Piece of the Week
Each week we will pick both an art and writing piece to feature here that may or may not end up in our final copy. Regardless, these pieces are quality work that Mr. Pommer and The Portal Staff loved and wanted to share with you. Enjoy!
Writing
Pandora - Emily Derby
Wandering is a funny thing
because I can wander
without knowing
A Blank Box
bursts with bright color
Explosions in the sky
Because I can wander
without knowing
A pencil is a tool
Recording my life
On a two-by-two table, an apartment in Queens
"So you live in the city?"
Apartment encompassed in books
Bland walls shrouded in hidden wonders from faraway lands
Guatemala, Kenya, China, that's where the money goes...A child's desk, really
Playhouse furniture
what money can buy
because I love my castle and those kingdoms I travel
I live in Queens, but I don't
Because I can wander
without knowing I play
In the park
My guitar as I walk
TOMS smack the pavement, gray of menacing storm clouds
Breeze flows through frayed jeans, floral patches pulling apart
Fresh, tangy smell of trees mingles with blackened exhaust fumes
Angry pollution invading air
Strumming guitar permeates
Overwhelming, enveloping, coking out pollution
They call me a hipster
But I'm famous
Notes flirting with chirping birds
Imagining besieging sounds of crowds
Because I can wander
without knowing
Wandering is a funny thing
because I can wander
without knowing
A Blank Box
bursts with bright color
Explosions in the sky
Because I can wander
without knowing
A pencil is a tool
Recording my life
On a two-by-two table, an apartment in Queens
"So you live in the city?"
Apartment encompassed in books
Bland walls shrouded in hidden wonders from faraway lands
Guatemala, Kenya, China, that's where the money goes...A child's desk, really
Playhouse furniture
what money can buy
because I love my castle and those kingdoms I travel
I live in Queens, but I don't
Because I can wander
without knowing I play
In the park
My guitar as I walk
TOMS smack the pavement, gray of menacing storm clouds
Breeze flows through frayed jeans, floral patches pulling apart
Fresh, tangy smell of trees mingles with blackened exhaust fumes
Angry pollution invading air
Strumming guitar permeates
Overwhelming, enveloping, coking out pollution
They call me a hipster
But I'm famous
Notes flirting with chirping birds
Imagining besieging sounds of crowds
Because I can wander
without knowing