way next to me and sat next to me.  I felt incredible uncomfortable with her so close so I got up as fast as I could.
“listen, one twenty-six, your nice in all but I don’t wanna talk, here I’ll let you go to your locker and then we can both be on our way,” I said fed up with the fact that she wasn’t getting any of my hints.  She looked at with me with what looked like disappointment as she slid up and put her combination into the locker.  I put back on my headphones and began to try to forget all about her.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her organize her books in specific ways.  She then tried shutting the door.  It ended up bouncing right open and she looked to me for help.  I just shut my eyes and hoped that she got the hint.  Judging by the fact that she shut the locker as much as she could and walked away without a word.  My mind started going and I instantly felt guilty, I she was new here and she probably just wanted a friend.  I turned up my music and told myself that she was better off not being associated with me.
The rest of the day went by slow and the thought of that girl was still in my head, especially the fact that I couldn’t remember her name.  I decided to just file that as something strange in my head that makes me not forget certain people, like the old guy with the goatee at Wal-Mart, or the little girl scout outside of my bank, no matter who they are I can’t seem to forget them but one thing always stays the same, I never see them again for the rest of my life it seems like.
There was one thing I didn’t factor into this, her locker was one twenty-six, and mine is one twenty-three, so I’ll probably be forced to see her every day for at least the rest of the school year.  Well does it really matter, I mean she must have gotten the message by now.
The next day I didn’t even bother going to any of my classes, I just wondered the halls making sure to avoid any teachers.  When the bell rang for lunch I went to my locker to see if I could scrape up enough money for lunch.  When I reached the hallway that my locker was in, I peered around the corner and I saw someone sitting at my locker.  It took me a couple seconds but I soon realized that it was that girl!
“You know I can see you, right?”  She said before I was able to turn around, walk away, and forget about lunch.
I decided that it was no use hiding anymore so I slowly started walking to her, “Um, listen, don’t take this the wrong way, but can you stop stalking me?”  I asked her trying to be as polite as I can.
“I’m not stalking you, idiot.  I’m eating my lunch at my locker,” she exclaimed.
“Why?” I asked, “You do know that there is a lunch room, with real seats and even a table, I know its new, not a lot of schools have them but I guess we are pretty lucky.”
“Ha ha,” she said sarcastically, “I know about the lunch room, I… I just prefer eating alone.”
“Okay, can I get to my locker?” I asked trying to subtlety motion for her to slide over.  She slid her stuff over and both of us avoided eye contact.  The time it took me to open my locker and push around some books were the longest fifteen seconds of my life.  The worst part is, I didn’t even get any money.  I awkwardly walked away and I didn’t look back.  I felt bad that she was eating alone, don’t get me wrong, but think about it, if I sat with her what kind of message would that send?  I am trying to separate myself from her, not become best friends.
The day went on until my least favorite time of all, time to go home.  Any chance I get I will leave school but even school is better than my home.  I took the bus home, hoping that each speed bump was the bus breaking down.  The bus ended up at my stop in one piece and I reluctantly stepped off.  I checked my mailbox before going into my house.  The mailman is nice enough to still put the mail in the mailbox even though it is on the ground.  I’ve learned to ignore all of the late notices and only focus on the final notice ones.  Turns out they all were final notices this time around so that’s something to look forward to.  I walked inside and plopped on my couch.  I live with my mother for two main reasons.  The first is because of my father’s anger issues is something I just can’t handle anymore.  The second is because I have no idea where he actually is.  After my parents split he left the house, the town, the state, and possibly even the country.  I knew I had the house to myself because it was a weekday, and on those days, my mother works her two part time jobs.  On the weekend she tries to pick up any more shifts that she can.  I’m probably just gonna drop out of school so I can help Mom with the money.  I mean what kind of son I would be if I let my mother literally work herself to death.  She thinks I can’t see it by it is clear what the lack of sleep and the endless stress is doing to her.
I popped some left over pizza into the microwave, sat on my couch, and waited for them to hear that ding.  While I was sitting, I started fighting to stay awake.  Eventually I couldn’t take it anymore and I gave in.  It was one of the worst dreams I’ve had in my entire life.  It started with me riding my bike to the elementary school to see if I can find some lost tennis ***** to try to sell.  Once I got there, it was eerily quiet.  I set down my bike and began to get to work.  As I was walking to the tennis court, something in the distance caught my eye.  I ended up walking passed the court’s entrance because my curiosity got the best of me.  As I was investigating the shimmer of light in the distance, my surroundings began to change.  I was no longer at the elementary school; I was now walking down the hall towards my locker.  I knew where this was leading but for some reason I couldn’t stop moving towards my locker.  Sure enough, she was there, but she was waiting for me, like me seeing her isn’t a coincidence.  She didn’t speak, all she did is smile at me and her body started swaying.  I felt myself start smiling too, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t force myself to stop.  This was no longer my dream.  I was watching two people see each other and I wasn’t either one of them.  My pizza being done awaked me.  I know that that doesn’t mean what I think I know what it means, ya know?  I do not like that girl in any way.  One Twenty-Six can jump off of aa bridge for all I care.  I ended up just throwing out the pizza because I lost my appetite and I just went to bed for the night.  While I was lying in bed I tried desperately to not fall asleep.  One nightmare was enough for one night.
