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brooke stevens
poet brooke stevens is a 20-year-old college student from evansville, ind. her work has been published in News4u and Scroll Magazine. she says: words are our easiest form of communication with others and ourselves. too many times we fail our eyes and memories, so I write to never forget what too many have already forgotten. The best way I am able to explain my inspiration is already in my poetry. I write the way words sing to me to save my sanity.

Works on this page:



It's just the getting going
That gets to us
Here I am
Here I move mind movies
To the back of my eyes
And keep my space to me



I've got the symbolism in my age.
Still sucking my thumb to some and they still don't get it.
God is love
There's pictures of God in the furnace
Want to wear my love loudly
In eyes
Not crosses



Say it just to say it
Bored and really don't care
Make too many situations
Tell me you don't care
So I can say at least
You know
Who drown me in dreams

Don't care like caring caught a cold and is
gone for the day



Nothing makes nothing more tolerable
Why I'm still here
Holding my head for
Fighting fear

More I see
More I don't want to
I'll be what you think
Out there
Instead of in here
With scenes too early to stomach



Thought I could help
Held out my hand
Till my fingers fell off

Driving the hard rain
Off the highway
Blurred summer seascapes
And I'm driving hard

Thought I could help



Community calendar
Clock on the watch towers
Growing old
Rain corroding the lines in the sky
And what did we do today
Besides walking in circles
In this Holy Bible Hell
Passing the bottle of air
With too tight of belts



Color me green
Naked rain
Hold my head
Hold my head.

Motions made
Motions move
Motions mock
The clock
On the wall
Skip to the
Edge of the woods.

I never told you of
The times I walked
Myself to the bathroom
And rocked my life away.

Call me a dandelion
In the woods
I won't mind
I wear my sound

The sunset found
Shade in my face
Umbrella eyelids.

Stick to the walls like
Magnets on refridgerator doors
Maggots on the floor
Of my dreams.

I'd like to say the worlds a mess without me.
Pronounce my name
Make it sing like a
Cool the soul.

The fight of the mind losses
Patience in time.

When you're already a step ahead
Of the day
When today is what you think
Is yesterday.

I spoke in time
The fight found
Waves in my space.

Meadows melting in mouths.
Hour long elevator conversations/ My ears voluntarily close themselves/ Off/ We're getting heavier/ A plummet into the ground.


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