My grandpa always says how he fell in love with my grandmother’s big brown eyes.

He says I have her big brown eyes.

Although, I wish people would look past my big brown eyes.

I wish people would look at the way I sympathize.

Look at the way I’m paralyzed by my fear and my worries.

Every night I have this recurring dream.

I wake up in a sea on a thin sheet of wood.

This sea slowly changes from calm to raging.

My brain starts disengaging.

I lose track of the things in my life.

These big brown eyes don’t just smile.

They cry rivers of tears

Flooding my senses

and Making me senseless.

These big brown eyes need to be wiped.

They need to be cared for.

They need to be prepared for the hardships to come.

These big brown eyes need someone to step closer and realize they aren’t just brown

But green, and a little yellow when the sun hits them just right.

The only emotion they have isn’t sadness

But a mix of confusion and pride.

These big brown eyes need someone to guide them home.

The post POEM: Big Brown Eyes appeared first on Headliners Mission Group.

On a soft July eve
I sit in a meadow
And watch the sunset
With my Flower Boy

His hair is soft like white petals,
He is as strong and tall as the stem,
And he smiles towards the sun
But is fed by the rain

He shines with
Simple beauty
One that he unfortunately
Cannot see

And the pollen he holds
In his deep yellow soul
Attracts the fairest honeybee

But the honeybee he does not want,
No,
The flower boy wants me.

Midwestern Summer

The drives home
From the city
Are never as pretty as in July.

The warm sunset catches
My curls and my brown eyes
As my hand is outstretched
Towards the green leaves.

Life is easy
And I am free!
Well, as free as allowed.

I still must follow rules,
Be home by 10 p.m.,
Never go anywhere without the knowledge
Of family or friends.

But, even then
I feel peace,
I feel open,
I feel light.

I wish that my whole life
Could be this easy.

No pre-calculus,
No dissections in biology,
No color theory,
And no essays.

But maybe there’s a reason
That we can’t stay.

Maybe the summer is there as a reminder
That even when it is cold, wet, and miserable,
It will soon become warm.
It will all be alright.

The post Poetry by Lauren Meier appeared first on Headliners Mission Group.

Lazy afternoon in the city
The relish the sunshine I set out
Golden Gate, the Avenues, Haight Ashbury or Marina
I peddle on to North Beach
To Washington Square to laze
In the grass
To watch passersby of a million colors
Wearily my heart beats slow
And my mind drifts off to sleep
In the grass I am one
A flavor of the masses
As fog moves in my senses awaken
Blades of grass imprinted on my cheek
I catch my breath for motivation needed
To peddle onward toward home.

The post Poetry by Jackie Dee appeared first on Headliners Mission Group.