I have a brother for sale!!
The price is very good.
You will really want to buy him
And you know I think you should.

My brother is so very smart
He knows every language all by heart.
He knows his times tables and division is easy.
He even won a trophy for playing Parcheesi!

He’s handsome and dresses very well
His hair is spiky and shiny as a bell.
His eyes are amazing! One blue one green
My mom says he’s the best she’s ever seen.

He’s very strong and can lift a car with one hand
When he takes off his shirt you see his 8-pack that’s tanned.
He has a thousand jokes that can make me laugh.
He’ll even eat leaves just like a giraffe.

He’s also very helpful, cleaning the house up and down.
In fact just last week he cleaned the whole town.
My Brother‘s for sale and he won’t be free.
Come to think of it, I’ll keep him for me.

Come on over!
My food is so good!
See, my restaurant is so fancy.
The entire restaurant is covered in gold
(Except the food.)
BURGERS
If you buy one you get one hundred for free
The burgers will be hot forever
So you can eat one each day.
Every time you come to my store
You can get another hundred!
We have oreo flavoured smoothies
Sour patch kids flavoured smoothies
And smarties flavoured smoothies.
Our fries are crispy
They are salty
And they taste good (just ignore the poison).
Once you have your burger
You can just sit on the floor
(Just don’t sit on the food.)
If you’re starting to feel sick, don’t worry
(It’s just poison.)

There are dangerous monsters
Like Snombies
who take out snow from inside them
and throw it at you!
Or P-rex: A pinata dinosaur.
You have to spin around 3 times
and whack it with a stick.
It will burst open
but there is also
a dinosaur inside,
which is just bones
made out of candy.
And, Crabacadbra is a magician
mixed with a crab
that does magic tricks.
Without its shell, it can’t do anything.

There are friendly monsters
Like Knuckle-fist-punch-smasher.
He is a boy named Rip
and when he eats sweets,
he becomes the monster.
He has ants that eat sweets
and they become attack dogs.
Or Jampire.
She is really a girl
named Nikki
and has fangs
and likes to eat red, juicy stuff.
And Narmadillo.
This is their principal
at school and used to be a
member of SSMP
(the Super Secret Monster Patrol).

Finally, there is a boss monster
at the end.
The three-eyed Gloomp.
It has sparkle glue
so whatever touches it becomes
a monster.
If you enter his base,
which is a glue factory,
he will trap you with cement glue!

These are some monsters that could scare you!

There once was a princess who had a special home
It was half castle, half mansion in the middle of Rome.
The top part was mansion, the bottom was castle
It had elevators, movie theatres but cleaning was a hassle.

She sent a letter all over the place
To find a person to clean her huge space.
But no one responded to her wishful cries
Until A Big Bad Wolf showed up in disguise

The princess hired the wolf and he started to clean.
He filled the toilet with stinky socks! This wolf was so mean.
Then he took the water from the toilet bowl
And poured it in her bed so it smelled like rotten sole.

The poor princess crawled into the smelly bed.
The wolf was hiding waiting to be fed.
Before she could say good night to her pup.
The wolf jumped out and ate her up!!!

Come here!
Videogames for sale!
If you are a member you can get free videogames!

Yes, your eyes are right!
The store looks like a video game controller.
You can come on in and try the games.

But there’s a catch.
If you hurt yourself in the game…
The whole store jumps up and down
And says, “OUCHY!”

So be careful.
But come on in today!

Help The Earth!! By Seri Lee

Earth is our land,
beautiful and helpful,
bountiful and huge,
mostly nature and water,
green and blue.
It gives us a place to live.
It gives us oxygen to breathe.
It gives us water to survive.
Some people treat the earth wrong.
They treat the earth like it’s a garbage bin.
They treat it as poorly as a stray dog.
They also treat it like a land with wrappers on it.
They also sometimes litter, pull plants off the ground or throw nature away.
If you treat our earth right,
it helps the earth to help us.

