January 24

Goodbye (Spoken Word)

2 syllables. 7 letters. 1 word.

Goodbye.

I have never been a fan of this word for one reason –

My dad.

My life feels incomplete,

Over, and over again.

For the past 16 years. The feeling will never escape me.

Sleepless nights. Pillows stamped with tear stains. Moody days.

*Pause*

 

Do you know what it’s like to be far apart from the one you love?

Being miles and miles away.

We take everything for granted – we are all guilty of doing this.

I want. I want. I want

You complain about your parents, though they are just a hallway away in your house.

Have you ever thought about just stepping back and seeing the many things you ALREADY have.

I’ve always been told from the very beginning that your parents are the greatest blessing you will ever receive.

Everyday I wake up, feeling a part of me missing.

The father daughter relationship I so wish to have.

But there’s 7000km between us.

An 8-hour time difference between us.

Leaving a premature relationship between us.

*Pause*

 My dad and I have a series of little games we like to play.

Wrestling in the living room.

Betting on how much the groceries will cost.

And of course I always win because I peek a little at the total amount, but my dad lets it slide for he pretends he doesn’t see me.

Holding my hand, and his arm around my shoulder – protecting me from the terrifying world we live in.

*Pause*

I’m told that I am a girl version of my dad. My sense of humour. My looks. My care. My love. My smile. – It’s all him.

Which makes me smile like I have won a million dollars, because if I could ever be half the person my dad is, than I have become the person I’ve always wanted to be.

The way his eyes shine that light brown color, only sending love and care when you look into them.

Reminding me of when I was learning to ride a bike, and I fell, but those shining light brown eyes were right there to take care of me.

He smiles so infectiously, making your worries evaporate into thin air.

Which makes me smile like I have won a million dollars, because if I could ever be half the person my dad is, than I have become the person I’ve always wanted to be.

                                                          *Pause*

Letting go of him, as he goes to meet my mom.

Tears start forming, but I push them back.

I tell myself I won’t cry, clenching the pain back as his figure gets further and further away.

My heart gradually breaking into pieces, with every step further.

He says goodbye one last time, flashing his million-dollar smile, and I whisper out an – ‘I Love You Dad’

*Pause*

January 24

Dear Girls: Spoken Word (Favorite Piece!)

http://www.firstcovers.com/userquotes/68447/a+simple+smile+is+the+best+make+up+any+girl+can+wear.....html

http://www.firstcovers.com/userquotes/68447/a+simple+smile+is+the+best+make+up+any+girl+can+wear…..html

 

Dear Girls:

 

Girls are a whole half of life,
a whole half of life… I… don’t know so well, honestly.

I mean, sure, girls. I can talk to you.
I mean, sure, girls I can laugh with you
I mean, sure, girls I can get mad at you.

Sure, girls, I can fall in love with you,
It doesn’t mean, though… It doesn’t mean I know you.

Girls, why do you go through the pain,
all this makeup, to attempt in vain,
to make yourself beautiful, yet a clone,

Not understanding your beauty is only ever your own.

I understand, what I see outside is great,

But heck boys, can we do else than to hate?

Us, as boys, we abuse you

Force you into cast iron molds,

Hold you there with

The handcuffs of media,

The bindings of gossip,

And the shackles of judgement

 

If you want make up, then be my guest,

But please, listen, and I’ll do my best,

To speak a point having long been ignored

my idea of true beauty, having yet been unexplored.

Look into a mirror,

tell me you’re not pretty.

If you tell me so, I dare you to look harder

Look past the words of others,

shove the words which broke your image long ago,

made your reflection shatter

broke the mirror in your mind because you can’t bear to look at yourself,

because all you’d see was the B____, S___, and W____.

They cut you inside, made you bleed self image,

Made you never want to show your face again.

But you had to.

You had to fight another needless round,

Over and over again,

Always coming back with a new scar

Each time you took a turn in this never-ending circle

You found a new way to twist your self image,

To break yourself inside,

Made you want to punch,

Kick,

Scream out loud

STOP!

 

…And let me tell you,

A simple layer of foundation isn’t going to fix you

 

Mirror, mirror, the only one of who’s image you control,

the one part of you which makes you feel whole,

Shove them, you’ll feel quite warm and cuddly,

Without their words which make you feel ugly.

If you broke the mirror in your mind because you weren’t attractive enough,

Then shove it aside, break through the bluff,

leave the labels behind, get a new mirror

Because you’re only beautiful if you say you are.

 

Don’t let our nasty words get to you,

Guys are horrible, of which you should have a clue.

