Fall 2000 Webslam, Round 3 Volley #1, November 13 - November 16 (Choose only 1 and respond to it) We use our five senses daily, but often don't stop to examine just how significant a part of our lives they are. Choose one of the five senses and write a poem relating to it. See if you can dig past the obvious and find something that speaks to you. LOOKING - Look at someone or something and describe what you see as clearly as possible. Or be unclear in what you are seeing. Perhaps you are seeing something entirely imagined or from a dream. Try and help the reader to see it, too. TOUCHING - Write a poem in which your tactile sense plays an important part. For example, what is it like to be patted on the back-by a parent, teacher, sweetheart? What is it like to be touched if you don't want to be touched? What does it feel like to hug your dog or pat your horse? SMELLING - Many people have strong memory associations that are triggered by smell. Perhaps we remember someone who had lilac bushes in her yard. Or who wore a certain perfume. Perhaps we are moved by the smell of rain on the often-arid New Mexico earth. Not to mention piñon fires or chili roasting in late summer. TASTING - Is taste simply related to food? Have you ever put your tongue on a cold railing in the winter? Chewed on a halter strap? Tasted another person's face? Of course, there are always Gramma's cookies, too. LISTENING - Sound plays a huge part in our lives. Many of us form our identities based on the kinds of music we like; some live their whole lives in thrall of the emotional highs experienced listening to music. But sound also is the voice of someone we love or not. It is the dog next door barking in the middle of the night. Sky-dome Loves Silver Best Overhead, Sky-dome is always watching: Yet what strikes me most about him Is that his several emotions each smell different. Sky-dome is flawlessly happy Blue is a faint fragrance: Blue-berry as though from a patch beyond the hill. In open air, weekdays smell unique. Each scent a subtle undertone: Monday is alcohol, Wednesday aspirin. Brooding Angrily, he prepares a thunderstorm. There is no smell just like this: He is heavy with a kind of cold perspiration. His faith is renewed every day at dawn. For at that instant Sunrise is the pure breeze on mountain peaks. Sky-dome abandons day in splendor. Sunset is a passion for him: Not the smell of smoke, but of fire. At night, Sky-dome holds the silver coin. Perhaps it is because he loves Silver best that full moons are perfumed lilies. -Colin McIlvoy, Las Cruces High School (Rating: 9.40 Votes: 2) Pink Floyd's on the stereo I'm not sure I want to be here. School's always so mundane. If I close my eyes, Their voices will carry me I'll float on a sea of music, With drums for the rhythm of the Waves. Pink Floyd's on the stereo School's always so mundane. The teacher's watching us write; She hates it when we talk. I'm not sure this is the assignment I should be working on. The singer's asking questions; I'm dying to answer I bet the teacher wishes I paid This much attention in class. But with life being so dull, Music is my brain. Pink Floyd's on the stereo, Inspiration for our journals. The first time I heard Pink Floyd on the stereo Was in my daddy's car, And he taught me to sing along. I'm supposed to be working; Does this count? I could listen all day. I am my parents' child. My memories are all tied to music. Mom would sing to me. Dad would blare Pink Floyd, AC/DC. I knew the words before I could walk, A baby crawling, Singing "Comfortably numb." My memories flood me when this music plays Thoughts of an earlier day. I could sing "Tears of a Clown" at six "Why do Fools Fall in Love?" before Then. Mom used to bounce me in time to the melody Holding me on her knee. Pink Floyd's on the stereo Making my memories reemerge When I should be working. If I close my eyes, I'll see myself as a baby, My brother's singing. Pink Floyd's on the stereo. I'm supposed to be working. -Angel Cherryholmes, St. Pius X (Rating: 9.25 Votes: 2) Desert Night Standing in a desert forest at dusk One can close their eyes and absorb the gentle sound of a forest going to sleep Ignoring the forest's wildly intoxicating scent You can take in a whole other world. You can hear the gentle sound of the trees blowing back and forth in a gentle gust of wind, whispering to each other. From somewhere, perhaps near, the call of a jay pierces the slowly fading twilight. It's overwhelming, drowning one in the sweet serenity of nature's song, as the soft summer night blankets the mountains. And it seems as though, if you listen carefully enough, you can hear the moon rise. Just as you think you can hear it, its sound is lost forever in the cry of a coyote. -Bobbi