Sprayberry's Vox Humana

STAY E.L.

2009-03-13T12:25:00.002-04:00

I will push you down
I won't let you go
I will cover your mouth
So you cannot say no

I will hold you so tight
You won't be able to move
I will whsper in your ear
I have something to prove

I won't make it hurt
I promise you this
It will be so pleasureable
Like something of pure bliss

You won't know what happened
The very next day mine
But I wll still be there
So you better obey

You will be mine
For this I swear
If u agree
Your life I will spare

You and I will be together
Till we part at a death
For if you run
That will be your last breath

Strawberry Ice Cream C.M.

2009-03-13T12:22:00.001-04:00

I spilled icecream on my shirt last night
And its companionshp with the cake cone was destroyed.
Sometimes I'm clumsy
And it stinks.

L.R. VOX Submission

2009-03-13T12:19:00.002-04:00

If I were an instrument
I would be a violin-
Because I can be loud...and quiet.

Rejected A.K.

2009-03-13T12:12:00.002-04:00

How does it feel to know that someone hangs on to every word you say, listening to the rhythm of your voice, the way your face changes as you express your words, the lull your voice causes when you read out loud? It must feel nice to know that a good day for you makes someone else's day. Iwonder how it feels to know that he wishes you'd acknowledge him for a moment, even f in a negative way, just because for the split second, he will cease to exist in the bland reality around him and will earn existence in your world of perfection. How does it feel to kow that you have the power over someone else to snap him out of his reveries in just a quick instance of your life? How did it feel when you did it?

Finding Words in the Shadows By: K.I.

2008-12-10T12:03:00.002-05:00

Staring at the blank page in front of me
My mind at a loss for words
Why is this so difficult?
I find myself isolated, alone
No one is here with me in this world
I am a brilliant mind, misunderstood
All the others just don't understand me
I am different; no one wishes to befriend the outcast
So i sit here, trying to write or draw
Making friends with shadows on my wall
They say I'm insane; they don't know me
I'm not crazy. I'm just a little unwell
Where is all this leading?
Some would say I'll lose my mind
One day someone will love me
Angels with silver wings shouldn't know suffering
But will anyone ever call me an angel?
That's just the way it is...
I know nothing will ever change.
Fate is out to get me, a mere little girl
But I'm getting better at fighting the future.
Until then, I'm making friends with the shadows on my wall
But I think I've found my words

Get ready for the FOXY VOXY!

2008-12-08T10:55:00.002-05:00

Vox Humana will be releasing a love/hate edition of the Vox, just in time for Valentines Day, entitled FOXY VOXY. Expect it to be available by February 2009.

-Andrew-

Believe By G.B.

2008-10-17T10:18:00.000-04:00

I want to believe
I really
Some people find it so easy
It just makes sense to them
Well, lucky them
It doesn’t make sense to me
The more I try to convince myself its true
The more I end up not convincing myself it’s true

People who don’t think too much are always happier
Me, I cant seem to stop thinking
Instead of answer, I get more questions
Unsettling questions
Questions that keep me up all night
Wondering worrying

I cannot believe.
I just can’t.

Fail. by A.B.

2008-09-23T11:03:00.002-04:00

you learn from your mistakes. you'll do better next time. it happens to everyone.
go on.
keep talking to yourself.

making yourself feel any better?
glorify it all you want.
you still screwed up.

Art

2008-08-25T10:48:00.007-04:00

We're Back!

2008-08-25T10:46:00.001-04:00

After a long summer break, Vox is back, so expect to see plenty of new art, poems, and stories....very, very soon.

Nihilist by B.E

2008-05-01T09:28:00.000-04:00

He believes in nothing at all.

In this way, he cannot fall.

In his mind there’s no concept of war.

Nor of the peace that was before.

If believing is seeing, then he is blind.

Lost in the dark far behind.

Right or wrong he cares not

To him, it’s all or nothing that he’s got.

Dear G_d by Z.A

2008-05-01T09:27:00.000-04:00

Dear G_d,

I think we’re missing something.

Tell Me That Lie by A.A

2008-05-01T09:26:00.004-04:00

Look me in the eye

And tell me that lie

You care about me?

