First Place: The Fractured and the Whole, written by Brandon Moore from Phoenix, AZ.
The Fractured and the Whole
Written by Brandon Moore from Phoenix, AZ
With borrowed eyes, blindly I begin to see, through
the fog of nautical twilight, the shadows of others
twisting and blending into the growing night.
They, like me, are separate, broken, disconnected,
in the ever dim and dark world of the lost.
In the obsidian night, I hold the fractured pieces
of myself close, like the gravity of a star,
lonely spheres orbiting and longing to be one.
The unwanted memories shatter me each day,
and keep me chained in the onyx black night.
I remember solace and I want to connect with people
I want to heal, find compassion, and acceptance in
the arms of others. In the distance I see, something new,
a spill of light unknown to me. Slowly I move, as I am
pulled, to a window with an amber glow, a room
illuminated, with figures moving, dancing inside.
On the outside looking in I see people, individuals
in communion, sharing themselves, sharing their light,
undiminished, remaining whole, unlike me, alone,
a broken puzzle orbiting in the black abyss of night.
I see what I wish, to be put together, to be whole,
to have a community, and to not be alone.
A door I never saw opens, pours forth amber light into
the night, as it beckons me in. Together with the people
inside, they shine their light, and I begin to heal.
I blossom, I bloom, I connect and I commune.
The colorful puzzle pieces of me fill in and
I become me, I become one, I become whole.
Being Excluded
written by George Cook from Phoenix, AZ
I noticed yesterday that someone saw me Differently than I really want to be seen It was much like me believing I am a flower But their vision of me was way off the beam So they excluded me Being separated from others in this way Is the worst kind of pain that I have ever felt Even worse than the physical harm done When I was beat as a youngster with a belt Because they excluded me It was not the difference in the colors of our skins Or that my hair was short and theirs was long It was that how they spoke about me to the others For as the person I am they had me all wrong And they excluded me They just took a single look at me to determine What I thought, and the kind of person I am Without allowing me to even say a single word As if that was the way they designed life’s plans So they excluded me It would have been easy and so much better If they asked me the questions in their mind Instead of assuming all that they did about me And I thought it would have really been so kind If they included me
Infirmary
written by Rebecca Loggia from Phoenix, Arizona
She once asked me
if I was scared of catching something.
I told her it was no more deadly
than catching the thought
that you have to be normal
in order to be beautiful.