Duncan, Rio Rancho High School (Rating: 9.10 Votes: 2) My Grandmother's Garage Past the musk, aside from the mold, there is a scent. A car carrying the scent from Maine, A painting, with a distinct pine scent from Canada. The barely noticable hint of lilac, which used to decorate her shelves. The strong, putrid smell of the family of mice who lived in the wall. The scent of motor oil stains. The puppies born there years before. Scents lost, but still alive. Veiled in the musk, behind the molds rich scent, Memories. -Robert Lang, Rio Rancho High School (Rating: 9.10 Votes: 2) Listen Listen to the morning, gravid, waiting, Winter, before it turns to Spring. Listen to the sunrise, steady, constant, A sorcerer awakening the souls below. Listen to the people, starting, arising, A flower already in full bloom. Listen to the geese, determined, majestic, Flying to a destination no one knows. Listen to the music, symphonic, angelic, Listen to the message without words. Listen to the classroom, active, alive, Frisky young kittens at play. Listen to the train, solitary, alone, The cry of a wolf from afar. Listen to the silence, plentiful, sincere, Look into this mirror for abundance. Listen to the sunset, noble, reminding, reflecting the events of the day. Listen to the evening, somber, soothing, calming those within its comfort. Listen to the day, simple, joyous, unite its splendor to your life. -Sean McVey, Clayton High School (Rating: 8.90 Votes: 1) A Blind Man's Tale Oil covers my vision, black and crude, A darkness that is always seen, A darkness that is familiar to me. It clouds my vision, so I may never see. I hear the beautiful song of the bluebird, And I ask myself, 'what creature could make such music?' But alas, I turn my head to find a blanket of night The song is forever heard, but never seen. My hand walks across a wet surface; I bring it to my lips, tasting the sweet water. I ask, 'what does this sweet wetness look like?' But I see a shadow of the reality I tried to see. My hands and tongue I shall never see. I smell an aroma that I identify with pie. I stumble to a window, and still I see nothing, But I can smell the pie cooling on the windowsill, A fragrance I shall never see. I wish I could see, to no longer live in the night. I want to know what the clouds look like on a spring day. I want to see my friends, to run without help. I am denied all these things because of my cursed vision. I am denied because I am blind. -James Klarkowski, St. Pius X (Rating: 8.90 Votes: 1) The Dream I've Never Had In the dream I've never had I lay on my back in a field full of sunflowers watching the clouds move across the blue sky with my father laying next to me humming an old Willie Nelson song. I can feel his strong arms wrap around me in a bear hug and his callused hand wiping away the tears that run down my cheeks. In the dream I never had the monsters hide under my bed and my mother sweeps them away with her magic broom. I can feel her strong and reassuring hug and her light kiss on my forehead while she brushes the hair off my face while I sleep. In the morning we play hide-and-seek in the cornfields. In the dream I've never had my father is not whispering "I kill you." His rough hands are not running along my soft flesh. In this dream he is the way a father should be, nice, strong, dependable, loving. He sings those old country songs with a smile and I am not afraid. In the dream I've never had my mother is not afraid of my father. She has no bruis! es, there is no blood. She is brave and strong like she used to be. She holds me and whispers "I love you." In this dream, I whisper back "I love you, too." -Katie Eyer, Onate High (Rating: 8.85 Votes: 2) Listening To Your Useless Information Listening To the Useless Information You give me mindlessly and insanely intolerant jealousy. My bent love for you is an absent and unsent felony. Question my opinions, make your transitions. Your cold cunning ways bewilder my ambitions. In your veins run every enmity, every enemy trait, Breaking my fragile filtered life to a sorrowful ending fate. Our love is like a hexagon of horridly scattered thoughts of hate The vibration of your sweet seducing words come along far too late. I’ll always reminisce our relationship, a huge confession: First was attention, then obsession, and finally possession. I hated the feeling of dilapidation, While listening to your useless information. No more is there revenging retention, No more working towards perfection. You are insignificant with your insouciance intentions. There’s no more counting corrections with fear of rejections, Pretending to care about your nagging reactions. You’ve momentarily made me feel frantically stupid. I honestly can’t afford to sit here