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[made with adjectives and nouns]

White birch
Black moon
Still darkness
Thick gloom
gentle kiss
solemn bliss.

- Rachel Jean-Marie

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Love

Love \ ˈləv  \: noun. When my mother wakes up at 5:00am to start cooking large pots of food for the day even though there are only five of us in the house.  She knows that my friends will come over to eat; When my father never utters the word I love you but always checks up on me to make sure that I am okay. Straight to the point.  A story about what's going on in Haiti.  Some history.  Quick updates about the family. -- "I love you Dad!" -- And his response: Okay. Bye; My grand-aunt, a real old school G.  -- "Hi Aunty!" --  Look at your ugly face! -- "I love you too Aunty!" and the smile that lights up on her subtle amiable face when I call her bluff. She can't hide that love from me; When my brother asks me where am I going as if he was my father; When I change my grandmother's diaper, feed her, and take care of her medication.  Love isn't Disney or Hollywood.  It's real life with all of its complexities and a stubborn determination to love no matter what.

- Rachel Jean-Marie

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[made with list of book titles]

Black Boy
write the poem
an exaltation of
brown girl dreaming.
Yes.
Fights
spark and
all souls
become
wordplaygrounds.
But
this star won't go out.
She persisted.
Possibilities.
Crazy Love.
Everybody always
fights
but
Dark horse
get creative.
Create
Boundaries
and still
love like you've never been hurt
and still
hang a thousand trees with ribbons
and still
find the truest things about you
and still
find healing for the wounded heart.
Black boy.
Star girl.
Fight.

- Rachel Jean-Marie

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Bedroom own little world

Sitting here on my computer

Hearing the wind hitting the trees outside smoothly

The tree sticks and leafs touching the window so aggressive

But yet so innocent

Cold fresh water next to a loud ringing phone

Next to a tv with lofi beats so relaxing and fresh

Just feel like opening the window and let all the

Pure fresh cold breeze touching your face

A computer desk with notebooks and pencils

And around this little planet

I call home and room

With clothes and shoes that ive worn to go to so many different places around the world

Drawings and playful toys and object

A room that feels so alive

It so big

Yet holds such a small heart and soul that lives with it

My own little world

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Perfection: What I think of when I see my handwriting gorgeously written on a piece of paper; what I smell when I anxiously sprint to the door to get my meal delivered by Uber Eats. Perfection is what my ears hear every time I listen to Celine Dion sing those marvelous ballads with her angelic voice, perfection is what I desire to own but can never have. My eyes see perfection every time I see the colour yellow, my eyes glow like the sun. Perfection is the feeling of drawing a line on the smoothest paper, with the freedom of your hand moving wherever your brain desires, creating masterpieces that will live forever.

Enzo “The Best” Palacios

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The girl I used to be is now between the notes

R.I.P Eliza Harts you let the darkest minds steal your joy

They called you dork

Like your just in a paper town

You always know the seven things that steal your joy

You will always be one of the lives we lost

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Cups

Cups

Cups

And more cups

A spoon

A juice box

Pencils and pens

Markers and erasers

At least they are in there designated spot

Notebook

Binder

Book

Sketch book

Planner

Tv

Star Wars figure

Glasses

It is a messy desk

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Map Poem

Bedroom Cartography

Clothes sitting on the basket next to the door,

And a shoe compartment thingy with glasses and hats on top.

A mirror to help remind me who this room and this headspace belongs to,

And a desk with different objects important and unimportant along with some

trophies from my days of baseball.

On the right, a dart board for when I need to throw my emotions at something,

and a dresser where some of my favorite clothing is stored.

On the left, a gallery of drawers with unknown treasures and technology inside; along

with other things like books, manga, figurines, and even some money.

Behind, a very comfy bed; a resting place where I can go after the day is over,

The one way ticket to “dreamland” starts there.

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I wake up to the sound of my alarm clock
Feeling the warmth of my covers near my skin
Once I have the strength to get up
I see a black girl with power
One day I hope I will have that power
Then I see a tank with a life inside to feed

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A handful of dust

Of mice and men.
When

A

Caged bird Sings

All flowers bloom.

Tender is the night

The hunter

Places

His best laid trap

The long day

Feels like

An Endless night.

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PInk spreaded thru everywhere you look.
LIghts that flash to catch your eyes.
Flowers that feel like summer all over the world. Self motivation to my brain.
Mirrors so that you cant miss a thing. Tv that brings laughter.
Closet filled with adventurous clothing. Shoes from left to right.
Noise indicatior.
A key to dream land.
Rug that you feet dance too.
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 having to except the a way I look. By anubia

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 having to except the a way I look. By anubia

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Growing with confidence is something that is earned not given....but even when it is how can it be received when every time it is given it’s broken.
It’s just like a bird with clipped wings
They’re left on the ground instead of the sky trying to fly....they’re left down.
It’s like a sunflower without the sunlight...it can’t grow.
Granted it tries to lean on another sunflower but that other sunflower needs light too....
So it’s move over to the side.
Leaving the other sunflower to die.
It’s like an artist without imagination.
They have their utensils but what can they do!
Nothing.....just sitting there without inspiration.
See this is the problem with having to except myself because in my mind I’m told that it’s not enough!
So to people with the confidence may I ask.
Was it given or asked?

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Food ( Athamar, Jenifer, Nyema and Schylah.)

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Food ( Athamar, Jenifer, Nyema and Schylah.)

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When you feel your stomach rumble that's when you know you need food. Food brings memories to the brain. To traditional food to travel food is such an amazing feeling. Food can be something good to the belly or not so good. When you see food with different shapes and sizes. When you know you been eating to much and end up on the toilet. When thanksgiving brings tons and tons of food on the table.  When you try a flavor and it ether is satisfying or not. The wonders of food but did we try it all. I don't think so.

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when I see you, i think about the black and white flashbacks you gave me, mostly black, black blood.

You get to walk around the high school hallway and laugh and be happy and live after you forced me do something I didn't wanna do.

Then, you paied your way out of your mess, only for me to live in

lie.

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When your happy you with you family like positive friendship spending time alone.You can be happy with food, or traveling.Happiness comes from anything! Pets, children, or doing your hair.
Hanging with friends or just having an allowance.Anything small or big can make anyone happy!

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What do you heard about immigrants
"Mexican?"
"Rapist?"
"Drug dealers?"
"Criminals?"
"Dangerous?"
I guess you heard these stereotypes from Trump?
Am I correct?
U.S and Trump plays the role of "victims"
while immigrants play the role of the "bad guys"?
Should have switched roles.
"Mexican?" Does he mean only Mexican?
No. Everyone from South America.
Their parents trained children to be criminals!
How? They're just children.
Why will their parents do that?
Wait, You're not an immigrant.
It's true, but I feel their pain too.
How can we resolve this issue?
I hope we can help immigrants
rather than against them.
I hope we won't repeat this event.
Immigrants are important to the U.S.