Your actions make that impossible to see

As I stand here and look at you

I will tell you something true

You are wrong

I let you stay around way to long

That was my mistake

You need to leave now.

I'm Done by A.A

2008-05-01T09:26:00.003-04:00

I promised not to yell

If you promised too

That was sent to Hell

You say I need to trust you

You say not to listen to what I hear

You need to learn to trust me too

I don’t deserve this

I don’t want to hear the excuse

I don’t want a kiss

I don’t give a damn what you say

At this point its too little way too late

Look At Me by A.A

2008-05-01T09:26:00.001-04:00

Come, rise up to me

Raise your face to mine

I need you to be whole again

Hold me and never let go

You promised to never leave

Be there whenever I needed

Why then cant you look at me.

GH by C.D.

2008-05-01T09:03:00.001-04:00

Green, red, yellow
blue, orange
5 buttons to create a hero
try expert, if you dare, it's no slow ride

1, 2, 80's, 3
sum 41, Boston, Priest, Cooper
relentlessly streaming buttons fall
you passed 91%
success is short lived
failure is inevitable

Paramour J.N

2008-04-25T09:47:00.000-04:00

The Paramour

The morning was cool and shrouded in a veil of fog, casting an eerie shadow over the already somber dawn. While most of the world was tucked soundly in their beds, dreaming the sweet and naïve dreams of spring and love and all the other irreverent fantasies that dreams are heir to, I stood contemplating my actions and the inevitability of loss. I swam through an acidic sea of alternate endings, each of which pierced to the quick and left me completely and utterly lost. But in the midst of this terrible contemplation, at the pinnacle of my woeful ponderings, I noticed a bird. It was not unlike the others I had already seen this morning, but there was something about it that drew me. Oh, how I remember longing to be that bird...He landed on a post not even a foot away from me, and his mere presence, his majesty, reminded me of everything I had once dreamt of being, yet had thrown away for the fleeting joys of lust. For a second, he looked at me, and I stared back. He was so majestic perched there in that proud way, surveying the scenery with a keen eye and sounding his commanding call across the morning horizon. As the veil of fog thickened around us and all I could see was his silhouette, this bird manifested into an alabaster phantasm of what I would never be, and as I looked into those crystal ball-like eyes, I was momentarily diverted from my harsh reality. But as the bittersweet siren-song of the horn began to sound and pulsate through my very being, beckoning me towards my departure, my savior, the apparition of my lost self, fluttered away to join the rest of his flock and left me to myself.

However, I was newly rejuvenated. The prospect of what I was about to embark on, and the reminder of who I was travelling to meet made me realize how much I needed this adventure, and thus propelled me towards my future. Just as I reached this revelation, as I surmounted the gloominess of the breaking dawn and took the first step on what would be an undoubtedly long and wearisome adventure, I felt a light tap on my right shoulder. I knew the lightness of this touch, so gentle, so soft, that if you weren’t expecting it, weren’t nervously anticipating it, you would never be able to feel it, be able to fall in love with it. I peered over my shoulder, down my worn gray smock and right into her iridescent amber eyes. Oh Tera, sweet Tera, I knew you would come…

“Don’t go…please, please, please don’t go!” was all she managed to sputter to me. Her face was contorted into an expression of resilient resistance which is normally reserved for either the mortally wounded or the heartbroken, but in this case, it was for neither, yet both. I could tell she was trying to hold back the tears, but it was a feeble attempt, and as we stood there together in silence, a stream of tears began to roll down her cheek. She was beautiful even then as she stood there fully vulnerable and stripped to her bare emotions, and by all rights I should have told I her I loved her and that she was the only one I loved and that everything would be alright and above all I should have told her just how beautiful she really was, but I simply kissed her. For a moment her face relaxed and I surged through her like I had so routinely done for the past five years, and like my encounter with the phantom bird, I was mercifully unaware of just how severed the ties between us had become.

Then, I left.