so mentally morbid. So I willingly want to withdraw from your whirl, Hoping, maybe, you’re tardy translucent love will unfurl. I can’t remand, so I demand a dismiss. Our latest love is something I’ll never miss. This is a poem I wrote based on the sounds words make coordinated with their meaning. -Kimberly Laster, Onate High (Rating: 8.75 Votes: 2) Fall on Deaf Ears Swaying Maples forget to rustle In the Autumn breeze-- Their harvest leaves don't crunch Under my heavy tread. The bubbles in the tub hiss a vacant fizzle. The giddy pop of champagn on New Year's Eve is lost, And the booming voices in this crowded Room are mute. I breathe with a heavy absent sigh While the wailing of sirens fill the Night air with silence. -Lisa Brown, Las Cruces High School (Rating: 8.55 Votes: 2) Grandpa His hand clutches mine, the cool clamminess fills me with dread, knowing he won't be here much longer. He grips the same hand he once helped pull colla out of, the hand that held mine as I trundled two steps behind, looking up at his wrinkled face and gray-blue eyes. Mixed feelings tear my young soul. His cold hand, his hand that can't feel. I open my eyes and look in his blind ones, so similar to mine. I pull away from his unfeeling body, hoping he will soon be happy again. -James Hausman, Santa Fe Preparatory School (Rating: 8.35 Votes: 2) Dream I see an island With green, tall trees And flowers bursting in blues, pinks, and reds Purple birds and orange butterflies With brown bunnies and sparkling white unicorns All together Sharing, Sharing food and space. While I walk I see crystal-clear water rushing in a waterfall A little girl, Receiving a white rose from a reindeer Then I start to fly And I walk on the fluffy, white clouds I see the bright, yellow sun And the blue sky above Then I see an angel Staring at me Smiling at me With his white long wings, All dressed in white A luminous gold halo Above his dark black hair His eyes as blue as the sky. We sit together on a cloud Looking: the entire world beneath us No problems to be seen. -Patricia Armendariz, Animas High School (Rating: 8.30 Votes: 1) Blind Faith I have but one small request It's a simple prayer tonight I simply ask that God above Will see to take away our sight There would be no more prejudice Of clothes or size or skin We'd be less apt to look outside And more to concentrate within In the kingdom of the blind The one-eyed man is king But if the one-eyed man is blind as well Who will fight such a thing? It's the words inside that count Not the cover of the book Would that we judged by knowing one Instead of that one first look So as I lay me down to sleep I ask with heart and mind Tonight, dear God, hear my prayer Reach down and make us blind -Todd Podzemny, Clayton High School (Rating: 8.20 Votes: 1) Mountain Range Remembrance Mountain Range Remembrance Fresh pine, damp earth, lightly smoked,The smell that overwhelms me when I step outside my tent.Morning time in the Organs,Lingers on my father's collar.The whole mountain range just for meWhen I curl up in my father's lap.I hug the sky, the campfire, and homemade beef jerky,When I close my arms around him.His rough, callused hands were tokens of hard work.But work is the last thing on our minds When his weathered hand meets my soft oneAnd, smiling, we cross busy streets.Salty, fat tears run down my face And there is no finger to wipe them away.Gone are the mountain range bear hugs,Dead are the times we held hands.Yet sometimes when I turn off my light and close my eyesI feel my father stroke my hair,And whisper so only I can hear,"I am still with you…" -Tamara Bryan, Onate High (Rating: 8.20 Votes: 2) No Touch Like Yours Your touch calms my storm. With just one hand, you make your way down my arm. Gently massage my senses. Glide your hand softly, bring comfort to mine. Your soft, pale skin brings harmony to my rough, coarse integument. My troubles and worries show in my hands, no longer delicate and groomed to perfection. They bear the coarseness of sandpaper. Slowly, you bring moisture to them, mend my wounds, water my scars. -Janel Irvin, Onate High (Rating: 8.10 Votes: 2) Her Eyes I look into her eyes, and I see nothing. If I stare harder, I can see blackened lump of rock Burning inside, spreading it's fire like a disease. I can still see the once brightly burning light That once lit up her eyes and made them beautiful. But all I see now are eyes. I turn and look into Her eyes, and see so much more than the familiar light. I see a melee of color deep within Her eyes. I see a light that shines brighter than the sun. I see Him. -Mike Price, Clayton High School (Rating: 8.10 Votes: 1) proud percusssion proud percussion belts out furious force resounding over the dis tance incredibly