Favorite Place

My favorite place is not a unique one,

Or an uncommon one.

But it is my favorite place.

Every time I walk into my bedroom,

I feel calm and relaxed.

The air is sometimes nice and cool

And other times it is hot.

Two windows stand by my full sized bed.

Purple, pink, and blue pop throughout the room.

There is furniture lining the walls of my room.

LED lights hang from window to window.

At Christmas time, a small, shimmering purple tree sits on my desk.

Colorful ornaments dance on the branches.  

A pink star topper sits on top.

Blue and silver beaded garland go around and around the tree.

A pink shimmery tree shirt sits on the desk.

I didn’t get my own room until a few years ago.

I shared a room with my sister and that didn’t go the best as I got older.

So this is truly my favorite place

-A.M.

A Christmas Story

Trudging through the snow to the beige garage

Slowly peeling off layers as we go trying not to drop the stack of presents

You can hear the bubbling of Oyster stew and Chili on the stove

Being gathered into hugs as you cross the threshold

Smelling sweet sugar cookies

¨Barrett give that back to Lucy, and go play with your cousins. Do you know where Evie is Lucy?No, you don't well great!¨

The screams of Yayne, Yayne as I walk into sight

Being tackled by a small army, and being suffocated by love

Jumping across the war zone that used to be my grandmas living room floor trying to avoid toys that are scattered like landmines

¨Darling will you set the table?¨

¨Of course grandma¨

The table is filled with food and family

Old memories are exchanged for new laughter

The clanking of dishes being washed as children anxiously await in the next room

The old Christmas tree covered in little snowmen with dozens of presents underneath

Passing out the presents you can hear the clunks and thunks as the little ones shake their gifts to try and see what's inside

You can faintly hear A Christmas Story playing in the background not for long soon all you can hear are squeals and giggles as wrapping paper covers the floor, the tables, the coaches, even people

The youngest open their presents first and you can see the concentration on their faces as they try to wait patiently for their turn again

Soon after a trash bag is passed around

As the children practically pass out on the couches from exhaustion the adults go outside to play cards

And I finally have some peace and quiet to watch A Christmas Story

This is how our Christmas Story finishes

-L.Sue

Packing List

White dressers

White walls

Disgustingly bright orange carpet

Pops of color cover every inch

A kaleidoscope of pigments

Bright, soft, fluffy fabrics drape over a bed frame

Dark stained wood lines the walls

Black curtains undisguisable with the night

Blood red sheets or silver and gold

Always with a black comforter

Instruments put where ever they fit

Clothes strewn about the floor

Books on every shelf

Big, small, long, or  tall

Drawings adorn the bland walls

Bulbs of Christmas red hang down from the ceiling

But no longer

They are the first to go

Drawings are torn down

But these memories remain

Big, small, long, or tall

Boxes swallow books

Clothes put into bags

Instruments packed away

The bed is now just a mattress on the floor

Sheets still on but never as neat

The black night swallows this poem

Dark stained thoughts crowd this room

Bright, soft, fluffy feelings flee

A kaleidoscope of emptiness

Pops of old wounds reopening

Disgustingly, this along with others is tarnished

With white walls and white dressers

They will soon be packed away

~ Yours Truly

The Last Day

The morning of May 14, 2005, I woke up to the savory smell of hickory smoked bacon, scrambled eggs, and freshly baked cinnamon rolls. I ran downstairs in my button up pajamas. I was the first one to the table for the first time ever, I had beaten my older brother there. It wasn't normal to have so many different options for breakfast at my house, so I didn't know what to expect or what was happening.

Back then I didn't know what would happen at the end of the day. I didn't know who I was going to see or what I was going to do. I wish I would have known, but I was just a kid. So, after I had finished eating I had asked my mom why she had made so much food for only three kids.

“Grandpa is coming over to eat and then take you out for the day,” she said.

I squealed and my heart filled with joy. My grandpa Bob is still today one of the most important people that has ever been apart of my life. There were so many things I wish could have happened that day. I remember it so clearly. This day will be with me forever.  Instead of just doing boring everyday things on that very last day, I would have done every one of his favorite hobbies.

I wake up on November 1, 2017 to the sound of pots and pans smacking against each other. I run downstairs expecting to see my mom making breakfast. I sit down at the island in the kitchen and as the person on the other side stands up from below getting pans out I realize that is isn't my mom. It’s my grandpa standing there with a silver cookie sheet in his hands.

“Goodmorning, Rileigh,” he says.

“What…what are you doing here?”

It had been 12 years since I had seen him standing there in the kitchen. I was so shocked, I didn’t know if I was just seeing things or not. He said he would be here only for a short amount of time so I shouldn't ask anymore questions. I missed that about him. He never wanted to waste anytime doing things that wouldn't help make the day go any better.

