These I Have Loved:

Freshly clipped fingernails,
Chugging a glass of milk after being in the blazing sun for too long,
Used shoes, just to the point where they squish in more than they're supposed to,
Rain, the thick guys, the ones that plop and splat on impact,
Songs that spark memories and motion pictures in my head,
Moonlight overflowing on the blackness,
The heat that hasn't yet scorched my skin,
Disney movies, no matter how old I am,
Softness, silk, plush,
White puffy clouds, low to the ground as if I could touch them,
Chili wrapped up in a hot dog filled bun,
That after shower smell,
The burning tightness of muscles after raising the bar,
A cold glide through a ripple on too hot of a day,
The little things on a green overgrown road.

JayZ

Rainy Days and Windowpanes

It was a day just like any other day. As the sun broke through the horizon, Amelia groaned to the startling sounds of Michael Jackson blaring from her radio.  6:00, time to get up.  Hugging her pillow, Amelia strained to open her eyes, contemplating hitting the snooze button so she could have 10 more minutes of her dream.  Staring at her ceiling, the last trails of having the power to fly slipped away while a quiet creak of an open door escaped her.  “Meeea?  You wake?”  At the hushed whisper she flipped on her side and grinned at her youngest brother’s scrunched funny face peering over her mound of blankets.

“Come here, you,” she grunted while lifting 3 year old Todd up and over into her warm cocoon of pillows.  “It’s going to wain today, Meeea” he said as she hugged his pajama-clad body close to her.  “Really?” she yawned.  “It looks sunny to me buddy,” Amelia replied as rays of light danced across her wood floor.  She felt her eyes close as his little fingers ran through her long hair. 

Slam.  “AMELIA!”  The shout of her mom ripped Amelia from sleep—sitting up she glanced down to see her little brother waking up.  “OH NO!” She cried, seeing 7:23 on the clock.  “Todd, wake up bud, I’m going to be late!”  Jumping out of bed, she grabbed clothes off her floor, yanking on a clean shirt and hopping into jeans while looking for her shoes.  Todd giggled and followed her down the stairs, where the rest of Amelia’s brothers sat, finishing their breakfast at the table.  “Mom, I’m so sorry…I have to go.” Grabbing toast and a slice of bacon, she kissed her brothers on the head, snatched her backpack, and ran out the door. 

The bus doors hissed shut as Amelia made her way back to the last open seat.  If she was lucky, the driver would get her to the 8^th Avenue stop in 20 minutes today.  She would have to run, but she could make first block on time.  Staring out the window, she glanced at the loving families on the sidewalk brushing shoulders with businessmen in suits on their phones making deals.  As the bus rounded the corner, clouds crossed the sun.  “How does that little stinker do it?  Every time!” she thought, as storm clouds approached the city.

Morning classes were a blur of facts, numbers, and plenty of notes.  In Psychology, Amelia’s seat next to the window proved a distraction as raindrops hit the pane.  She grinned, thinking of her baby brother sitting on the couch staring outside.  After what felt like an eternity, Amelia finally reached her free block, a chance to go to the class of her choosing.  As always, she made her way to Creative Writing. The smell of coffee and paint hit her as soon as she entered the door.  Vibrant color, books, pottery, and glass art encased the room.  Here she truly felt alive!  After waving to her teacher, she made her way towards her work area where her friend Glenn sat at their shared desk.  He was already working on a project centered around the power of the written word—his desk was littered with newscasts, ads, and protest signs.  “Hi Glenn, looks great,” she said as she dropped her book bag on the ground.  After hearing his grunt of thanks, Amelia got to work.  Grabbing a laptop, she opened up her latest project.  Photoshop opened to her waiting masterpiece as Todd’s predicted rain continued to fall.  After grabbing a coffee she got to work on the hue of the wheat fields in her self-portrait.  Her brother would really like this one!

~Ms. O 

Dark in the Light

America since the beginning has been a country founded on pure unadulterated bada**ery.  From the men of Jamestown sailing to America, to the billionaire playboys in modern times, America has had so many bright shining ideals, but behind every shining light, is the dirty coal mine that supplies the electricity.
Every hero in American history has had a dark side. The settlers at Jamestown, warred with the native Americans that already lived in the area. The Revolutionary War heroes, every last one of them was committing treason to their country, and if the revolution were to fail, they all would have been tried and hanged for treason. The men who fought in both world wars witnessed things that no man should ever see. And America's golden boy John Wayne was an extreme racist who believed in white supremacy.
Not downplaying the magnitude of all of these people, but when looking back on history, remember that there is always bad inside the good.


