Vendor Poetry

JEN A.

I’ll meet you at the dock at six o five

And we’ll go sailing on the Cumberland

Along her scenic shores of silt and sand

We’ll take the air and let our hearts revive

The river rolls along in nature’s way

Unlike the stop and go of day to day

And maybe we will dip a toe or two

To let the water heal us through and through

We’ll pack a lunch and make a day of it

We won’t come back until the stars are lit

A day of peace and tranquil wandering

Detached from all except our own good cheer

Where there’s no need for somber pondering

To make fond memories we’ll all hold dear

BY LINDSEY FORSHAW

The demons are whispering in your ears.

They say you’re worthless, why are you here?

The pain is so unbearable, you can’t see a way out.

The only option is making suicide your next route.

As you slip your head into the noose,

Here comes rushing thoughts of truth.

Is this really the solution to a painful life?

What would this do to your husband or wife?

I know you can’t take the agony anymore.

This life’s ripped it’s claws into your core.

But, killing yourself won’t fix anythying.

It will only leave your loved ones in sorrow and misery.

You may not have anyone to count on.

But, you never will if your dead and gone.

Give yourself the chance for hope.

There’s always a light and this I know.

I too have tried to end it all.

I felt like I was always backed against the wall.

I used to think about dying every second.

That jagged blade became my ant-depressant

You’re not alone in this fight.

So, please don’t die tonight.

Give yourself an opportunity.

To begin to see what you can’t currently.

The light on the other side of your journey.

Is your final destination because your worthy.

JEN A.

I crafted a homemade contraption

to distance myself from others,

Much like the one my mother

fashioned for me years ago.

She sewed a long cone shape

with a casing at the open end

From left-over gauze she strained

grape juice through,

Her powerful hands twisting out

every last drop.

I watched with big eyes as her

strong, elegant hands

Magically transformed a wire

hanger into a circle with two

tines at either end.

She patiently threaded the wire

through the gauze casing,

And anchored it all tightly to a

bamboo pole.

Out in the yard,

She showed me how to gently

swing it through the air,

By effortlessly scooping up a wild

Swallowtail in carefree flight,

Then placed the trap in my chubby,

little hand

And encouraged me with her

shining, almond eyes,

And a hopeful nod, to follow her

example.

The contraption and I toddled

around the fenced yard all

summer long.

I relentlessly chased and thrashed

about after my colorful, delicate

prey.

But on the whole, the butterflies

evaded my grasp. I

have my father’s hands.

VICTOR J.

People look down on life because they don’t have

everything they want or everything they need.

But God said don’t give up.

BY DEANA H.

God gave us many gifts You might not know what But you will feel his lift

When you wake up every day, God has made a plan

Give Him a chance He will show you the way When things look bleak Don’t give up God’s not weak

You have strength and power from the Lord Don’t be scared get up from the floor He fills your cup He never gives up

Always believe you will make a difference In someone’s life For all you know It’s God Himself.

BY JUNE P.

People say you’re friends until

THEY DON’T GET THEIR WAY WITH YOU. THEN THEY START THREATENING YOU.

If I’m your friend, I’m there with you,

good or bad situation.

I really found out who my friends really were,

when I was going through some bad times.

Still am and my friends are still there.

To help me or just listen to me.

Who is really your friend?