AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (1) Poisoned Seed (Short Stories) A rough draft of a new work. Feedback and suggestions would be appreciated, and I will continue to revise and re-edit this story. And oh yes... it's about a tree. [810 words] [Mind]
On Being Invisible Nitro
so i sit here,
watching her lips move
as my English teacher speaks.
there was a poetry assignment
and though i've been in her class
almost a year, she still doesn't
recognize my handwriting. She had to go
back to her gradebook and check for my name.
She lifts her chin up and says
in her kindest condescension:
"why so dark?
"It's ugly.
"a poem should have pretty things
"like rainbows--Gina wrote about those
"and her poem is lovely.
"don't you want to write a lovely poem?"
What i want is to be out of here
and rid of poetry assignments that give me Cs in English
and taste like berries made of cardboard.
but i say yes, ma'am
and she doesn't listen, even though
i am admitting defeat. The bell rings
and i look back from the doorway,
knowing that next semester, or even tomorrow
she won't remember what my handwriting looks like.
so i sit here,
listening to a girl i've known forever
asking me a question i've answered a thousand times.
in my mind she wears a nametag that reads: FRIEND
but i look up and her eyes are mirrors
and there are too many teeth in her smile.
i want to bash them out
and make a bloody hole to scream through
but instead i nod and
answer the question again,
hoping that i'm speaking loud enough
and trying not to stutter, but i know
that when i leave, she won't remember
or even care
what my reply was
or how it sounded in my voice.
so i sit here,
crushing daisies, in a violent reverie
writing a poem that would earn me another C.
from my pen fall
little girls, lipless
and grinning hyenas without any ears.
but a poem should have pretty things.
and even though no one will read it,
i'll scribble one down:
"rainbows are colorful
like roses in the sun."
that doesn't mean anything
but it got Gina an A
and the teacher knows her handwriting
no checking of gradebooks for Gina's name.
but
it still doesn't matter
because it's too late for me
too late, i know
because my teacher can't read
and FRIEND can't hear
and tomorrow, or whenever i'm gone,
no one will remember the sound of my voice
or what my handwriting looks like.
READER'S REVIEWS (3) DISCLAIMER: STORYMANIA DOES NOT PROVIDE AND IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR REVIEWS. ALL REVIEWS ARE PROVIDED BY NON-ASSOCIATED VISITORS, REGARDLESS OF THE WAY THEY CALL THEMSELVES.
"Nice. Reminiscent of "Absolutely Nothing." (Perks of Being a Wallflower). Overall, this was an excellent poem." -- Bennett.
"Nitro stumbles and interprets the earth where as the greatest perceived writers rush past. Moments of lost time may become literature, be perceived as expletives, hung, taught with actions, force reactions. The borders of intellectual convenience suffocates - the invisible exits amidst angry words. Arguably, we are born to sing but stifled, made to work, laboring towards the compensation of a few. Obscurity is your virtue, exploit it. Read Bukowski ''Ham on Rye', Fante 'Ask the dust' and Hamsun's 'Hunger'." -- olef ransom saulles.
"This was beautiful...don't get me wrong, depressing as hell, but beautiful. And true. I can very much relate to teachers who grade you on content rather than writing ability...highly frustrating. " -- soupprincess, Rolla, MO, USA.
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