T. A. Zwiebel

the dreams we make

to dream first you must sleep
to find diamonds you must dig deep
hidden in our imagination
our hopes just an exaggeration
distant places we never see
created by you and me
our secret places to hide
deep deep inside
but when we start to wake
thats when we make our mistake
because our dream goes away
leaving tiny sparks of hope to stay

by:TLB

My life

I am from boots,
From Tonka toys and hot wheels
I am from the A-frame, Simply, timeless, a time honored place
I am from the earth, the corn plant whose, sweet and dry.
I'm  from the sets own meal, and endless stories
From Ted and Maxine and pollacks
I'm From corn on the cob and working men
From stand back to stay close
I'm from the Catholic roots and Sunday drives
I'm from an adoption,
From steak and eggs.
From the plow runners
The wrinkled foreheads
And a polka song
I'm from a sanoma pickup and chocolate chip cookies.

Mr. Dodge

Tomorrow Anyway

When I have nothing to do, I love

To lay in my bed and think, about music

Or the plants I want in my yard next spring

I check my email over and over again, hoping

That something new and exciting will be waiting

For me there, while playing games on my iPad.

I loving sitting on the edge of my porch, where I can

watch the cars flying by, or the people happily

walking down the sidewalk.

After awhile, I'll go sit by my flowers, admiring

Their natural beauty, thinking about what I could

Add to my garden for next spring.

I love to listen to music, singing along

or maybe conducting, drifting between those

Grand pandora stations floating from tune to tune.

I'll play the piano, or rearrange my room

Bake a cake, or brownies, or maybe even some cookies

I'll walk through the house day dreaming about beautiful things.

I'll be there in bed tonight, thinking about everything I had done

Then I'll think about what I should have accomplished today,

Never mind that though, I have tomorrow anyway.

AC

Calm Whispers of Silence

Walking through the giant forest
Seeing beautiful growth
Of gorgeous green trees
That have pointed leaves
That sway in the wind
Waving to the near by animals
But I hear no whispers of wind
Nor hear any musical chirps
from the gifted birds up above

Gliding across the old dirt path
I stumble upon a babbling brook
Watching as the calm water
Spills over the rocks
Back into the stream
But I hear no trickling of water

With a sigh
I head back toward camp
To see my children
Having smiles across their face
Shoulders moving up and down
I know they're laughing
But I hear no laugher
I never hear their angelic voices

I walk over to my sleeping husband
Lay my head on his chest
And feel the thumping of his heart
But I hear no musical rhythm
Rising from his inner most being
The sound that calls for me
Yet I can not answer

Sleep comes easy
No chirping crickets
No roaring cars
No howling wolves
Only a complete deadly silence
That will never be able to be broken

I sleep
Through the screaming storm of night
And my blaring alarm
To be awaken by the light of day
And brought back
Into a world
Filled by a continuous hush
Of utter silence and complete nothingness

Bri

Haikus are quite nice
They all go five seven five
They are simple fun

Optimus prime

These I Have Loved

Rain drops scattered in an array on a window,
And silhouettes of trees against the light of the sun;
The fresh peacefulness after a storm on a dark, gloomy day,
And sitting in the company of silence; the musty paper smell of old
Books and the untouched cleanliness of the new; a chorus of male angels
Harmonizing in an acoustically sound room, contradicted by a tart bite of
Grandma's homemade rhubarb pie; the way my heart skips when I hear certain names,
And how one word could bring back so many memories; Polaroid photographs and how a collection of the simplest things could give a room a whole new meaning; the cold side of the pillow and the way I feel after writing a fantastic piece.
These I have loved, over and over.

A.H.

                    These I have loved,

 The feel of butterflies when going down on a roller coaster.

The warm summer sun, while laying out, like a warm blanket out of the dryer. 

The feeling of laying on stage looking upside down at the ceiling of the gym, feeling like I'll fall a million feet.

The excitement of something going to happen, like fireworks in your stomach.

The cuddles of my dog, showing her loyalty to me.

The sound of bass in a car from loud music, like a dance party in a speaker.

The look of freshly colored hair, putting life back into your hair.

The taste of my favorite foods, like a party in my mouth.

The feeling of nervousness before performing, alerting my body that it's time.