I left Tera and everything else from my tired worn out life behind and I was gone. I was gone for a long, long time. But every day was the same beautiful fantasy all over again, so to be honest, I didn’t mind it much at the time. I would awake perched high above the world, floating in and out of consciousness, and often times I’d become nauseous and vomit, and as I scraped the taste of the previous night’s dinner from my tongue—and much like the impermanent pin-prick of love it always seemed to linger and sting longer after its second-coming—I would watch the sun come up over the horizon. But it did not rise to light the world or to guide man on his eternal trial of life; oh no, it rose simply to cast a brilliant glow over my lover as she sighed and rolled quietly in front of me. I would stare at her for hours, or perhaps it was merely minutes and I simply became so enwrapped in the eloquence of her beauty that I lost track of time, and she would simply roll and sigh there in front of me as I intently gazed upon her peaceful and reposed figure. Then, as if out of nowhere, she would open wide those beautiful azure eyes of hers, one after the other in that gentle and longing way that she always did, as if she had known I had been staring at her for so long, and she surely did, for it was the same way every day. Yet we both acted, perhaps simply for the sake of novelty, as if this was the first time we had ever awaken to the penetrating eyes of other. She would playfully cast me a smile which I am sure would have put Helen herself to shame were they to have ever met (and undoubtedly, they had), and she would blow me a kiss, and it would land with a silent, soft brush against my cheek as soft as the grace of God, and then, as routinely as sun does rise, we would begin the routine of our spin-cycle love. All day we would roll and sway under the comfort of a beautiful blue blanket that not only accented the color of my lover’s eyes, but began to blur into them until the two became almost indistinguishable from each other, and everywhere I looked I saw those stunning blue eyes. We were completely absorbed in one another, I a part of her as much as she was a part of herself. Oh sweet, beautiful Marina…never shall I forget the wonder of our tryst. But, like all good things, after almost nine months of endless love, my fantasy (or fallacy, depending on how you view it) came to an end.

I remember returning. I distinctly recall taking a long contemplative walk back to where I lived. But make no mistake that this was not my home, for as it is known, home is where the heart is, and that case my home was with Marina. Yet, I still found myself there, standing in that once again foggy mid-morning solitude as I reluctantly contemplated the past nine months and love and life and love again. However, like that morning that seemed so long ago, with the phantom bird with piercing eyes, I summoned the courage and began the ascent of my apartment stairs. I took each step slowly and deliberately, for I was scared of what awaited me inside the door at the top of those stairs. I almost could not bare it. But, despite my efforts, my feet carried me where my heart would have otherwise dared not to tread. I stared at the door to my apartment for a moment, almost with the same intensity which I habitually had for staring at Marina, but it was a different kind of meditative stare. It was one of disinclination, of fear.

Then suddenly, without warning, the door swung open. Standing there was

Tera with her deep, penetrating amber eyes staring right into me, into my heart, and she knew. She had begged me not go, pleaded almost unendingly, but in the end she had trusted me, and I, being the weak-hearted romantic I was, had let her down. She never asked me about it, she never needed to, she just looked me in the eyes with a stare that burrowed into me, past my eyes, through my brain, down my spine, and eventually clawing its way right into the very core of my being, into my heart (which now belonged to someone else), and she just knew. I stood there in the hall with the briny scent of infidelity about me, reeking to high heaven with the permeating odor of betrayal on my skin and the brackish taste of disloyalty on my lips, and could do nothing but force a feigned smile and pretend like nothing was wrong. But she knew. She knew all too well. She was kind, forgiving as always, and kissed me on the cheek and faked a smile right back and welcomed me to come inside.

As I crossed through the door frame though, I was instantly hit with a very unfamiliar smell, one of sanitization, of youth, of birth.

And then I saw him.

He was curled into a little ball on the carpet, staring at his toes as analytically as I had just stared at the familiar door to my house. He studied them meticulously, taking in every detail, however minute, and truly taking them to heart. He reveled in how his little toes curled from the cold winter air seeping into the apartment through the half-open window; he giggled at the little wrinkles made as he moved his foot back and forth. I made a step towards him, and he immediately turned his head towards me, his green eyes agape and studying me as fixedly as he had his toes.

