Maya+Wright

“Poetry is emotion put into measure. The emotion must come by nature, but the measure can be acquired by art.” “Poetry is a silent voice heard everywhere inside of us…”


 * Ode to My House**

The scratching of old German hand made floorboards So loud and uneasy Yelling and screeching with every shift of weight Making it hard to sneak out the back door to my awaiting date

Sometimes I wish that with every step that Those stairs would get shorter But as I grow out of breath they just seem to get longer And more like torture

My room, oh my room Not much of a safe haven but more like a cage The lock is on the outside And you need a key to get out from the inside But lucky for me I know my way down the hall and to the back stairway

After all this is where I live My old floor boarded, long stared, and jail cell house

Grief

The silent voices loud in my head Telling me that someone was dead The weakening thought of whom I knew it to be Blurred my vision, shortened my breath But not enough not to see you looking at me Your eyes so large, so innocent but dark Made me realize that if I told you it would forever leave a mark

The phone rang and my mom answered Only to find that my anti-prayer had been answered I closed my eyes and made a fist Let it go and

The phone rings call from my father And my mom answers from down the hall Hysterical crying telling me that someone was dying This calm sensation came over me

Falling

What is a dream compared to a nightmare? The thoughts composed of your deepest wishes Or your deepest wishes stripped till they’re bare with kisses In your dreams you hold your world in your hands

Riff What is a dream? A wish that your heart makes.