Holding on & Letting Go

Letting go of something that is very dear to you, can be very hard.

In fact, I think we all struggle with it at some point in our lives.

Whether that’s letting go of an old t-shirt, or letting go of your husband that has passed away.

Our entire lives- throughout our entire lives, we are constantly letting go of things that we didn’t realize we had held onto for so long.

Whether that’s the cute clothes that are still in your closet, that you never wear…

Or the crushed hopes that you have still held onto.

Learn to let some things go.

Hold onto the things that have real sentimental value, though.

Keep the photos.

Don’t throw away memories.

Hold onto the things in life that will make you smile in the future.

One day, you will want to look back on it all.

And it will just be flipping one page after the other.
-G.S.

Holding On and Letting Go

Holding On And Letting Go

Sitting on my dresser

A single stuffed rabbit sits

Tons use to surround it as well

But they’re gone now

Alone this one sits

Because i couldn’t bare to let it go

The memories of my grandpa

Now fill my head

Everytime I see it

I remember the day I got it

My mom and dad said “No, you have enough.”

But my loving grandpa felt different

He took the stuffed rabbit in his hand

Without me realizing it, he went his own way

And we went ours

I was so upset that I couldn’t have it

Arriving at grandma and grandpas I wept

My grandpa approached me with an item in his hand

He bent down towards me and in his hand laid the stuffed rabbit

He may be gone but his memories flood my mind everytime I see it

Sight Does Not See

Sight is lost in the place of constant shadows

He feels the warmth, but does not see the fire

Sight strains with all his might to see that which others do

Yet he does not get his wish.

Sight does not see.

Lightning flashes but Sight is not exposed,

To the beauty of the sunrises and sunsets.

He does not smile at the transformation of the red and gold of fall

As it leaks into winter.

Sight does not see.

Sight does not see the curling snowdrifts

Nor does he witness the pretty green grass as it sprouts up from the ground in spring.

The glossy photographs of his beloved family will never again touch his eyes,

And as the crowds shuffle by, Sight will only begin to dream about what they look like.

Tall, short, young, or old

Sight does not see

To walk down the street alone would be a miracle,

And to know what lies ahead would be a feat.

If harm was to look him in the eye,

He would not know it.

Sight does not see.

If this bothers him,

He couldn’t show it.

But he could tell you in a secret language that only those who are blessed can read.

Sight’s ears would perform magic,

In the ways that are allowed only for blind ears to do so.

Sight floats through life on the edge, among the shadows

Yet he does not notice the turnings of the earth because,

Sight does not see.

~S. Rae

In the trunk near the bed

Sitting at the top near the head

Memories locked away

Saving them for another day

Inside the chest

Near where I rest

There are several dolls

I remember when the decorated you halls

Your house was much fun

We always spent days on end in the sun

Outside laughing and playing near the river bend

We never wanted the days to end

We would hide downstairs in the toy room

If we got to loud we would get the broom

Sweeping and cleaning until the whole room was done

That was honestly never any fun

When he passed away

But you were aloud to stay

I cleaned out the halls

Taking all your precious dolls

I took them home and put them away

Those amazing dolls are here to stay

It reminds me of you even though you are still here

But knowing you will leave us soon makes me shed a tear

I wish I could tell you how much I love you

To my great grandma I will always miss you
-A

This is Where I am From

I am from the ancient deck of cards in the tall dresser,

From Bob’s mints and strong, homemade coffee.

I am from the endless land surrounding grandma’s storied house.

Infinite, immense,

it felt like there was ALWAYS something to do.

I am from the old tree in grandma’s front yard,

where each childhood photo was snapped.

Or the one tree, that holds the black and worn tire swing,

each of us grandkids have swung in.

The river snaking through the pasture,

Which holds too many memories to count.

I wish every day that I could replay them.

I’m from the trips to eat great feasts to brown eyes,

From Gesine and Alfonse and Elva.

I’m from the smart alecks,

and the Pollocks.

From Sit up! and Calm down!

I’m from religiously watching football,

every spare second of time.

I’m from a hospital bed in my hometown and a month later,

one in a bigger community.

Ice cold lemonade and fried chicken.

From the time Amanda got sick.

Really, badly sick,

To the day my favorite cousin and his amazing fiance were wed.

In the old dresser or the low, birch cabinet,

situated in different family rooms

I am from the moments I remember all too well,

to those that haven’t happened yet.

