I Can’t Go Home

By Michelle

I can’t go home
Home does not a wait for me.
Home does not care for me.
Home is the feeling of death for me.
Home is like 5 hits of crystal meth for me.
Home ain’t my freedom
home don’t need me and I don’t need em’.
 
Home is my jail cell
when I am not guilty.
When I am innocent ,home beats me
Home is a hole in the ground sinking me deeper down.
Home is the devil
and I am his crown
Home neglects me, home despises me
home regrets me
Home invites me in then lies to me.
 

: I wrote this when I was living in Los Angeles. It was around the time both of my sisters had left the house and my mother had so much anger in her she would take out on my younger brother and I. I would always come home from school and just lock myself in my room and sneaking out in the nights. I was 15.

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Broad Daylight

 by Michelle

Before I back up and speak about bad crimes
I want to say sorry
to those
I’ve hurt horribly a hundred and a half times
I used to walk around using and abusing,
bruising trust from those
Who showed lust over me.
 
Maybe I was mad at my life at the moment
Maybe I lacked moral magic mostly,
glory never appeared
And I took it out on who were closer to here (my heart)
I’ve used hearts
I know now  I can’t continue
cause I ’I’ve fucked up
finally.
 
It frustrating feeling that I’m falling for my old me
Who was a bitch in my history.
However, hopefully life has high hopes to return to my life.
I’ve finally learned to leave lies behind.
I’ve learned the real feel of  loss ,loneliness, love, lust, and the sensitive low touch of the light life that lies, living
Liberating me.
It listens to focus on the importance of making me wiser.
I’ve grown from a despicable, desperate, devious, deceiving Liar,
To a blooming, bright, baby blue Freed flower.
One which has realized the true meanings of things
that through the experiences I can proudly present properly
to those who lack of it.
Now I shall not let no one come to me without  leaving better and happier,
But I will never forget who I was
when my wiseness wasn’t introduced to me
I’ve  taken  full responsibility.
I paid my dues and fortunately got away blessed
Because blindly I learned to actually listen better
I brilliantly brought broad daylight back briskly before braking back
down        down.

A Point That Leads 2 Green

By Josh

A point that leads 2 green,
Never had a red light, I guess it’s what it seems—
Unnoticeable kind of type with no needs to redeem.
Got precision like three stripes,
N still keep my record clean. Your producer would sell your dreams.
I work and got my own team.
I’m greedy to hold the mike
And put passion in my own theme.
I’m clipping my own scene—
What you think dat it don’t mean?
Yeah, I got a voice that acknowledges silence
 and don’t scream,
 done with childish ways,
 let go the days of a young teen.
Can’t say that I don’t sing
Big Muhammad Ali bee
but you say that I don’t sting.

My Body Is A Temple

Temple by Shyla

My body is like a temple– when you look at me you know I’m not simple. I’m hard to get–can’t even touch me with a 10 foot pole.

My soul is the inside of the temple–warm and cold at the same time, but still my soul works day and night to change inside.

My soul is empty with plenty of room to make it full. My body so strong you couldn’t knock me down with a push or pull

I been through a lot, that’s why I have all these marks. It’s clear that in my life I’ve fought and yet I’m still beautiful especially to those that know my history and to others, how I became me is mystery.

My body is a temple–hard on the outside, cold on the inside but still such a beautiful sight.

My body is a temple. My creators worked hard–it was far from simple.

My Place of Calm

Written by: Devin

Library Drawing by Devin

Library Drawing by Devin

It is within a library where I go to find solace, and the clarity of my mind.

Pages, old and new, crisp and crumpled. The words invading my mind with wisdom as the teacher would, reading their lessons. Words seem to float around from the page to my eyes, and my mouth. Each delectable, and bittersweet.

To read is to sing, but a song of the mind. The knowledge melting into the cerebellum, joining cohorts, and mingling for my pleasure. Music. That is what books are for me. A Waltz made just for me, composed by Bach himself.

The rows of literature–they make me smile. Some of the knowledge hidden, some laid out for  consumption. Standing ten, fifteen feet tall, the oaken shelves never bending in the weight upon them, just as the absolute knowledge never tarries in their astuteness.

It is the feeling of the pages and covers that excite me. The smooth vellum, and plant fibres tickling the very tips of my fingers as they brush the fragile bindings.

It is these things that calm me, make me center myself. Letting each tick from the previous day flit away, into the History books that surround me.

A Library, that is where I go.

Greasy Deaf Guy

By Michael

He runs around
So silly
People want to slap him
He seems simple
How can he be
Like one of us?
He can’t hear as well
As if you had cotton
Wedged in your ears
 
But that’s what you don’t understand
He holds great ideas.
Given the chance,
He could change the world
Just like any other human being.
Unfortunately this person
Is barred behind
Whispered insults
And snarky comments
That are just out
Of ears reach.
 