KDH

Cadet Life

Grandma reached down and picked up her nursing cap, still as crisp and clean as it was the first year, from her bed.  She observed the two black stripes lining the cuff, thinking back to when she didn't have a single stripe.  That was back when she and Raymond would go dancing at the Omaha ballrooms.  Tonight would be just like old times, only she would savor each moment more than ever.
"Only six more months until we get the third stripe," said a voice from behind her.
Grandma turned around quickly and shoved her cap and uniform behind her.  "Oh. Hi Martha."
"You're taking your midnight leave tonight?"  Martha questioned.
"Yep.  Raymond is back from war,"  Grandma couldn't conceal her joy as she plopped down on the bed.
"Oh I bet you're just dying to see him again!"  
"You have no idea." 
"The war is winding down it seems," Martha pondered.
"Thank goodness!"  Grandma nodded as that was about all she could think to say.  What else was there to say after a tiresome war had claimed the lives of many and the energy of all of the rest
"Do you think the government will honor our nursing certificates if we never go overseas?"  Martha continued to wonder.
"I don't know.  I'll worry about that later."
"I just hope this doesn't all go to waste, or if they make us pay for all of the training."
"I don't know.  Let's not waste our time worrying!"  Grandma shrugged.  Living in a large family on a farm throughout the Great Depression and the war, she had learned to take one issue at a time without fretting about the next.
They sat there for a few moments as the other cadets started pouring into the dormitory.
Martha began to giggle, "Ha, do you know what would be so funny?  When the witch comes to check on us for lights out, I'm gonna stand behind the sink and jump out at her, scare her."
"Ha, I don't know what to say about that.  It'll be hard for me to keep a straight face."
"Remember that time when she yelled at you and you yelled back?  She doesn't dare mess with you know!"  Martha noted.
Grandma primped herself up for her night out while the other girls got ready for bed.  They all watched the hand of the clock tick by.
"Martha!  It's 8:59!"  One girl called out.
Martha hurried over to the sink behind the door.  Everyone quietly anticipated the door opening while pretending to keep themselves busy with other things.  The door creaked open and the witch barged in.
"Girls! Lights...Ahhhhhhhhhh!  Martha!  Get into bed.  I'd slap you silly if I wasn't so nice!" The witch barked at the stunned cadets, her face bubbling red with anger and childish embarrassment.
Everyone sat still as stone on their bed, pasting looks of shock on their face only to cover up the laughter they suppressed.
While Grandma would have found much joy in this any other night, she was so preoccupied she hadn't even paid any attention to Martha.
"McGill, are you taking your midnight leave tonight?"
"Yes ma'am."
Grandma grabbed her midnight leave ticket and handed it over to the witch.
"Be back by midnight!" The witch called out at her, but the noise was a blur.
She was already heading down the hallway, her black heels clicking against the worn wooden floor, echoing throughout the desolate corridor.  She slid out the front door into the cool fall air and began searching the park bench at the street corner.  He had to be there.  He said in the letter he would be there.
As her eyes focused, there was a dark figure sitting at the bench.  It had to be him.  Grandma took off in a dead sprint across the muddy lawn in her heels. 
"Raymond!"

* * *

During the early 1940s, World War II plagued nations across the planet.  In the United States, most of the country's young men were overseas fighting.  There was need for desperate need for nurses, so the government came up with a training program.  With this program, woman could go through a free training for three years.  At the end of the three years, they would be sent to help with the war.  St. Joseph's college in Omaha got its roots from starting up one of these programs.  My grandma attended St. Joseph's.  She was dating her soon-to-be-husband at the time, and would take her midnight leaves to go visit him, excepts for the period of time when he was at war.  The midnight leave was just one of the strict guidelines given by the college.  Cadets were given one midnight leave ticket a month, which gave them permission to stay out until midnight.  On any other night, they were required to be in bed by 9.  My grandma recalls there being one highly intelligent, sociable girl who would have made a wonderful nurse, that stole an extra midnight ticket from the front desk.  She was caught in the act and expelled immediately.  My grandma recalls attending classes, including religious ones, and working in the hospital at the same time.  They wore bleach white uniforms with caps.  For every year in the program, they earned a stripe on their cap. The cadets were given a $15 stipend per month, which was used for clothing, their midnight leave dates, or any other necessities.  Cadets were not allowed to leave on the weekends, but sometimes my grandma would sneak out and catch the train home from the Durham station.

