I open a book,
And inside I go,
I travel through worlds, I find a new home.
I make new friends, I laugh and I cry,
I fight alongside them, But some I watch die.
I volunteer as Tribute,
Against the Capitol I rebel,
I get accepted into Hogwarts, And I learn a new spell.
I enter the Land of Stories, Then I find the 39 clues. They call me Divergent, But no one else knew.
I run from Grievers
From inside the maze,
I only know my name,
Everything else is a haze. But as I say goodbye To all of my friends, I know the stories
Are coming to an end. But in reality,
I’m neither a wizard,
Divergent, nor have I run in the maze, But I am a reader,
And that’s just the same.
Inside a Book By Aastha Sharma
Two days ago, The water was blue. Light waves against the docks, Matched our surging laughter. Perfectly in tempo with our beating hearts. Yesterday, The water was black. Harsh waves choked the docks, Matched our pleading chords. Our screams split the moon. Today, The water is red. There are no waves to match His still and lifeless heart. No tempo as he stares up at the moon.
The Lake By Kathryn Ferro
The birds are calling And the trees They sway So join, For a moment Come stay Oh, humor me Along this old path Where lovers run Carving names And having fun There’s a fort near Carved by a kid A stump, to be plain But memories remain Do you hear that? The symphony of the forest. Birds, streams and beasts Creating a tune for you Mind the crunch Listen As a girl runs by Searching and searching For fungi Or, Wait! That’s a deer! Oh my god, it’s here! There’s too much to see Worlds in plain sight
But see that sign? That’s right, It’s had its time Stories and fields Songs and retreats Pounded and scorched For another mall For now, it’s free But the songs Will die Crumbled like, There’s infinite supply They don’t care It’s just another forest “So scrap the dew, No one will notice.” Will you? Or will you walk Walk by the trees Not knowing Of what once was For it’s not showing But, if you dare You’ll know its song And notes so sweet That go in a wink
By Christian Ledbetter
There is nothing like falling asleep, Wherever you may be,
The soft sounds of the distant countryside,
The home-settling noises from the sturdy structure,
The hustle and bustle of the city even after the late hours of dark, And wherever you may be,
The night will conjure its mysterious ritual,
Bringing us the dark embrace of the silent slumber, Or the rumble of breathing chests, And as we all fall asleep,
And dream about different things, And the blurry thoughts,
That won’t be remembered in the morning,
But are still the root of the ideas that we are born, In the end we are all the same, As we chase,
The sweet honey of sleep.
Sleep By Celine Yang
Dear Earth, Full of energy, full of life You house us every day and night- free of charge. You provide us with everything that we need And how do we repay you? We destroy you We cut down your trees We pollute your air We do everything in our power to kill you as fast as possible. And worst of all- you’re developing a fever. The situation is dire, and we’re in the eleventh hour. But it’s not too late. There’s still time to end these effects And cure you of this sickness. But as of now, there is nothing you can do It’s up to us. Wish us luck. Sincerely, Your Inhabitants
By Khyree Wade
I don’t understand The wrinkled leaves That mend my dreams With the panic of restoration And the slight pigment of incomprehension. I don’t understand Those wondrous eyes That blink as the presence of wind Encapsulates those pupils, indeed That seek to exist. I don’t understand Why that eye can’t catch a fly, Grasp the leaf, And let it die, To see beyond The mass foretold.
Leaf Grasp By Valeria Colmenarez
We make promises to ourselves that we can never keep. Not because of ignorance or self hatred-There are just some things that can’t be controlled. We can’t control the course of a virus, The actions of others, Or our own need for a future. In summer, I can go swimming. In summer, I can meet my friends. In summer, things will be normal again. I wanted to sew a dress for myself, And wear it to a party In a backyard decorated with fairy lights. Summer twilight, time for the making of memories Dancing and kissing and dreaming, Now only one of those things can happen. Summer is drawing to a close. It passed by so quickly, alone as I was. Time became cheap. I made promises to myself I could not keep, And I will keep promising. Hoping will get me through this. It has to. Necessities of Life By Anonymous
Everyday that passes, When I must stay alone, Feels like a century, Each minute an hour. The city is silent, No cars on the road, People in their homes, Waiting, waiting, waiting. Out on a run, Almost no one around I can hear my breath, The silent steps I take. Six feet apart, But the neighbors still play, Running around, They don’t care anyway.
Shops are closed, Buildings shut down, Everything online, No one is downtown. At night, The whole city is dark, But I peek out my window, At the sleeping town, Stuck in quarantine.
Quarantine By Alice Mayer
National Poetry Month National Poetry Month was started by the Academy of American Poets in 1996 and is celebrated annually in April. Throughout April, libraries and cultural organizations celebrate poetry and the role poets play in the creation of literary works. This National Poetry Month chapbook is a collection of poems written by local students. The poems have been selected from past issues of the Carmel Clay Public Library Teen Zine. Early European chapbooks are often considered predecessors of zines. Chapbooks were small booklets that contained fairy tales, folklore, ghost stories, and other popular subjects. They were hand sewn and typically featured woodcut illustrations. Modern chapbooks are commonly associated with poetry. They could be folded or stitched and contain 40 or fewer pages.