“His name is Adam,” Tera proclaimed. Adam…the name seemed appropriate. The name given by God to the first man at the beginning of time was also the name of my son, who came into my life to engender a new beginning. He gurgled and cooed and laughed, and all the while, I just kept on staring. Then I approached him. I sauntered up to where he lay so carefree, so blissfully on the carpet and picked him up. He wriggled a little at first, even let out a little sigh of ill comfort, but then, as my eyes caught his evaluative stare, he stopped, and, like his mother once had before him, stared unblinkingly into my eyes. It was in that moment that I knew I could not leave again, not with him here now. As I cradled my newborn son in my arms, I made a silent vow to protect him, to love him with the passion I had once lustily had for my paramour; and in that moment, all the love I had previously had in my heart was transformed from the deterioration of evanescent lust to the everlasting and dogged strength of the love a parent unconditionally feels for their offspring. It was my renaissance.

So for many years I stayed there with Adam and Tera, I even began to think of the apartment we rented as home again, for truly my heart was with Adam, and as he grew, so did my love for him. And not only was this little babe the savior of my previously covetous life, but he was also a panacea for all of the tension between me and Tera. She and I reveled in the act of watching our inquisitive little boy grow and blossom into the stoic young man that we always knew that he would be; and in the ecstasy of family life I found myself almost completely devoid of nostalgia, almost entirely rid of the erotic recollections of my past. Yet there were always those fleeting moments—perhaps a remindful scent caught lingering on the upper of my lip, or the familiar brush of the wind which I often mistook for the enticing touch of a former lover—and in them I would momentarily stop, and with me time itself would halt, and have to catch its breath as I attempted to regain my composure; but then Adam would gurgle, or laugh, or cry, and instantaneously I would be ripped from the illogic of my fantasy and back into the tumultuousness of fatherhood. I did miss Marina…but I was far too enwrapped by my responsibility as a parent to allow myself the physical pleasure of promiscuity.

Things were fine then. Except both Tera and I were hard up for work, and try as we might we had quite the struggle simply trying to put food on the table each night, let alone pay the rent each month. But we managed. We managed for seven long years of constant toil and turmoil just to keep a roof over our heads (even if it did leak on rainy nights and let a terrible draft in during the cold seasons) and food in our stomachs (even if it was often times the souring leftovers from a meal prepared a week or two ago). But after Tera fell ill, became irreparably debilitated from the flu, and I lost my job at the local bar, things seemed bleak. However, I was approached with a job offer, one that would not only pay for food and rent for the next few months, but also help pay for hospital bills, help pay to improve Tera’s quickly deteriorating health. So, foolishly, I accepted the offer.

I stood in the street with my bags in hand and waiting for the buggy to arrive and take me to meet my employer. Adam stood next to me, clad in a blue and green striped shirt and tattered jeans, staring at me with the same penetrating intensity he had when he first saw me. Those eyes, now morphing from the illuminescent emerald of his infancy to an almost fading cerulean, stared straight into me, read me like I was an entrancing novel with a timeless story quickly scribed on worn out and fraying pages—a trait that he inherited from his mother. We stood there together in the morning fog that always seemed to accompany my departures, both thinking in sync with the other, neither of us needing to say a word, for we both knew that we were thinking of the same heartfelt goodbyes and that simply being there together and taking in the welcomed aura of the sunrise was good enough of a farewell. Adam heard the sound of the buggy first, but I was quicker to see it round the corner. It was a ghost, a silhouette floating through the veil of the morning fog with the same fearsomeness of a hell-sent demon. He turned his head up to look at me and cast me a glance unlike any I had ever seen him give before. It was the same look I imagine a soldier would give on a cold, pallid morning as he lay belly-down in the crimson-carpeted landscape of a heated battle and watched in haunting dismay as his best friend is blown to a thousand pieces in front of him. He did not want me to go. But, for his sake, and my sake, and his mother’s sake, I had to. So, as the buggy pulled up to the curb and opened wide its doors like the arms of a father welcoming home his prodigal son, I looked down at my own and, like I had done so to his mother so long ago that the memory had merely become just another indistinguishable string in the tapestry of my life, I kissed him. So many things ran through my head, through his head, yet we both knew that the kiss was enough. I got in that buggy and rode away from my home while my son stood in the street with his hands in his falling-apart jeans pockets and all I did was watch through the rear-view window as the mourning fog engulfed him and he became just another lingering shadow among the fading glow of the streetlamps and my dreams.

