Badgerblog

I walk the darkened streets
only to meet vagrants and beggars
who I take pity on, when few
will take pity on myself.

Though ACL booms loud,
Congress, well-lit after the twilight hour,
still has its crowd;
with electricals coursing

____and bringing power
to small coffee shops, I wander
about the smell of Java and fresh cigarettes
in the air, while I wonder
why this town is so wonderful.

____And it hits me:
Because this is the domain
in which creativity isn’t squandered
but fostered in the darker rooms,
the shadowed theaters where writers loom.

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And so a storm rolls in,
in the sky
and in my mind,
where I find
even God cries
for the unhappiness
of a wayward son.

Vaughan, eleventh grade, St. Michael’s Catholic Academy

Deep and lonely lingers
Midnight’s lush surrender
Whispers afar yet near
Starlit tears fall tender

Moments’ ebbing murmur
Soft enticing gaze
Sighs of gentle goodbyes
Vivid upon the haze

Wind on silent waters
Torn and broken heartstrings
Sweet melody evoked
Gift of precious nothings

Gently swaying willows
Soft sweeping moonlight
Luscious silvery glaze
Kindless bittersweet night

Pen dips pearly pages
Sorrows will time withstand
Fleeting lonely eve
Retrace a dreamer’s hand

Olivia-Elyse, twelfth grade, Pflugerville High School

Our relationship is awkward.
Awkward hugs,
awkward smiles,
awkward silences.
We try our best
not to get too close,
not to hug that much.
Mostly because . . . it’s awkward.

I’ve known him since sixth grade.
He’s always been the
prideful,
competitive,
confident one.
Me, not so much.
I’m the one with
no pride,
uncompetitive,
and unconfident.
He wrote in my yearbook
last year,
“These years have been great
because you were always there
to be second chair,”
then was excited
when he rhymed “there” and “chair”
and didn’t even realize it
’til after he wrote it.

Lately though,
he has been rude and odd,
like he’s PMS-ing or something,
so that just adds to the awkwardness,
especially when that girl is all over him,
or his ex wants to get back with him
because he grew a couple of inches,
and they have three classes together.

I’m not angry
or jealous,
just filled with amazement
at just how
awkward
our relationship has grown over the years.

Jessica, ninth grade, Badgerdog alum

I’m not here,
but I’m near.

Don’t look for me
because, where I am, you can’t be.

I’m an image you can’t see.
Do you agree??

I’m unreal.
I can’t even get your attention
when I do a cartwheel.

I’m quarantined,
and all I ever wanted was to be seen.

Supernatural,
like a ghost in the dark.

I feel like a
fictional book.
Why can’t you just look?

I have an idea, a thought,
a plan.
I’ll chase you wherever you go, like
Pac-Man.

Until the day you
observe.
That’s the day it’ll strike
a nerve.

I’m hidden from everyone,
and only you know.

Am I a friend
or a foe?

When you finally notice,
that’s when I’ll show.

Just standing there
waiting for you to say “Hello.”

You walk over and
lay a hand on my shoulder.

My true colors start to
reveal.
My heart and love are clear
like a windshield.

We are no longer foes, but lovers
with BIG hearts
that can be seen.

Julia, high school, Badgerdog alum