I’m having a garage sale a
To buy a Lamborghini,
But I only have enough
To buy a single, big zucchini.

Come out and see my junk today!
You might find something cool!
All the things I have for sale
Are really really useful.

There’s pieces of an iPhone
Which you can glue together!
Lightly used and sweaty socks
Will make your feet smell better!

Board games, missing some pieces
To exercise your memory!
Expired peanut butter
Sold with mounds of moldy celery!

Baby toys with dried-up drool,
You just need to disinfect.
Rat traps with some animals:
Mice and rats you can dissect!

COVID-19 testing kits—
Half of them were negative—
Used mouthguards and baseball jocks
Are good if you’re competitive.

Now you know there’s lots of stuff,
So you should come and visit me!
One person’s junk is another’s treasure…
All for just a very small fee!

Why spend your youth in doubt
You should use the time to go a different route
Why spend your days locked in a room
You are just waiting to meet your doom
Shouldn’t school days just be done
Then you could just be having fun
So why couldn’t school days just be banned
Then you could see food on different land
You could watch television
Or make a different decision
You could also play with cars
Or even learn about mars
School days are a big waste
I can’t wait to send my teachers to space

You should try playing soccer,
It's fun and cool
Instead of being a doctor!

I’m sure you’ll love it.
If you want to go professional
Practice makes perfect

You definitely can.
All the great players earn lots of money,
Even enough to buy 100 vans!

Some greats lived in poor towns,
Played on a small team
In shirts and gowns

With limited supplies and food
Like Cristiano Ronaldo,
Who is the GOAT, a very nice dude.

He had to work to have a house.
Started at an old age,
Or Lionel Messi who was as short as a mouse

Pausing his growth at 15,
Lost when the doctors told him
As a young teen,

Yet he kept going.
So, all the greats had to keep trying
Or else they might have not been growing.

Cash out on a soccer ball!
Call your parents.
Enter the soccer world, it will call.

Roll the ball and have fun.
So, if you have free time,
You should not miss out on playing in the sun.

Play all day and have fun.
So, you should play soccer a ton
And try to be the number one!

This beautiful timepiece lets you know,
if you dare play with it during school.
Your parents will find the ugly truth,
and then your parents shall ground you.

But, I swear, I won’t play with it,
even if my friends ask me to!
And I hear you ask if they have one too?
The answer is yes, they do!

This amazing tech will let you know,
If you need water, or some deep breaths.
Walking home? No problem!
Your parents will find you, no matter where!

If you're lost, it can help!
Just ask Siri where’s my home.
Need something ? No worries for you!
Call your parents on Facetime!

Tracking your steps or calories?
Apple Watch has got you!
Been in a crash or a fall?
Send an emergency call to 911.

Need to see if someone texted you?
Your watch will tell you if they did.
And guess what, if you don’t play with it,
The teacher approves for you to bring it, too!

Need to have some self control?
There’s a school time lock for you!
Your parents lock the screen for school,
So they know you didn't play with it.

If you’re looking for a poem
You’ve come to the right place.
I’ve got one right here
To bring a smile to your face.

Or this one that’s creepy
And spooky and dark
About a mad spirit
That roams the dead park

Dragons and Knights
Fight battles galore
In this fantastic poem
That surely won’t bore.

Christmas is here!
So I made this next one
About yoyos, candy canes
And a massive Nerf gun!

