Poetry Corner

Middle Life

By Beatrice Pittoco

Sometimes I stand in the middle of life. Watching the people rushing on by.

They move so quickly to and fro, and I wonder where it is, they’re about to go.

I look at the faces, and don’t comprehend. Each one of them has a beginning, and each one has an end.

Each life is unique, yet ordinarily the same. And I try to adjust to this very strange game.

Maybe I am a part of something bigger than me. Like words in a book, in a library.

Each word holds no meaning but together they speak.

And by reading we see, that it isn’t so bleak.

There’s a subtlety to this life, that’s hard to ignore. Love is the answer we refuse to explore.

And all that I want, almost desperately, is for someone to want me indefinitely.

I have lived like the rest, rushing to and fro. In my own head, in my own mind, always on the go.

But truth is, I was running, looking for an escape. Trying to fill the void of emptiness with a different landscape.

But I know now the truth, that is in my heart. I was the happiest when I loved, from the very start.

I was fulfilled when I wasn’t just thinking of me. I was happy to be with someone, living vivaciously.

But sometimes, things just don’t seem to work out. And you are filled with sadness, and so much self doubt.

That you find yourself standing in the middle of life.

Hoping to understand it, all, in due time

Girls Plays

By Maggie Ramos

In an instant I was lost. I thought it would be like a game of girls and then I would laugh at it Like a cute dresser doll I joined Childish proposal, it was what I accepted from you. We play like teenage girls with toys that we shouldn’t have. The same toys that are now absent. We leave out the outside world to enter our world of toys from within We played, with their long, silky hair. We frequently dress and undress them in simple, casual and dress clothes for gallant parties, dressed in nudity. Each change of fabric was a party to choose their precious outfits. Our childhoods were left behind.. The girls grew up, the outfits were packed and we attended different parties. We went from dance to dance on many occasions. We danced and enjoyed to the rhythm that the songs would beat for us.

Many times we danced and enjoyed a new dawn. We were reborn with each sunrise like girls who enjoyed their new rebirth. Girl games, with absent toys. The toys were downloaded from the archives of our imagination. Our girl games were our own invention. We set the rules and the rules were the agreement. Now as a distant memory I run through the memories of those toys that were never really mine.