"There Was A Fire"

     My first original spoken word poem "There was a Fire." Reading this was such an accomplishing experience. I could feel the words I was speaking racing through my veins.

Under the Mask of Night

Amidst the night's dark black mask

Thou sees no flaw

Thou deems no imperfection

Thy imagination sees and senses what it wants

Amidst the light

My repulsiveness haunts

I faintly smile under the mask of the dark night

Because my shortcomings are out of sight

By Sarah Libassi

Dear Vast Skies Above,

To the sun,

My light of sultry hope

Who breaks through the clouds of conflict

Who warms cold hearts

Who evaporates puddles of sorrow rain

I say thank you,

For drying my tears of pain.

To the moon,

My luminous faith

Who stands out in a black sheet

Who replenishes the sun's absence

Who reshapes and rearrange

I say thank you,

For showing me it is okay to change.

To the stars,

My specks of sanity

Who acceptably don't shine excessively

Who are among many alike and different

Who are distant constellations invisibly sewn

I say thank you,

For showing me I am not alone.

And to all the various skies,

My trustful guidance

Who convey imminent and everlasting emotions

Who transform the depths of experience

Who care for the elements of life,

I say thank you, thank you, and thank you.

By Sarah Libassi

STOP

America says "freedom of speech"
However my throat consumes the words
Sometimes it manages a small screech
With a lost ability to articulate
 
Do you hear the word belt my throat, voiced in a shriek?
To move past my throat; it is just too monumental
So it sinks in my chest and tugs my heart in defeat
Then descends to my feet
I find no other choice than a wish to flee
My suffering, I keep it discrete
My heart, I wish to set free
 
The word is to be described as a leach
It remains within me
Left expressed through invisible speech
When it has wriggled through my whole body
I undergo its triumph over my sanity
And my emotions become sloppy
Listen; you might here the very word when I sob
“Stop”
By Sarah Libassi

Skewed View of Christmas

     When there are more twinkling lights, more jingle bells, more snow, and most of all more business for Puckett Toys it’s officially Christmas. However, it’s the most lonesome time of the year for little Gavin Puckett. Many would think being the son of parents who owned an eminent toy company and having the coolest toys in Tennessee before they hit the shelves, that he would be the most popular kid in school. That’s not the case here.

“Hey Gavin! How about you get me one of them nifty copters your Daddy got? I sure could use one of them and maybe he could get you a friend for Christmas too!” Luke’s signature snide chuckle and fulfilling smile was being hurled at Gavin everyday. When you are being bullied by the greatest in your school, it’s hard to find the words.

“But . . . but Luke they’re not in stores yet,” Gavin replied with his eyes locked to the ground. His shoulders were tense and he gripped his backpack straps. Social situations weren’t his best suit. In all his years of elementary school, he did not have any friends to play with and his parents were always working, all he had was his toys.

“Your point?” Luke leaned in, “I wouldn’t be expecting a friend under your Christmas tree any year, Puckett.” With that, Gavin ran home, it was his only defence. He tried to drown out their laughter, but it continually mocked him. He asked himself, “Why?” Why does he get treated like so, when his parents remind him that he is a very lucky boy? He sure doesn’t feel any luckier than a three-leaf clover.

        He opened his front door and called out for his parents. They weren’t home. Of course, they must still be at work and so he ran up to his playroom. There he saw the only things that kept him near happy, that got him through the day, the only things that were there for him no matter what; his toys. He wiped away his tears and plopped to the ground. He snatched his wooden action figure toy. Although it was the least mechanical toy he had, it was his favorite. It was different like him, with its detached arm that broke out of frustration. Also, it was his inkling to a world in which all was content.

        When he looked to his toy helicopter that Luke referred to, he got an idea. He sprinted down his stairs to his parent’s toy workroom and saw heaps of Christmas ribbon, gift bags, and decorative paper. He snatched a roll of wrapping paper and ribbon. He set the helicopter on the table and coiled the paper around the helicopter. Maybe Luke thought he was hogging all his toys to himself? If he just gave him what he wanted, maybe he would stop. He coiled the wrapping paper around the toy helicopter and finished it with some ribbon.

       That night he went to bed, gazing at the wrapped, helicopter and smiled. His plan was perfect, especially since the next day was the gift exchange. He was, for once, thrilled for school tomorrow.

        “It is now time for everyone to exchange gifts!” the teacher announced and everyone began to scatter about the room. Gavin’s heart was racing; it was the first time he ever approached Luke. Also, it didn’t help that he was alone. He took a deep breath.

