Gavilan Literary Society

                                                                                                                                                    Mariah Pompa                 ...

Mariah Pompa World mythology 4/15/17 Origin of Shadows There was Darkness and Darkness alone, no beginning and no end. It was just one entity, whole and at peace. It wanted to expand, it wanted to create. With a reach beyond all it formed what would be Moons, planets, and asteroid belts. It wanted to go further, to create something more than rock. Reaching further it touched one of its creations and in darkness it formed the rough bark of trees, dappled the coolness of water, and created the first exhale of wind. This new creation would be Earth and Darkness loved it. Hearing the water rushing in the streams, the leaves fluttering in the wind, and the subtle turn as it spun. It could feel all of its creations but it could not see them. So Light was born. A flash so bright it startled Darkness and it lost part of itself. That part fled to Earth, trying to hide from the Light. It divided and divided until it could hide under the trees. By now it was no lon...

Mariah Pompa Adv. creative writing 4/24/17 Level Up Each new level ups the armor, But still that leaves my defenses low, The attack on my person is pointless, But the battle is always in my soul,   The mind can become quite a force, The knowledge accumulated to a vicious storm, Still the whispers slither in, Tearing at my mind, So much for levels, So much for confidence, One well-placed blow, Fear harbored in my mind, It all goes to shambles, And my insecurities seem to shine.

Mariah Pompa 4/15/17 Revised 5/6/17 The Trouble with Beginnings For some reason there always had to be something that went wrong. Their group had been fine the whole way through the “Forbidden” canyons because they packed enough water. The boat used to cross the monster infested waters of lake Leviathan had been enchanted out of sheer luck. They had even found the fabled Sword of Conquers as they had been sent to do. How many people could actually say they completed their quest? It was a gorgeous weapon well, scabbard was from what she could see. To those unschooled in swordsmanship a sword as mighty as it may be always returned to its scabbard, a metal or leather casing made just for that sword. In this case the sword refused to leave its scabbard and the ‘valiant’ Prince Valerio had tried to remove the blade from its sheath but it wouldn’t budge. Since then things had been pretty dull except for the Prince’s mutterings about “stupid swords” as if scolding the weapo...

Mariah Pompa 5/5/17                                                              Dead flowers and lanterns The shift of the seasons, Cherishing their freedoms, But I feel no joy,   My eyes wide open, Visions tunneling now,   I’m tumbling, Tumbling, Tumbling, Down,   The sun is shining, but I can’t feel it now,   The heat burns my skin, Yet the cold air passes my lips,   It’s frightening to feel this numb, Worse to be this young,   The loss of touch is killing me, The connection once real, So distant now,   The shadows closing in,   My constant companion,   ...

Mariah Pompa    5/5/17 Ink Stained Heart My world feels so dead, My heart beat strains, The colors fade, The energy lost from the air, To get it back takes on thing, one simple thing, A simple poem here and there, A simple poem isn’t there, Where did it go? Those colors, Those pictures, Those sounds, The view is grey from where I sit, They’re closing rank, I feel claustrophobic, Yet I smile all the same, I’m grasping at straws, I can’t remember, When all I want is a name, My tongue curves to the words, My eyes fill with tears, The release of my heart, A word of English, Some sacred prize, This shouldn’t be a treat, It should be easy, Easy as breathing, Yet it’s all a jumbled mess…, There is no time to feel, Less time to write, We’re losing it now, Losing it all without a fight.

Poetry 3 2017 Mariah Pompa 4/28/17                                                                        The Pack The trees tremble, Branches creak, A thunderous sound, Bloodied feet, The resounding pulse, All of one mind, Snow stained red, Sharp teeth shine, The air won’t hold, Always gasping for breath, Jaws ache, Fingers claw, Remains of the kill,   Bloody maws, Howling with pride, The pack runs on,    Man and beast collide.

Mariah Pompa Elephant in the room This conversation isn’t happening, Words won’t come out, Anxiety all around it seems, Just speak, Say anything, But no, Something is in the way, Pride maybe? Fear? No, anxiety all the way, I feel like I can’t move, Breathing is impossible with all this angst, You can’t just say it? Always holding back, We’re running out of time, This conversations doomed, All because of the elephant in the room.

Mariah Pompa Brit.lit 5/17 /17 New Teeth It was uncomfortable and costly as all things are when living with other people, even people he knew. Samad was stuck between ruling his side of the house and playing the polite guest. It was so confusing but this was their arrangement and his pride would not let him call it anything else. He had been dealt a bad hand. Alsana had warned him but it was hard to think with her constant snapping. He had to uphold the family, keep a roof over their head, and food on the table. He was a man as it was his place to lead them but even in that he had failed. Pressed for money he argued with his cousin only to be told again “I can’t show favoritism Samad you know that” and he wouldn’t go to Alsana’s relatives the yammering chickens the lot of them. If they spent half as much time doing their duty to the family as they did gossiping then the Begum family would be prosperous, they might even have more children! Shaking his head, Samad ...