* * *

The witch slammed the door shut.  My grandma held her breath and waited for the witch's footsteps to taper off down the hallway.  She arose out of bed and grabbed her already packed suitcase.  She quickly made her bed and packed up her uniform into her suitcase.  Another girls was one step ahead of her, already slowly cracking open the window to prevent it from creaking.  She and three other cadets tip toed over to the window.  One at a time, they slid out of the window.  My grandma slung her suitcase over her shoulder and climbed slid out under the glass pane.  She fell to the ground and headed in the opposite direction of St. Joseph's campus.  With class and confidence, she walked down the streets of Omaha to the Durham train station.  The large hall was except for the man at the ticket booth and young couple sitting on a leather-coated bench in the far corner.  She crossed the intricate tile floor to the ticket booth and pulled out the last of her monthly stipend.  She pushed the two crumpled dollars across the counter.
"One ticket for the 11:00 train to Madison please.  And a locker."
The man handed her a ticket and her money, "Please, it's on us.  Have a nice trip, ma'am."
My grandma pulled her uniform and folded it up neatly into a locker.  This way, she could throw on her uniform upon returning and walk onto campus as if she never left. 
My grandma walked over to a bench and picked up a newspaper.  She penciled out the missing words of the crossword until a voice cam over the speakers, announcing the arrival of her train.
A few people exited the train, leaving six other riders.  My grandma boarded it herself and took a seat.  The full moon illuminated the harvested fields that zoomed past her.  She watched the fields zoom by until the train approached Madison.  She knew the roar of the train horn would awake her father, as it always did, and he would come to meet her at the station.  Helping her family out on the farm on occasional weekends eased her guilt of being away as as well as her homesickness. If the administration looked the other way, she would take advantage of it.

* * *

The war ended within a few months.  My grandma was able to finish out the program free of cost, and the government offered them certificates.  Fortunately, my grandma was never sent overseas.  She married Raymond and they settled down in Madison.  She continued working as a nurse at the Regional Center, a mental hospital, in Norfolk.

Ha

More Than A Walk

How do you walk?
Because a walk is loud
Because a walk is a label
How do you walk?

Do you walk with a limp
Never to be "normal"
With society's hand on the gavel
How do you walk?

Do you walk with swagger
With a slight dip in your step
And a sway of the shoulder
How do you walk?

Do you walk face down
Eyes glued to the floor
Just hoping never to be noticed
How do you walk?

Do you walk with confidence
With a chin in the air
And a pop off the next foot
How do you walk?

Do you walk like an angel
Light on your feet
A graceful, beautiful glide
How do you walk?

A walk is a category
Stereotyped or not
Your own little section
In the world's melting pot

A walk is a portrait
An autobiography
You defined yourself already
Will you ever be free?

JayZ

Silence

Silence is sometimes the largest cry of pain. She's tired. I can tell by the way her face droops just like what azaleas look like when you forget to water them. Her hair is pressed to her head and it looks like it hasn't been washed for a few days. She struggles to hold her chin up as a nurse has to try to pour water down her throat. I know that she's only got a few weeks left, but I try to put at thought out of mind. Her body looks stiff and ridged. I don't blame her for being uncomfortable, because I know that I wouldn't want to be stuck in bed all day long either. I can only imagine that the bed feels like a person is laying on a cardboard box. I know she doesn't find an inch of comfort even when those pillows surround her from every angle. The uncongenial noise of nurse's busy footsteps and stupid blaring television screens send me deep into a state of irritability. Her roommate, only about on hundred feet away, sounds as though they are about to hack up a cat and her next door neighbor likes to snore really loud. I decide that I've waited long enough. My feet click on the ice cold floor and I get close to her bedside. I bend my knee and squat down next to her. I can still see that vibrant gleam in her eyes. Though her body is failing her she can still muster up enough strength to pick up her bony fingers and touch the apple of my cheek. "Hello sweetheart, I'm glad you came."

Kell

In All the World

This is what she wants most in the world: a man to love her and a place to call her own. And she got it. She's been dreaming of this day for all her life. The perfect man drives her to the cozy little cottage outside of town she's envisioned since she was small. There is flowers surrounding the white picket fence and a perfect tree for a tire swing. 

She is lying. This is what she wants most in the world. She wants to travel all around the globe with a rock band. She wants to be reckless without responsibilities. Her dreams are infinite, not a single one alike. And once a dream comes true, she is onto the next one. She wants to be free, no restrictions, and to love so passionately it seems like the only thing she knows. Her life will be full of happiness, independence, and a wild spirit. The dreams of childhood fade, and new ones are being created and lived everyday. 

KZ