Man's Accomplishments

A vast labyrinth of asphalt that covers the landscape,
An uprising of concrete, glass, and steel that conquers the horizon,
A system of synthetic lights that outshine the stars.
These are the accomplishments of the infrastructure of man.

A hypocritical system that tells us to do the opposite that it teaches us,
A world that is run by money,
A place that is torn apart by demographics.
These are the accomplishments of the society of man.

A class that forces you to memorize instead of learn,
A school that doesn’t care about what the students want,
A student that learns all that matters in his future is his financial well-being.
These are the accomplishments of the education of man.

A species that destroys countless other species’ homes to make room for his own,
An animal that breeds and kills other animals for mass production of food,
An organism that is the self-proclaimed ruler over all other organisms.
These are the accomplishments of the survival of man.

These are the accomplishments of man.

Just a Taste

I'm done with the birds,
The rain,
The clouds
And the sky.
The tears have dried up and so has the tide.
People stare in wonder and just ask themselves why?
But I know the answer its just far out from their sight.

Why care when the sky falls if you've known how to fly?

And why wait for heaven when we were all born to die?

I'm educated in the mind.
Future has its own shine.
Sunglasses don't do shit so i'm buying me some blinds.
I can match words together light it up and make it rhyme.
Two metaphors in one just follow the signs.
Get yourself in line,
Don't sit back . . .
Be a user.
Your potential is waiting so don't ever abuse her.
Cuz you're needing her like they need power to a computer.
These kids that give up are all just a pack of losers.
Living as a sinner,
Throwing the towel down and dishing in before dinner.
Never called a winner.
Always taking blank shots,
Labeled as an undirected shooter.
Curious in my view so just know that I'm the future.




They come and go like the rain. . . but there's somthing different about you,
It'll never be the same.
Never be the same like a chemical change.
That life is outta sight its way outta my range.
I'm so off target, cuz i'm missing you.
My life is being flipped idk what to do.
It's not like i'm a gymnast
these flips i cannot withstand.
I wish there was a guide on how to be a man. . .
That book must've fell down a portal.
Because in this age the world's lost all morals.

So many people that we've met.
With no footprints left,
No interaction involved and that's a thing we regret.
But we all feel the same thing,
Always yearning for something more.
Wishing we did something different or had more open doors.

The World's Awakening

2:00 am, 2012

all the world's asleep

some stragglers of the norm lie awake

not sure of what theyre waiting for, but still, they wait

they lie in bed, clutching their sheets, afraid for what tommorow will bring

these are the men and the women that falsify the belief in the american dream

yet, in reality, the american dream consists of a very violent ending to a dreary story

2:15 am, 2012

a faint rumbling is heard in the distance

none yet those who have the sharpest of hearing rise to it

all the others in the little country have no knowlege of it whatsoever

as the rumbling becomes a more deafening boom, they rise from their humble abodes

2:30 am, 2012

fear washes through those of them that are old enough to understand

jealously comes over those that realize that they will have to see it, feel it

rage consumes those who believe that the impending actions are not fair to them

sadness washes over those who do not understand the next step in life, or lack thereof

2:45 am, 2012

it is times such as these, that the true colors of all people show themselves

the ugly truthes hidden deep inside one another rear their ugly heads

many see this as the last time that they will be able to say everything that they have wanted to

nothing will be hidden now, people think

it is interesting that in the face of an imminent threat, people release all feelings

3:00 am, 2012

with a whistling overhead, the people of the land have just enough time to look up

and within a millisecond, their future is upon them

6:00 pm, 2012

the first of the lucky few start to stir

every breath they take of the toxic air seems to feel as heavy as their first in life

yet as light as their last

they lie as they were when it first started, taking in the first signs of life they didnt expect to see

the only thing to do now is to start life over

everything you ever knew, anything that ever was, is now just a faint memory

a faint memory that eventually, like your past, will fade

Day 1, 9:00 am, 2012

little children, playing along the ruined lands

searching for what will never be found

the life they once had, or knew

they will always search

yet never find

life is gone

forever.

Stop Here On Red

Streetlight, House, Streetlight, House, Streetlight, House

The car blows through the dull Friday night air in zero gravity.

We try so hard to find an identity in our community
indulging in endless confrontations with apathy and hedonism,
retracing our adolescent footsteps
looking for the carelessness and joy that we left behind

The 1998 Toyota Corolla with manual locking doors is our spaceship now

The glory of a first skateboard is the gift of speed,
the gift of flight
Oh Go Get High
Even with our growth
We will never touch the sky like we did
in those days

The radio system bumps sound waves that trek through the stars

The commotion is a combination of all my childhood dreams
the volume is a steep contrast to the silent backdrop of suburban nightlife
The bass drum bounces like a pinball
the treble tone sends us toward the moon
and I start to remember my thoughts as a kid:

summertime, the surreality of cartoons, being able to fly

We used to ask questions that accelerated our dreams
Now, we settle for materials and images
Images of others; Images of Ourselves
all to satisfy our intimidation by improbability
The idea of growing up is so superficial

What if?

We dress old school; aerodynamically
Vans laced to the top like a Z-Boy
Hi Top Adidas with no laces like Run DMC
They cannot touch us tonight
because the sky is our playground
there are no limits to our dreams

The sign reads "Stop Here on Red"

So lets dance
while our blood is still red with passion and excitement
like we were children
just at this light
until it turns green with envy
at how much fun we shouldn't be having at our ages

We are heroes of definition

Two Poems by Matt Mignosa

Naked Meditation


Alas! I am free,
No longer constricted by the tight coils of society,
My body: no longer burdened by the unneeded,
My mind: no longer wasted by the trivial.

Freedom flows through my nakedness,
Winding its way through my body,
Gushing into my head.

As I journey into the depths of my mind, I stare in wonder and awe at the beauty and strangeness this newfound freedom has revealed,
I find myself traveling to the unknown territories of the mind,
As I follow the flow of freedom, I visit endless paradises,
Utopia now has true meaning,
Perfect is no longer an exaggeration.

As I sit here,
Completely naked,
Eyes closed,
Legs crossed,
I find that there are no limits,
Concrete becomes abstract,
Finite becomes infinite.

The Disease

Gaia is plagued by a disease,
It is obliterating her appendages,
It is massacreing her children,
It is changing her chemical being,
It is leaving unsightly marks, abrasions, and swellings on her body.

What is this powerful force destroying Gaia?
What is responsible for the total desecration of this living organism we call Planet Earth?...

The human being.

The Beginning Of a New Medium

Sherwood has so much writing talent that gets overlooked due to the lack of creative writing mediums that exist in the school. So we took it upon ourselves to make something that accommodates to the following people who have previously been neglected:

Poets
Prose Stylists
Essayists
Sages
Raconteurs
Philosophers
Activists
Absurdists
Spiritual En
Ministers/Preachers
Really Pissed Off People Who Love to Write While Angry
Non-Mainstream Music Critics
Travel Writers
Advocates of Peace
Speakers of War
Anyone with an intuitive and creative idea who is passionate for writing.

We will not discriminate. We will work together. The only thing that should be censored is narrow-mindedness.

This is simply a medium for creativity. Hopefully, it will blossom into something greater.