We stayed in the kitchen baking cookies for about an hour. Too bad grandma couldn't be there to help us… they never turn out very good when we are the only ones making them. After that we played cards and did as many puzzles as we could fit on the dining room table. Grandpa kept checking his watch to keep track of time, which brought me back to the reality that he would have to leave at the end of the day. But that did not stop us from talking about the different types of changes that have occurred since we last spoke like presidents, new technology and our lives. Believe me, it was a long talk because grandpa always has something to say about everything.  

We then decided to go over to his house. The leaves outside needed raked and grandpa had wished to see the flowers he had planted, but by this time they were dried up and wilted. After we finished all of the outside work that needed to be done we headed inside to make up some of my grandma's homemade hot chocolate. We sat down in the living room to watch T.V. Grandpa was looking around for his chair and had asked me why it wasn't sitting in its corner anymore.

“Well… after you left everyone wanted to sit there in that spot, and after a while it just got too worn out and we couldn't use it anymore. I mean, all of the little kids climbing around on it probably didn't help that much either,” I explained.

A faint smile came to his face. “Oh, well I suppose that's alright,” he said as he checked his watch again.

We sat there watching Christmas movies in November and I realized that he was just as crazy as the rest of us. He loved anything that had to do with Christmas, especially when it came time for church on Sunday mornings and he got to sing Christmas carols in the choir. I can't quite remember him in church mostly because I would never be able to stay there and pay attention for that long without my mom having to take me out of church. But, everyone tells me that you could always hear him and that my older brother sounds a lot like him, so that is how I imagine it.

By this time it was 9 o'clock and I realized that soon he would have to go. He drove me back to my house and then I got ready for bed. I had spent nearly 13 straight hours with him and it seemed as if I had been with him for only a few minutes. He told me that when I woke back up in the morning I wouldn't remember a single thing about what had happened today. I was disappointed, but at least I could enjoy it for now.

He sat with me until I fell asleep. I tried so hard to stay awake that night. When I woke up in the morning he was gone, but over on my nightstand was an old rusted watch that I hadn't seen in years. I picked it up and looked at it. It was the same watch that my grandpa had worn everyday since I had known him. I may not have remembered what happened that day, but I do know that my grandpa will be with me everyday for the rest of my life.

Where I'm from

I am from secondhand smoke

From silly bands and store brand everything

I am from the living room couch

Musty, Frayed, Soft

It felt like my mother’s arms if she wasn’t there to comfort me

I am from the dead houseplants that never got watered.

The coconut oil smeared onto chapped dry lips.

Cold and smooth. Waxy and smeared.

I’m from the long road trips and disorganization

From The Carnleys and The Glasers

And from Lea Elaine Melchior

I’m from stubbornness and procrastination

From lame dad jokes and “go ask mom”

I’m from godless good deeds

And treating people right for no other reason than it being the right thing to do

I’m from Germany and France and Spain and Austria and Ireland

Sauerkraut and Pasta

From the time when I was tubing with dad and a tornado struck

The jagged scar on my grandpa’s knee

Few family pictures piled up in a box down in the basement, long forgotten

I am from hope and despair, from successes and failures, life and death. ~S1!

Lost Cousin

It was the fourth of July a day that has been celebrated with my cousins and close friends for years.   A day where my cousin and I would hang out even though he was seven years older than me.  We were really close i wish we were still that close.  I wish we could still set off fireworks together and laugh and be dangerous.  But he has grown up and is married and has kids so he doesn't talk to me any more.  He left me alone and he doesn't even know how that makes me feel.  He doesn't have time for me the only time he will talk to me is to ask where my parents are.  It's like he has forgotten about me as if I'm a ghost now.  As if i'm not even around any more.   

If I could spend just one more fourth of July with my cousin like we used to I totally would in a second.  The day would start like any other forth with us playing wii sports .  I know that sounds weird but it was like tradition.  Basically we would try to make each other screw up.  It would be full of laughs and cussing and we would try to avoid breaking anything.  We wouldn't want a repeat of the time we broke a glass bowl.   After playing wii for what seemed like hours but was barely two we would by the fireworks.  We would go buy all the fireworks together at the stand across from the Catholic Church.  We would spend a lot of money there like over a hundred dollars.  Once we got back to my house we would set off the fireworks that you can’t really do at night, like the smoke bombs, and the little ones you throw and we would somehow start throwing them at each other.  I got a couple scars from that.  

Once we were finished with the day fireworks we would go eat hamburgers, hotdogs, potatoes and macaroni salad.  This was always my favorite meal.  We would talk about life as we ate and how high school or college was going depending on the year.   

