Spaghetti, my beloved pasta

I grab you between thumb and forefinger,

open my mouth and let you disappear

such a tasteful happiness.

The Albatross (Charles Baudelaire 1821-1867)

Often, just for fun, the sailors

Catch albatrosses, huge birds of the sea,

Who lazily follow along as travel companions

The ship gliding over bitter, yawning depths.

As soon as they’re set down on the wooden deck,

These kings of the sky, clumsy and ashamed,

Pitifully let their great white wings

Drag beside them like useless oars.

That winged traveler: how awkward and weak he looks!

Once so beautiful, now comic and ugly!

One sailor teases his beak with a pipe,

Another mocks him, limping like a cripple who once could fly.

The Poet is like this prince of the clouds,

Who haunts the storm and laughs at the archer;

Exiled on the ground, amid jeers and mockery,

His giant wings keep him from walking.

..............................

The Classical Dancer

In the schoolyard, his classmates

mock him, copying

his graceful moves, his ethereal gaze,

with fake smiles and bent wrists.

He’s brilliant but doesn’t brag,

reads books instead of scrolling.

His voice is soft, almost a whisper.

No girlfriend. A little shy.

They invite him to parties

not because they want him there,

but because it’s funny to watch him

dance when the music isn’t his.

But alone in his room, the dancer

bare feet on the floor,

his body remembers better than words

that the world can’t reach him.

...............................

Hey, I chose the poem 'L’Albatross'  (an English version) by Charles Baudelaire, a very famous French poet. I love the contrast between the majesty and beauty of the albatross in the sky and its clumsiness on the ground, as well as the cruelty of the sailors.

I tried to imagine a similar situation in today’s world. I wanted to highlight how people who are different are often isolated and rejected in everyday life.

I’m sorry you can’t read the poem in French; the musicality of the verses and the strength of the metaphor are just beautiful.

Caroline

Impatience

choices hover

my fingers drum

time drips

my foot jumps

they linger

I still wait

Crowds

In high school every day, I was in a crowd where there was pushing and shoving to get to class, to get the lockers. Ducking, twisting and turning, it was impossible to get from point A to point B through all the teenage girls and boys. My sister saw me squirrel tunnels through the crowd. She couldn't believe how I got through so fast to make it in time for class. I was in a zone where it was stifling and I couldn't think. I just needed to make it through this maze, this labyrinth of adolescence coolness.

Debbie Strozier

Before it became a public library,

a haven for curious minds,

it was a home for modern art

a vibrant creative space.

The sky is climbing and no one watches

it's slow descent into the ground

gravediggers feel cramped in this massive

jumbling of the soul

the solitary cell of the new cities

bangs against bulletproof windows

no echo rings in this birdless weather

and I feel cold in my five layers of oblivion

the parakeet I bought in the market last month

is afraid to speak, the sun

is too far for clouds.

The day starts in darkness

The day starts in somber

It’s oh-oh-oh one on the clock

The day is born

When the day starts to grow

The night wants to say goodbye

A glass of water will touch your lips

It’s the night’s last kiss

It’s always 5am somewhere

It’s always time to make your first sip

Your sweetest sip