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Genre: Poetry
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Dream Street

By: Nicole Haines


Alone at night I sit
Here in my room.
I have no cause to fear it,
This place of safety from the gloom.
Yet, in the dimmest light of night
I am alone with me,
And I get a special kind of sight
That only I can see.
Here in my room this eve
I face myself alone.
Who I am, who I want to be,
Is open, clearly shown,
And in the darkness I must see
A person hard to know
The person who is me,
Not the daughter, friend, or foe.
It is only I, both out and in,
With flaws and assets laid bare.
Me…as I am and as I've been
Without the many roles I wear.
And when I face myself tucked in bed each night,
I often wonder who it is that's with me all the time…
Is she wrong, or nearly right, and can I mold her, this soul of mine?


I always thought Romeo and Juliet
Had a stupid family feud,
That the story of Montague and Capulet
Was just a story, a Shakespearean tale.
But then I had in-laws of my own, I regret.
And now I'm amazed that their old romance
Ended in so few deaths.

Mexican Vendor

He said 30 pesos and no less
And I said 20 and no more.
And it wasn't the worth of the hand-made dress
That was really in dispute.

He smiled under his big straw hat,
Gold-capped teeth shining in his leathery face.
As he turned his head, he spat,
Then said, "28 pesos, good price, Amiga.

"20 and no more," I say yet again.
He sighs and shows me another dress
And through his glittery grin
"24, special for you," he says.

I shake my head, "Not today"
And the prospect of a lost sale
Suddenly makes him see things my way.
"22 pesos," cries that sweating, cluttered man.

"Thanks, anyway," I move along.
"15 pesos, for you, for today!"
And now I know that I've won.
I have a new dress; He has his fair wage.

And as I admire my treasure,
A small humble woman approaches.
She shows me her handiwork with pride and pleasure.
Her hair neatly braided, an honest manner.

When I ask how much,
She looks me in the eye.
She says twenty,

I give her twenty-five.


Through the years many changes take place.
Changes in nearly every face.
Winter becomes spring
With summer closely following
Leaves change from green to red,
And fall comes at summer's end.
Years fly quickly past
From the first day to the last.
Babies born fresh and new
Grow up and have babies, too.
But always friends are there
To comfort and to care
Friends to watch you grow,
Friends to help you do so,
Friends to laugh with you
And sometimes even cry with you.
Yes, always there is change,
But real friends are endlessly the same.

Ghetto Tears

The world awakens a child from innocence
Before he has a chance to dream
With blood-stained streets
And angry screams,
Hunger pains that gnaw within
Like scavengers of poverty,
Filthy corners shrouded in
Darkness, fear, and enmity;
Solemn gravesites,
War-torn lands,
Senseless gang fight,
Empty hands…
So parents must remember to shelter every little one
To let him in innocence linger
And perhaps his dreams may live on.


A child dies for imperfection
A woman due to race
A writer - they say insurrection
And me? I die for my beliefs.

Prisoner 3692
Her hair's too dark a shade
And that man whose eyes aren't blue
Is scheduled to die today.
Through one man's evil a nation is led
And generations of people
Forever mourn their dead.

Now nations cry for absolution
For forgiveness from their wrongs
Of outright murder or tacit contribution
Unsure where the blame belongs.

Infant corpses plead the cause of justice
Much too late for them
And works of dead and dying artists
Cry out bravely to condemn.

And I the voluntary prisoner
Know I'm not alone
For in years to come they'll say of others
Who called this their final home,

"Not one of them recanted."


Terrified snowflakes
They fell to the ground
Papers and people
Scattered all around.
And all of the world
Could only stand and wait
Too frightened to see
Too stunned to look away.

Augie P.

I did not believe that he celebrated life.
Still unsure whether he really enjoyed it.
But life had celebrated him.
A tiny, humble figure, a shadow of us all
A contented being, pleased with colored paper cards
And daffodils.
An artist without passion, without art.
Never sought anything of life, but to live until he died.
Yet leaving a void in his wake
That lasted forever.


I caught a falling star
And held its glowing essence
Clutched tightly in both hands.
As the embers cooled to stardust
The cool night breeze
Whisked it away,
And I saw in each palm
Emblazoned softly
The shadow of a star.

My friend, a glimmering piece of heaven
Fell into my grasp
Like some amazing fortune
But vanished in the wind
Still the mark is indelible forever
And I know that once I held a star.


