- - Broken - -

Distant place deep down my thoughts,

I’m running away from the nightmares and the dark,

I’m closing the door and moving towards light,

But when I seem to be close to getting it, it comes out of sight;

Let me hold this thought,

Let me be,

Let me forget all that I’ve got,

I just want to be free;

Let me show you I can make it,

I can and I will!

So don’t worry and face it,

Just move on but stay still;

As I go out the door,

I can see your face,

I look at the floor,

As she looks away;

I look into her eyes and I see,

The pain that she tries to hide but doesn’t succeed,

I can see,

But I think I’m wrong this is not what she needs;

Everything seems so dark,

Even in the morning light,

I can see in her eyes the spark,

Please dear I don’t want to fight;

My life is just perfect,

I just need to fly,

It’s perfect,

But I need to see the sky;

Sometimes I just want to get it all over,

I just need, I need,

But I just put my cover,

And as I move out the door I put my cover;

My life feels so wrong,

But its perfect,

I know I belong,

I just need to be selected;

Everything is perfect in my life,

I look over my perfect memories,

So why does she take out the knife?,

The days on where I was home, seem like centuries;

Sometimes I just need,

I want to be part of that other perfect whole person,

But I just forget since I need to feed,

Oh! that perfect whole person I just wish…;

I run from the light,

From everything I have known,

I just don’t want to fight,

I try to hide but somehow I am shown;

I look at my perfect everything,

At my perfect job and car,

Oh! my perfect anything!,

I just wish, I wish that everything is over on that bright star,

And as I see that bright star at night,

I turn on the car,

I follow it, and there is nothing more, no fights,

Oh! beautiful star!;

Oh beautiful perfect star!

I just want to thank u for this perfect life,

And as I push the accelerator of the car,

There are just no more fights;

Let it all be over oh beautiful star!

Let my perfect life be perfect,

Let all perfect things on my life be over, and help me move this car,

I finally will be the one selected;

The car starts to move and fade into the dark,

I feel my life going at a speed level,

Memories pass through my mind, I remember from the start,

Suddenly a sound, oh my angel!

Nothing is what it seems,

Its all now over,

No more needs,

No more covers;

Goodbye perfect life,

Goodbye everything I have ever known, all the years being a salesman,

Goodbye to all the life knives,

Goodbye, goodbye my dear.

Based on the inner struggle of the character of Willy from the novel “Death Of A Salesman” 

Transformation

A soldier’s Journal

Day 1 

I just got the letter, I have been called in. I don’t know what to feel, or how to feel about this. I see my family and friends; they are all full of joy. They are proud. What is there proud to be? Should I be proud? Should I be proud that I am going to die? Should I be proud I am in line to kill others who I don’t even know of?

I don’t know what to make of this. I’m confused. I’m trapped, in something I cannot escape.

Day 9

I am leaving in a week. I have been having nightmares of what that place will be like. Not war exactly, but heaven. I am no fighter. I am a good student I love school. I wanted to go to college and be a doctor. I guess all I am going to be now is dead. I am not going to die. The thought of it makes me want to cry. The past two nights I have woken up screaming and had my mom lay next to me in order to go back to sleep again. I’m 17, I thought I had my whole life ahead of me.

I want to escape, someone help me. I feel like screaming, but no one listens.

Day 15

Today is my last day at home I am leaving tomorrow. My mother has made a huge party with all our neighbors, family, friends, and people I have never seen before. This party is supposed to be for me, but I have nothing to party for. Nothing to celebrate. I am sitting aside being called by everyone they want to congratulate me. They look up to me in a way they never did before. I’ve always wanted to be recognized, but not like this. I’ve always wanted to have a party, but not for the motive of my probable death or for killing someone who I don’t know.

3 am-

I am unable to sleep; I woke up a couple of minutes back screaming again. I had a dream in which I die. I am in the front line in my third month and I am shot by one of my partners by accident. What a stupid way to die. I cried, I don’t want to go. What is all this honor they talk about? Is that what I am supposed to be feeling? Because I don’t feel anything close to honor. A couple of kids called me hero today. I laughed, how could you call someone who kills, a hero? A hero is what I want to be, or at least what I wanted to be. I know I will not survive this, I am no man killer and I am incapable of taking someone’s life away from them.

Day 23

I am here. I don’t want to be here. I have seen people carrying weapons, carrying bombs, and guns like its something normal. I have seen people pointing guns at others as a form of joke. I don’t want to die. I have seen cruelty in these men’s eyes. I have seen emptiness in their souls. They have become robots. They have become cold. They have become machines. They have become inhuman. They are not human anymore, human beings have hearts. Their hearts have been taken out of them, they are inhuman. They are cold. They have become machines.

Day 29

It has been more than a week. It feels like eternity. I was given guns too and now I am being sent to the front line. Tomorrow first thing in the morning. Tonight we are supposed to move closer towards where we think shall be safe. I have made a friend. He is great company. He also wants to be a doctor. We are planning to go and study in the same school after this is all over. We both hate this. We both want to leave. We both feel this is hell on earth.

