Déjà Vu By: Anonymous A separate world Alive for just a moment And gone just as fast Déjà Vu By: McG1rk Like a refraction in a fishbowl– I can see what has once happened. I can feel what’s coming while I'm wading in water. Do you feel it too? That heavy feeling over us? A weight on my mind. Maybe it’s cloudy water, due to the dirty filter. It feels like– Familiar waters– Maybe I’ve swam this exact water before? Treading through the same Despite the changing of the bowl. I can hear the warbling water of the past. I can breathe the same way I did before– My gills accept the seemingly recycled water of life. The filter is changed The world settles– And life is back to the clear Freshwater fishbowl. Amaranthine By: Kayla French They call it Amaranthine. It’s a purple mist, Floating in the air, Swirling, twisting and curling Weaving around branches, Between heads and around bends Inside this is m e m o r i e s Some light as a feather, the sparkliest, palest of purples soft and simple But some some are heavy as a boulder dark and thick, sharp, even a curious touch will slice you. Never look directly at it. For if you do, it will find you. And if you do see it coming towards you, you can try to run, try to escape its claws. Try to hide. But the amaranthine will find you. It will not stop until it catches you. And when it does…. It creeps up on you, quietly crawls up the back of your leg tickles your tummy, the nape of your neck It's the icy breath in your ear causing your hairs to stand on edge, your back to stiffen. Familiarity, distant and eerie an intangible hand caressing your cheek And then It plunges into you Squeezing The breath from your lungs. Freezing The blood in your veins. Twisting Your heart to a stop Stop Sto St S . An instant: there and gone Now forever with you. A question in the back of your mind, A chill on the back of your neck A butterfly beating its wings inside your gut And a hopeless plea: Please never bring me back But it will. Right when you begin to forget following you in every life every moment Nowhere is safe. Chrysanthemum By: Anonymous Each time I catch your gaze from across the room And lock into the depths of your golden brown eyes I’m taken back to the start of summer skies Citrine fading into the sapphire horizon Late May nights and early June mornings Your sun-kissed skin keeping mine warm My freshly opened wound Your caring persona You did your best to heal the cut You stopped the bleeding And cleaned it off And stitched it up And fixed it right Sticking by my side the whole time Yet I still pushed you away I didn’t want to be healed I didn’t care about the bleeding I blindly tossed you aside A petal in my field of ivy In truth, you were a chrysanthemum Your vivid orange reflecting off my dull, green field I wish I had seen your color before But it’s too late now You can’t even look me in the eye anymore When we encounter again I wonder how it would be if I wasn’t so careless If I recognized your radiance sooner Would we be immersed in a field of topaz? Would you be able to look me in the eyes again? I wonder if you get deja vu, too The Ocean By: Hannah Treanor Our love is immortal, Our lies are to forget. As the tides thrash, A haunting memory roams across the sea of time. Our spirits sing softly, your unfamiliar name tickles my lips, A reflection of me in those eyes, I pick through the pebbles, unable to reach the ocean. Time Loop By: Anonymous I’ve been here before, know these places seen these faces I’ve been here before, but it’s different every time stark white walls dingey; lost their shine I’ve been here before, I just don’t know when The pit in my stomach; the sick, sick sensation, again and again Impending doom built up with bricks concrete’s cold, never to admit Reality wasting away Cold and bland I’ve been here before, I don’t think I’ll ever understand. Scenes from an Galway Street By: Jacqueline Callahan Music swirled through the pub lined street from every angle says the cobblestone walkway; So many people with so much love to give says the streetlight offering a subtle spotlight to the couple standing below, holding one another like it was their last moments. The couple flew to the closest pub says the old buildings; and danced as if nothing in the world could ever stop them, like a force of nature says the clock upon the wall slowly ticking away with each passing second; The night came and went followed by many others says the slowly dimming lights. It has been many years since says the chipped paint and peeling wallpaper. It is only now that we see the couple return says the boarded door. One of them retrieves a phone from their pocket says the windows as a distantly familiar song fills the now silent street; The couple begins to dance once again.
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AuthorNorthern Lights is an art and literary magazine full of work from the students of North. Have something to add? Email a submission of writing, art, or photography at [email protected].net |