The people who act indifferent
To the deaf man’s burden
Are just like you and me—
We live and love
Procure and prosper
Bite and bash.
 
It hurts like hell
To know that
People don’t always take you seriously.
 
In the end,
We can only go forward:
Defend and amend
Strive forward and
Stem the bleeding

Dedication to Life

Graduated Zine Intern, Michelle delivers a very heart felt reading of her poem Dedication to Life at her Zine Graduation.

Click the picture below to check out the video. A full text version of her poem is below:

Graduated Intern, Michelle reads a poem.

Dedication to My Life

By Michelle

LIFE, you were dreams of mine.
You were lies, and games , some happiness ,some burning flames.
You were the eyes of a young girl
Watching her parents
Screaming,
and breaking things
due to the lack of money.
You were the crazy eight year old who bit a kid
That no one believed was chocking you.
You were the innocent little girl who got jumped by 5 other girls
And a boy
In second grade,
on the playground in broad daylight.
LIFE, you were a sibling of trouble makers that made you become one.
You came from a nice place in California 
Then moved to  the “ghetto”,  in LA at age 8.
You learned new ways to have “fun”.
You were then strong, and tough,
and absolutely did not take shit from anyone.
You saw war take place in your block on the streets,
you saw car chases ,you saw blood,
You saw 10 year old kids using  hand guns.
You were raised outside
Sucked into bad influence.
The drugs ,the drinking, the stealing you did,
Not using common sense.
LIFE, you were the one who disrespected your peers
The one who skipped class
The one who got the idea to put glue in the teacher’s seat.
You were my report cards,
You were all those D’s.
You were a rebel
A failure in your families eyes.
You were the chick with the skateboard and sunglasses,the punk rocker,the”I don’t give a fuck “ person, the graffiti writer stuck in her illegal artwork.
The one being chased by cop cars for the way you used to looked.
You were the alchohol in my hands when it was sure
That my family had drifted apart.
LIFE, you were the 16 year old girl who found herself falling in love with a female.

You were there during the beginning of a beautiful story
You were there in the tragic ending.
LIFE, you were the one who took the pain and suffering when my mother outted me to the rest of my family.
You were there all those days my young brother made fun of me .
LIFE, you were there the night I blacked out from drinking and smoking too much crystal meth.
You were the horrible feeling in the morning , My purple swollen tongue.
The moment I regretted what I had done.
You were my depression I fell into
You were there when I saw my mother being attacked by her boyfriend
When she was a couple months pregnant .
You were the reasons I left my home that was no longer a home.
LIFE, you were the nights I slept on the streets
The roof tops, my sleeping bag under the trees
You were the 10 cigarettes daily I no longer smoke
You were the all night long walks, too afraid to sleep outside alone.
LIFE, you were my reason for giving up on you.
But you were there when I rose back up for you.
You were the shelter I slept in
You were the job I was hired for
You were finally a roof in my head
the place I could go to every night
And lay on my actual bed.
You were the courage I found to talk to my mother
And let her know a piece of what was going on with her youngest daughter
You were the motivation I discovered
 the attending school again , the not being late for work once.
You were the protests I stood up for, the not being scared to speak out my mind.
You were my realization that I had to make something out of myself this time.
Forget the little girl that no one listened to ,they do now because she did not give up.
Forget the troubled rebel teenager .She has grown up.
If someone chokes me I know now just to bite harder.
Whether  some one believes me or not.
If I get jumped I know they are going through the time in their lives I no longer live for.
And my family is still together
in my heart no matter what
 They won’t walk out this door.
LIFE, You are who I am now.
The person you made me out to be
I believe in her
And I am proud to know that she is me.
LIFE, I dedicate this to you
because I can finally       breath

I Rise When I Thrive

By Josh

I know I need to thrive through people’s lives,
so what’s weight?
I thrive off their brain size.
Good choices and thrive on when they despise.
 I thrive off of rushing
 but never did collide. Unexpected,
 I thrive on a good surprise. Got rhythm,
 I thrive with a happy vibe.
I thrive 2 go high but when the moment die,
 I strive 2 just thrive,
 knowing it makes me wise.
I thrive 2 keep the honey inside the bee hive,
 I thrive off curly fries when it’s swirly and deep fried..
 I thrive when situations start 2 get knee high,
 I thrive 2 work it out like an exercise.
I thrive 2 abide by the skies,
 but it’s confusing because u thrive 2 see the sun out or cry.
I thrive 2 get an answer not 2 ask god why.
I thrive because the last thing I do is try.