The Woman

The woman waits for a bus 
that may never come. 
She could be waiting for 
a car, a bike, but it is a bus. 
Minutes become seconds, 
hours become minutes, 
days become hours, 
weeks become days, 
months become weeks, 
years become months, 
decades become years, 
centuries become decades.

The bus never came. 

She thought she was immortal
because she had waited so long. 
When the bus came she boarded it. 
She felt weightless as if she were
on the moon, 
in a zeppelin, 
in a plane, 
or dead. 
She hadn't realized how long 
she had waited. 
Then she realized she could just 
stay on the bus 
and leave. 


https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=AnWWj6xOleY

Liste to while reading

Basketball

 The ball in my
 hand

                          My elbow
                             in

                                              My eyes on the
                                                   rim
  
                                                       READY...                          
          
                                                                         3
          
                                                                              2

                                                                                    1

                                                        My wrist
                                                             snapped
                                                                                                SWISH
                               
                The ball bouncing
                   back  to me,
                There is nothing better...





                                                                                                Than a perfect shot.

Goodbye, Amous

4:00 at night
I'm sitting in the
passenger seat
Still with the
faint scent of dog

I watch my mom take the box
 that's still wiggling
to the new owner

I feel tears building
in my eyes. I can't help but think
he'd be better
with me

4:30 at night
Staring at the
empty dog pen
Trying to convince myself
 he'll be alright

Balance

When light
is inflicted by
darkness,
it shall be
smothered out,
only for impermeable
remnants,
to attempt to destroy
what once kept it covered,
In a desperate act
of finding equilibrium.

Cereal

The perfect cereal 
 is one where I finish 
 it and want more.

The perfect cereal
 is one that has the right crunch,
 with the right amount of milk.

The perfect cereal
 is something that will stay
 in my life forever.

So much depends upon

So much depends upon

Blue sky
on a hot
and sunny day.

Tuna

Don’t you just hate it when you get hit on the head with a can of tuna?



Let that sink in...





When I was a boy, I hated tuna.
I still hate tuna, tuna is “the crap of the sea.”
All the tuna in the world should stay fish and not sandwiches.
Do not eat tuna if you want any of my respect or encouragement.
Do not eat tuna or “I will find you, and I will literally throw you into the sea, and then spread you on a sandwich.



Thank you

Light Colored Socks

 In my second sock drawer
Where all my light colored socks lay

The knee highs
The mid calf’s
And the ankle socks

The socks that make you look
Whiter than sour cream

The socks that make you contemplate
If you went outside this summer......
Or ever

Let’s say you were in a play
You could nail the role as a blizzard

Light colored socks
The socks you can only wear
If you’re in a suit of darks

Light colored socks
peak out of your shoe
And are instantly displayed
 to the whole world

The socks that will give you
Fits all day

The socks people actually notice

The socks that are unacceptable to wear
To any sporting event
Besides practice

Light colored socks take your
Ashness to a whole new level

Layer on that lotion

So to all my fellow people—

Get yourself
A nice pair of dark socks

Knee highs
Mid calf’s
Or even ankle highs

Where I am From

I am from all kinds of chips 

that would be fed to the oldest dog 

first to see if it was good

I am from pink walls and softball sisters. 

I am from a starvation family that if you don't

get down in time there would either be no food

or cold food. I am from a puddle of something

that when you laugh it just all comes out. I am

from purple painted letters that just form my name.

I am from Geo-catching only with two people

I am from a crazy Christmas party that goes INSANE

one minute after a great dinner. I am from tubing down

a river with only one minute before it tips. I am from

endless lemonade stands just on the corner. Creating only

games one other person knows. From a teenager to middleschoolers 

to toddlers. All different people but only two bodies.

Under the bed and in the closet, only memories two people will

understand. Me and my very related best friend. 

The Workout Room

She left,
maybe to use the bathroom, or maybe to take off
her wet swimsuit from under her spanks
with no key card to get back in.

We had a plan,
that she obviously didn't see coming,
but knew, right as she saw
the laughter of Ashlee and I, running on the treadmill
taking in the stench of sweat and Powerade,
"ignoring" the banging on the glass door.

Finally choosing to look at her,
still laughing with pride,
filming her every move,
even the flip of the bird
that got us laughing even harder.

By this time,
the joke was up
and I took an unexpected blow to the back,
from a 40lb workout ball
when we finally got the dumb idea
to let her back in.

Waffle Iron

Every now and then 
I make waffles

I make them with a 
very hot 
waffle iron

I used to make them 
with a colder/good iron

Now I use an iron with 
adjustable temperature, 
but I can't get it right

Because I can't get it 
right it gets too hot

Our old waffle  iron 
didn't have adjustable 
temperature therefore it 
did not get too hot or too cold

Our old waffle iron 
was a milky white

Our new waffle iron is a 
blinding yet shiny silver color

The problem here is that 
our new waffle iron makes 
waffles quicker, but every 
time I use it I almost 
burn myself.

-Max Black

Hello?

Hello?
Answer me please!
Well finally, there you are!
*clears throat*
Hello there.
I am Ted.
I’m really bored.
I like to dance sometimes.
Except I’m a teddy bear.
And if my owner sees me she might get mad.
So I only dance when I’m by myself.
I like to talk with the other toys on the shelf sometimes.
Like this one doll.
Owner doesn’t like her.
I remember her telling her Mom that she was scary.
But her Mom won’t let her get rid of it because she says it an antique.
Whatever that means.
Anyways...
Owner sings really bad.
I remember when her Mom told her to shut up.
She started crying.
She deserved it though.
I get that she’s seven, but I’ve never heard anyone sing so bad in my life.
Sorry owner.
I wonder why I don’t call owner by her name...
Guess I should start...
her name is












Wait, that’s private information. Nevermind. Bye bye now.