-Oliver, the cat

Where I come From...

Where I come from…

I am from a toy slug bug thrown against my face, from Bratz and Polly Pocket.

I am from the vendor's room  at my nerd conventions, crowded and full of life.

It sounded like my hopes and dreams that are swirling inside of my head.

I am from my succulent I named Fredrick and raised as one of my own, and the cacti I love so much garding itself with its sharp pricks of its appearance.

I'm from  watching ghost adventures and anxiety, from Niki and Tricia and Sydney.

I’m from the angry tendencies and amazing artwork my loved ones are able to make.

From the supposed cat in the shower drain that caused the showerhead to screech and being told that perfume on wounds is a magic healer.

I’m from being fascinated by God and his book to questioning where he is and why he hasn’t come to save me from myself.

I’m from Scotland and Rising City, from Mac’n Cheese and Cheap WIne.

From the days when Niki would leave bruises on me from biting me because I sat in her favorite chair, and when Anna ran into a parked tractor.

From one of my favorite pictures of Mariah with a little piece of paper taped on her that says “I CAN and I WILL” on it.

I am from the dark days when nothing feels right and the days were all I can do is smile because I am around everyone I love and I know they all love me back.

I am from a small place called HOPE.

Viva El Momento

Where I'm From

I am from a faded pink bikini with sequins,

    From old Hornady bullets and vintage Cabela’s sweatshirts.

I am from the unfinished basement filled with my childhood memories, to the big front yard where Brittany and I used to play fetch, and the big pool table with the colorful balls in the basement that fascinated me.

    Each house remained alive as I left each adventurous home--

    It felt like the sweetest place you can imagine!

I am from the lavender lilac which never stopped smelling fascinating;

    The beautiful essence brings me to life.

    Each of the lavender petals have a deep meaning, and the aroma sings through my nose.

I’m from the homemade oyster stew and the delicious chili on a snowy Christmas Eve night and the enormous gap in between my two front teeth,

    From Grandpa Delmer and Uncle Rick and of course Randy.

I’m from the hardcore wrestling on the floor and gambling on everything we tend to put our eyes on,

From being told that I could be anything that my little heart dreamt of and being expressed as daddy’s little girl.

I’m from the vintage Christmas CD that played extravagant instruments while my brothers and I put the homemade Christmas ornaments on the towering green tree, and the pleasing church hymns on a snowy Christmas Eve

I’m from the the charming country of Germany where my great-grandmother was created, but was sent off to the United States to create the wonderful family of mine, bockwurst and sauerkraut were some of the delightful dishes my family would make for some of our feasts.

From the time that I went into my grandfather’s treeline to sit up in a 20 foot deer stand and looking around at the breathtaking nature that surrounded my dad and I; I was nervous to shoot my first deer that day; the fat turkeys above us in the tall trees made my dad and I chuckle; as soon as that humongous creature came around the corner to capture a drink of fresh creek water, I knew he was going to be mine; within ten yards, I shot him with all my adrenaline in me; my dad was so proud of me;  he is my biggest supporter; he taught me right from wrong and wiped my tears as I told him all my deepest secrets; it’s hard to find someone who you have extreme passion for, and to know he’ll never give up on you, even if he goes through hell to get there.

I am from the love and passion and the family who never ceases to amaze me, and the old crumpled up pictures that held all the memories we created together; I am from the light and the dark, but I never stop dreaming; I’m from the stories that I’m eager to create.

H.G.

Flawed Personal Ad

Written by John Cena

Flawed Personal Ads

Hello my name is Arthur Jones. I am a 30 year old, lonely, single, male. But that’s all okay because I’m rich. I am 7 feet tall with an enormous beard that would impress Santa Clause. I have a routine schedule of playing video games all night and sleeping all day. My home is so clean, you can’t even see the floor. I don’t spend all my time inside. My favorite place is my room, more specifically my bed for more reasons than one. I will warn you, never use my computer and and never open the folder in the corner. I keep uh, personal treasured memories there. I certainly don’t have anything inappropriate in there (nervous, smiley face). I sometimes take my dog out for a walk. I just need to remember where he has been for the last ten years. One pet peeve of mine is when cars pass me while I’m speeding. The nerve of those guys. There is a really nice bar across to road of my home. Do I have you convinced yet that I am the guy for you.