Take my advice with a grain of salt,

Not every boy displays these faults.

 

We have our moments we wish we could take back,

peer pressure broke us, they made us crack.

If we fight against it, we’re kicked out, disowned.

Forced to live our double-edged misery, all alone

Do, speak, act as you please, it’s your choice,

I speak here today to but give you a voice.

I wish I could reap the rewards of the thoughts I hoard,

But I can only speak frankly to boys, who sit here bored.

BOYS! We’re not understanding, not getting on board,

girls are a whole half of life we’ve never explored.

January 17

Remember How We Forgot

wabi-sabi-word-definition

Remember How We Forgot

Remember how we forgot that looks are not all that is important.

Remember how we forgot that being perfect is only an illusion,

that we don’t need to become objects that are praised by others for us to feel secure and happy.

Remember how we forgot that each one of us is a treasure,

that our worth is not directly proportional to how good we look.

Remember how we forgot that beauty is not just the outer shell protecting us from the world,

but instead it runs through our veins and makes us who we are.

Remember how we forgot that the heart yearns for love and affection,

not just for the way we are all sculptured.

Remember how we forgot that we always get the love we think we deserve,

not the love that moulds our souls into something else.

Remember how we forgot that beauty is not just in us but all around us,

that the moments we take to stare up at the starry night sky make us feel loved and content.

Remember how we forgot that we are all frosty snowflakes,

not two in the world that are the exact same.

Remember how we forgot that we carry our hearts on our sleeves,

not realizing the cruel people of this harsh universe are ready to step on it.

Remember how we forgot that beauty only makes an appearance when we decide to be ourselves,

otherwise it hides away behind the painted mask on our face.

Remember how we forgot to find beauty in the imperfect things,

that imperfection is beautiful.

January 17

Open Heavens (Favorite Piece)

The divine chorus of angelic singing resonates throughout the devout cathedral, Jesus’ clear marble statue watches over his followers, shining in all his glory upon them from high above. People alike, gather to listen to the churches preaching’s like a moth drawn to a flame. Vibrant light from the glass stained mosaic window panes fill the intricate yet exquisite crevices and carvings the cathedral bares. Extravagant paintings mask the solid yet softly colored surface of the Gothic style structure, and create a modest presence of the Renaissance and Baroque elements. Carved limestone Gargoyles with wide spacious mouths and disfigured human-like faces, protrude from the exterior of the cathedral. Although they display an unpleasant image, they do serve a sort of symbolic reasoning, from two differing sides the Gargoyle is viewed as either a said ‘guardian’ of a building that wards off the depths of evil, or a symbol of hell, not that of Satan but merely because of the terrifying effect that radiates from its appearance. Cathedrals are majestic buildings that were meant to inspire admiration and piety to the visitors that enter and was often viewed by many as a representation of heaven due to its captivating beauty.Not only was visual elegance present in your mind, but the oh so lovely sound of the organ rings into your ear and is pleasantly accompanied by the bold aroma of  burning incense, which adds a pleasurable experience to your senses. At night the faint shine of the moon and stars illuminate and compliment the tranquil ambiance of the cathedral, it is somewhat dark and shadowy but the presence of the lord is forever instilled from within. The hushed voices of angels are not audible to that of human ears as they diligently observe and protect their heavenly palace rather than to be put to rest. When the dark hours end, the angels flap away with their hearts full of bliss as the luminous sun rises on a cloudless day, opening the gates to bring a new day.

