(An empty stage. 1830’s england. A single street lamp stationed in the middle of the stage. Rain falling heavily drenching the character, who is sitting under the lamp, crying.)
Eleanor: Is there a reason why I should withstand their insults? It seems my last name means nothing to them. Must a “lady” act like she has no feelings. I am no puppe…[Read more]
Person A: Did you guys read the thing for homework?
Person B: No, thing is like 200 pages
Person C: Wait, then how did you do the homework?
Person B: (laughs) I guessed until I got 5 out of 5 correct
Person A: (laughs) How are we going to answer this then?
Person B: I’m already expecting a C in this class (shrugs)
Person A: (Laughs) I…[Read more]
She stared through the window of the eerie looking shop. She stood there pondering whether to go in or not her eyes focused on the beautifully decorated walls, dark calligraphy danced off every corner, tempting her to go in. A list of pros and cons running through her head like the end credits of a good movie. A tall boy with a huge smile waved at…[Read more]
I heard a rumor.
It travels through every willing ear, trespassing corners, its presence a lurking fog.
It swings on the slanted trees, bathing in their missing leaves, in rows of browns and greens.
It echoes in each horse’s neigh, visible in their silky manes, a rich tint of beige.
It spins in every golden wheel, the p…[Read more]
A great way to start the day.
I rush through the street, pushing through crowds,
my bus rumbling to a halt.
The traffic light changes to red, refusing to let me by,
a few seconds too long and it starts to drive off.
The anxiety kicks in.
The red merges into green.
It speeds down the street,
Jocelyn uses the repetition of the words “I ignore or I lose my job” throughout the poem to build tension. This effectively highlights the frustration and anger of the narrator. In addition, it helps the reader connect to that feeling of helplessness the narrator is illustrating. This feeling of helplessness is specifically emphasized when she…[Read more]
A great way to start the day
I rush through the busy street attempting to catch the bus
The bus rumbles to a halt
The traffic light refusing to let me run
I watch the red shift to green
But even then I was a second too late
I watch the bus drive off, my hopes went with it too
I look for the next one, a blaring 17 m…[Read more]
A cold morning
Colder than the rest
My hands numb, grabbing onto the warmth in my cup
Each step heavier than the last, “Are you okay?” asked the wind
“I’m fine” was my answer to you
But was I?
The flowers withered and cried
You were too far to see
“Can we go back in time?” I blurted out to the emptiness in my heart
“I hope you’re bet…[Read more]
Raindrops fall, tangling like ropes, drenched with enthusiasm.
Washing away every intention.
A cold shower in December.
The gray face of resentment.
Palpitations, the embrace of melancholy, and the humid touch of deceit.
Cloudburst the gift of happiness the golden color of joy.
The clocks hands move resonating an echoing tick.
Tick tick tick like a woodpecker on a tree,
impatience lingers buzzing through the air like bumblebees.
Complaints and tired murmurs flowing like a breeze.
The line refusing to move, persisting in its place, like an annoying lingering sneeze.
Waiting on line will never be as easy as it seems,…[Read more]