Once night came that was when the fun would start.  We would set up this big firework show tieing all the wicks together to make the artilleries go off at the same time. All my family members would watch with a big smile.  Once the wick was lit we would run away and watch fireworks explode in the sky.  We would be laughing and smiling and he would hug me saying I was his favorite cousin.  I wish this could happen again but i doubt it ever will.   I'm just a younger cousin now nothing more.  

~Justine

My Grandpa's Chair

¨ Someday you will be Miss America my dear.¨

¨ But grandpa we just ate a whole bag of puffy cheetos.¨

¨Only real Miss Americas can have a little chub on them.¨

The soft reassuring sound of your Grandpa´s voice

In a soft cozy chair.

What could be better?

At 4 years old she'd beg to go to Grandpas house,

Just so her and Gramps could sit and watch cartoons,

In Grandpa's chair.

Christmas was on its way and the whole family was there,

But not Lauren and Grandpa.

They were downstairs drinking hot cocoa,

In Grandpa's chair.

The endless stories and life lessons that little girl learned,

All in Grandpa's chair.

She's all grown up now,

With sports, boyfriends, and school,

But yet she never forgets about grandpa.

At the age of 15 she was playing softball right in Grandpa's town,

Playing the game she loves, with every ounce of effort she has

Results in some scrapes and bruises.

Grandma spoils her head to toe

And cleans her all up.

Soon after we all know where Lauren and Grandpa are,

Sleeping in Grandpa's chair.

A day full tears for Lauren's fall sport season has come to an end by injury,

Only calls for one thing.

A day of rest with Grandpa in his chair.

It's time for thanksgiving,

All the cousins and boyfriends gather around for grandmas big feast.

You can tell which boyfriend's are new

because they sat in the wrong chair.

Don't you worry though, Grandpa put an end to that.

Grandpas heart was so full of love

That eventually it had to stop.

¨ Life is full of love my dear, make sure you find it in the right things.

Succeed in what you love. Thank you for all the time we've spent. I love you¨

Although your time has passed Grandpa,

The memories in your chair won't.

Don't you worry Gramps I will keep it warm for you,

Until next time.

-LEH

Stolen

Oh lovely metaphors,

What’s the good word?

I can detect whenever someone is using you.

Emotion is the blue hue.

Who let the cat out of the bag?

The cat was in a bag?!

It’s good the cat is out,

He didn’t deserve to be in there.

One chica was in a restaurant the other day.

She overheard that one person got stabbed in the back -

Why didn’t anyone call the police?

Someone else hit the books -

This must be an American phenomenon?

But why did the burly biker dude try to find a cold turkey?

Oh English, you feisty black sheep of the world,

Stop stealing other country’s vocabulary and making everything complicated.

~Ann Marie

Pulchritudinous

I take myself to many places

The Rocky Mountains

Another place where the sun warms my skin, but not too much

Sometimes I even put myself in the middle of a winter storm, surrounding myself with pure white

But my most favorite place of all is a meadow

It has tall, yellow grasses

And trees surround it, except on one side

That side has tall, snow-capped mountains

And it’s beautiful

In the middle, a small shack sits, the mountains are its background

It’s nothing fancy

Really, it might even be considered creepy,

But to me, it holds beauty

Once upon a time someone lived there

They saw what I saw in such a quiet, quaint place

It’s wondrous

I can hear a stream somewhere off in the woods

The wind blows a bit, but it gives no harsh bite

I let the grass slip through my fingers as I walk towards the shack

My bare feet travel over the cool dirt, allowing me to be closer to Mother Nature

I step on the first step of my shack, and it creaks under my weight

It’s comforting, just like the rest of my world

Sometimes I become sad when I realize I can’t show you exactly what it looks like

Then I remember that that’s okay, because maybe I should be selfish and keep it for myself

Just once.

-B

Feeling

I woke up not feeling the hunger eating at my stomach

I stumbled out of bed slamming my toe into the wall but not knowing

Brushing my hair too much once again it rips out

As the bloody toothpaste runs down the drain I realize I overdid it again

I throw on my clothes and run down the stairs

Turning on the stove I don’t feel the subtle heat

I put the skillet on and I can’t feel the oil popping it’s burning my skin once again

I quickly eat the egg as it scalds my tongue but I don’t know that

Running out the door I trip and scrap open my knees

Jumping back up I hop in my car and drive to work

Everyone stares as I walk in

Running to the bathroom I look in the mirror

I see my caved in stomach

My swollen toes poking out of my sandal

The patches of hair missing from my head

My teeth stained red

The angry red blisters on my arms

Blood running down my legs

But I couldn’t feel any of this happen
-L.Sue