Identities: Issue #2

Identities Raroa Writers Issue Two Inspired by the poem ‘Identity’

by Julio Noboa Polanco

Identity Poem ~ Them I would rather be like them, in the shadows, off the radar, living my life unnoticed, undisturbed.

But instead I am here, spotlighted by the world.

In the sunshine. The fake smiles plastered on my face everyday without fail.

But they are free to be who they are.

Brooding in the shadows or having silent parties.

The worst thing is to be forced to be extroverted.

When you have to be outside everyday. Socialising every waking hour.

All I want to do is be like them.

Emilia Yr 8

Luca L

Year 8

Identity Poem Let them be safe; I’d rather be in danger.

To face the pain, to fight for my life.

To hold my own against heights too great, Upon hillocky peaks, and cliffs arched over oceans.

Hiding secrets amongst the warm orange cup coral and auburn rhodophyta.

What safe really means is nothing but fake A myth made of smooth pearl essence with corners sharp as shrapnel And odd facets of translucent mendacious stories Pointing out the hidden stars in a dark night sky.

Let them live; I would rather die.

Hidden amongst shadows and ghosts.

Shattered and sad.

Broken but strong, a haunting mellifluous tune And a cold-hearted rhythm alike cold icy blues, and piercing sharp greens.

Let them feel the air on their face, feel the boiling hot water.

They can’t see the blades.

Each one stabbing where they are most vulnerable. Deeper, Deeper.

A knife that lacerates in anaesthetized places Scarring immediately.

I want them to be safe, I want to be in danger.

Amber Yr 8

Let Them Be I’d rather be a booming breaker than a calm and rolling wave I’d rather be all alone with nothing to stop me To be free, to live the life of my dreams I’d rather be brave and bold than get swallowed up by the sand To be able to crash and boom To live free To live in the eternal space of the world around me I’d rather hear the sound of pouring rain than to hear those screeching kids complaining about me I’d rather be waves rolling free, far away from any tree

I’d rather feel the fish beneath me the plastic clinging to my watery skin So, let them be calm and happy, pleasing all around them Let them be quiet and obeying Never willing to step out of line Suffering each day from the selfish humans Never thinking twice, always being taken for granted Let them wilt from the plastic Let them feel the pain from the harsh feet as they slap onto the coral reef I’d rather be a booming breaker than a calm and rolling wave Liv J Year 7

Light and Night A light bulb, brightest of the bright, lighting up the darkest night.

Lighting the candles within, never leaving us feeling thin.

The brightness glows more vivid when it's among the dark.

The light creating the brightness that leads the way, never leaving you astray.

The blossoms bloom among the gloom, beaming brighter than ever.

A beautiful array of light, the warm glow gleaming at you.

The candescent glow of the light bulb, brightening your day.

A bulb full of cracks, unable to spread light among the world.

The light we cannot see...

The darkness is beyond compare, hated, and unforgiven from there to here.

Don’t ask why you cannot see, you should blame it and not me.

The way that you see into the beyond of the dark abyss, the strange darkness leading you amiss.

The darkness that makes you feel as if it would reel you in.

Engulfing what light matters, leaving you in somewhat tatters.

The darkness is somewhat shattering when least expected.

Feeling vulnerable for you cannot see.

The light bulb broken, ruined, shattered to pieces.

Even if we don't have light to see, we still have the light of the people around you and me.

By Mia C Year 8

Let them be jungles I’d rather be thirsty and dry.

Full Of colour and admired by explorers.

Trees, flowers … never heard of them.

But destroyed by lashes of thunder and lightning. But cactuses, there my beautiful flower, there what I aspire to be, I’d rather be a desert. patient and unbreakable, no need for guidance or support.

Still and quiet.

Unexplored planes and countless uncharted While vines and bushes are watered by the generous sky species. and bathed with shade on humid days.

No expectations or standards.

I’d rather have dust storms.

Wiping out sight and leaving you with the gritty sand To be free, no barriers or tourists to please. edging its way into every crack of your sweltering body.

To be ageless and independent, yet resourceful. Than to be smashed by thunder and lightning Giving lives and livelihoods to those wiped out and exhausted. who venture far enough.

People are fighting to save the jungle, Breaking the stereotypes of inferior inhabitants. why not save the desert?

Abbey K Year 8

Let them be lions powerful and fierce. their strides shaking the earth as they advance through crowds of admirers.

I’d rather be a inky black cat wild and free roaming as I wish a cloak of invisibility laid over me .

Let them be lions, turning heads in awe all over the world as they circuit their cage desperately searching for a way to escape.

They will live and die in cages fighting in their last moments fighting there fate hopelessly trying to buy one more minute for their life was nothing special

I’d rather be a cat experiencing the wonders of the world partying in the years I have to live I would not fight or beg for a few more minutes when my time came but I would welcome death as a friend because I knew my life had been a fulfilling one.

