MPitS - Mendocino High School

MPitS

Mendocino High School

2007/2008

Love for a Star

The morning star

still twinkles like a diamond

even though it is a dark lonely day.

The coal black raven croaks in desperation

in the misty rain, asking the glowing star,

"Will you forgive me and teach me to glisten?"

The raven yearns to be free of his black cloak

Glistening beauty never replies to his call,

being banned from him for all eternity,

like the red rose from the puffy cloud of white

vaguely visible on a cloudless day

Red petals turn into wings and fly to the cloud

for he taught her how to fly

Red petals turn into red lips

that meet that of the raven's dark soul;

and die.

"Forgive me, rare beauty in the sky,

for putting your glorious stardust in a jar."

For the raven is a reflection

of a poor boy who fell in love with a star.

Emma Havens
Mendocino High School
Ilona Marcello, Poet Teacher

Always and Forever

"Be with me always" says the dolphin to mars

in its tall tailed ways, with a tulip covered in

ladybugs handed softly to the luminous giant

and as the sparrow sings to a best friend

the lights show their glory in the confusion

of night when none shall be missed

while the time keeps turning round and in a small

bright park in Fiji a butterfly gives to me

its small salty wing with a love ever growing

growing, as a clear ruby stream gurgling evermore

as maples teach sea anemones that where does not

matter but how might be difficult

so mars slowly accepts the invitation of love

with a growing gratitude and the time of life

comes from streams and brooks, always singing

softly, gurgling in the time passing by

Anna Orans
Mendocino High School
Ilona Marcello, Poet Teacher

Answers

The Moroccan red streets didn't give me

a longing for the beginning of meaning.

            I stood in front of that blank verse

            and tried to unscramble the past.

The wallpaper cut smoothly around the

embroidered fabric revealing the tip of

            the artist's paintbrush, didn't help

            either. The glittered drainpipes

leaking shadows onto the littered streets

gave time power and friendship, it

            unleashed the hope that I held

            in me, like the faint whisper

of the sunlit moon. Laughter became

my soul and I could hold the Earth in

            my palm, I could crawl through

            the folds of my imagination, and

turn my back on fear. I was a

recipe for courage, just walking

            the streets of existence.

Cari Nordahl
Mendocino High School
Ilona Marcello, Poet Teacher

The White Sandals

She lost her shoes, the white sandals

with the curved toe. The white sheets,

soft as feathers, blowing in the wind.

Golden delicious apples and clothes pins

hidden in the corners.

Shafts of light over the carpet,

dust like golden filaments. The burgundy

roses growing on the roof.

The sound of rain against tin.

Clover and foxgloves.

Father's warm rough hands.

Radio voices in the afternoon

rusty bathtubs and small sinks. Lost in the past.

Ripe tomatoes warm from the sun

Sand in a yellow shovel, vast possibilities.

Snails racing slowly on a wooden deck.

Lost but found. Goldfish in a shady

pond. Salty tears and quiet desperation.

Finding yourself again and again, finding and

lifting the weight that

pulls the strings of your heart down.

Innocent and wise.

Live in the present. Rough words

and consolation. Lost but found.

Sonya Berchen
Mendocino High School
Ilona Marcello, Poet Teacher

I am a Poet

I am a poet, a 15 year old poet

My father is home, my mother is in jail

and I am a poet

The poet in me wants to write,

write,

write,

write,

write, but

where's the time,

School?

NO, class isn't over

Home?

NO, too much homework

In my sleep? NO!

NO NO NO NO

I am a poet, I have to have time

when, where, how, why.

Why because I am a poet

a 15 year old poet

Marietta McKee
Mendocino High School
Ilona Marcello, Poet Teacher

A Letter to the Past

Hark!

Dear boy & open your eyes to the world.

I remember the thoughts,

the carelessness that binds you.

Embrace it,

always,

but heed these words of ours.

Treat each day,

as a new day,

and a lifetime of it's own.

Tim Johnson
Mendocino High School
Ilona Marcello, Poet Teacher

Thoughts

I saw objects creaking open

They fail to catch my mind

Of floating rain tasting like disappointment

They speak in wispy golden syllables

Pretending to be truth

They can't wake me as I fall asleep

To my drunk facing a wall

I breathe beads and dragons

I laugh like rain as I saw

The snow curling in a ball towards my face

Paper-thin curls shake the mirror around

My face

Afraid to touch the paper with truth

Because I am a paper doll

I splatter this life with swimming orange

Peeled light

That is how I will leave

And the wind for once will feel a change

From me

Because

I bring scissors

Kayla Brittingham
Mendocino High School
Ilona Marcello, Poet Teacher

Stopping Short

She left with the autumn leaves

Her heart pulsating with the sound of her feet

Not choosing was her choice

The ending taste bitter and sad

Her heart pulsating with the sound of her feet

Her feet trampling a path in the gravel

The ending taste bitter and sad

The beginning would be joyous

Her feet trampling a path in the gravel

Giving the choice a chance to catch up

The beginning would be joyous

Once she found a way to plant the seeds

Giving the choice a chance to catch up

She left with the autumn leaves

Once she found a way to plant the seeds

Not choosing was her choice

Margie Muto
Mendocino High School
Ilona Marcello, Poet Teacher

Ode to Photographs

Pale faces

            Against a cardboard sky.

A child sings among the daisies.

I place this one on the bottom of the stack

            And admire the next one that is

Revealed.

Two stones and a simple smile.

            One hand in the pocket, the other hand caressing a

Broken kettle.

Light,

            Silver white against the shades of black,

Settles above the eyebrows of someone who was happy then.

The next one

            is curled on the edges

And worn with tender affection.

Tears have long since drowned the memory of this sailor lost at sea.

            Sunlight and hope fills the eyes of the youth,

Imbued with sweet contentment.

There are more,

            Some faded, others torn.

They live on through thunder storms and coffee stains.

Decades of laughter, desire, pain, love, hatred,

            Spattered before me

On a canvas of black and white.

Trees stand like proud angels above new houses,

            Birthday candles,

Are placed on a round cake.

Babies cry and mothers coo.

            Someone blows a kiss to an unseen desire.

A woman stands rigid, unsmiling in a corset.

I hold these delicate slivers of thought in my bird-song hands

            And think of all the heart songs behind these faded masks.

Someone is walking up the stairs.

I jam the photographs back into the sunshine tattered box

            And shove it under

The tired old rocking chair.

Dust dances in the sepia light

            As I rise from the

Floor.

Allsion McMillan
Mendocino High School
Ilona Marcello, Poet Teacher

Untitled

Overwhelmed

Consumed by a dark solid fog

It all started with confusion

Left silently screaming

Consumed by a dark solid fog

Emotions colliding loudly like clouds

Left silently screaming

Drowning in a black water torrent

Emotions colliding loudly like clouds

The fragile thread of sanity crumbles

Drowning in a black water torrent

Chaos consumes, pulsing and swirling

The fragile thread of sanity crumbles

Overwhelmed

Chaos consumes, pulsing and swirling

It all started with confusion
Julia G. Harener
Mendocino High School
Ilona Marcello, Poet Teacher

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