Growing up Poems
Erfzonde
by Teo Luchin
Ik ademde in wat zij nooit zeiden
en noemde het zuurstof.
Schoon. Leeg.
Vrij van wortels
en van groei.
Ik groef me los uit hun dromen
tot mijn handen niets meer vasthielden.
Ik leek op niemand,
En niemand keek terug.
......
Where You Are Planted
by Evie Shockley
He's as high as a georgia pine, my father'd say, half laughing. southern trees
as measure, metaphor. highways lined with kudzu-covered southern trees.
fuchsia, lavender, white, light pink, purple : crape myrtle bouquets burst
open on sturdy branches of skin-smooth bark : my favorite southern trees.
one hundred degrees in the shade : we settle into still pools of humidity, moss-
dark, beneath live oaks. southern heat makes us grateful for southern trees.
the maples in our front yard flew in spring on helicopter wings. in fall, we
......
Don't look under the bed
by Dorothy Eleanor
Every child reaches the age
When their thoughts need no consent.
When hearts twist and writhe,
Simple encounters evoke torment.
Days pass as moments,
Slipping through the tightest of grips;
Youth kisses sweet time goodbye
With soft, selfish lips.
......
Who Am I?
by Ken Ripley
Who am I?
I trod the earth,
My fingers knead the clouds.
I bend my mind into a
Hypotenuse of Pythagoras,
But the proper path to walk is dark
Behind and before
With never a tremor
But a start.
......
Like a Ray of Sunshine
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
Little Susie was everyone's favorite. She usually caused people to smile;
Like bouquets received from yesterday, traveling on mauve, Memory Aisle.
Susie Partridge was loved by all, since she was indeed sugar and spice;
Like honeycomb riches of sweet summer, which all bees deem very nice.
Susie played with fun dolls, pretending they were actual, factual people;
As dusk fools the eye with fun colors, when saffron light has grown feeble.
Frances and Fanny were favorite friends, like favored, shadowless noon;
......
Erfzonde
by Teo Luchin
Ik ademde in wat zij nooit zeiden
en noemde het zuurstof.
Schoon. Leeg.
Vrij van wortels
en van groei.
Ik groef me los uit hun dromen
tot mijn handen niets meer vasthielden.
Ik leek op niemand,
En niemand keek terug.
......
Clean
by Teo Luchin
Wash my hair,
Lavender shampoo, the squeak of cleanliness.
When you’re almost done,
Split my skull wide open.
Let it all spill out,
Cerebral storms unraveling in cold, biting splashes.
Take away all that I couldn’t purge.
Let the water flood the hollows of my head.
I’ll shake myself like a stray.
Flinging drops into my eyes.
......
Shaping an adult
by Azaad M
If I could make my own adults,
I’d shape them gently—
after the foggy warmth of grandmothers' laps
and the way a mother tucks in the corners of a blanket like a promise.
I’d build them with leftover laughter from childhood
pressed into the hollows of their cheeks,
the kind that resurfaces when they laugh with their eyes closed.
I’d stir in a spoonful of Camus—
so they'd look at the sky and feel both lost and held.
......
Brookville Summers
by Kevin Schroeder
The creek was cool beneath the sun,
Its waters sparkled, our laugh begun.
We dove and splashed in endless play,
Wolf Creek kept the heat at bay.
Golden Gate’s diamond called our names,
Where dust flew wild in epic timeless games.
The crack of the bat, the cheers, the grin,
Moments carved deep, where dreams begin.
......
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