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Marisa Lu Makil Feb 2015
I am a back-stager.
I fix the lights
I help people with their makeup
No one ever sees me.
I am a back-stager
JPaiva Jan 2012
So let’s take a look at this story and I’ll tell you my theory.
In Another Country by Ernest Hemingway
You know, that dude you might of heard about back in the day.
Now, I’m not here to give you a plot summary
The purpose is to work your minds with an introductory.

Take a moment, and put yourself in the narrator’s shoes
Going to war and unable to refuse
You’re getting defeated, wounded in the knee
and taken to the hospital in a room full of machines.

He was able to make friends during his stay,
Three officers and a soldier with a handkerchief I must say
A kinship formed between him and the three officers,
So changed from the men they once were,
Sticking together was glorious when sharing the same experience
Especially when the outside world taunt and despises you
Saying quotes in their language once you pass through.
“Down with the officers!” that’s what they would chant.
What would you do, or perhaps grant?
A mock could only reveal a fight, but no you mustn’t, you can’t.
You’re trying to cure yourself mentally and physically
For the war has scarred you, and tortured you, literally.
You know there was always going to be war,
but you don’t want to go to it anymore.

Now, let’s move on to that discussion with the major,
formally known as a stager.
He asked one simple question to the narrator
"What will you do when the war is over, if it is over?"
Ha, never thought one would form a debater.
“I will go to the States,” the narrator straights.
Alarming the major that there must be someone he awaits.
“Are you married?” he replied, hoping for an answer he would side.
A reply that didn’t have the major agree
“No, but I hope to be.”
Now, I’m sure this is the part where you think the man has no heart
When he shouts that one’s a fool to want to marry
A man should never lose the one he marries.
But you see, he was speaking for himself
Trying to cope with his lost and tryna' fix the problem the narrator crossed.
The major’s wife has died from pneumonia,
A death that lasted from only a few days of being sick
The major was torn a part not wanted to look at another chick.
Thereafter, each time he returned to the hospital to use the machines,
he would just stare out the window,
rather than pay any attention to his treatments with all means

Now, I’m not one to know how that would feel
To go back to that scene, only a time machine can reveal.
But, one feels for the narrator instantly
when he uses the form of repetition blissfully.
Or when he feels distant from the officers,
like the first time meeting your long lost brothers.
They were presented with medals for acts of bravery
although he received his as an act of vagary.
For instance, playing a video game, noticing you’re just a newbie
While getting cheap achievements in halo or call of duty
He was injured before he could prove his courage
and lectured through the concept of marriage.

But I’m not here to give you the in depth
Let’s bring it over to Ashley, she has the breadth of the knowledge.
That will help you understand the reason for this course at this college.
Marisa Lu Makil Feb 2015
I can't ask God for the pain to cease
To cleanse this grief within
Because for some reason it makes me
Atone for all my sin.

I cry and sob the pain away
Wishing it to be gone
But the one thing I can never do
Is cry and sob to God.

Surely I know He's there for me
I surely know He cares
He listens when I cry out to Him
He answers all my prayers

This surely is a killing pain
That lingers deep within
But there's nothing I can do-it seems-
To slay this awful sin.

I hate the pain that plagues my life
I want it to be gone
Still I know that I must have it
To sing my mournful song.
Andrew McElroy Aug 2012
Sky fall for me
Press out the stealing springs, see?
Push/pull closing doors
The sky is coming down sooner or later
Help me find a way
As far as it goes
They aren’t concerned with me
Anymore

Walk with me now
I’m done with this door, for now.
The milky drops from heaven
Aren’t stopping me
From finding a cause
For this unsteady clause

Behind the walls
Their faces combine and align, and then fall.
To forget about the time
When I was important
Replaced artwork
Stolen face
Ripped from my memory
****…

I guess that’s the price I pay
For trying to find a way… to you
The days will roll on
& I’ll soon be gone

Dead or alive
We will never survive
Dead and gone
The year’s stager on

You’ll fade away
Morning Star Apr 2023
No time freeze the room now bites winter burn
Slice through the jaged knife I capture sight of you
I actually fear a distant dance the wolves , the air its chill.
The  clash of stairs to throw. a break upon the pillow
I hear the call , an eco of
the wolf who comes to me.
Who sits upon the moon lit hill
to set the badger free.
The hare be still a jumping beat creates a different winters cheat , but still the shadows roam my mind
Octobers gone but once again you creep into my life and severe me
Why once a child to slay I grew
now once again you speak no truth to play your evil game
Take what you will the wolf has gone , the moon won't light the way .
Disappear but when the frost of winter chills appear
I see u still and capture in at fear you can now ****
I can't free the deer now it's too late I'm too lost in fear
No time to freeze the room
Break away ice frozen fall
Wind be listening soon
Now the crimson waters start to flow again and I can hardly sleep
Pull me through for I am not now who I used to know
But stager things do haunt my mind and I'm afraid to go
What's the difference?

If any then there's plenty

Of many tears shared

Wear none of the brand labor

All my **** was hand me down

Thundercats drawers brawling in the halls

Four in the afternoon call for a ride home

Having poured from my cup a better potion

Love is a mixture of pain

Fed through a line in my vain

Of in these waken hours

Haveing to make believe in a convenient lie told

It's the old routine of long rides on short bus

Pride is usually just some cheap trinket pull out of pockets and shown

Once had a colorful backpack that had a blue dinosaurs on it with sunglasses

There was no running in the hall

A converted stager closet was my homeroom

The Image stuck in my head of bottles label with crossbones in the corner

The owners of what will become my inherit hurt

It not worth much these days

Said an old Jewish man at the pawn shop

He told me of the fights he once had in his front lawn as a boy

And sold me a toy gun

I talk funny and was thought of as queer

Left here cause I wasn't right

Led to believe that my existing was the product of American greatness

Said that if this was China I would be abraded at the age of twelve

If ever you could be love without never wanting to know pain

They mainstream you

Pick you first for their team

You ask a girl out on a whim

Her words wasn't meant to be kind

You hide behind head nods

Finding excuses not to read out loud

Used the one where there's something in your eye

And in the boys stall you stood till they call upon who ever next

Backwards written text

You're package as special

Lucky if you meet minimum wage of the age eighty

Taught by teachers that we was the product of crack fiends parents

Why even bother with college?

The fatherless ******* of slaves owners

A truth known to whites and blacks alike

Those of who you claim lack your intellect

Tell of none of my hurt

A lone inhabitant of a bitter earth

I bit of it sour fruit

Pour a cup of tea

That was neither hot or cold

I hold it to my lips

It not warmth or comfort I seek

But rather an uninvited truth

All that's known are the inherit lies of a puppet frog

For I am not the owner of sorrow but rather the borrower

Waiting for tomorrow as it only a day away

Who might I be then

A me that's slow but yet still flow from a stream out into a river

For I am the son who's the giver of his mother love

None of your words will be the sum of my faults

The vault that seal such memories that pain

And the healing words of a cartoon turtle

No matter how slow I travel I near ever closer in my journey

— The End —