I arrived accordingly at my new boss’s office and we had a brief discussion; I say it was brief not because it needed to be, but because I made it so. I entered to the usual feigned welcomes and thank-you’s that employers routinely use to lure their workers into a false sense of security. “Thank you for replying to our ad, we truly appreciate it.” “Would you like a drink?” “How was the ride over here? I hope it wasn’t too rough.” All useless, silly phrases used to pull you in, make you think they’re your friends when in reality they are nothing more than false-advertising imbeciles. But nevertheless, we both exchanged pleasantries. However, it was what he mentioned after that began to throw me. “Sir, I’m afraid that the previous job has been filled…We do, however, have an alternate and equally paying job.” At that point there was one of those long moments of silence, the kind of silence that unrelentingly bellows in your ear for just a few seconds, but the sheer power of the silence—so terrible that it leaves a ringing in your ears—seems to lengthen it tenfold, and leave you helplessly standing there in confusion. Sometimes I still think I hear that ringing, like a far-off and distant threnody humming ever-so-slightly over the whispers of my thoughts. I knew why he had been so silent. My new job would force upon me the most devious of human acts: it would force me to endure the trials of working with a former lover. Marina…sweet, beautiful Marina. I did not want to, but for Adam, I knew I must.

So I took the job.

For the first couple of weeks my former paramour and I simply coexisted; I did all in my power to avoid her (averted my stare from her radiance, worked with increased vigor to decrease the time we were forced to spend together, etc.) and she coincidentally did the same. But this simplistic coexistence did not last long.

I remember staring at a sunset, watching as the sun’s last few rays cast a brilliant aura across the horizon, melting everything together as if the world were a canvas for watercolors and the paints had become so diluted, so saturated, that the colors began to unwillingly run together. Then I felt that gentle breeze-like touch I once knew so well, and turned over my right shoulder to see Marina standing with her arms akimbo and a sad, disenchanted look painted upon her face. She just stared for a moment, as if she was waiting for me to say something, to apologize, to lament, but I couldn’t say anything, I simply stared right back. And it was then that those beautiful eyes of hers, those little universes of diamonds and stars and bluebirds, began to cloud over until they were the ugliest of gray and menacing. She began to scream, and wail, and flail her arms around in an inexplicable fit of rage. She lashed out at me and started to pound her once soft hands into my face. She hit me; she beat me; she ravaged me. Over and over tossed me until I simply could take no more. It was the blood-rage of the broken-hearted that drove her, and in her delusional state she stabbed me repeatedly until I simply fell asleep.

So like all good stories, this one ends as it began. Except now, instead of being enveloped by the cool and what I would now retrospectively consider soothing blanket of morning fog, I lay with my stomach to a cloudy sky and my back stained in the deserving shade of crimson. As I begin to fade, I see winged alabaster fly overhead, and I recognize my phantom bird at once. So free, so peaceful, the grandeur of the life I could have had flies by so quickly that I think it might just be and apparition, and to be honest—like life itself—it very well may have been. As the sun begins to crest over the horizon, I finally close my eyes and let myself begin to sink, all the while only thinking one thing: “Adam…Adam…Adam.”

Thus ends this sad yet venerable lore, of this sailor and his paramour.

Unity by A.S.

2008-03-13T09:30:00.000-04:00

Casual, welcoming, exciting
Unity
Spending the time together
In the sun, at a parkSharing thoughts, connecting ideas

Nature's Devotion by B.C.

2008-01-16T09:21:00.000-05:00

Suffered from its environment
A tree, the middle of the ocean
It suffers from its location
There's no choice that hasn't been chosen

If you listen closely, the wind breathes:
I planted my seed in a solitary spot
Then it made sense, and now
Intimately touched, Made clear, it does not

Nature isn't planned, nature isn't perfect
There exists no miraculous flow, Instead:
Nature lays back, like an irresponsible child,
Painting with colors then letting them run wild.

Water by S.B.

2008-01-16T09:19:00.002-05:00

Water rushing down my face
The ice from the water numbs me
How did they sneak up & dunk me?

