In The Room

Introduction to the Genre of Poetry: Poems in response to the work of Vickie Vertiz

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Not all poetry is for everyone but there is a poem for everybody- Regina San Andres

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White

I hear the waves crash against A mighty Lone Cypress, Strong and capable yet Shadowed by the White Birch Weak from top to bottom Leaves barely budding from long stems Moist and dry soils surround the roots, That struggle to grow.

Butteries utter to keep company Gently sucking the sap of the twigs

To prevent from falling over, Smooth stones barricade my legs But still, the wind pushes me Again and again

I shift my heart In a new direction

The butteries no longer come. There is comfort in the wind, Looking at the expanse of the world Admiring the sailors,

Exploring their sea.

Shining down, the moonlight A jaunty shadow casts itself Onto the round pebbles below. Barely wavering, mostly dancing Laughing for the first time

A mighty Lone Cypress I hear the waves crash against

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Trojans

Four years ago I began my journey here at USC Going from LA to LA, I thought I knew what I had to see.

Freshman dorms, the best mixing pot on Earth Living in a shoe box with no A/C, that’s New North

Sophomore year, you believe you have the blueprints to success Come to realize, you only have small pieces to a big puzzle Piece by piece, we begin to see the finish line, and As time goes on we must learn and grow In times like these, it seems no one knows

Our senior year was cut short, turned off like a light No goodbyes, stay home and goodnight

We must find light in the shade

The glass is always half full, even on the darkest of days For tough times don’t last, tough people do

Thank you, USC, for all the memories Fight On! - We say, And the fight has just begun.

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Empty House

The house is empty,

And I am missing you,

Missing all the times we have spent,

Wishing there were two,

I still see your shadow,

Walking down the halls,

Being one is a lot.

There is only me, 

and there is no you,

When you left,

You split me in two, 

Leaving behind my heart,

Your smell lingers,

All through this house,

I’m in tears baby,

I want to be held

So, I wear your jackets,

Just to be felt by you. 

Being the only one,

In this empty house,

It’s really depressing,

Not having you around,

I miss you baby,

Please come home,

There is only me and no one else home. 

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Growing Up

\When you’re a kid the whole world is new

Oh sometimes I wish I never knew

The bliss of ignorance… the gift of youth

But that is the loss of innocence, to come face to face with the truth

You came home for Christmas…no presents

I looked past you and looked for what you didn’t have

While I was blind, you gave me every thing you ever had

No money but the stories you told were priceless and the distances you travelled were far

I didn’t understand but you assured me that one day I would

And after each mistake, and each failure I further understood

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Untitled

Her eyeliner is no more exquisite

Than scotch tape or a careful hand

That mole

Nothing more than a sunspot

Even a mistake

I can tell you that the reason it cannot be found in libraries

Is that books cannot comment on this kind of absurdity: 

For instance

why we fall in love with his eyebrows,

The wrinkles on his hands?

A birthmark on his drugged thighs

The nape of his neck after a haircut

The instinct to maximize the surface area

Of skin to skin contact

How the kitchen still smells like thyme after he leaves

And we propose in the Carl’s Jr. on Normandie and Carson

How we are most in love during golden hour,

Doesn’t it seem irresponsible to you?

A bathtub,

the faucet running and running and running and running

Knowing that hindsight will speak volumes

About the twenty minutes 

you spent on your eyeliner this morning 

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The Child’s Dark Light

Children of this world are subjected

To horrors none should ever see

Childlike innocence is a lie

We are exposed

To the vile chemicals of our parent’s relationship

We come into their world for protection

Only to be betrayed

By their own problems

Forced to deal with their faults

Despite the clean slate given at birth

We grow in the toxic waste

Reaching for the light

Until we fall…

Per aspera ad astra

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Untallied

It smells fruity Your straight black hair, newly washed, tickling my neck A stroke, a grasp, a peck Your head’s found a place to rest Like our relationship – close to the chest

I’m scared of what they’ll say – especially your ex “Oh they’re probably leaving to go have sex” So I wait for them to leave, each and every friend Not showing any interest, so I can pretend

Like they don’t know shit Of course they know shit

Then came long distance. What a way To kill a secret newborn babe. Alive, healthy for just 5 weeks Too young, too weak.

Not even the greatest medic Could help it survive this pandemic.

“I’m gonna let you go now” I said to you on the phone, for the last time. Though I had already let go Of your embrace weeks before. Slowly drifting apart, forgetting your touch A slow, painful passing for the newborn. Add one more to the death toll.

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Vickie Vértiz - Out of the Wreck

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Adrienne Rich reads Diving into the Wreck

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Chopin - Fantaisie Impromptu, Op. 66 (Rubinstein)

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Rolling Stones

Stones are cold and are left alone,

Sometimes thrown by the very people that admires them,

Most of the stones kicked by the people who sees them,

As they roll and roll from the moment they were launched it seem alive,

The very moment it stops it waits for the person that first touched it,

It ends up being stuck from the jump at the loss of its very first loved one,

Love is a fleeting feeling it comes and goes,

Just like a rock's first touch, it's a rolling stone,

The rolling stone is the symbol of love,

Similar to doves, it is the purest act only a bunch know this feeling,

But it is shunned by the throwers who forget the touch.

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Poetic Response

Fretfully in search of a restroom,

I envied, 

a puppy peeing freely on the streets.

He released and unburdened,

facing no judgement or punishment.

I wanted that freedom,

I wanted to be him,

And I forgot,

He was never allowed so at where he called home. 

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L'eau Tombe en Gouttes

Chlorine sticking to my skin as I enter To the smell of couscous

Never ask , always seasoned chickpeas , nectar juice , Lindt Chocolates , my favorites , never say thank you , I’m

Too busy , dirty dishes piling up, they will do them at least I’m not doing cocaine

Printer is broken , I ​have​ to talk To them now

Home from college , Zoe licks my face , the only one I don’t argue with

Climb into her bed , what was I angry about , right now I want my mom

Already on the highway I forgot my retainers again , go back To your dad’s , j’en ai marre

Thankful for Saharan winters Anaya bent bladi

I don’t thank enough , a better daughter would Smile more and scowl less

Hugs and laughter and cute videos I put together , tears coming Out of a macho man’s eyes

Take a picture , shaking hands , skin burning , eyes squinting , Diploma in hand , they are

Proud , I love them , and they love me L'eau tombe en gouttes

How else is water supposed to fall

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Blue

You were never mine The cheap liquor, basement lights Flickering as we smooth talk our way In and out of each others ears Rolling around on the old mattress Your heat penetrates through each touch

Hours earlier we walked the stage together Except we were receiving diplomas Look at us now

Unsaid words of curiosity That blue hoodie I always made fun of Now brushing against my hand Eyes shifting in and out of focus

This is what our friends pictured Two idiots losing all inhibition A quiet intensity in the atmosphere Like the November breeze in the suburbs No one can deny our chemistry But us

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Insects

I was not the first and I was not the last. 

A bee flying from flower to flower 

Each flower barely getting by

Three of us: The wasp, the bee, the fly The wasp seeking to wound to cover her own 

The fly always stuck in a web And I, the bee, endlessly sweet

Three girls feeling incomplete The fly running from the wasp The bee creating sticky sweetness in her hive

 Father watches his bugs battle

The wasp says the bee comes from cattle The bee says the fly can save herself from the web

 The fly is about to realize she will be replaced by larva There will always be another

We are all close to our own mother She was the one who was wronged by the next 

Yet we don’t look to the father Who could never pick a web to be trapped in

I reach out as a has-been No longer the object of his affection Still hoping He will get trapped in the honey