Life as a Chicken

Yes,
I am a chicken.
I know what you're thinking,
"Chickens can't type or write!"
But that's where you're wrong.

You see,
I went to this place
Called "Chicken School".
I know what you're thinking,
"There's no such thing as 'Chicken School'!"

But yet again,
You're wrong.

Where else do you think
I learned how to do
Basically EVERYTHING!?!?!

Anyway,
My point is
Everything that I'm saying to you right now
Is absolutely true stuff
So stop questioning it
Because you're wrong.

Anyway,
Life as a chicken isn't as easy as I make it look.
Again,
I know what you're thinking,
"All you do is eat and poop!"
But,
You're wrong.
 What's so hard about being a chicken, you might ask?

Well,
You have to worry about
PREDATORS EATING YOU 24/7!
Being a chicken,
You are really defenseless.
You can't run fast,
You can't fly fast
And
By the time you want to scream,
You're already dead.
Not so easy, is it?

Sorry if I scared you a little bit...
But that's how life is as a chicken.
Now you know,
Life as a chicken isn't all "sunshine and rainbows".
If you thought it was,
You're wrong.

The Band

So about a month ago we made a "band"

We have:

Me on guitar

Kenzie on piano/xylophone

Asher on drums

Maia on violin

Finian on saxophone

Marcos as manager


We are.                                                                                                           MOSTLY LEGAL





We make music

Ping-Pong

I wait
for my opponent
to serve the tiny white ball
that I can hardly see

the ball
comes right at me as I swing the
the paddle

then the ball suddenly disappears

I look
behind me to see it
staring at it with shame

my opponent
drops 7 point on me before my paddle
can even touch the ball

"good game
and better luck next time"

Poetic Musical (musical poetry)

I do not hate music,
I despise it.

If you like music,
You will not want to tell me because I know where you live.

Good day.

A Scar

A scar can tell you where I was

A scar can tell you where I’ve been

A scar can tell you when to fight

A scar can tell you when to end

A scar can tell you many things 

But NOT what I am

- Darcy

What Is Beyond~Part 1

Midnight comes. Caleb has awoken 
from an amazing dream. On a huge 
ship he stands. 

He feels the wind 
blowing at his face as he yells “ahoy” to his crew. The rocks of the huge wooden boat rock roughly. 

He could feel the waters of the ocean splashing onto his face. His young, ten year old face. He wanted to go there, to the ocean. 

He knew there was more beyond that huge wall. The wall keeping everyone away from what was beyond it. Reality. Life. The creatures and land beyond that wall, maybe even, more people. 

What Am I?

I spend a lot of time with you.

I have you with me 

everywhere I go

You make me laugh, cry, yell

and so much more.

I use you to get to other people

You hold all my stuff

I get in trouble for being with you so much

You protect me and hurt me.

I dress you however I want,

Sometimes I control you, or you control me.

You’re there for me when no one else is

People say you’re bad for me, but I don’t believe them.

Sometimes I want to throw you out.

You make me happy and sad

You’re mine and only mine.

So much depends upon

So much depends
upon

The chickens pecking
on their food

Just strolling around
in the pen

And the people
drenching water on the plants

Recollection

An item can be a
Portal,

For a time
once lost to you.

My Friend No More

You are my friend,

But I am unable to help you

To know you,

To have any elements of friendship

You’ve gone from being reality

To being a dream

Untouchable

Unlovable

I pray to my god and wait,

But I see no end

I want to deny you

To be free of fear

But I am tied to you...

Though pain and tears, I cannot make disappear..

23 ACTIONS that would make great poems

1.  feeding the birds - spilling the birdseed onto
the ground worrying about the cats catching the birds

2. practicing saxophone, always forgetting the A#

3. driving RC cars in Palmer Park - tipped over

4. driving past thousands of sheep that smelled of manure and rotten eggs

5. running with Kaylee - geese!

6.  playing new high hat cymbals

7. clanging Asher's xylophone

8.  playing guitar in the band

9.  skating with family - hoping not to fall

10. making a quiz for my friends - waiting for results

11. fixing my dad's tire

12.  destroying my brother in basketball - easily!

13. playing basketball - practicing crossovers

14. freezing my butt off by watching the cold runners
 pass by

15.  feeding the bullfrog and wondering if he will
eat my finger

16.  playing ping pong even though I have no chance
of winning

17.  making cotton candy with my three P's -
green food coloring everywhere

18. eating my second dinner with my sister

19. jumping on trampolines at skyzone - almost broke
my neck

20. hiking really early in the morning

21. staining wood to make a sign

22.  making slime - stretchy particles sticking
to everything

23.  making macaroni and cheese

In a journey.

In a journey
in which someone
is contemplating ones true self,
the soul will find something it wasn’t looking for.

Somber.

Slick, shiny black
based on wood
reflects the colored light
of sun passing through stained glass
into my already sorrowful eyes,
as I stand in front of once borrowed flesh
now about to be returned
to the earth.

Image.

A picture, sweet and simple.
Known for holding a thousand words,
yet, not beginning to pervade the love
felt for ones kin.

The cherished image of a mans now resting child
playing in the olive grove,
lay now half crumpled
in a soft hands grasp.

Forever trapped in a piece of paper,
subsides something
worth more than his own life,
before she was so frail and delicate
in that hospital bed.
He is happy to remember her in this way.