“Luke I have a present for you.” Luke turned around and his expression set Gavin off a little. This was it; now everybody will know that he doesn’t hog his toys. They were just all he had and he was ready to give a little. He didn’t know what else to say and so he held out the toy. Luke looked sceptical and unexpectedly took the toy steadily. He was quiet and that was making Gavin very anxious. He carefully unwrapped the gift, taking a moment here and there to look back at Gavin.

“Well, you finally came through didn’t you?” he exclaimed, sounding more spiteful than Gavin expected. Did it not work? What was the flaw that came upon his plan unknowingly? Before Gavin even said anything, he saw what was Luke smiling an ever so tiny smile, nonetheless it was a smile!

“You know what, Puckett? You’re a cool kid.” Gavin was flattered, yet confused.

“But I thought you saw me as weird and greedy with my toys?” Luke shook his head to contradict.

“Well, I . . . was just jealous, I guess. Just seeing you with all them toys and me not having barely any, made me mad.” Luke didn’t think he was greedy or weird! How could have Gavin gotten this wrong? Luke quickly scanned his surroundings’ and snatched his friends’ gift bag.

        “Here I got this for you!” Gavin tossed the tissue paper behind him revealing the greatest present he ever got.

“I know it ain’t much –”

“Luke, it’s the best! I really wanted a new wooden action figure!” Today Gavin became a new him with a new favorite toy. It was just like his last one, except with an attached arm and he held it close.

“Hey! That’s not for you!” Luke’s friend argued.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll let you come over and play with my new snazzy copter,” Luke grinned from ear to ear and his friend cheered, “You to, Puckett.”

It was around supper time when Gavin got home and when he walked in the door, surprisingly his parents were home and not busy at work.

“Where were you, young man?” his mother said worried.

“I was playing at a friend’s house,” Gavin said, what must have been the first time. Both his parents had an amazed and merry mien to their faces.

“Isn’t that fine, honey! We got you something, Gavin. It’s an early Christmas present.” His mother handed him the gift box. It’s the first time in weeks his parent’s have paid any attention to him, let alone even saw him. It all felt so good and he hoped it would be this way Christmas day, instead of them dealing with mounds of people’s complaint calls. He didn’t worry about that now, he was just too delighted.

When he peeled back all the wrapping paper and ribbon, he saw what made him giggle with joy. His parent’s got him a new wooden action figure, same as the old one, aside from the broken arm. He looked at them and couldn’t stop giggling.

“What’s so funny?” 

By Sarah Libassi

I'll Follow You Into the Stars

      I am starring at my shoes in the ICU. There poorly tied due to the time rushing before my eyes and they uncoordinate with my pajamas. I hear a faint sound of the television entertaining itself. I glance around the room and see more eyes starring at the cracks on the tiles. I imagine the little boy I see swears to himself to never step on a crack again for mommy's sake. I imagine the pacers I see promise to never walk away for their loves sake. I imagine the patient in 409 taking a long breath without another to follow. With that, I ration my breaths and presume that I have already taken too many today.

      The room reeks of disease, distress, and goodbyes, but with my quite breaths I hear steps. My whole body tenses up. The doctor comes around the corner and everyone draws up their heads. Before the doctor speaks the pacers stop, the breaths stop, the regrets stop and I flashback to what Anna said. Time came back into place and I sprint out of my chair pushing the doctor out of the way. I frantically race to her room and murmur what Anna said. “Don't lose hope when the sun goes down, because then the stars come out.”

      Who is going to be there to see you glisten in the stars?

by sarah libassi

Clockwork

We stopped time for a couple months

When we found our touch

So electric it put a halt to the clutch 

The cadence of our hearts 

Sped up, as the the click of it’s moving parts 

Slowed down, as love was more than love between you and me

A love that was more than this earth could see

Rising to the heavens where we could truly gleam 

As the clockwork stopped under our feet 

We stopped time for a couple months 

When we felt strong against the tide 

A tide of time that we almost defeated in our stride 

We spoke in whispers of love, kisses, and touch 

So the clocks wouldn’t hear us cheating time so much

We stopped time for a couple months

Standing on the gears of the clock 

Halting its works, 

We paused time for months 

For weeks

For minutes 

You could make time stand still forever I reckon

Until it came down to the very second

In the last second,

The strength of the clockwork shed your bones, blood, and being

Far away from me, as I stood there shedding mainly tears 

Immense tears to heavy the tides of time 

So no one would be strong enough to swim against it 

Now the clocks are stronger than love to reign 

So no one can feel what I lost again

By Sarah Libassi