Dear Arthur Jones

Ditto! I was convinced the moment I read rich. Where do we start.

Where I'm From

I am from a highway

From Coca-Cola and Downy fabric softener

I am from a house of hugs and “I love yous”

Loving, safe

It feels like you are bundled up in ten of your warmest blankets, sipping on warm cocoa

I am from the garden that my grandma plants every year

The strawberry patch,

Continuing its growth, year after year.

I’m from the Christmas Dinners and Brown Hair

From Natalie and Noland and Rosalia

I’m from the laughing together, and Maroon 5 playing on Sunday mornings

From the clean your rooms and pray about it.

I’m from a bible verse,

And church every Sunday morning.

I am from Albion, first child born in this town

Strong coffee and my grandpa’s homemade jerky.

From the great-grandparents house where we would play when we were kids,

While great-grandpa watched over us from heaven.

The security of my grandma’s hugs, after I take a nasty spill.

Beyond the fence where memories were made, and family members lost.

This is where I’m from

Perfect Match

Hi! My name is Ferguson and my most unattractive quality is that I chew with my mouth open. Honestly I just make weird noises with my mouth altogether. I slurp, I chomp, I crunch and I make odd pig noises. I’m the most obnoxiously loud chewer in the world. I can’t stand to hear other people make those noises, yet, I can’t help it! I’ve tried to eat softer foods but somehow it’s just as loud!. When I eat a banana, it sounds like a screwdriver going through a garbage disposal, and that’s one of the softest foods in the world! Even when I take a drink I make slurping, gargling noises! Whenever I take a drink of pop, it sounds like I’m opening a new can of pop over and over again! I wish I could fix it but I don’t know how, so I’m looking for someone who can overlook my noises and love me for me.

Dear Ferguson, my name is Olive. I used to chew like that too, but I got surgery to fix it. I am a oral surgeon who has a solution to your problem. It sound like you grind your teeth while eating and even drinking for that matter. It also sounds like you have large cheeks that echoes the sounds. It would help to get cheek reduction surgery. Also, you need to start wearing grind guards because, unlike rodents, our teeth do not grow constantly. I’d like to go on a date with you! How about my OR next week at 8:00 to get that cheek reduction surgery you so desperately need.

April J.

Where I'm from

I am from the place of constant learning.

The place of love and joy,

But also the place of anger and despair.

I am from the place of movies and tv,

From board games and videogames,

To books to my imagination.

I am from the place of music

The place of family and tradition.

I am from the place of hope and encouragement,

But also the place of doubt and discouragement.

But I am from the place that I call home.

That is the place where I am me.

~Sheryl Swoopes

Where I’m From

I am from a cushion of a forest green love seat,

From Amazon and the Special K.

I am from the small homey mansion of my mother’s

(overflowing with cakes, cat fur, and the smell of home)

To my old and creaky dwelling of my father’s

(ripped wallpaper (thanks, sis) and a rambunctious set of kids.

It smells like cooked rice).

I’m from the hydrangea macrophylla,

The Japanese shrub

That appears to be a flower cloud of blues, purples, and pink.

I’m from the freshly baked dinner rolls and the pitch black hairs

From Nemo and Lynn and Piwi.

I’m from the constant worrying and the dreadful side-picking.

From “Are you mad at me?” and “Don’t let that food go to waste!”

I’m from He who is forever graceful,

The loving father who will do anything for us.

I’m from the rice fields and orphan-filled villages,

The spring rolls made with rice paper and the delicious bun cha.

-MTO

My Name

Grace Slizoski is my name.

I am only one out of 7 billion people.

I’m just the middle child in a family of 8.

I have been called the sass queen by my mother,

Princess Gracie as a child by my entire family,

And a cement-head teenager by my grandfather.

The list goes on and on.

Some names are cool and comforting,

While others are harsh and hurtful.

But, however, a name is just a name.

It does not define who you are.

A name can be so many things.

It can be something that gives you goosebumps,

Or it could light up someone’s eyes whenever you say it.

A name is so powerful, it is part of what makes us, us.

There is no other Michael Jackson, who can dance like he did.

There is not another you, that has the talents and qualities that you do.

A name can be presented with so much honor and gratitude.

You have a purpose on this Earth, make people remember your name.

So, decide.

Are you just going to be another person that has come and gone?
-G.S.