Palindromes

 There have been a lot of palindromes coming up in our calendar of late: 2/2/22 is the latest.  

While we did not write any palindrome poems to celebrate, you might find it intriguing to notice the interplay between the pieces we publish this month, the juxtaposition of art and word, and find your own inversions of ideas that might be considered palindromic.  We hope you enjoy this missive from midwinter . . . stay warm out there!

To the Stranger In Front of Me

The confusion my heart holds is overwhelming. I linger upon the question of this being loneliness, or a genuine spark. The rhythm of my beating heart though translates to lies in my mind. Something impossible. 

 

I could never gift my heart to a stranger. A stranger who I have known for five years. All the opportunities but none were taken. Even now, with the stranger right in front of me, I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I smile, but it is only when you look away. 

 

I hate this. The temptation to have such a love towards someone is absurd. To find comfort in someone who may not even know my name. 

 

Hope is nonetheless buried deep inside my heart despite the contradicting thoughts in my mind. Possibly they feel the same? No, that is likely not the case. How could that be? After all, I, too, am a stranger in their beautiful mind. The enigma I may never get to explore, but oh how I wish I could. After all, they are only a stranger sitting in front of me. 

by Stephanie T., Grade 9

 

artwork by Mackenzie J., Grade 7

The Old and the New

As the old year comes to an end,

And you think about the old and the new,

You think to yourself that there's no way you'd abandon the old things,

That were so special to you.

 

But as the world changes,

You do too.

Begin to reflect on things

That are old and new.

 

A fresh new layer of paint on a wall.

A brand new pair of shoes.

A different bird that will sing its song,

Delivering information and news.

 

An old, dusty piano,

With cracked and splintered wood.

Yet the notes still sound crisp and sharp,

As any piano should.

 

A new idea enters your mind,

It's terribly shocking and extremely unrefined.

But as you fix it and tune it, making it better,

You realize you just created something you'd never be able to just find.

 

Hobbies are something you're passionate about,

And you really like them too.

But as you try more things, you think:

It wouldn't be terrible to discover something else to do.

 

You think about something else -

Your bad habits and bad decisions that you choose,

And begin to wonder:

Aren't old things something you'd rather lose?

 

As you see children with gifts you'd been given

Something occurs to you just as fast:

No matter how similar a new toy would be,

It never reminds you of that toy from your past.

 

As the old year comes to an end,

And you think about the old and the new,

You realize it wouldn't be too bad to leave behind the old things…

But then again, why not keep a few?

by Richard W., Grade 7

artwork by Mackenzie J., Grade 7

Paralysis

He cups his hands and raises them to the sky

He sits and waits for rain

She does the same

How they would love to meet, but heaven knows they’ll never try

 

They sit around waiting to heal: overdosed on apathy

Staring at the ground, refusing to look at the sun

Waiting for rain

Wishing they could drench themselves in these storms

And watch the trusses bend and sway

They can breathe but would love to start living

 

They're still holding on, still waiting

"Just keep moving"

Etcetera, etcetera

Seas of people staring at their feet, their hands cupped to the sky

Who will never know what they've been waiting for

And who have missed their life flash before their eyes

by Liam R., Grade 9

artwork by Richard. W., Grade 7

artwork by Jacob D., Grade 9