A poem

We are so beautiful today,

the day after grace.

Acting with the assurance of love makes every

hour bright enough.

But I can remember a minute more than an hour and your smile

more than yesterday.

So I’ll picture your face instead of tomorrow’s

paralyzed questions.

And maybe, just maybe, the film reels of these lives

will once again run together.

- Casey Splinter

Scenes at the Otago Peninsula, NZ

A Monologue about the Underground

This monologue was originally created by me, but for a play written by an ensemble of 10 people in the playwriting class at IES London- Theatre Studies. All of us are students currently studying in London, riding the Underground everyday. Our assignment was to write a monologue that tells of a person's relationship with "The Tube," another name for the Underground.

Gary: I don't know if I can go back.

I have been going through the motions for, for the past 23 year. You know, in France, they don't even have drivers; it's all computerized. But here, here for forty hours each week I'm just a machine. I wait for the signal and go. Then, at a mark, I stop and I wait, and then I go. And every couple of minutes I press another button.

Most days I'd just dream. I'd think about what you'd make for dinner that night or who the boys would grow up to be. For the whole eight hours I'd just imagine them or I'd think about that holiday in Sicily. (beat) The other drivers did the same thing. You have to think about something more, or something better to get through the day.

I used to pay more attention. When I first started I'd notice everything: all the kids holding their moms' hands, the suits, the girls with too much luggage, the people who seemed alone, the ones calmly waiting - or the ones not waiting anymore.

There were always people not minding that yellow line. They'd be maneuvering around each other and that was the quickest way or the platform was just too crowded, but I never thought-

She didn't look like she was going to-

I didn't see her. For Christ's sake, I didn't see her! It doesn't matter if I couldn't've stopped in time or if it was on purpose or a fucking accident. One moments I was thinking about Michael's football game and then-

Do you know what it looked like? Felt like? God!
Fuck. Don't you get it?

I'm sorry.

- Sara Gosses

Gifts of Summer

I climbed the branches of an emerald tree
Because birthday candles must be made
And tied a ribbon round the thickest branch
And curled the edges with my spade
And when the jewels began to fall
And amethyst frost filled my chest
I dropped my body to the earth
And laid my head to rest.

When I had slept one thousand years
And stretched into your night
I woke to hear my name out loud
My emerald tree became a kite
The ribbon tied was still in place
The edge still held it's curl
It looped itself around my wrist
And we ran - kite and girl.

Though I am old my feet are light
Ten toes kiss jaded grass
and skim the sheen of beetles shells
as girl and kite fly past.
I walk the paths where we held hands
By diamond moon each night
And look for you by ruby sun
To deliver birthday kite.

- Trena Thomas

www.jacksonpollock.org

try it...!



- Gabe Courey

This is what it looked like to be part of a sea of faces during one of the most exciting times in America's history.







- Andy Palkowski

never all the answers

I'm bundled up
the snow falls
and I can't keep my mind from wandering
back to India, back to Nepal
Ladakh is where it wants to go

My mind is a field of music
golden and pure
wind carries the tune
to the sound of birds chirping

and I'm in heaven
I'm in the next world
no longer here in my body
and its blissful...its heavenly...it's good

the songs are writing themselves in my head
and I don't know when they will come out
in the form of music
powerful and uplifting

just like I don't know what's mystic
and I don't know where I will go
in my dream-land tonight
I never know, do I?

We never have all the answers...
it's painful
it's beautiful
...we just keep going

- Grace Denny

Sutro Baths

1. Jellyfish at Sutro Baths

2. Tide at Sutro Baths Beach

3. Sutro Baths ruins at the beach, San Francisco Golden Gate National Recreation Area

-Christine Hostetler

Paint me the morning
I want it all
The colors, the newness, the promise
Streak the sky with my desires
Fill my waking eyes with peace
Clothe me in my needed reassurance
Let me breathe in strength
Open my heavy lids to the warmth of a sunrise
I am here, ready and waiting
Arms tingling with anticipation for this next wonder
Just once, may it be for me

-Casey Splinter

Ponds

we will learn to rest when
ducks wish they could
saturate and sink
beneath a placid pond's surface
to escape the
droning of jet engines
and bickering politicians.

-Jordan Walters

a love poem, to Myself

embrace my past
(i can tell you, for sure, where i've been)

let me dream big
(i don't really know where i'll go)

embrace the Pain
the Sorrow
the Struggles
the Doubts

and dream with open arms
with open thoughts

we run through open fields
we fly through open skies.
i'll find You,
if i have to search
centuries

and love me from where it counts
from where only You can understand

i don't even know if i love You, yet
...but i will...

i will

--Grace Denny

Redemption

it's in that spark,
like a strobe--
so quick, so strong--
that i'm burned
by the reminder.
it's like a needle prick,
sucking my gasp backward:
you chose me
out of this sea
of pulverized perfections.
it's a wonder that
i didn't crumble.

-Jordan Walters

Symphony

they say you conduct
this great symphony.

each blade bends
to kiss the ground
beneath it
whenever your feet itch.

i'll swallow that.

each sunset falls
from your fingertips
when your hands ache
from the weight of
the exhalations released
by acres of clouds.

i'll swallow that.

when tumors shrink
wounds close
still hearts beat
fevers break
it's your hot breath that
melts mortality's
icy advances.

i'll swallow that.

they say you orchestrate
this quivering concert.

but
the fevers unbroken
tears undried
screams unanswered
the graves dug
and graves defiled--
did you conduct these?

did you watch?
who tied your hands?
who crippled your redemptive feet?

i can utter that you see,
i can utter that you hear,
i can utter that you know,
i can utter that you allow.
but i will not utter
that you cause,
that you willed.

i will not swallow this.

-Jordan Walters

Happy New Year!

A happy new year to everyone from the Underground! We plan to do a lot more advertising of this site to start the semester, so stay tuned for quite a few new posts this January!

Mastering the Nanny

You're tomorrow, and I'm two months ago from

the corner by sushi until forty blocks on.

You still peak in the mailbox and I carol

by subway kids who tremble fingers

in grammas' passing grocery bags.

But the treble trouble mobwaxes

wee plastic baggies without the ziplock,

and now the freezer burns the peewees.

Our molestive child somersaults, now.

Our bookmarks crinkle when flown.

Our woodelephant lactates a bit in our frilly toilet bowl,

and our glass tables, napkins, and galaxies implode.

Good news (bears) on until you get these scrunchies.

-Arin Fisher