I ending up losing the fight against sleep once again and I was out like a light.  Luckily I didn’t dream that time so when I woke up I was actually a little happy.  I went to school immediately saw her at her locker.  She had a set of tools on the ground next to her and she was doing something to her locker.  I tried walking passed her and to not make any eye contact and I guess it- was a little too obvious that I was trying to ignore her because she immediately stopped what she was doing.
“Look, I know you don’t like me, I don’t know what I did but I know that you for some reason hate me.  So please let’s just accept it because you are making this very uncomfortable,” she said waving a hammer at me.  I was blown away.  This girl is accusing me of making in ‘uncomfortable.’
“I’m the one who’s doing it? Ha, that’s funny.  You’re the one who keeps trying to talk to me when I clearly want to be alone,” I retaliated.
“I talk to you because I know firsthand, sometimes you want to be alone but you hate to be lonely,” She said now dropping the hammer and walking towards me.
“You think you know me, don’t you?” I asked now putting my finger on her chest, “You have no idea who I am or anything about me, so get that through your thick skull One Twenty-Six,” I said with a push.
“And I bet you think you know me, you think I’m some girl who just picks up some piece of trash and tries to become friends with it and make its life better,” she said putting her hand to her chest.  I would never admit it but she was right, I thought she was going to make me her little project.  It was clear that I was losing this fight and so I had to turn the tables to let me win and quick.
“That’s the thing, I don’t know you, and I don’t want to know you.  How would that benefit me to know some new girl?” I said off the cuff.  I felt proud of myself for thinking on my feet but then I noticed what my words had done.  I could see tears forming in her eyes but it was clear that she was using all of her strength to hold them back.  My mind immediately went to the idea that this was part of her plan, to make me feel bad so she could get the rewards of winning.  I stared at her blankly until she turned around without a word and just picked up her hammer again.
“So, uh, what are you doing?” I asked and I immediately regretted the words I chose, I was never good at small talk.
“Trying to fix my locker, you were right, it doesn’t lock,” she had the voice of someone who was about to break down crying.  That just breaks my heart, and on top of that I knew that it was my fault.
“Can’t you, like, call the school or something and ask them to fix it?” I asked putting my hands in my pocket and putting my head down.
I could tell that she already started to put our little conversation behind us, “I already did, and there is not enough money in the budget, so they said that until they get afford s replacement I would have to deal with the problem, so I’m dealing with it.”
“Well do you need a hand, like have you ever done something like this before?” I asked hoping that if I help it’ll excuse me from the guilt.
“Not from you, and no, I have not, but what else am I supposed to do?” she asked.  I feel like even though she asked in a sarcastic tone she was still wanting my help.  I started racking my head for something I could say that would help and then I got an awful idea.
“Hey, uh… since our lockers are so close together, it probably won’t affect you to much if we shared mine, I mean we can share my locker if that’s a solution your…okay with,” my voice trailed off in the end because I really wanted her to say no and I could be in the clear because I made an effort, but I wasn’t going to fight her to do this.
“Sure,” she said, I couldn’t believe how fast she answered.  Was she planning for me to ask, then again she probably was trying to think of all of her choices.  But who does that, I mean I’m not saying she was, but I would have thought that she didn’t want to sound desperate.
“Okay, umm when did you want to move your stuff?” I asked a little taken back of this entire evening.
“Well I got a lot of stuff, why don’t you give me your combo, cause I can do it while you’re in class,” she answered.
“C’mon, you know I don’t go to class,” I reminded her.
“Well why don’t you?” she asked as I took out a piece of paper and wrote down my locker combination.
“Well let’s just say that once I turn sixteen in a couple months, you can have that locker for yourself,” I told her, making sure I avoided eye contact.  You know how that subject is with some people, they take it so personally like you’re making them drop out too.
“You do know that you have to get parent consent at sixteen, it’s not until you are eighteen that you are able to leave without anyone’s permission,” she informed me, as if I hadn’t already looked into it.
“It’s called forging my Mom’s signature,” I told her.
“Wouldn’t your parents make you go?” she asked, so innocently I couldn’t be mad at her ignorance.
“First off, you mean parent, my father skipped town before I could remember.  And secondly, my Mom needs my help, once I leave I can get a job and we will be able to pay the bills,” I explained.
“Okay,” she said.  That’s all she said.  Why would that be all she said? ‘Okay,’ really?  That’s all you have to say.  I’ve been lectured day in and day out on how I’m not running my life, but all she says is ‘Okay.’
“Is that it?” I asked in disbelief.
“Yeah, what else would there be?” she a