Time's Cruel Hand W.P

2008-01-16T09:19:00.001-05:00

All was stopped, nothing moved, no one took a breath...Time stood still, but he did not, the world was his, no one could tell him what to do because no one else was free.
To be trapped in time must be a horrible fate, reliving the exact same moment in time for all eternity never growing, never changing. He thought about the fate of those he knew the horrors that complete strangers would be reliving for eternity, but he dismissed those thoughts from his mind, it didn't matter, if he wanted he could change their moments he was the almighty to those stuck in time, a deity of greed. As he walked through busy streets toward oncoming cars, he laughed as he passed them. In foreign nations he watched bullets frozen in mid-flight yearn to reach their targets, he watched soldiers fall and fight...Yet, of all the things he thought about he never let the one question formed deep in his mind come to the surface, why was he not frozen along with the world? Sometimes people disguise their fears with acts of hatred, other times they seek power to attempt to hide their own lack of self confidence...As those who thought they knew him watched from afar, the tiny spark of freedom they had from time's cruel grip slowly realized this was not the case, something about him had changed. Perhaps time's grip did have him, for all of existence people state that time was a cruel and fickle master. Perhaps time had different plans for this one; Just maybe time's cruel hand had begun to swing its pendulum.

Untitled by T.S.

2008-01-16T09:18:00.001-05:00

Barren, cold, empty
desolation.
Drifting aimlessly.
Within and outside of the universe
awaiting death.
seeking peace.
the void of all that is

Fire A.B

2008-01-16T09:17:00.000-05:00

Pyromania's my favorite illness
Arson'll put you away for years
A chain of grocery stores, burnt to the ground

Handwave by A.B.

2008-01-16T09:14:00.000-05:00

He waved @ that girl

You could tell he liked that girl

I wish I was her.

Untitled by T.N.

2008-01-16T09:12:00.000-05:00

We ran out of time.
You ran out of control.
We ran out of strength.
I ran out of hope.
You ran us into the ground.

Hills and Valleys& Bem B.C

2008-01-16T09:10:00.000-05:00

At the bottom of a hill
In the English countryside
A small child, dressed in white
Looks up to the peak, hopefully

His father's house, on the other side
Sports the most creative of structure
A roofline just low enough
To be hidden by the crest of a hill

Bem
In the very same moment
As an officer's bullet
Travels down a gun

The juice of a ripe mango
trickles down the face
Of a child, having fun

The Vox is now on sale!

2008-01-10T09:43:00.000-05:00

The Vox is now on sale.You can purchase a Vox at lunch.You can buy the spring 2007 Vox for $2 and the Fall 2007 Vox for $4, or you can buy both for $5.

Drawing by N.H.

2007-12-11T10:58:00.000-05:00

Bubblebath by A.G.

2007-11-14T09:06:00.000-05:00

I left the water running in the tub all night.

I stuffed a towel under the door.

Too bad daddy was to cheap to pay for those swimming lessons you always wanted.

Ba-Duh Ba-Dum L.D

2007-11-14T09:05:00.000-05:00

I woke up this morning tears filling my eyes
Sat down to breakfast
Nothing quite seems the same
Nothing quite feels right
I start to ponder I start to think
Maybe i'm going to die alone
Ba-Duh Ba-dum Ba-duh duh duh
I walk to the mirror to a face so withdrawn
I move my pale skin through my red hair
I start to cry again
I don't want to die alone
Ba-duh Ba-dum Bah-duh duh duh
I turn on the music in wild desperation
I walk out the door with Ingrid playing through the windows
a kid starts to smile I turn my head
Maybe he won't die alone
Ba-duh Ba-dum Ba-duh duh duh
I flutter my eyelashes at the butterfly on my nose
I see up the road and there you pull up
You start to smile and I run with excitement
Maybe I won't die alone
Ba-duh duh duh dum

Doing Time. by A.B.

2007-11-14T09:03:00.000-05:00

I threw myself down the stairs for an added effect.

I called the police and told them you beat me.

Don't pick up the soap.

My Nirvana T.N

2007-11-14T08:59:00.000-05:00

Sleep Heals
Sleep hurts
Sleep is my switchblade knife
with a handle, nothing more than a sharper edge
the harder i hold to it
the more I bleed

The moment my head retires to the pillow
the blood begins to pool in my brain

This is when I feel my ever nostalgic mind
Frantically clinging
to the past

Grasping desperately for something no longer existent

I reminisce
I digress
I slip slowly into my 8 hour coma
My Nirvana

Untitled by Z.A.