steady strikes ferociously pound upon the steel of strings subtle inconsistencies in his voice reveal the extent of his emotion "Hey, sister bleeding heart, with all of your compassion, your labors soothe the hurt, but can't assuage temptation." profound words weight with purpose echo a greater meaning tenacious intent and melodic harmonies collide producing an uneasy feeling of comfort -Richard Jimenez, Onate High (Rating: 8.05 Votes: 2) Tasting I never wanted to taste anything-- not even my life. I asked myself, "Why should I?" I never wanted to taste anything-- not even a pina colada. I asked myself, "Why should I?" I never wanted to taste anything-- not even your lips. I asked myself, "Why should I?" But I took the time to do it today, to experience taste. Tasting my life is good. Life is sweet. Tasting a Pina Colada was great. The taste is smooth. But tasting your lips is the greatest thing. They tasted sweet, smooth, and juicy. -Luz Maria Armedariz, Animas High School (Rating: 8.00 Votes: 1) Amber Looking At Me Look at my face What do you see? Is it backwards as I see myself looking at my mirrored reflection? Or is it pure and really me? When you look in me eyes do you slip back in time to the origin of where I once was? Are you sure you really see me and not just the first layer waiting to be peeled off only to reveal several more? You scratch and scrape with your eyes as open as they'll go But you fail to see what is really there because you don't know me and you probably don't care. Your eyes a looking glass that twist me into what I am not and could never be. You see what you get and get what you see But not if you look only at what is there in front of your lenses magnified and distorted. You must look naked and bare in order to find that which you thought could never be there, what it is to be looking at me. -Amber Woods, Santa Fe Preparatory School (Rating: 8.00 Votes: 1) Dying Life My body burns, waves of heat sear my flesh,Pain floods my thought, tears my mind with agony,I try to raise my head, but my pain keeps it grounded,The sensation of thousands of needles punctures my flesh,Rips apart my life at every small twitch.Acid courses through my veins,Making even my blood boil.My skin stretches, tears apart from my torment,Nerves snap as every fiber of my being is being spread,Veins burst, the blood, now boiling, dissolves my flesh,Racking my very soul with such pain as shearsCutting my essence in twain.Knives of pure thought slice into my brain, Tears well up and blind my vision, turning my retinas into ash.My body erupts, the remains of flesh disintegrateIn the cold, harsh air. All of my former self is now Ashes, only my essence remains, Now I walk, not in life, but in death. -Alvin R. Abbott III, Onate High (Rating: 7.95 Votes: 2) The Realization It claws up my throat, rusty metal barbs soft with warm pink mucus. I clench my teeth in hard bone walls of fear as It rises. It twines about my tongue, lacivious serpent of furious acid, keening with silent hatred. I swallow against It, a cold runny ball of desperate, ineffective saliva. It puddles in my cheeks, puckering the flaccid flesh into a grotesque snarl of happy ignorance. It cannot be stopped; It cannot be contained; It cannot be denied, It can never be denied. It parts my teeth, my lips, with bloodied, frenzied paws and laughs into the static. The echo never dies. Some call It the God, some call It the Id, some call It the Soul. We have all of us tasted the horror of our own Humanity. -Jo Schumacher, Las Cruces High School (Rating: 7.90 Votes: 2) We see yet we do not! We see yet we do not as we look upon the outside and never notice anything deeper for we simply see, what we want to see As we look upon a person we notice their roughened skin yet we seem to miss the gentleness of their soul To close your eyes and touch upon their unique face will simply broaden your perception of what they hold inside While you touch upon their face run your fingers by each wrinkle and scar and try to reason for their being as you begin to know their past now to reach a little deeper and open your ears and heart while you begin to simply listen of stories that will forever last Listen to their gentle tone whle they fill you with their words and begin to gain the knowledge that you can soon claim your own Now as you slowly open your eyes you will soon begin to understand that you truely seen the inner side for now you seen into their soul -Jennifer Parkinson, West Las Vegas High School (Rating: 7.90 Votes: 2) Scuff Marks The bottoms grooved like majestic plateaus Valleys cloyed with mud and grass. Fused layers of rubber, sedimentary rocks. Leather bumpy like gravel roads On country fields. Slithering black snakes interlock Twisting