Supernova, Bluebird, Your Poems Are Love
by Lily Thomas
Texas Online Preparatory School
Lily Thomas is a junior at Texas Online Preparatory School. She has been writing since she was 10 years old. After graduation, she plans to study art and animation in college. Lily is passionate about creativity and art of all kinds. She is an amateur writer, poet, artist, and photographer.
SUPERNOVA
Explosions occur within my body,
within my veins, my blood, my brain
My heart, even, when I reach the stars
When they're in my grasp, that's when I'm done for
It's the stardust, cosmic,
extraterrestrial, space?
And the science I don't understand
But, sweetheart, that's what I am
A zodiac (zodiac?): a child of the stars
A beautiful mess
That's confusing, and who knows what it means?
A starry night sky;
An explosion
Darling love,
I am a supernova.
Hear yourself within my dust.
Your supernova,
Sincerely
(Sincerely, truly, always
yours,)
Bluebird
The day my life changed was when I saw the bluebird.
It flew in through my window, flying around the room until leaving outside once again. I didn't even know birds flew that high. I've never seen one up close before.
It flew so effortlessly. Spread its wings and took off with ease. I wish I could do that.
I could do that.
My walls are filled with paintings and dreams. Clouds and rainbows and trees and suns and stars. I look at the constellations above my bed as I fall asleep.
I could stay here all my life, and I'd be fine. But...
The outside world is a dangerous place, filled with horrible, selfish people. It's a risk I'm willing to take.
My toe touches the grass. It's itchy and tickles my feet. I could get used to this.
The world lies just beyond the small cave and curtain of creeping vines. Just beyond my reach. Now in my grasp.
The sun filters through the leaves; the moon reflects off the water. It's like a crystal in the light — refracting against the walls in bursts of rainbows.
I'll have to go back home soon. I don't want to. This is my home now.
Home is dark, not enough windows to light up every nook and cranny.
Home is bright and enchanting, enough for love to sprout in the ground and grow into an engulfing willow.
Water lilies in ponds, tall trees with bluebird nests, flower fields with bright colors galore. This is what I want. Need?
Emerging from my armor of leaves and bark, there's a long bridge across the ocean leading to an island. It's quaint, and the centerpiece is a grand castle surrounded by tiny townspeople and cottages.
The light is so bright, and I can't help but run toward it.
The boat beneath me rocks back and forth in the water. A weird sensation that I immediately fall in love with. I can still hear the echoes of music and laughter, my mind reeling from the joyous dancing and kind-hearted folk, a far cry from what I anticipated.
Flowers float in the water, and then there it is: the light. A beacon of hope floating above the land. Not a star — I've memorized all the stars in the universe. This isn't a star.
There are hundreds, thousands more. And they're right in front of me. I reach out to touch one, spread my wings, and suddenly I'm in one of my very own paintings of dreams.
Tomorrow, I'll be back in my darkness, with only a bluebird to guide me. But then I'll escape, and I'll find my way back home. I know I will.
your poems are love
Poetry is like love
I don’t understand it
I read it, and my brain can’t comprehend
The metaphors, the shape, the touch
If it were visual, maybe it would be easier
If I could see it, taste it, touch it,
Maybe I’d understand
And then you send me yours
Your beautiful words
When you become a famous poet,
Promise you’ll remember me?
Remember what those words did to me
Because they’re the only ones that struck a chord
That I believed in
That I saw
Love is poetry
I can write it myself
Make hundreds of lines worth of emotions and metaphors
But the moment it becomes real
I don’t know anything
I don’t know if I’m doing this right
Is it real? Is it real? Is it real?
Maybe so, maybe not
Maybe it’s everything
