MPitS - Point Arena Charter School

MPitS

Point Arena Charter High School
2009/2010

The Acting Interior

And we place our five fingers back into our pockets
Because it’s cold back here
In the dark, at the beginning of everything
Their voices putter to a halt, a silence, a purr

To face the red X’s is hard enough
But to taste the salty tears
I must have been close enough
To find her delicate sorrow and calm her fumbling hands
Under this high ceiling, against these black chairs
Upon this golden floor
As the shinning dust under the lights, floats away

A dress I could have worn all night
Into this summer last
Two braids wound round and round my thumb
When tears met eyes and smiles
When words flowed from anticipation
Just like I had wished for

In the lonely, greying amphitheater
Where phantoms roam my mind
And the black depths of my coat
Were the only source of warmth
Against the clouded sky

To escape this world is simple.

Savannah
Grade 10, Pacific Community Charter HS
Blake More, Poet Teacher

It’s a road trip!

Life is a road trip
There’s a set goal
That map spread across the table
Ideas + Excitement + expectations being thrown around
The plan
Laid out for you at the beginning
People telling you what you should do
How you should do it
Where to go
Because you’re going on a road trip

You miss that exit
Turn left too soon
Forget to read that sign two years ago that’s
Deciding to cause problems now
Now you’re not lost, just momentarily misplaced
You can either get out of the mess up or
Have a little fun with it
It might take you somewhere you didn’t know was there
Land in some unknown nowhere land where you can start to
Pave your own highway
Cause your life’s a road trip

It’s your choice to ride in style and comfort
Knowing you will hit your destination
Or you can risk it in an old fixer-upper
Knowing that it might take you somewhere else
At least with a fixer-upper
You can fix it to your liking
Custom
Unique
Original
It’s your road trip

Choose your jam and rock out to it
And that will make your tires roll
Cuz that’s how you roll
But be careful not to roll to a sketchy place and if you do
Act cool and you’ll find a way out in time
Blend in and don’t let them know you unconscientiously feel a bit out of place
Just roll through!
Try not to let those fibbing eyes look in the rearview mirror
Hit the gas pedal to go forward
Come on it’s a road trip

Along the way you may get caught in a few storms
And the sky might shed a few tears
So just use the windshield wipers to wash them away
And get through it
Force a smile
You’re on a road trip!!

Joselyn
Grade 10, Pacific Community Charter HS
Blake More, Poet Teacher

Untitled

there are no knuckleheads here. they are comfortable in their own skin. they are men, men who care... men plus care equals men care which gives them a reason to sing in the shower, with a title on the line, this body wash increases the intensity because when pugs fly they bring a change to the air. this is not reality, its actuality... they made bold gambles to finally make it here... its what everyone has been waiting for ......these players prepare for something great... something super...
a chance to qualify for a $1500 tax credit at pella.... replace your windows and doors at pella now. Its time to play!

Jasper
Grade 9, Pacific Community Charter HS
Blake More, Poet Teacher

Becoming the Hunger

Hunger has suddenly hooked
onto my muscles.
My bone fingers are malnourished.

These fingers escape me as they
race towards alleyways, stranger’s backs, and that old lot
where I never kissed him.

I swear.

My opalescent nails
whisper into my mouth, caging
verbs and adjectives in my throat
spitting out curses and sweet nothings
like I know just what the f---
I’m talking about.

And the grooves of my flesh begin
to rise up
maniacal in their want for my acceptance
my proof that they tell a story
even if it’s only a blink long.

I am more than these claws, these
Stagnant appendages, yet I can’t see past
My blue horizon veins
Past their songs of pumping my desire
Until I catch it
Hold it tight
Until I'm sure that once it’s released
The hunger eating my marrow clean
Will stagger under the weight of gravity
Catching itself
As I step away.

Morgen
Grade 10, Pacific Community Charter HS
Blake More, Poet Teacher

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