2007-11-14T08:58:00.000-05:00

This is what you thrive on,

Your fear is your desire.

You burn, you burn,

You burn on.

You feed your fear wth fire.

Inhale follows exhale,

Deeper now

And slower.

The fear that fed your fire;

The fear that fed desire.

The fear has left you living,

The fire left you cold.

Desire burn your fire;

For fear, you sold your soul.

Untitled by D.G.

2007-11-14T08:53:00.001-05:00

It was almost our turn.
We were watching abother team from behind.
Everyone around me was dead silent...
except for a group of freshman in the back.
We stepped onto our stage while we were being announced
a roar of applause
a signal
and a countdown

We were off.

Poems by B.P

2007-11-14T08:53:00.000-05:00

New autumn leaves
Crisp with many rich colors
Descend upon fall

As I listen to my playlist
an interfusion of the boys
Soulja and Fall Out
Now watch me
Dance, Dance
Youuu! Am I more than you bargained for?
I realized that this playlist
My playlist
Is many worlds colliding
creating a musical mosaic

Beautiful's
awful traffic
sylvia's and peachtree
Lenox mall where one can shop for days
Clark Atlanta, underground
our music with it's distinct sound
I love being Atlanta born and raised.

Fear Itself by K.I

2007-11-14T08:49:00.001-05:00

Fear of shadows
Creeping from the hallway
Fear of floorboards
Creaking under unknown feet
Fear of fire
Burning everything in sight
Fear of toxin
Poisoning the air and water

There is no escape
nowhere to run to
No way to get away
Engulfed in fears

Fear of dying
Death's hand clenching the throat
Fear of mountains
Heights too high to conquer
fear of others
People always doing harm
Fear of darkness
Demons lurking in the lack of light

There is no escape
Nowhere to hide
No way to get out
Consumed by fear itself

The greatest phobia

Just oned more life B.S

2007-11-14T08:41:00.000-05:00

She couldn't brethe
she couldn't talk
they said he'd come home
they lied
I couldn't breathe
I couldn't talk
She said she wasn't coming home
I wished she lied
I blame them
I blame them for all that's gone wrong in my life
It's their fault
they could have saved him
they didn't
he's gone
He's gone and now there's another
I blame them for him
I also blame my mother
My life has been ripped to shreds
Why him? Why anyone?
We were perfect before
Just mom and me
Now There's him
Now there's her

Now there's her
The little one they've created
Now I must forget everything I've stated
Now she's here so there's no leaving
she's so wonderful I cannot have hatred
who was he mom says
She doesn't remember, she doesn't want to
There was no life before this new one
Maybe i'm not here
whose life is this?
I blame him
I blame him for everything that's gone wrong in my life
Why can't he just leave
Why couldn't they have saved just one more life

Untitled D.G

2007-11-14T08:38:00.000-05:00

Her thoughts were scattered
She remembers a flash of light
and a loud bang
She remembered people standing over her
and her arm throbbing
She remembered scattered conversations
"very lucky" "how horrible" "didn't make it"
she remembered being about to call her boyfriend
and she remembered she wasn't wearing her seatbelt

And she thought to herself
She was never doing that again

The S***stem by B.C

2007-11-14T08:36:00.001-05:00

Look at the system's eye, the sparkle just left us
Tudo Bem, you know it's all good
Maybe you don't need the gift of sight to see
That's there's the gift of tomorrow for you and me

Like a waterfall in the dead of winter
Flowing past the stalls of stolen ice
A crisp frost observes, oh so pensively!
It flows to future, no crime, it looks so nice.

Bem by B.C

2007-11-14T08:35:00.001-05:00

In the very same moment
as an officer's bullet
Travels down a gun

The juice of a ripe mango
Trickles down the face
Of a child, having fun

Hills and Valleys B.C

2007-11-14T08:30:00.000-05:00

At the bottom of hill
In the English countryside
a small child, dressed in white
looks up to the peak hopefully

His father's house on the other side
Sports the most creative structure
A roofline just low enough
To be hidden by the crest of a hill

JAH Lives! by B.C

2007-10-23T09:24:00.001-04:00

A very sick, old soul
These troubled hands, fall cold
To say I’ll live past tomorrow
Would be a story, falsely told

I say I’m scared at the least
So full of hunger, can I have
A small slice, a tiny portion
Of your holy, inner peace?

