Arts Features – Clarion Poetry Submissions
By Makayla Smith, Clarion Staff
You pushed through over the hurdles of doubt
You may have have fell once but
You got back up and kept runnin’
You had people tell you different
Holding you back from your purpose
Wanting you to stay and wait
But you left and kept runnin’
No matter how hard it was
You didn’t look back
Now it wasn’t always easy
With constant weight being put on your shoulders
You wanted to give up
People constantly in your way
Tellin’ you different
Holding you back from your journey
Pleading you to stay and wait
The only difference is now
You decided to look back
You wanted a break
So you slowed down
Stickin’ with the people that holding you back
Watching everyone else pass you up
A part of you wants to keep going ‘
Another part is that you still held on
To the ones you were still running with
Up until a certain point
Up until you realize
Time racing by quickly
So you rise
The people tugging at your feet
Still begging you to stay and wait
You run as fast as you can
Away from them
You getting back on track
You mustn’t stop now
You almost at the finish line
Just keep on going
You see people cheering you on
Even the ones that love you the most
Challenges and obstacles you faced
Jumped over the hurdles of doubt
You may have fallen
But you got back up
You finished the race
So I say congratulations my love
By Anna Gudzeva, Clarion Contributor
I watch the forest
Through my window
The forest seems enchanted
By Winter Magician
Under the thick snow
is mute, motionless, and shining with life
Not dead, nor is it alive
enchanted by the magical dreams
completely covered, with the wings of fallen angels
If winter sun cast a sudden flare
Looking over its summits,
Not a thing will shake it.
It will sparkle and flame
And be blindingly fair.
Between the Silence and Sound
By Maya Vargas, Clarion Contributor
Her throat ached
From singing too loud and too often.
But she didn’t stop.
When she sang, she had to lift up her head.
She had to push back her shoulders
And summon the melody that had forged itself
as a second language that dared
to whisper its native tongue to her volatile soul.
It dared to break the façade of silence that disguised
Her utter malaise as pathetic complacency.
It threatened to make her use the voice she had tried
So hard to choke down.
The voice that swelled in her throat and fought to crawl its way out in sobs and screams.
It clawed and scratched until, finally, she succumbed to
The vulnerable appeal of the foreign tune.
And she sang.
She sang until her façade was obscured to reveal pain,
Who had built a home in her mind and a metropolis across her body.
She sang until anguish seeped out from her pores and trickled down into the ocean at her feet.
She sang until the familiar faces of guilt and anger surrendered themselves to the fierce hurt, ringing from the dialect that was only felt but never spoken.
Never spoken until she decided to give in. Until she sang.
In her melodic disarray, she tried in desperation to reach the reality that reeked of fiction, to grasp at the resolution of even just dim rapture.
But her throat ached.
Her eyes stung.
Her skin tingled from the rare, heated blood.
And she realized that broken bodies can only reach so far.
We, the Hmong
By Chai Lia Vue, Clarion Contributor
We, who fought and lost
We, who will never find our own land
Though, we expressed
Our existence on art
We, who first came
Throughout our life, we faced a difficult hardship.
As guns shot loudly, our instinctual told us
To run as far as we can
Running for our lives
From danger to find freedom
Like a lost bird finding its’ home.
Those beautiful blue eyes
And long blonde hair had disappeared
We, who lost our land
Those million tears that were shed
Can never be replace
As guns shots got closer,
Their hands slipped.
As it’s raining cats and dogs,
No one seem to notice
Their little sweet boy was
The beautiful clear rushing river now became
The wind waves back and
Was forever lost.
But, we are proud of
Who we are
Throughout any hardship,
We will face together.