Too much of this world is incumbent upon us
Forcing us to see what we would rather not,
Requiring us to be aware
Of more of the tragic than we ought.
And were we to flee from its pain,
Surely they'd say we had fled
Into the waiting arms of unreality,
That place where they claim insanity is bred.
But hardly does it seem to me
That seeking refuge from the horrors we disdain
Could ever truly be
Anything less than sane.

The wisdom who could deny
Is removing the thorn from the rose
Prior to brushing a gentle cheek
And spare such the pain it may impose?

For knowing that such a pain could exist
Is quite enough to bear.
Why hold it so close to the heart;
Why want to nurture it there,
When pain is so readily found
And peace so awfully rare?

Afflicted Bliss

The dauby adherence of importunate circumstance
Clinging barnacles to life's hull,
Unrelenting troubles.
And salvaged from this shipwrecked existence,
The indomitable spirit to live.
Warm sap pulsating through our veins,
Knowing there is still spring to come.
The art of peace, the peace of art
The war within, the war without
The life we live, the way we die,
The joys we savor bound to our anxieties
Woven inextricably together
In a treasured quilted existence,
No part complete without the other.

Love's Answer

The souls of ancient mysteries
And their sighs that whisper in the breeze
Go tripping with their tiny voiceless feet
Through echoing caverns, the mind's keep,
Searching for the answers.

The Mysteries, the questions, haunting every dream,
Yet subtle in their presence it would seem.
So subtle we forget them, the answers do not find,
And go on missing something, not knowing at the time
Then they appear…

The solutions to each and every one.
Even queries we knew not of
Become crystalline in their clarity
Because the truth, the heart of any reality,
Is found in love.


When you're in love is it stronger
More real than anything you've ever known
And if it lasts forever, longer
Will it still not be enough?

Then you are me.
And I am you.
And we share a world that leaves us confused.

But in the end, our complexities laid bare,
We both know the other will be there -
Someone who thinks like me,
Someone who feels like you.


Have you ever been lonely in a crowd?
Have you ever felt crowded when alone?
Have you ever gotten somewhere and wondered how?
Or searched for a place to call your own?
Do you ask who you are, where you've been,
Who'll you be, where you'll go,
What turns your life will take and when?
Do you sing a quiet tune soft and low
And to that song do you dance
To a rhythm unique to you?
Would you take a staunch, brave stance
In behalf of something just and true?
Do you see the future in little children's eyes,
And wonder if you'll see it in your yet unborn son?
Do you hear the hint of truth in other people's lies,
And love the truth, hate the lie, forgetting they are one?
Have you smiled through your tears at a funeral
knowing that the suffering is done,
cried through your smiles at a marriage ill-advised
Knowing the suffering has just begun?
Do you love the beauty of the night
But still fear the unknown?
Would you yearn for adventure
but still long to be at home?
Do you love to take your time in life,
Yet hate that time won't wait for you?

Do you believe in God, and hope that he believes in you too?


Today I stood face to face with Time.
I wondered to where He fled.
He said, "To Places sublime,

To greet the living and leave the dead.
Behind me are the moments
Where joy did abound
But also are the torrents
In which so many drowned.
I journey to tomorrow
Sorrowing to leave the gladness
And glad to leave the sorrows."
I begged him to linger here,
To let me cherish a moment for an hour
But he had not a listening ear
And wouldn't use his power
To suspend the world in stillness
For a momentary eternity.
He said for some it would prolong the illness
And extend the misery.
While we sometimes hate to see
Time fleeing in such haste
Other days how hard it would be
The bitterness to longer taste.
And then I understood.
I told him to go on ahead,
As I knew he would.

Now I knew we must set Time free
So we can abandon moments of anguish forever
And cherish moments of joy eternally.


I bade my friend farewell
And sought solace
In my private hell
Joyous on the surface
For all the world to see
Inner angst and turmoil
An emotional sea
Buried in the soil
Deep inside of me.
To grow without expression
And live and feed
Upon the reflection
Of my mind on word and deed
That live no more…

I pay my respects to the passing
And set free the deceased
And for a while the all-encompassing
Grief I harbor like disease.
When through the open window
Rays of sun alight
And a sweet spring breeze blows
The pain far out of sight.

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