Below is a selection of works from some of our residential poets! According to their club page, Poets Committee is the club that carries the creative Voice of Roosevelt. It is responsible for the hosting of, set-up and take-down of the school’s Open Mics, which occur one-to-two times every month and Mini Mics every Friday morning. Poets Committee performs at assemblies and promotes the publication of the Creative Arts Quarterly, the arts magazine released four times per year containing all forms of creative expression. Special thanks to poet laureate Marissa Mcginnis for the entries.
I miss her
I flipped up her skirt with a crowbar
And she kissed me with her fist
When the bleeding stopped
I stood there dazed
While she wiped away the saline from my cheeks,
Kissed me
And continued to undress
Her skirt had nails on it
All her clothes
Had nails on them
And when I accumulated the courage
To ask about us
She mentioned something about screwing
And told me to do the math
I wanted to correct her
Say that
It was much more like
Construction
Than calculus.
I didn’t want to lose the moment,
And even though I was right
I still would have lost the argument.
She undid her lace facade, and I saw her
And she was beautiful.
Hyperbole is a common affliction
In the presence of a false goddess
I had forgotten how bare reality was
And the grace of things you can hold
In your palms
I still have the crowbar.
I don’t want it
But when I left i forgot to give it back.
Sometimes when I stop thinking I’ll find myself holding it.
There are rust marks from saline. And
I’m sorry.
Little girl I see you
You wonder why they put fish scales on lips
Why placing a mask is necessary for beauty
Sucking in tummies to become as slim as physically possible
Little girl I know you
I know you would rather play sports than wear dresses
You feel like you can’t be yourself because of boys vs girls
Hate the word tomboy because you are so much more than a label
Little girl I am you
Understand that the media is wrong
The ads don’t represent everyone
Pinpointing specific shapes to be ideal
And they’re portrayal of plus size limited to slim bellies and wide hips
Little girl
Your appearance does not represent who you are
Little girl smile
Little girl don’t look at yourself for too long
You will start to hate the mirror and the mirror will show you how to hate yourself
Little girl be careful
I know that the world should be safe for everybody but the dark can hide things and people
Little girl I love you
And I don’t want greedy men to take too much of your kind heart and body that you are so willing to give
Little girl you’re growing up
You’re growing up in a awful place full of awful people
And I know you think you are ok but little girl
I worry
I worry one day they will corrupt your mind and you won’t be so little anymore
Little girl
You are in a Big world
Little girl
You are surrounded by Big men
Little girl
You have a Big heart
Poem by: Marissa Mcginnis
“I’m sorry”
“I’m sorry, I didnt see you there”
“I’m sorry, can I scoot right by you here?”
“I’m sorry, gosh I’m just forever
in the way, huh?”
“I’m so– oh, that was a table”
“Hello, my name is–
oh, I’m so sorry, I cut you off”
And then there were two.
A pair of eyes
gazing out over the crowd,
a whisper in a room,
a shadow in a hall,
and that’s it.
The life of the on-looker,
she’s not looking forward
she’s looking down.
She is not nothing,
she takes up space,
too much on the bathroom scale
by her account,
but space nonetheless.
She is tired of being walked into,
shoved into walls
because you don’t want to look
where you’re going,
tired of her voice
constantly filed under “pending, try again later”.
Later isn’t gonna work for me.
See, a wise woman once told me
“they don’t have to like you
to respect you,”
and you know what?
You’re right, mom.
This girl is tired of handing herself second,
sick of apologies,
a permanent rhyme,
sick of laying herself on the line
to let there be peace
because ….. She can’t solve
all your problems
and that’s okay.
Change whisper to “hey, I take up space too”,
change shadow to “excuse me,
I’m walking here”,
change “pending”
to “I don’t think you heard me,
so listen up”.
This girl is done
apologizing for her existence.
Poem by: Laura Madsen
