To the Moon and Back
I have loved you to the moon and back,
And what a journey it has been so far.
You have been my guiding light through time and space,
And all the stars seem dim when set next to you.
You are the constellation I wish upon by night,
And the shining sun that greets me each and every day.
Gravity cannot hold me down when you’ve told me to reach for the sky,
And we will continue to reach on as we float through this cosmos called life.
I will always love you to the moon and back,
And what a journey still lies ahead.
By Patrick Winters
Good Days Don’t Come Often Enough
I have a secret that has nothing to do with me.
It’s not my secret to keep.
It’s a secret that I even know it at all.
What do I do with someone else’s secret?
What do I do with their burden?
I see their face, downcast with troubles,
Knowing all the while that they could share that burden with me.
I already know.
Could I lighten their load?
Would it help them to know I know?
But then I think of my secrets,
How they have putrefied in the dark.
Closed away, their stench stains every inch
Of my memories even remotely associated with that mistake.
And I know I can’t change the past,
But I know it can upset the future.
If after my secret is out I still have a future.
I wonder how long it will take,
Before I outlive my mistake,
Or if I ever will.
What do you do with a memory that is decomposing?
How do you go about recomposing all the good, all the light
That the rot melted away into an assemblance of what was before?
Can you even begin to restore something so far forgotten?
At the edge of the sickness I remember a kindness.
Before the mistake, before the regret,
Before the regret about my regret,
Before my regret about my regret about the mistake I didn’t mean to make
There was a kindness.
Not that I deserved it.
Not that I asked for it.
But it came.
Someone who paused long enough to smile and say, “How was your day?”
Even if they didn’t care.
I won’t tell anyone else.
Your secret is safe with me.
I see you and know your burden, but it is not mine to hold.
Even if it takes you time, the daily rhythm will return.
Then again will you count your cares with your cups of coffee,
And then again will you rest uneasy for a while.
So someday when you see me smile,
And ask you how you are,
I hope you take a moment to answer, and in that moment be present with me.
Spelled out 2015
As a new line
That will never
Prayers in France
The fans of Charlie Hebdo
Chant hope after 12 people
Like ten reporters
And two police officers
Died by three gunmen
As two in their 30’s
And the other who
Is 18 years of age
As the French police closed
Off their escape route
When one cop dies
As one gunman died
And two are taken
To police custody
In the end
Alexis Ogunmokun, from Bloomington-Normal, is a junior majoring in English Literature and Writing at Illinois College. Alexis writes poetry for The Rambler.