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Issue 9 Page 66
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There Are No Ghosts In The Room
There are no ghosts in the room.
Only a witch with a broom,
a goblin or two,
a monster who’s blue
And though it’s quiet as a tomb
There are no ghosts in the room
Was that a scream?
No, only a dream.
There are no ghosts in the room.
Was that a sound?
Just turn around.
There are no ghosts in the room.
Are you suddenly cold
And not very bold? Why?
There are no ghosts in the room.
You may not desire
that hungry vampire, but —
There are no ghosts in the room.
There is only a sheet
It doesn’t have feet, for —
There are no ghosts in the room.
And though it said “Boo”
I tell you true
There are no ghosts in the room.
There are no ghosts in the room.
Only a witch with a broom
a monster who’s blue,
a goblin or two, a vampire
you do not desire,
a sheet with no feet that keeps saying
“Boo”
and walking the floor.
But I tell you once more
There are no ghosts in the room.
A sheet from the bed, from under the spread
There is nothing to dread. It’s certainly not dead
But I wish it would stop saying, “Boo.”
And I wish and I wish it were true
that though it’s scary as a tomb
There are no ghosts in the room.
Another Time, Running
Another time, running across
the pink sky I hurried
to keep up with you.
There was blood everywhere
blood on the stones
below
Why wouldn’t you slow down?
Breathless
I can no longer call you.
Brother
you are so much quicker
than the living.
Where
are you going? What are you
running to? What from?
Look,
There is writing in the blood,
stories
I can not keep running across the sky
I must let you go, must go down where the blood
lays cold on the stones—and stories are written.
I must tell the stories.
Feminism
Feminism is the act of advocacy on the basis of equal rights.
It is saying no when you’re looked down on even if it starts fights.
It is showing you are powerful and have a lot to say
Regardless of your gender or how much you get paid.
It is a social, political, and important fight
Of giving women their deserved rights.
It is standing our ground even when it’s tough.
And showing we are more than simply enough.
Another 4th of July
Frankenstein stands
holding an
American flag
while Dracula
plays the
piccolo out
of tune
And the mummy begins
to unravel his bandages
Wait a minute. This is real.
My god, what is happening
to my country?
In the Safety of Angels
In the safety of angels, you close your eyes and face the
dark inside you.
The angels, beautiful and transparent
are there now, in your head,
circling over the landscape
of windswept time and countless sins.
Their wings shelter you from the storm in your mind
Its thunder muffled by the beat of their wings
its dark erased by their glow.
You’ve found shelter within yourself.
You’ve seen the light.
But the dark within you is equal
to the light so what is it
you see?
©
Christine Karapetian: Social-Study-22
That Moment
That moment when you wake up in the morning
and you hear that light tap outside.
When you run down the steps excited by the icy cold slide.
Throwing a coat on; shoving your feet into your boots.
The trees are covered from head to toe as well as their roots.
As the first flake falls onto your hand,
revealing a sparkling winter wonderland.
Like dancing crystals dropping from the sky. (The
way they sway and
spin from far up high.)
The magical feel dazzles your eyes.
Sipping the hot chocolate by the fire.
Watching winter films you greatly admire.
The feeling of snow and holiday cheer,
and remembering all you hold close and dear.