Let them be lions Their manes glimmering as they propel themselves across there cages confined to metal bars that had surrounded them since they had opened their eyes Privacy nonexistent they would accustom themself to every scratch and dent of their metal captor under the watch of a million eyes.

I’d rather be a cat lurking in the shadows feasting in the bounty nature presented to me wandering through the nightlife as I please.

Freya M Year 8

Let them enjoy the light,

I'd rather be in the dark,

Always having the fiery sun sweeping in, and surrounding them.

Always having a corner without being disturbed,

But harnessed to being sociable.

Thinking about yesterday rather than today.

Having broken through the “rules” of life, To live, to be away from madness, To enjoy the stars, away from reality.

I'd rather be unseen, Than the centre of attention.

As to being praised, I'd rather go unnoticed, More than anything else.

Having a warm blanket to throw over my head, As soft as wool like lying on a cloud, The drop-dead cold being locked away, Rather then having a shell of confidence, Covering the truth.

The glorious feeling of being free, Against the manner of the world.

To be free, To live free, To live as me and only me

Abi G Yr 8

Identity Poem Let them be absent, Skipping class to sleep and watch TV Let them stay uneducated, Their brains resting inside their heads What if they never learn division?

Or how to write a poem ?

Perhaps they’ll never know the difference between a mixed or improper fraction Maybe they'll grow up not knowing a thing, They might be happier that way

I’d rather use my brain to learn important things.

Perhaps I’ll build tall buildings, Teach others the art of the mind, I have better things to do than stay at home I want to live my life well, Travel all around the world, Learning things as I go.

I will have a life full of knowledge and curiosity I’ll work hard and retire from the dark pool of Unknowing, Maybe I’ll be free Free of unanswered questions and of an empty brain Because who knows what I can achieve from simply Being here, Simply being present Miki Yr 8

Identity Poem River, like a tsunami cascades over the rocks, flooding the forest. Dead trees, their bark flaking off, smashing against the banks. Mud flying, spitting off the sides as if disgusted.

Carrying the animals against their will, leaving them no choice but to follow. The river is the king, the keeper of all power. Manipulative, Cunning and Forceful.

A small stream trickles through the rough rocks, caring and loving taking creatures into its arms, a warm fire of a spirit bursting through, creating a ray of sunlight on a stormy day.

Shunned, because of its small unnoticeable figure. Yet within it’s flow, thousands of things worship it. But all for different reasons. Strong is the stream, brave and valorous. A type of strong when it does things because it knows they're right, not because it wants fame.

Let the river have glory. Let the river be powerful, but I'm powerful too, in many unthinkable ways. The human embodiment of a blanket.

Genevieve J Year 8

Let it be, golden, grainy and completely useless, not once given a second thought, always getting everywhere, trampled on by everyone, never moved by its own will, only whatever direction the salty wind orders it, I’d rather be the ocean, free to travel the earth, able to see hundreds of different species everyday, imagine exploring the deepest abysses, dumping humans with my playful waves as I please.

To vary in so many colours, the wave’s crashing whitewater, the vibrant aqua shades of the surface, all the way to the mysterious black of the ocean’s floor.

Imagine being sand, staying in the same simple place your whole life, looking like every other piece of sand, seen by anyone, harmless to everyone, I’d rather be the ocean, vast, dangerous and undiscovered, a puzzle to humans, nobody knows what I hold in my hands, no one will ever know all the secrets I hide.

Milla W Year 8

Sharp eyes stare at you from a distance, longing to pounce but know they’ll never achieve.

Their owners would never let them.

They would punish them for the thing they were born to do.

I would rather be a tiger.

Ready to run, ready to pounce.

Vibrant orange fur, blinding your eyes, rigid stripes decorating their beautiful but fierce smooth coats.

Why would I want to be a cat?

Pointless, just-sit-there-and-be-cute, cats.

Strutting through the streets lazing around week after week, wasting your life away.

Bored and useless, pampered paws and shiny cleaned coats of silk.

I’d rather have humans fear me.

I don't want to be locked up, treated like a soft toy, I would rather be a lone wolf doing whatever I want whenever I want in the charming forest, seeking food, lazing in the bright ball of sun.

I can not imagine being a greedy soft cat, smelling like roses and having food and water handed to me.

Getting forced to eat sloppy processed canned meat having tap water every single day for the rest of my repetitive dull life, no change, no adventures.

I would much rather be a tiger, lurking around for different types of fresh meat.

Drinking from the sweet nectar of the clear oasis I find all over the twisted lively jungle.

Not a care in the world.

Free.

Stella P Year 8

Identity Let them play pop,

Let them win grammys,

Play rock,

Live in mansions,

Play hip-hop,

Buy islands,

Play regular, Play mainstream.

All I need is a room full of friends

I’d rather play alt,

And a few minds

Play folk-punk, Disregard genre altogether,

Let them play mainstream.

Play different,

I’d rather be myself

Play creative.

Luke M Yr 8

Issy A Yr 8