into an intricate bow, floppy with lack of muscle. Silver-lined holes like windows in A great ship's hull, bouncing with the fluid movements. Tongues of ebony lick the snakes Lying prone on inclining cotton fields. Catapuled, sunken like graceful dolphins. -Christi Stack, Las Cruces High School (Rating: 7.85 Votes: 2) please be quiet. Chatter. Audible whispers and inaudible shouts-- either way incompetent. Scratching of dry skin, muffled crack of joints. Slurping? Why? There is nothing to drink. Monotone inquiries yield meaningless answers-- every answer yield a question. Clock ticking, teens wasting, window banging, boys punching, paper tearing. Tears welling, me not moving, hating them for living, wish they'd just leave me alone. -mateo gutierrez, Las Cruces High School (Rating: 7.85 Votes: 2) Without Your Touch I can't remember what it's like to feel anything. You left me alone, wounded, naked to this sun that burns scars upon the soul, upon my flesh. Touch, this sensory feeling, is lost to me, beyond my grasp since you walked away. All my emotions have become numb, inanimate, paralyzed, without your love to guide. Everything I touch feels dead, lifeless, surreal, nothing seems the same since you left. I try to move past all these illusions I have made to get away from your memory that plagues my mind. Illusions built up like a wall, surrounding, engulfing my very being, eating away at the soul which I am trying to hide. All I can understand is this pain, this unrequited aching, this longing for you. What do I do when I know it is your touch that can bring me out of this requiem, this hell I put myself into? All I know is that I will never be set free, these numbed feelings will remain until I can feel you near once more. It will never happen I know for sure, but until then, I shall be waiting wanting to feel your touch once again. -Nida Stewart, St. Pius X (Rating: 7.80 Votes: 1) Christmas Scents Cinnamon aroma fills the air with anticipation. Fragrances of Christmas past arrive In the savoring scents baking sugar cookies. Crisp spicy apple cider and smooth sweet hot chocolate Quench a thirsty soul. Holiday treasures wrapped like a bouquet of mistletoe kisses. A hint of a delicate soft musk Saved for special occasions. Smoke of Juniper wood burning Outdoor fresh evergreen pine scent sensation. Triggers fond memories of presents Wrapped with the scent of Christmas. -Robin Richins, Animas High School (Rating: 7.80 Votes: 1) Waking Asleep. I hear A door Open and shut Quietly. I hear Footsteps Behind A soft ruckus. I hear Music Start to play In the background. . . A soft jazz. I hear Water Running In the bathroom. I hear The sound Of teeth Being brushed. The water stops. I hear The calling Of My name. The voice Says to me, "Honey, I'm home." -Teena Johnson, Animas High School (Rating: 7.80 Votes: 1) Hearken to the World Listen to the water rushing down the mountain Hear the Nightingale sing his song of joy. To the blowing of the branches high above, I lend my ear. While the deer panteth on, I sit in silence. Listening to everything; every little sound. When rain drops fall from the sky, I hear it. As I gaze at playful children, I listen to their laughter. To the many conversations of people, I listen. Hearken to the many sounds around you and I. -Taylor Weeks, Rio Rancho High School (Rating: 7.80 Votes: 2) Him This sore in my mouth is him a swollen tastebud on my tongue A barbed nerve with a fleshy overcoat pale and awkward, he won't go away. I kinda don't want him to. I play with him He stings me and my face contracts and I squint my eyes in pain Forgetting the past moment, I continue to flick him against my teeth withstanding no more, I stop. Throbbing and apple red he stands erect...victorious masochistic love. -Molly Staley, Las Cruces High School (Rating: 7.70 Votes: 2) Silk I touch the skin of a turtle It feels rough, so rough Like my relationship with my wife simple and rough As I slowly stroke the lovely raccoon coat my grandfather loved so much I get happy feels The sense of touch is ominous; it's all around, in every person withou each one of us, we miss this wild and wonderful life -Michael Moss, Santa Fe Preparatory School (Rating: 7.50 Votes: 2) Lies We all lie, Believe it or not, we all do, Especially if you have ever been in a picture; In that case your lies are more than a few. I saw you in that picture, the day after your dad passed away; You were his little girl, And you still are to this day. I saw your worn face, and your quivering chin, I saw your smile, trying to hide the tears within. I saw your blurry hypnotized eyes, I saw your regret And I saw the sadness in your last goodbyes. I saw your lips, being held back from opening, Afraid you might burst in to