There comes a day when the soldiers sway
Back shore to the ***** they married last May
But G.I. Joe never loved no ***
Caught ****** from a ****** down in México
Times are dead when the law gets tough
Like Rachael Ray I like it rough
Kickin my can goodbye life-span
Spend a dime every time I **** up the plan
Toss your blood soaked badge of fear
That you earned at the turn of your life last year
No soul in the hole ever gave two *****
About a washed up Queen and her billowing ****
Long legs shaved at a soldier's grave
Jane never leaves the tomb of her husband Dave
She just couldn't wait till next shore leave
Got caught pants down with his best friend Steve

chemical romance without any bars,
tub full of hot water,
water glass filled with wine
would I love you If I had you all the time?

I think I’ll wait

LA rituals come easy
once we discovered our time zone
a rolley between my fingers
a whisker on my tongue

your ram
has my eagle flying
you set me ablaze
and the Phoenix rises from our ashes

East - west - East - west

~Rachael Hays, 15A15

mating behavior
pushes the limits
forgets boundaries

tall
dark
eyes like a canyon
pulling you into them

hands
length
soothing sounds
vibrations

mating rituals
dances with wolves
edge of the feather
periscope vision

~ rachael hays 9O15

(In English, we were supposed to write a poem based off of George Ella Lyon's poem "Where I'm From" and this is the one I wrote)

I am from picture frames,
from Dove and Suave.
I am from the white house on the corner of the street
(far enough from the train tracks, close enough to the park).
I am from lilacs,
from the rose bush on the side of the house,
always humming with bees.

I am from crocheting and complaining,
from Edith, Rachael, and Susanne.
I am from blind eyes with a blue glow,
from "Speak up!" and "Sit up straight."
I am from "Now I lay me down to sleep..."
and old, golden cross necklaces.

I am from Ohio,
turkey, and sweet tea.
From the night my grandparents ran away togethers,
and the glass wedged into my father's finger,
the day god lifted him from the driver's seat.

I'm from the upstairs closet,
sitting beside childhood memorabilia.
Images of faces I never met,
and those I'll never forget.
Bags of animals,
stuffed with imaginary souls,
and boxes of books
which tales will never grow old.

Invite me baby…

Everyone knows 

How you guard your heart

Protecting yourself

From an invisible arch

I need an invitation

Make us a reservation

For our mystic invocation

I see your game

I’ve floated your sea; but

You can’t play a player

That’s the rule for you and me.

That fools paradise
is hell honestly

Yes, eventually you will know
that Guarding too long 

Is a sad and lonely song

I need an invitation

Make us a reservation

For our mystic invocation

I’ve been around for centuries

Waiting for you, 

Clearing the residue 

Making us a room with a view

You see I know

How you guard your heart (cuz I do it too)
Protecting yourself (myself)
From an invisible arch (been my own enemy)

Invite me baby

Invite me baby

Invite me baby
~ Rachael Hays 29S15

I met this girl at the bus top across from ironhouse condiminums on west broadstreet, and we started talking and I took the wrong bus just to talk to her. I didn’t even have the right amount of change to give to the bus driver. I needed $1.50 and I was thirty-five cents short. So I walked up the asile and asked the cute girl with raybands and lavish brunette hair if she had some change. She smiled and gave me a quarter and a dime. Excellent, I’m in. After I gave the bus driver the bus fair, I leaned back in a chair and I talked to her about literature, writing, reading, poetry. Her name was Anna and her favorite book happened to be “Catcher and The Rye,” she had stacks of notebooks from grade school until now, and she journaled each day in the morning.

We stopped at Willow Lawn and I said: bye. I recommended to her some novels and I wrote down my email on a ripped out pocket book journal page. I passsed it to her, saw her hand close over the note. And then, as I got off the bus, noticed she crumpled up the note.

Later on, I came across a free sandwich, some bowls, a coors light, and a deep tissue massage (my friend is a massage therapist in training; half black; half white; #winning). So imagine being twisted and getting a deep tissue massage with creamy oil lotion. She had this cushioney tan bed to lay down on and relax.

The two girls Rachel and Rachael sang with perfect pitches these great lyrics. We smoked sticky icky *** from a bowl and a plastic orange ****. I pulled up on the carbueretor and vacummed the mushroom cloud of smoke into my lungs, sending radioactive pleasure into my body. A bowl and stem apparatus. Mouth piece. A water pipe or a **** was smokey jazz brass saxophone. The black gas washed by murky water and condensed icecubes sent me spiraling down.