January 17

It Hurts When You’re Not Smiling

For my spoken word poem, I decided to write about something that I felt was very important to me, which is smiling. But I found that with all the stress and homework that comes with high school, it was really hard to do this. So I decided to write about how smiling is a beautiful gift and we mustn’t forget to do it, as a little reminder to myself; because it hurts when you’re not smiling. 🙂 

~~~

Remember when you were little, like baby little?

How you would always have a smile on your bright shining face.

No matter what you were doing, you were always smiling;

showing your two front teeth.

Oh how excited you were when those teeth fell out.

You just couldn’t wait to put it under your bed

and wake up the next morning,

finding a gold coin instead.

The joy it brought,

feeling a gold coin in the palm of your hands,

it just made you so content.

But day by day,

the older you got,

the more your smile chipped away.

What happened my dear friend?

Did you forget how to smile?

Because it hurts when you’re not smiling.

Oh how you were born with such a gift God could ever give,

and you just throw it away like this.

A smile is a gift we all get

and you must use it to your full extent.

So what made you stop smiling all these years my dear friend?

Was it the monster under your bed,

who put fears into your head?

Or the tiger and the shark rocking the arch?

Oh how it hurts not seeing you smile.

When there’s so much joy the world brings.

The parties and the piñatas.

Don’t you recall such a thing?

Is there stress running through your body?

Or an anxiety attack or two?

I promise all this will be over,

if you just share a smile or two.

It hurts when you’re not smiling.

Don’t you want to smile and live a long life?

Or maybe even save someone’s with the big smile you grew.

Would a chocolate bar help you smile?

Or a dozen bucks or two.

What can I do to make you smile?

Please I’m begging you.

Won’t you start smiling again my dear friend?

Like the days before you grew old.

Isn’t your life missing something you wish you didn’t misplace?

The baby teeth made you smile,

even on those dark stormy nights.

Oh how I wish you didn’t lose the little grin.

Because money cannot replace such a thing.

Wake up from your old misery my dear friend.

Everything will be better,

you don’t have to pretend.

It’s the tough time like these

where a smile can put those days to an end.

Put all your worries behind my friend.

Because the world loves you,

and it hurts when you’re not smiling.

Video:

https://www.dropbox.com/s/hqxcie7vhjjltqf/It%20Hurts%20When%20You%27re%20Not%20Smiling.mp4?dl=0ideo:

Photo Credits:

http://media4.popsugar-assets.com/files/2014/01/02/804/n/24155406/578a1afcd0742d96_tooth-fairy-main.jpg.xxxlarge/i/Tooth-Fairy-Gift-Ideas.jpg

January 16

Ventriloquist

i let You

speak for me.

You make

my mouth move.

But it is not

my words

i say.

It is Your words

i say.

And sometimes—

sometimes they

are very

ugly.

You have made

me so

ugly.

Yet i still seem

to smile.

But it is

not my smile.

It is

Yours.


Image source:

http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9xZYzEMQQ1k/S3ucNm07OgI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/_Qt08_10Hhk/s400/westonart.jpg

January 16

Forced Sleep

You slide my eyelids shut

and braid my lashes tight

into silent, sleek ropes

of prison.

You pour liquid shadows

into the pupils of

my softening eyes,

so it hurts to see the light,

so that sharp glares spin themselves with

pain into the sleep-twisted

caverns of my mind, like

hard, unchewed food as it

slides down throats: scraping and

stinging and striking my

soft flesh.

You play lyrical lullabies on my

harpsichord-key teeth and

whisper to me tuneful fantasies of sleep

soft beds with smooth sheets.

You numb the throb and stab of a

fraying awareness… yet

you also sooth the demons-

who touch and flirt with my

insides until they seep blood.

You make me forget:

suffering does not equal serenity.

Sleep does not equal rest.

You play my heartstrings like

a harp,

you coax my frantic lungs

into slowing their pace.

Your teeth are pens seeping

ink into my bloodstream like a sedative,

You course through me faster

than adrenaline, but

just slower than panic,

seducing me into your

tyrannical embrace.

You hum sweet cradle songs

to the tide of my blood,

you match my breath to the

flutter of eyelids whose

tenants see worlds made

of fantasy gone wrong.night

And when my eyes do close-

you braid my lashes tight

into silent, sleek ropes

of prison darker than night.

 

 This poem is an expression of sleep’s oppressive nature. Perhaps few of us realize it, but sleep has become increasingly forceful in our lives, to the point where many of can barely function because sleep has a sharp hold on our minds. We covet sleep constantly, yet what we are really looking for is rest. Nevertheless, sleep clings to us all day everyday, and slowly seduces us into succumbing to its tyrannical and deceptively soft nature. 

 

 

Citations:

“Sleep Tight.” By Frankief on DeviantArt. Web. 6 Dec. 2015. <http://frankief.deviantart.com/art/Sleep-Tight-324800884>.

“Is Seven Hours A Night The Optimal Amount Of Sleep?” Fast Company. 22 July 2014. Web. 6 Dec. 2015. <http://www.fastcompany.com/3033373/work-smart/is-seven-hours-a-night-the-optimal-amount-of-sleep>.

 

 

January 16

What I Want

I am a glutton

Filled with cold hearted greed,