Day 34

There was a bomb thrown into our base. I saw two people die. Right in front of me, me and my friend are fine. Two people are dead. They died in front of my eyes. I feel responsible. If only I saw this coming. But I couldn’t. I mean, how? I should have been in their place. I cant believe this. This is unfair. Two people are dead. Somehow I feel like I also went with them, like a part of me is being ripped off of me. I don’t want to become a killing machine. I cried. I saw them die and I cried. I am still human.

Day 46

There is not time to write. These days its been very busy. I have been close to dying 3 times. My friend is hurt. His leg was broken in one of the bombings. I don’t want him to die. I should have been there for him. I should have stopped him from going into that zone. I hurt him. It is my fault. I should be killed for it. I have not seen him in a couple of days. I will go and see him tonight, I hope he is alright.

Day 59

My friend died. He died of internal bleeding. I killed a man. Today I became a machine. I felt nothing. I did not cry, I did not feel. I became a machine. Today I became a machine. Today I lost my heart. Today I forgot what being human was. Today I lost my honor, my dignity and my strength. I killed a man. I am a machine.

Day 81

I forgot of what I wanted for myself in the future. All I want is to survive. I want to live. I want nothing for myself anymore. I only want to survive. I killed a lot of people in a shooting today. I felt nothing. No rush, no tears. I am strong. I think I am strong. I know I am. I wonder what will happen. Will I die? All I know is that I am not who I was before. I have changed. I have become a machine. I have killed. I don’t feel. I have changed. I am mad. I am a machine. I am a soldier. 

In memory of a friend.

Indulgence

Gazing into a log fire,

He felt a strong desire,

To go to the church and wipe the entire vile,

Nwoye was not worth fighting for.

He cried his heart, 

Why should he be cursed with such a son? 

Nwoye abandoned their ancestors,

He felt a cold shudder.

He was not his son, he couldn’t be,

His wife had played him false,

But Nwoye resembled his father,

He pushed the thought out of his mind,

He sighed deeply.

Found poem, based on pages 152-153 from the novel "Things Fall Apart". Shows the inner struggle the character of Okonkwo undergoes.

The carriers of the future

They carried books and pencils. They carried laptops, USB, cell phones, blank pages,

the right amount of money, the newspaper, textbooks, and much more. They carried

water bottles. Sarah Drury carried a pink covered Jane Austen book, a pink laptop and

a pink ipod full of backstreet boys songs. Karoll Mendez carried a cell phone, a

million tardiness notes and letters from a long distance relationship. Dina Salem

carried a canvas, an agenda, a sketchbook and a bag full of paint of all different

colors. Some things they carried in common. Taking turns, they carried this book bag

which weighed at least 30 pounds around. They shared the weight of stress and

pressure of time. They took up all the pressure of all the work, all the stress involved

with time management. Often, they carried the weakest. They carried at least 6

binders. They carried nights at the cinema, days of girlfriend talks, sleepovers, card

games, some board games, pictures of things that they had forgotten had happened. 

They carried subjects, among them math and English. They carried memories and

thoughts and time and family issues and homework and so much more. They carried

life – the world, the situations, the present – millions of pictures who just showed how

these lives were lived. They carried dreams. The whole world, they carried it, the new

ideas, the change, the future, all of it, they carried the universe. By daylight they took

classes, at night they were different, but it was not the intense routines or the crazy

schedules to follow, it was the endless learning going on, the purpose. They went on

for the sake of following along. They carried their own future in their hands.

Based on the style of writing of author O'Brien used in his novel "The Things They Carried". 

Eternal Essence

You can put your deepest secrets in it,

Its whiteness just makes you trust that it won’t tell anyone,

Its rectangular but you may find it in other shapes.

It does nothing to attract you,

So simple and functional.

Transmits our personality at times,

When we sit to think of poems like this,

It is light, no need for other than two fingers to hold it,

But it can carry worlds, people, and so many stories.

It can carry your essence throughout time, it keeps you alive.

My best friend is the best!

I love how you know me better than anyone.

I love how we can talk about anything.

I love how you trust me so much.

I love when we talk everyday.

I love when you can tell when something is wrong even without me saying anything.

I love how you try and annoy me, but you end up making me smile.

I love when you get pissed cuz I didn’t get pissed and its even funnier.

I love how you know who I am when most people who have known me longer have no idea.

I love how funny you get when you drink benadryl.

I love how I can read exactly what you are thinking.

I love how you think you can read mine.

I love how you love me for who I am.

But more than anything, I love how you chose me to be your best friend. 

Thanks for always being there despite the distance and the time difference, and for simply loving me for exactly who I am :)

Addiction

Don’t go as slow my dear,

Things are supposed to move faster;

Wait, wait, and pass down the beer.

I thought you knew what’s about to come, dear cheer! 

Don’t be scared of disaster,

Don’t go as slow my dear.

Don’t be afraid, get near;

Running away wont make you a master,

Wait, wait, and pass down the beer.

Don’t follow the usual, your peers.

Since it’s ok to move faster,

Don’t go slow my dear.

I finally see you react to the signs,

You are just pure disaster,

Wait, wait and pass down the beer.

You pass by my heart; of it you are master;

Beautiful disaster,

Don’t go slow my dear,

Wait, wait and pass down the beer. 

In memory to a dear friend.