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Senior Basia Fisher '18: Poetry and Art

4/25/2018

1 Comment

 
Picture
Portrait of Basia, by Virginia Bradford.


Poetry written in Creative Writing Class!

Some Days
Some days I write
And have a hard time
Escaping from its universe
I am present
But I feel absent

Some days are scattered
Brainstorm things aside
From my main storyline
Like a prequel side story
And also a sequel story

Some days I’m blocked
I’m not interested in
My own current story
I don’t feel creatively literary
I feel creative visually

Some days are lazy
My brain is a melting ice cube
So I do very useless stuff
Like watching YOUTube
Or browse the internet
I’m fluid in creativity
Some days I write
Some days I draw
Some days I’m too focused
Some days my mind is mush


Misfits
Society is surrounded by hackers
Who go into their peer’s brains
Downloading toxic information:
A white man crosses the street
To get away from a black man,
Men loving women is normal
Loving same sex isn’t natural,
That Middle Easterner is a terrorist
They destroyed the twin towers,
You’re either a male or female
Not, both, the opposite, between or neither.
Everyday, misfits get infected with these
Words, assumptions, actions and oppositions
 
Misfits ask questions:
Why can’t I be myself?
Will somebody hurt me today?
Our world is full of unfair
Racism, homophobia
Transphobia & xenophobia
Which takes away a
Misfit’s ability to breathe
Thus making them afraid
Of thier towns, cities,
Workplaces, schools
and the overall world.
 
When misfits wish on
A shooting star at night,
Throw pennies into fountains,
Or blow out birthday candles
They wish for more equality
And freedom from violence.
Is a world like this possible?
Unfortunately, in every group
There is at least one jerk
Who controls the rules
Of what makes a person. 

Those who break
Society’s expectations
Are nicknamed slurs,
They also get beaten up,
Some of them aren’t included,
Maybe they are brutally murdered
Or in severe circumstances
They take their own lifes!
 
Earth can be a cruel
And unfair planet for misfits.
Don’t allow them to drown
Somebody else in every group
Can always be a strong ally
By trying on shoes of misfits
Through researching social groups,
Gain exposure to minority communities,
And learning how to be open minded
Which increases understanding, therefore
Decreasing biases and misconceptions.
Nobody will fit perfectly into
Racial shoes, Nationality shoes,
Sexuality shoes or gender shoes
However, the more people
Who decide to support
Peers who don’t conform
To the standards set by
Their overall society
Make a misfit’s world
Feel like a safer place
Where they’re able to breath

Gram-Gram the Kitty - My Great Grandmother
 Gram-Gram the Kitty
Is a realistic looking
Stuffed brown cat
Which wears a blue bow
Kitty is named after Gram-Gram
Gram-Gram was my Great Grandmother
 
Gram-Gram the kitty
Lives on a shelf
Next to an African doll
Very few memories left
Of Gram-Gram are
My internal storage box
But I do recall looking
At the Kitty, sometimes
Playing with her
When I visited Gram-Gram
At the Wardwell in Saco
 
Kitty is just an artifact
Who watches me each day
As I write or make art
Without me knowing
Her owner rarely touches her
I never think about Kitty
That doesn’t mean I don’t
Care about Gram-Gram the Kitty
She has been in my ownership
For almost ten years
Real cats are senior citizens
When they’re aged ten
My Gram-Gram the Kitty
Doesn’t need nine lives
She will be stuck with me
Watching me be creative
 
Could Gram-Gram’s soul
Be within my Kitty?
Has Gram-Gram read
Those unfinished fanfics
The WIP short stories
Or my current novel?
Can Gram-Gram see
My homemade cards,
The paintings I’ve painted
Or my digital abstracts?
If Gram-Gram really had
Been living inside my Kitty
Since Two Thousand Eight
That would make Kitty
Much more than an artifact
 
Within Kitty, Gram-Gram
Secretly and silently had
Spied on her Great-Granddaughter
As she went through
Her “Great Depression”
During the SMS era
Gram-Gram watched me
Sail through teenagedhood
At Thornton Academy
She’ll experience my graduation
When June finally arrives
A few years later…
I can see Gram-Gram smile
When I publish my novel
 
Indeed, Kitty definitely
Isn’t only an immortal artifact
She’s a subconscious
Reminder that Gram-Gram’s
Soul still breathes within
Kitty as her abiotic shell
Sitting on my shelf
Peeping at me as I
Slowly type and type
My manuscript or
Peacefully draw and draw
Pieces of artwork

​




Basia was born on October 1, 1999 in Portland, Maine.

She considers herself Creative~Fluid. There are times when Basia writes for hours at a time, getting completely sucked into her stories. Other days, she has zero energy to write, so Basia does art digitally and traditionally instead. 

This fall Basia will attend SMCC to earn an English Major.
​
1 Comment
Stephanie Demas
6/4/2018 08:17:32 pm

I so relate to your poem misfits. Thanks for leading the way Basia!

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