Boxed Poetry: A Journey Issue

January 2020 / Issue 1 / Vol 1

BOXED A JOURNEY

ISSUE

POETRY

TABLE OF CONTENTS

1

My Journey

2

I Believe In: A Sonnet of Daily Life

By Maddie Dean

By Eliana Ward

3

Where Cherry Blossoms Line the Road

By Mariko Gallagher

4

Creed

By Nathan Phuong

From the Editor Happy New Year! The first issue to begin the new decade, the New Year, and new journeys.

I am most excited about sharing poetry with others in a magazine. But I really want to say thanks to the contributors, Maddie Dean, Mariko Gallagher, and Nathan Phuong. I hope to see more of your work soon.

I want to share the story behind my poem, “I Believe In: A Sonnet of Daily Life.” It was entered into a contest with the theme of “I believe.” I chose to write about my deceased brother, Silas. When he was born, a new brother was someone to share memories with and to play outside on the playground at the park.

What I learned was not what I read about in books or watched on television.

Silas had a mitochondrial disorder that made his muscles weak. That meant no puzzles I could help him do. What if, I thought, I had a friend who did puzzles with me or played at the playground? That was when

Appleseed was born. I named my imaginary friend after a festival and a minor baseball league mascot.

My poem reminded me that poetry brings friends together to journey though life’s ups and downs. I hope you enjoy this first issue.

d r a W .

R. W

My Journey I walk into a clean white building I see children all around The room is filled with happy objects But happiness can not be found.

My name is called I walk into a room My mother starts crying Is this my doom?

I’m taken to a tiny bed They tell me to lay down I’m hooked to a machine I’m put into a gown.

This medicine makes me sick I have to take pills I found out I have a disease They say it kills.

I lose all my strength I can barely talk I’m stuck in this bed I wish I could walk.

They say I’m getting worse I’m losing hope I feel even worse How do I cope?

I was taken to a machine They did some test I don’t feel good They say to rest.

My breath is gone My strength is too My life is gone I’ll miss you.

Maddie Dean

I Believe In: A Sonnet of Dail Life changed when my brother Couldn’t be the average sibling, so I imagined it with a friend

We had a restaurant that served brioche in our family room, When we stopped going out for dinner I made sure he ate all of his vegetables, When my brother ate though a feeding tube I gave him hugs and sang softly "Oh, Dunderbeck," When he was afraid of the dark I showed him our nightlight We finished the 100 piece puzzles together, When our own life was missing pieces When we were robbed he left, But later, he stood at my door in his uniform, guarding One day I forgot about him. He was sitting on a dusty shelf of memories long gone, my make believe friend.

y Life

R. W. Ward

Where Cherry Blossoms Line the Road Pink petals fall into her braid drifting like snow, as they are tossed into the air once more, the breeze whistles softly, singing.

I savor the end of the snow and cold: the grass swaying gently in the breeze; a clear blue sky suspended in time where cherry blossoms line the road.

Trees rustled, as the wind picked up and started to blow, pink petals fall like a scene from an old Japanese folktale.

A cascade of sweet-smelling blossoms on our heads.

“No one else is here, the path is ours.”

Rails line the road, colorful apartments line our path, cherry trees farther than the eyes can see; standing like alert soldiers, in full bloom proudly displaying their pink crowns to us.

In the stroller sits my littlest girl, asleep while her sister frolics and dances about.

Heading home to our orange apartment, after lunch in a restaurant downtown-my wife, two daughters and I. The petals spin like gentle tornadoes, as she tells us she wants to stay forever, where cherry blossoms line the road.

We explain what she already knows: how she can’t stay anymore that trees are for all to see, “We can come back tomorrow come on, we’re almost home.

I promise you’ll see them again we can walk back here tomorrow, I promised I’ll take you here.”

She nodded, and we went along where cherry trees line the path The tornado of petals slows and falls apart, a clear blue sky suspended in time-with pink petals falling into her braid like snow as they are tossed into the air once more, where cherry blossoms line the road.

Mariko Gallagher

This was first published in Skipping Stones Magazine, Vol. 31, No. 3.

Website: www.skippingstones.org

Creed I believe in the new age, in the skyline and the smog, in digitization and decay.

Liberty is no match for prejudice is no match for greed is a good name for politics.

It’ll be an interesting time when Silicon Valley has more data on the FBI than vice versa. Free speech is already drafting its obituary.

Litigation is pending, they must choose their words carefully, and they half-believe that they’ve made a mistake.

Nathan Phuong

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