For the things I lust after;

For the things that I need.

Would you spare me your engine?

Your most crucial part?

To warm up my insides,

I desire a heart.

On top of that, please,

Include just for me:

The warmth of another,

To answer my plea.

And when I grow weary,

From this world’s pain,

Would you spare me a shoulder?

Your loss is my gain.

Though shoulders grow tired,

As does my will.

Share me your embrace,

To stop this lonely chill.

And in your arms,

Perhaps I would find,

Whatever we call safety;

The illusion of the mind.

The most important of all,

And definitely most rare,

Is to split the lost treasure;

Your love, if you dare.

Written by Lucas, on behalf of team Cayleigh, Ziyana, Ryan, Masooma, Rajneet

Category: Lucas, Poems | LEAVE A COMMENT
January 16

Ghost

 

 


 

I want to take you on a journey in which you will feel yourself drown; you will lose yourself, I promise you. Close your eyes slowly, and let your mind be peaceful.

This is a story of a city – an abandoned one where the shattered glass pollutes the streets. Silence drifts through the city, it aids death strangle hope. Where decay welcomes you into its arms, holding you tighter than your love.

There is loneliness in the sky, broken pieces of clouds cover the sky like splattered paint on a black canvas. It is a dark night, the kind of night when the unspeakable happens. If you go on a walk this night, goose bumps will be your best friend, the invisible will follow you, and your skin will tingle. You will want to melt into the darkness.

If you crave for a thrill – this is your night, let your eager character lead you out. The skyscrapers cry as you walk in the deserted streets, freezing air seeps in your olive skin. Something creeps down your neck making you twitch with every step you take. Delicate chain around your neck burns, your shoes step on the moist yet concrete ground. Street lights flicker as you go down deep into devastation.

For a moment you will stop to admire the sky. The sky is different now, clouds have the throne, they’ve ordered rain to soak the vacant streets. It starts light, but gradually, it increases. The droplets fall on your amber hair, slowly soaking your whole body. They roll down your face like melting ice, turning your cheeks rosy. Your body shivers from the cold, you look around trying to find shelter. You finally find an open door which looks like an opened decaying mouth. Your mind stops you, but your body carries you inside.

You try to breathe, but the air warm and thick, oozes inside your nose into the lungs. Ageing concrete surrounds you, takes you into another realm. Eyes widen as you walk in further, a long ago polished floor shows encroaching mud and leaf detritus. A staircase stands alone in the murkiness, you slowly walk towards it. Without thinking you step on the softwood leading up the staircase, unsure of what it might bring. Your hand on your heart, eyes closed, you let the senses guide you.

After hours of climbing up the never-ending stairs, you finally find yourself in front a moldering door. Your hand finds its way on the rusty doorknob trying to open it. As it opens with a jerk, a wild gust of wind catches you off guard hitting so hard, you stumble, but manage to hold yourself up. Sky looks clearer than before, rain gone, but the gloom persists.

Now, you are on the rooftop walking towards the ledge of the building. Eye-balling the surroundings, you feel like you’re trapped in a jungle of steel and glass growing out of a concrete metropolis. On the ledge, you gracefully balance yourself like a ballerina, letting the adrenaline take over, just so you can feel something. Studying the sky, your throat parched, your dead brown eyes search for the moon. Digging in your pocket, you take out a stale cigarette and a lighter. It feels hot when the smoke finds its way into your lungs, then gradually the nicotine rush envelopes you. Hazy pleasant feeling wraps you in its arms, making you sway on the edge. Without thinking you flick the cigarette away, and watch as it falls down. Your arm crosses to touch the other arm; you finally feel something.
You open your mouth to scream, “I’m scared! Help me!!” Silence answers your call.

Bones start to become feeble as your mind races back to where you came from. Vehement emotions charge towards you as your heart tries to break free of the chains. Hands to the sides, you gaze ahead at the forsaken road. Chills dart down your spine, buildings around you abandoned long ago by shattered dreams and promises. Eyes shut, your mind replays what you’ve been missing. Eyes dry, hungry for emotions, but it’s okay.

Ghosts don’t cry.

January 16

To This Day~ Shane Koyczan

Bullies are the kings that rule kingdoms

but drown us puppets in the tears shed

whirling

down deep in the dooms of despair

taking a breathe afraid to protect

holding in the quarrel of hurt

cutting at the dark wimps of deadness

eating our hearts

ambition isn’t our goal

living is a choice we decide to end

all for one who trails along our tail end

ugly, stupid, kill your self

its never ending

shadow masking decisions

the live heartbeat is accountable of feeling grazed and broken

we often follow our monsters into our closest

to suck the purity and replace it with scarcity

in fear of being kept hostage

for a life time

to our masters

wanting to escape with the pills kept at hand

by our bedside

convinced this was the only way out

too late

it’s the end