Seldom Did I Ever & In Explosions

Seldom Did I Ever

Those days at 2:47 PM you could find me
at my raw light-brown ash wood desk
in the corner of my comfortably quiet basement
speculating each and every stroke I set upon
some thin-lined loose-leaf paper sheets –

the sheets that I would bring daily to room 313
as I took hold of my grandfather’s hand
along the way to and back, seldom
trailing behind him, biting at his heels with my toes
but even more seldom running ahead with

arms wide open, loose sleeves flailing in the wind
trying to perhaps stop a second of time
right before the high-flying green doors would
close upon me yet leave a crack for my bloody red nose –
the nose on which I clumsily fell along the way

and was really the thing that saved me…
from being late.

In Explosions

six billion heads down below
with powerful brains and powerful hearts
of passion and sorrow and
sentimental notions.
me, I am no different
with time spent in thoughtful expression
and contemplation of
things abstract to others only
the cry of a stretch at dawn in bed
born anew so many times
in explosions of revelations
the spark in the cradle of my heart
starving myself, sharing the hunger
of a child gone every five seconds
while lines of words words words
in Times New Roman
parade through my dreams
as I lie limp in a myriad of books and papers
of medical terminology and strange diagrams
that hold the key to our future –
my future.
But the past –
it is painting, forever painting
of watercolor and graphic design
ceramics and Acrylic paints
in the wilderness
talking to my trees and green wigs
on sticks that make up
my bicycle, fierce and strong
speeding down the road
turning heads, turning trees in
wind and leaves until the
grand prize, the finish line
streaming in the water, gasping for a breath
but never good enough, fast enough
to know the tricks that have
ever so deceived me in
friends and foes alike
who have read me through and
through, in my writing
forever there on the blog
I call mine but is really
of all those in this world
all six billion heads up above
staring down at my stature
expecting, waiting, needing
the one head that I have and
I am willing,
I am willing to give them all of me
in explosions,
explosions of revelations.

Lucy Tan
Age 17, Grade 12
Stuyvesant High School
Silver Key

Leave a Reply