In Search of a Song Volume 760

8/4/2019 In Search of a Song Volume 760

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Lindsay

Allenbrook


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A Waterways Project

Publication

Richard Spiegel

Barbara Fisher

codirectors

Thomas Perry

administrative assistant

Chris Lehmann and Joe Trancelliti

Teachers

Beacon High School

Steve Stoll

Principal

Richard Organisciak

Superintendent

Alternative, Adult and Continuing Education

Schools & Programs

2000 Ten Penny Players

with funding support from

the NY State Council on the Arts

GraceVella


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Blue

You look me in the eyes,and you tell me we're different.You say we can't talk,because my skin is the color of peaches and cream,and yours like chocolate milk.You tell me that because my people

used to put chains on yours,and tell them what to do,that we don't belong together.But I sit and look right back at you,your eyes an ocean of brown,I look and I see so much,

so much inside of you.I tell you that was then and this is now,and I tell you that if your skinwas blue as all the blueberries in the world,I would still want to be your friend.You stare at me for awhile,

then you say that I don't understand the problem.You tell me how the blue people never were tor-

tured by the white,

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and that the brown people were.Then you walk away,and I watch you disappear slowly, never to come

back again.

Caught Up In The Leaves

She is like a coat on a cold winter dayShe keeps me warmBut sometimes she ripsA thin slit in the side of my jacketLetting all the cold air blow right in

It's a surprise at firstAnd I try sewing up the holeOr covering it with some tape

But the next day I go back out

Back into that January snowThe kind that makes a funny crunchy noiseWhen my feet hit it

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I go back out and the tape blows awayFalls off in front of my eyesAnd I watch as it hits a treeAnd gets caught up in the leaves

Each day I go out and the coat rips one more timeLeaving it so I can't wear it anymore

So I take the coat and store it in my closetI bury it under all my old thingsMy ripped up jeansMy too small shirtsI store away my coat with all my other things

But I know one day I'll take it outOne day I'll need it again

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We're All Talking Fast

I rememberMany different things.Good and bad.Some memories come to meAnd I just remember.Sometimes I don't know

What I am remembering.

But remembering this is easy,Coming home,Walking in the door.

I remember having this feelingThat bad newsIs about to flyOut of some ones mouth,Escape and maybe never come back.

Why were my parents home so early?My sister wasn't home yet,But we sit and quietly wait,

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My sister walks in.And they tell us.The tears spring out,And we realize its true,A separation.For my happy family?My happy parents?

And now,I'm so happyBecause at the end of this month,He's coming back.And you can tell,everyone's excited,

And we're all talking fast.

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Its just begun to get quiet after so much noise.And I wonder where mom is,Because yesterday she went out to get milkAnd she never came back.I'm getting tired of eating dry cereal.And my mouth is dry from nothing to drinkBecause the waters off.

I'm thinking maybe if I hold a cup perfectlyunder the leak

I can get some water,But then I think of how the girls in class,

With the pretty blond hairWould laugh at me if I did that.And I think of mom's thick brown hairAnd I wonder where she is,Because the line at the store is never long.And then I think of dad and I wonder where he is,

Because mom just said he went away.Then she stopped and left the room.

And now I'm thinking of my best friend, Ruth,

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And how I haven't seen her in school for a week,And she's never sick.I'm thinking of how lucky she isBecause my mom would never let me miss a day

of school.But where is my mom?

And now I just finished the last of the cerealAnd I'm still hungry, I'm thirsty too.And I'm thinking of holding my cup under the leakTo get some water,But then I think of how the girls in class,With the pretty blond hairWould laugh at me if I did that.

So I don't.

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Queen Of The HouseThanks to Wallace Stevens

Queen of the house with superiority to boastA smirk like a mouse, stop!

Damned silly emotions, as if my feelingsWere reasons to care or hear my point of view.

Play! Play! Play! Play! I am kept silentYour world is a game. I am the serious one.

You video game among the novels. Play!Be gone! We smile in this house,

Smile, and compete our knowledge,And fear not Queen of the house, nor her games.

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Thanks to Lucille Clifton

What I think of when I look at youIs the summer sun hitting your faceAnd the silly games we used to playAnd that old photo I have of us at the beachAnd us, laughingSinging stupid songsThankful to have you for a sister

Nothing about your angry eyesNothing about your sad eyes

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Drifter

Go!

You said you were lost in a sea of emotionsBut I am lost in a tidal waveLost in a flood,And drowning

You covered me with a blanketAnd killed my thoughtsI am choking

You tell me to hurry up,

I take too long to say a simple thing.I'm a dreamer.I'm a drifter.

My thoughts are in the back of my headHiding from you and the front of me.

Stop!