tears, Afraid of realizing all your greatest fears. I see the agony, and the pain in your frosted, ghost cheeks of white, And I see you realizing, It's not fair, and certainly not right. I see your lies, It's your smile that fibs, We never feel home anymore, We're out of our cribs. The places we most felt at home, All gone, and in that situation, If you can smile a real smile, Then my hat goes off to you, For I am still in denial. -Jennifer Sparks, St. Pius X (Rating: 7.50 Votes: 1) NEVER Never say "I Love You" If you really don't care never kiss my lips if all your going to do is walk away never talk about feelings if they aren't really there never hold my hand if your going to break my heart never say your going to if you don't plan to start never look into my eyes if all you do is lie never say hello if you really mean good-bye never call me babe if you only really only mean friend if you really mean forever then say you will try never say forever cause forever makes me cry submitted by Rebecca Chavez -Rebecca Chavez, Valley High School (Rating: 7.50 Votes: 2) Abstract You look at something like a painting But what I show you will be much different Like reading, for instance Take a look at this P Turn it around a little Is it a p? a g? a d? or a b? It all depends on how you look at it. There are many things out there. It just depends on if you want to use your imagination. -Robert Herrera, Rio Rancho High School (Rating: 7.50 Votes: 2) Total Distortion An incomprehensive sound I understand I am blind in hearing I lose my hearing in the middle of silence The sound is silent to my knowledge I scream but it's not there I listen but I can't Now screeching through the night And screams through the day Now I want not to hear Because the presence of evil is near Pounding and piercing through my sound barrier Boomb! Pure silence, darkness in hearing It's gone whether it was lost or won It was in total distress and distortion -Jose Armijo, West Las Vegas High School (Rating: 7.35 Votes: 2) Looking At You When I see you, I see your blonde hair that fades into brown. I see your sweet face with your smile that warms my soul. It is the only thing that I see when I look at you. I see your eyes that are so black they hide your thoughts But your eyes cut through the exterior of me And I can almost feel you Looking at my love for you. -Ben Lopez, Wagon Mound High School (Rating: 7.35 Votes: 2) cotton Inside your arms I'm burning Friction Heats up my senses Knowledge of you keeps me close As I squeeze your hand and fall into you I lie in bed all cozy and warm With a fresh supply of my new best friends "The touch, the feel of cotton" Deep thoughts these are not Fresh and clean underwear they are. -gabriel madrid and mark mulder, St. Pius X (Rating: 7.30 Votes: 1) Smells In this world there are many wonderful things to smell such as a rose or the smell of grandma's pumpkin pie just out of the oven. Or the smell of freshly baked bread your mother has just baked. And the smell of your mothers perfum as she gives you a hug goodbye. But even though there are many wonderful things to smell there are also many bad things that we do not like to smell. such as cigar smoke, the smell of alcohol on a drunken man, or the smell of a skunk after it has just sprayed you. There are many things we like to smell and others we do not, but whether we like to smell them or not, they are there for us to smell. -Gloria Rivera, West Las Vegas High School (Rating: 7.30 Votes: 2) Grandma As she would look at you You knew her She had gray hair That she would color black She was always happy And didn't have a care in the world. She kept her flower garden tended She would always bake She was old and wrinkled But yet she was always happy And didn't have a care in the world. -Patricia Gatlin, Valley High School (Rating: 7.20 Votes: 1) Mind's Eye The sensation of looking is something that I don't have, Yet I see all the trials and temptations of life every day. Some days, I gratefully thank God that I can't see into your life, But how can I help you when your in need? I see, and yet I don't. The window to your soul is closed to my mind's eye. You are the one I would give my last dyeing breath so that you may live, And yet I can not see you for who you really are. The sensation of looking is something that I has been rejected to me. I am able to see everything in eternity, But I am unable to see with understanding. My faults are none but my own, But my pride swells to blind me to the hurt I cause all around me. If I could change how I see life and other people I'd be a better person for it, Better than deciding to ignore it Maybe all the answers are right in front of me. Oh, but to read people like a book, I would give all my talents