A poem by Isabelle Sorrells
The sun shines down
On the average mahogany floors
And bathes the wood in a square of light
On this sunny afternoon.
The cat lounges
Where the sun touches,
Eyes closed and purring in content,
Fur vibrant under the glare.
In joining her,
To understand the source of her contentment,
I am gladly rewarded
With the pleasant burning of the window’s refraction –
So different from the cold of the dark floor
That I hadn’t noticed before.
A poem by Isabelle Sorrells
All I see
Are shades of gray
All around me.
Dancing in a black and white picture
No sound is heard.
So I pick up a brush
And I paint the world
Shades of rainbow
Never seen before
In this silent film of mine.
Some have come to love the colors I’ve found,
Spreading other colors and even sound
I couldn’t have dreamed of
With their own tools.
But others are doomed to color blindness.
A poem by Isabelle Sorrells
I’m ready.
Ready for the heat to turn cool,
The sun to become kinder,
The water colder.
I’m ready to replace shorts with pants
And t-shirts with comfy sweaters.
I’m ready for the leaves to turn fiery shades and fall to the ground
And for all the pumpkin flavored things.
I love the summer,
Season of play and swim,
But I’m ready for Autumn,
The season of change.
A poem by Isabelle Sorrells
She scans the shelves
And reads her select few
In the chair in the corner;
Legs draped over the edge and long hair touching the floor,
All sound lost to her ears,
Her chosen selection of words
Hastily written in smudged ink on her arms.
.
He sits in a wooden chair
Creaky and uncomfortable by the window,
Pedestrians passing by
The smell of coffee and bread in the air
But he notices none of it.
He finds a comfortable position,
Though uncomfortable from the other perspective,
And delves deep into the knowledge and lives of another,
All at his fingertips.
.
They are lovers
Of the same kind.
Strangers on the street
Who see through the paper
And hear through the ink,
Forever in love
With the written word.
A poem by Isabelle Sorrells
You see them together and look away.
Anything is more interesting
Than that cheesy love,
That romantic infatuation that annoys
Because it never ends
And you’ve moved on from being excited for them.
You roll your eyes
In what has become a reflex
During their displays of affection.
But I also see
That look in your eyes
Those few seconds you are watching.
What is that emotion?
That thought inside your head?
I may be inclined
To call it longing.
Poem by Isabelle Sorrells
Can I pull the heavens down to meet me?
I want to go there
I want to float among the stars in the void.
But I can’t
So I’ll pull them down
One by one
As if they were paper cut-outs on my ceiling.
Until I have brought the heavens down around me
I will not stop.
My job will never be done
Until I have it all.
A poem by Isabelle Sorrells
I set fire to the world
With a single match.
Call me a pyromaniac,
But call me a high-functioning one;
I could’ve used the whole box.
The fire was not a very big one,
Much to my disappointment.
Small and quick burning,
But then again,
The contents were highly flammable.
A poem by Isabelle Sorrells
I thought I saw Jesus yesterday.
Or maybe even Peter.
He stood on the water as if it were solid ground.
And I was terrified.
This could only mean one thing.
Apocalypse is here!
And I would never get to eat those cookies on my counter.
But,
Much to my relief,
It was just a kid standing on a rock.
And I did get to eat those cookies after all –
An endeavor that I approached with exceeding fervor.
A poem by Isabelle Sorrells
I know its illegal,
And technically,
You don’t know how to skate.
But would you hitch a ride with me
On some unsuspecting truck
Or maybe the bumper of a car?
Preferably vintage,
But no promises.
Oh wait!
You don’t have to skate.
You can bike or roller blade
and skitch too.
You down
For channeling your inner McFly?
Too much for you?
Or not enough?
Cause either way,
I’m full of bad ideas.
A poem by Isabelle Sorrells
I am surrounded by the dark.
The stars have gone from the sky
and there aren’t anymore in the ground to replace them.
Not anymore.
I miss the stars,
But in their absence,
I have decided to become one myself.
.
If not me, who?
If not now, when?