So, I ended up riding on the GRTC bus, smacked sauce, and I wrote all these great ideas, and weird *** descriptions of the bus interior. Went home, changed clothes, swag black VCU shades with neon yellow sides, and a fresh Kanye West Bear shirt with Japanese eyes and shutter sunglasses. I walked down Shafer street and came up to the compass and Hibbs hall. Outside there was a crowd of people freestyle battling, and I enterered the contest. I became a compeitior and I was the challenger, there was no champion yet. I won one round, lost a round, and then went O.T. sudden death overtime. The whole time I was still high, I was carrying around a VCU Cary Street Gym aluminum water bottle with a black insulated sleeve. So I ended up losing, my friend tapped my shoulder and I said whatup and we walked to subway, and I got a foot long Buffalo Chicken sandwich.

We went to his friend’s townhouse on Main and North Harrison Street. I drank a cup of Pineapple and Rasberry Burnetts *****. We went down Cary street, and took a right on Pine Street and then we went to this Delta Chi Fraternity House. There was a kalidescope discoball with rainbow lights. A bar serving jungle juice from an orange gatorade water cooler. I silded my way into the dance floor and turned around and say this girl who I knew. She was someone I taught tennis to when I was an instructor in high school. Needless to say she got extremely attractive. So I was dumbstruck and trying to process all this **** in my mind, and I told her straight up, “Aiight we’re dancing.” And wow. I taught her to stroke the ball well from the tennis lessons. She wore these pink ******* bunny ears and a white dove cardigan and a black halter top, with a dark mini skirt.

Six
Points
Six
Coins
One
Year…
Real

Six
Beats
21
Weeks
Silent
Heat…
Feel

Six
­Months
Six
Wants
Forward
Launch…
Unify

~Rachael Hays 26A15

I’m laughing without breathing, my heart can’t make no sound, I feel myself lie in your arms and your arms held my ground. I’m the only pebble on the beach. The wind skims my skin and wraps around my neck and head. Blowing through my ears, until the sound of the clarity rushes through my lips. Does your heartbeat relinquish your fragility? No, Rachael, because this is not your dream, this is my reality. This beat, this tempo, is a rhythm of accusation, whilst your words defy meaning and lack concentration. You are but a fragment of light. Be still my dear heart, quiet my wandering mind. Be still. Do not flicker or quiver under this light. This sun’s dream is not for your day.

I’m exhausted by the very thought of you. By the burning flame I find smouldering in your eyes. My mind finds no peace. Here. You cause me to ask questions that I cannot answer. The very thought of you exhausts me. Your lack of integrity astounds me, your ingenuity befalls me; your haste quickens my desire. You are but a prism, a facade to bury the light. Your darkness is but a shadow of your former glory, your effort is benign and lacking, there are holes in your story. And when you are alone at your loneliest hours, your drink from the heart of those who live with light in their eyes.

I feel the heat on my fingertips, lost in the moment of a kiss from your lips. And as I lie, I lie, complete in your arms, my lack of worry enhances your charms. I cannot begin to beg to differ with your mind, your words are cruel, your body is kind. Restlessly I drag my hands across your back, making a movie, a different soundtrack. Why can’t some other conviction lie crestfallen at my feet? My belief is astute, my morals are neat. I do not heart you. I am not lost without you. However I feel useless and bound, whilst I watch you run aground, and I see you drowning up on the shore, I realised this is not me, the one I was looking for.

I feel my sides, my ribs ache for your arms. You, you, you I see from the corner of my eye. Counting the moments under your breath, whilst you kiss the back of my head and ask me how I’m doing. I’m fine, I’m fine, I repeat after time; for shall my ribs crack and my hips stretched out for the story, I wish I had nothing more than to feel your glory. To fit in your hand, to be lifted to the wall. I hear her voice it takes the beauty from me; for you just to lie down and take asylum and be free. And this is not your story, no, it never was, it was a reason why, it was your reason because.

And i? I am mindful of what we choose to do. I am mindful that life beats with you. But still, again, but still, I can’t help to recompense, that the size of your heart leaves me feeling immense. Her body is lost to me, my hands useless and found, for I hold your hand, whilst you run aground.

Friday, you said you'd meet me
Saturday,
so I waited in, scrubbed
my bedroom clean. But
the call never came. I fell asleep
on top of the neatly made bed.

The call never came again,
what happened? That you
so suddenly forgot me,
could kiss me on a Friday
and move on in a heartbeat?

A girl told Rachael
I should wait away from you,
you were trouble
and I shouldn't stay with you —
I don't even know why,
you just said it was nothing
and ignored all my questions.

"War" was the word used,
I'd be dragged into fighting.
But I don't care. I've done it enough,
I've taken boys from nice girls
and fought with them all.
Just tell me what happened,
if you're coming back and
I'll throw on my boxing gloves.