as a sacrifice, To help those in need. If things could go differently, And life just doesn't pass us by, I could see you with my mind's eye. -Adam Henley, Clayton High School (Rating: 7.00 Votes: 1) Touching a butterfly the flower with a great beauty not too soft and not too gently. your girlfriend touches your cheecks with her soft hands not too hard and not too soft. the love for a butterfly for her flowers is like the love for your girlfriend that will never die. without the flower where ot what would the butterfly so, where would it go to rest ot the have a peaceful sleep; only one can say how it would work and is is the love that the butterfly had fot the flower she longs for. -Steven Garcia, Wagon Mound High School (Rating: 7.00 Votes: 2) I Feel Your Touch I feel your touch. I feel your love. I don't want to leave. Don't make me beg. Please. I love you so much. All I want is your touch. It fills me with love. Your touch...... Like satin on my face. I wish I to be with you. Don't leave me in this tomb. This bleeding wound, It is my heart. It bleeds for the feel of your touch. -Jody Reeser, Clayton High School (Rating: 7.00 Votes: 1) Touch the touch of your hand makes my heart race wild. wht you take my face in your hands and kiss my face I feel I'm in heaven. I hope you never go away because i will miss your touch. -Tabatha Lords, Wagon Mound High School (Rating: 6.85 Votes: 2) Looking looking out into a world of poverty, prejudice, and fighting I do my best to look through all the windows and I find love and care and happiness I wonder is there someone out there who needs a friend then I realize I need a friend who will help me get through this life of mine. -Sophia Martinez, Wagon Mound High School (Rating: 6.80 Votes: 2) Looking listening helps you understand what needs to be understood. listening helps you succeed succeed in what ever you wish listening helps you get far maybe as far as becoming a doctor listening is a very important sense Good listening skills will help you through school and life. -Patricia Sanchez, Wagon Mound High School (Rating: 6.75 Votes: 2) So much about you Where do I begin? So much to tell So much it get in I love your body, mind and soul I need your touch and your kiss You have me floting on a heavenly bliss When I look at you A smile comes to my face And my heart races at a faster pace You are my first love and my best friend We've been through it all Good times and bad And I will be here for you 'till the end I love you more than words can say My love for you grows stronger each day And if we shall ever part You will always have a special place in my heart. Written by: Marissa Luna Written on "VISION" -Marissa Luna, Valley High School (Rating: 6.75 Votes: 2) Flowers Flowers So many kinds So many colors Some are big some are small Some make you happy Some make you sad Bright colors Dark colors So many There is so many which is your favorite Roses,Daisys,Sunflowers Carnations,Tuilps,Lilys So many kinds So many colors Flowers -Victoria Willis, Valley High School (Rating: 6.60 Votes: 1) I Hear At nights I hear the sounds of sheep thats why I cannot sleep I hear cars passing by and airplanes flying high in the sky I began to hear voices of people making choices then I hear a dog bark And I say is this where my night begins to start -Ryan Mariano, St. Bonaventure (Rating: 6.50 Votes: 1) To Look and Want Wondering where you could possibly be searching endlessly for your heart looking for your never ending rainbow searching for your endless love. All my life I have looked for you eyes dark green like the aqua sea nice thin body hands soft and sweet. Wanting my heart to leap to the sky to find you and a life-long love that's true. All my life I have looked for you knowing when I find you trembling passion will never fail tender kisses forever to share. All my life I have looked for you to life forever in passion's presence cuddling, snuggling my heart's desire sensous loving, giggling play. All my life I have looked for you cried for you like a child who has lost her teddy bear, only knowing someday I will find you. -Barbara Evans, Animas High School (Rating: 6.50 Votes: 1) Self Protection Cold and dark The sun had fallen Scared and flustered By the several frightening men In attempt to avoid And defend unwanted times They grabbed the bottle, and sprayed To ensure it's reliability The cold wind bit their faces It had turned as the button depressed Coughing and wheezing, they had kneeled over Vowing never to try again They stumbled back to their car, The snow still clinging to their clothes. Driving down the icy road, they shook their heads, Couldn't wait to get back and tell the story. -Jacob Subotick, Santa Fe Preparatory School (Rating: 0 Votes: 0)