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Struggling Eyes

Staringat the TVthe eyes are an oceanwith no depth or meaning to ityou'll drown

MaybeI should try toDo something and save youFrom another world where you willBe lost.

Like My Mom

My handsare like my momswith cuts on each fingermy hands will be scarred forever

always

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My Cheshire Cat

My mom reads to meWe read "Runaway Bunny"If I ever ran awayShe would find me.If she ran awayI'd find her,

If I didn'tI would cry forever.She would never,Never run away.She is not like that,She has no disappointments.

When I think of her,I think of smiling,I think of jokes.When I think of her,I think ofThe laugh lines around her eyes.

She always laughs,Like a Cheshire cat.

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Me and my mom,We wrote our own "Runaway Bunny"We called it "Runaway Mommy."I can't write,So she did that part,And I illustrated it.We laughed.

I found "Runaway Mommy"About a month ago.Now I look back and I laugh.I show her "Runaway Mommy"And we laugh.She always laughs,

Like a Cheshire cat.

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Never Ending Fight

This is a never ending fight,

I feel lost, I want to hide,We wont let ourselves give in to fright.

We build ourselves to a higher height,Only to be washed up in the tide,This is a never ending fight.

We want to be the one to see the light,But we end up getting pushed to the side,We wont let ourselves give in to fright.

We must be the one who is right,We can't let ourselves be disqualified,

This is a never ending fight.

Our eyes have to be the ones with the best sight,We always are unsatisfied,We wont let ourselves give in to fright.

Our anger is like dynamite,

We must cause the others to become terrified.This is a never ending fight.We wont let ourselves give in to fright.

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Hands

Soft hands,Stroking long brown hair.Soft beautiful hands.

Unlike my own handsWhich are full of sin,

With cuts on every finger.My own hands,Which give into a million temptations.

My own hands are controlled by the devil,They follow his orders

And do exactly as he says.

I feel very bitter,When I look at the soft hands stroking the long

brown hair,They are probably controlled by the lord.

He created those hands,To follow his orders,Those soft beautiful hands.

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My hands are the enemy,With their ragged nails.The enemy to the soft beautiful hands.My hands are the devil,The enemy to the Lord.

New York Haiku

It is cold outsideThe man walks and looks aroundHe takes out his phone

The man sips his coffee

The lady glances overShe shivers and blinks

The snow takes overPeople bend their heads down lowThe man drops his phone

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A Few Steps Behind

I am behind you

On this long walkI am only a few steps behindYet it has made all the difference

From this angleI can see you

But you can't see meI can observe youBut you can't observe meI see each smudge of dirtOn the back of your jacketBut you can't see the rips

On the back of mineYou begin to walk slowerNow I am next to youI want to be behind you againBut now I am in front of you

I wonder if you seeAll the details in meThat I saw in youAre you closely watching

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Each move I make?I liked it whenI could see you

And you couldn't see meAnd nowI can't see you

Maybe you didn't likeThe rips in my jacket

Or the way I walkedBecause nowYou are walking fasterYou are trying to get past meSo I walk slower and let you pass

And nowI guess it is betterFor both of us.Because you don't have to see the ripsIn my jacketAnd I can see the smudgesOn yours.

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Change The Recipe

"When I say sun, you say moon"Says my mom smiling.She says that's what her mom,Used to say to her.But she saysShe didn't disagree with her mom

Half as much as I do with her.

"HA, ha, ha"Scream my friends,Falling to the floor in laughterAfter hearing one of my crazy jokes,

Saved only for them.

"You're weird"Says my sisterAfter I tell her a joke.I sigh,

Reminding myself to neverLet her in on one of my jokes again,She doesn't get it.

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"Good work"Says my teacher"I can tell you are thinking a lot,But share your thoughts with the class more"I smile and nodLike I always do.I don't mention any of theThousands of thoughts rushingThrough my head.I'm doing exactlyWhat I get criticized for.

"You're smarter than you think"Say my parents

And I sit still smiling,Hoping its true.

"Don't talk so fast"Say my friendsWhile I tell them an opinion

Of mine.Maybe I talk so fastBecause I'm worried if I talk slowPeople will actually hear me,

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"Change the recipe"Says my dad,While cooking."Food is always better that way"I agreeNot only in foodBut in everything.I always try to change the recipe.

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Pink And Purple Dyes

You cover yourselfWith something elseLike pink and purple dyesYou never take the time that's neededTo push it all aside

I'm trying to see beyond it allI try looking in your eyesThey are filled with tearsAnd I am scaredThat soon you'll begin to cry

You keep yourself bundled upLike a huge lieI look you in the eyesAnd I begin to sigh

If I'm never able

To see the real youI feel likeI will die.

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In Search of a SongVolume 760

A Waterways Project Publication1999-2000

In Search of a Song Volume 760

Documents

Transcript of In Search of a Song Volume 760