Dudes with Pens

April 24, 2006

False Hope

In the dark
he could feel a hint of light
like a trace of hope.
The light was like a dangling carrot
set infront of him to make him run
Even though he knew the hint of light
was a foolish false hope it wouldn't hurt
to take a step toward it - but towards what?

The second poem is called Colorless

When I looked at it in the dark
it's black but when I look at it
in yellow light it's yellow.
When I look at it in red light
it's red. Any way I look at it,
it changes color.
How could I ever tell what color it is?

-Erica Ho, UHill



Lost

They carried me off,
To a room
with no windows.
A grand twenty foot coffin.
They told me the people below me

were dead.

I hear their screams.
I weep
of terror
of loss. My mother told me

not to cry.
But how can you not
cry when you lose
those who could have been?

They are fleeting magpie calls.

If you listen closely,
You
can hear
them too.

-Ashlyn Anstee, UHill



My great-grandmother

We clattered down the country road-
In a boxy black car that rattled and shook.
We passed a playground.
The old kind, with the rusty chain
swing set.
slide
tire swing.
I think about kindergarten. I think
about the first day of school
and love and boxed lunches.
anything but my great grandmother
not sitting in the front seat.

every wind that washed against the windows.
fluttered through me.

-Ashlyn Anstee, UHill

posted by dudeswithpens @ 10:39 a.m.