After Watching Peter Pan Again

I return to my room with tears in my eyes.
When I was little, this was pure adventure.
Now
I stare out the open window
and begin to imagine.
The unreasonable part of me-
the part that
once upon a time
let me be a princess,
let me sail with pirates,
the part that believes good
always
triumphs over evil-
hopes that Pan himself
will come swooping to my window
and take me away,
take me,
so I will never, ever become a grown-up.

But the reasonable part of me-
the part that concedes
it's just a movie,
that shouts everyone must grow up,
the part that helps me with math-
that side states in a calm voice:
You need to get over it.

Tonight I ignore the voice of reason.
I continue to gaze out my window.
Warm summer air drifts in.
I can smell the night on it
and the subtle scent of fresh cut grass.
Thin clouds stretch over stars,
ghostly and pale.
I strain my neck till I'm dangling out the window,
searching for some sign of a flying boy.
Of course, there is none,
just as there never was.

Still, I stay like this
until my mother yells to me to get ready for bed.
I replace the screen,
step away,
and, earthbound,
move on.

-Marley Witham

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

-Robert Frost

Deer Print

A soft indentation-
two toes-
marks the ground,
a blank reminder
of what has been here before me.
I try to feel amazed,
to marvel at this muddy imprint,
to feel lucky at my chance notice-
but I want to see the deer,
steam streaming from her nostrils
as she stares at me,
thin legs threatening
to give way,
small brown head
trembling in the cold.
I want to see her bound away,
her tail high in the air,
her two-toed hooves
marking the ground.

-Benjamin F. Williams

Fat Man

I catch sight of the man
on route to the mountain's summit.
He carries with him a recycled Coke bottle
secured to a small pack.

But the man also hefts his weight
inside a sweat-stained XXXL red tee shirt.
He's what I call a fat man--

a fat man who doesn't exercise,
a fat man who engulfs food,
a fat man who lives only to become fatter and fatter.

He turns at my approach
then drops his eyes
as they meet the expression in mine

I pass the fat man swiftly, with disgust,
wondering what could drive him
to attempt the summit.

When I glance back with this question in mind,
my eyes drop to the legend on the red tee shirt:
I'm hiking for the National Cancer Foundation


I caught sight of the man
on route to the mountain's summit.
He carried with him a recycled Coke bottle
secured to a small pack.

He was heading upward.
He was on a mission.

-Niall Janney

Autobiography in Five Short Chapters

Chapter 1
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost...I am helpless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

Chapter 2
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I'm in this same place.
But it isn't my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.

Chapter 3
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it there.
I still fall in...it's a habit...but,
my eyes are open
I know where I am
It is my fault.
I get out immediately,

Chapter 4
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

Chapter 5
I walk down another street.

-Portia Nelson

Helen Keller

She,
In the dark,
Found light
Brighter than many ever see.
She,
Within herself,
Found loveliness,
Through the soul's own mastery.
And now the world receives
From her dower:
The message of the strength
Of inner power.

-Langston Hughes

My Room

My room
My Haven
My block of peace
in a hectic world

My room
My personal disaster area
of piled clothing and blaring music
of comfortable chaos

My room
My harbor of fantasies
"Gee whiz, Ace, what kinda room is this?" asked Ace Detective's sidekick
"I don't know," Ace replied, "but I like it"

My room
My ongoing rationalization
Joe's brain: Joe's room is messy
Joe: What's new?

My room
My responsibility
the subject of many
"Go Clean Yours"

My room
My prison
the subject of many
"Go to Yours"

My room
My cubicle of terror
zone of nightmares
shelter of my angst

My room
My haven
My organized chaos
My ongoing rationalization
My responsibility
My harbor of fantasies
My prison
My terror
My block of peace
in a hectic world

-Joe Powning