You, kind soul, could have
Some of my breadfruit
This is all I have to give
But when the sun sets,

I’ll say thank you:
you love,
and
Jah lives!

Enter if you Dare! by X.S

2007-10-23T09:14:00.000-04:00

The Darkness of the night, brings terror and fright,you try not to get scared as you read the sign saying beware, but into the belly of the beast you continue to linger on nto the night where in the darkness, you're gone
When you first linger onward, you should be just fine untl a demonic hand grabs your shoulder from behind
you make a shriek and begin to flee but no human can escape their destiny.
Creeps and ghouls surround you
from all around
from land,air,
and even the ground
There's no way out, you're cornered in
as their feast s about to begin
you open your eyes and see heaven's gate
as the monsters consume you and seal your fate!

Take a Guess

2007-10-11T10:39:00.000-04:00

We will NOT release the new theme for the vox, BUT i will release these hints in the form of PICTURES to those of you who read this blog(PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!!, tell your friends about how great this page.....and the Vox are!)

Update

2007-10-09T09:50:00.001-04:00

The Fear and Loathing Edition of the Vox is now complete. It will be on sale soon.

L(one)r by J.N.

2007-09-27T08:54:00.000-04:00

In the middle of that, one , park
off that, one, road
near that, one, restauant-
(that, one, we said we'd try
but neither, one, of us ever did)-
Stood this, one, beautiful tree.

Standing majestic and (one)derous
through more than, one, thunderstorm
and especially that, one, forest fire-
(you know, the, one, that singed almost every tree
and we knew every(one) who started it?)-
This, one, tree held firm to its roots.

But now, aband(one)d by all nature
standing firm in that, one, spot
in that, one, lonesome park-
(that, one, where all but this, one, tree were
uprooted, mad into firewood long ago;
and no(one) visits)-
This, one, bittersweet tree still stands.

All al(one).

My Best Friend by S.B.

2007-09-21T08:55:00.000-04:00

Sitting under the open window
Staring below at the barren ground
Seeing the imprint of where you used to lay
Thoughts of you fill my heart everyday

I remember the whining and screaming
There I sat praying with you in my arms
With each breath you struggled
I knew that it would soon be the end

Tears raced down my face
I held you close to my heart
When you breathed your last breath
A part of me vanished in the blink of an eye

I rubbed your furry little head
And kissed you one last time
I wrapped you in a blanketed
Then said my final goodbyes

Now you lay in the ground
Right under the window of your favorite spot in the house
With a note on your grave
That says rest in peace…my best friend

What are YOU reading!

2007-09-21T08:48:00.000-04:00

Hey there fellow readers, we in the Vox Humana would like you to take this post and fill it full of comments(click the comment link below to leave a comment, or alternatively leave it in the Vox Box Shout box). The goal of this is just to see what fellow students are reading, recently read, or recommending their peers should read. Also, visitors may discover that they take interest in a book or author posted by another reader, ergo, furthering their own literary knowledge and broadening their horizons.

Submissons!

2007-09-17T10:25:00.000-04:00

We need your submissions, our hard working editors have decided they want to add a prompt to your fear submissions!!! Yes, a prompt, and for some reason they have chosen desolation. So give us your works of poetry, short stories, Art(photographs are accepted) all having to do with DESOLATION!

Failure by M.D.

2007-09-13T09:41:00.001-04:00

What if there was no light?
Nothing to reach for.
Just stopped. Going nowhere.
Stuck in a place where you don't want to be.
With no chance of escaping.
With no meaning.
Failure.

Darkness by A.D.

2007-09-13T09:37:00.000-04:00

Fear is closing in

Darkness coming over us

We all run and hide

News Flash

2007-09-13T09:25:00.001-04:00

First edition of the Vox is in the works as you read this very post!

Our edition theme is FEAR, ohhhhh Spooky!

The deadline is September 28th so please get those entries in soon.
Send all your submissions to room 226a, or SHSvox@gmail.com