And if you like poems
That don't have a rhyme
Then try this next one
It’s really good.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1ptqB9F9FXz_3hB2HfSbH6q-iM0Ghva6PpIv8uVtf-r8/edit?usp=sharing

There was a girl, me.
Walking along the aisles of walmart
with my parents (I know, unfortunate)
And I saw something,
something AMAZING,
something INCREDIBLE,
something RARE.
It was “Jack the Black Cat”, the squishmallow
Right in front of my very eyes was one of the 500 of these ever
made.
So I said “Hey mom, can I please get this squishmallow?”
“You have too many of those.” she replied
“Please, mom, please dad, this is the rarest squishallow ever.”
“No.” they both said in unison
Of course they don’t care.
They just don’t get it.
“Mom this is super rare, they only made 500 in the whole world!!!
People sell these online for hundreds and hundreds of dollars, it’s only $50 here”
They still don’t care.
I said “If you don't buy it for me I’m literally going to bawl my eyes out, right here, right now.”
And still the answer was no,
So I started bawling my eyes out.
And now I’m grounded for 2 weeks.
Lesson learned, don’t ask your parents for Jack the Black Cat.

Selling babies on an airplane
Babies always bring me pain
Especially when they cry
Every time I see them I let out a sigh
Maybe I could sell them to someone who’s sad
Maybe it is better than whatever they are feeling because it’s bad
I hope they would enjoy it
Or maybe throw it in a pit
I just wish airplanes would stop babies crying or ban babies
Then maybe I wouldn't have to wait until the eighties.
Oh so I wish a depressed person was here
So babies I wouldn’t have to fear

“Trust me, Xiao Yen, the money’s safe with me.”
I can really use some extra bucks: gucci bags sure aren’t free.
“I’ll keep it in my drawer, and save it for your marriage.”
I swear sometimes I just want to throw this failure in the garbage.
“Oh no, I won’t spend it: it’s just for safekeeping.”
Another year closer to getting that lamborghini.
“I promise I will give it back once you go into college.”
Talk back one more time and I will shove you off a bridge.
“Really, Xiao Yen, you are such a flea!”
Now she won’t give me anything… willingly.

Are you an introvert?
Socially awkward?
Do you have no friends
And are so ugly
Nobody wants to date you?
Now there’s a solution!
Make-a-Mate!
You can design them
Any way you want!
Blue eyes?
Brown hair?
Tall? You name it!
Even shape their interests
And hobbies!
Squash!
Running!
Swimming!
Knitting, too!
They will love you
And hang on your every word.
You will never be lonely again!
Get a Make-a-Mate now
At 445makeamate.com!

Ants are misunderstood.
They’re seen as a common household pest
And they’re something most people detest.
But if you look closer,
You might just be impressed.
Trails and streets of organised chaos,
Marching through the unfriendly land
And shuffling through grains of sand.
Intricate roads of pheromones,
Leading through treacherous territory.
Lifting things ten to fifty times their weight,
Carrying bits and pieces of food
Back to the nest to feed the brood—
Something about them is mesmerising,
In a way that I can’t say.
Some craft homes in foliage,
Most do underground,
Some feed on fungus grown from leaves,
And some are more ferocious than a bee,
Able to take down much larger animals.
You don’t need to listen,
But I hope you can see
That ants aren’t just a nuisance
They’re interesting, and unique—
I hope you can keep an open mind, at least.

Once upon a time after a terrible day at school
I saw something that made me want to drool
There were Brain cells for SALE!
Right next to where they sell quail
There were Math,
English,
Reading,
and even gym brain cells!
Now since I was smart …. I wondered
“Who in their right mind would think they would sell?”
After looking for the brain cells I wanted
I was warned by the old man “They are haunted!”
Since I was actually dumb I decided to purchase the brain cells
But then on the packaging it spelled MADE IN CHINA
No wonder there were brains cells to spare but then i wondered How they heck did they end up in south carolina

Part 2 of brain cells for sale
I used the brain cells more and more
Then my good grades started to soar
My teachers thought “didn't he think that these classes were a bore”
I went one week without the brains cells
And my IQ was still the same
Then after some time i realized that these brain cells kinda made me insane
So to this I still am smart but every time i need to fart
My faces turns red my bumhole burns then out pops an egg tart
So lesson learned I won't buy more brain cells made in china

When you visit the zoo
You have to go
See the sloths
Who are super slow.

Slower than a snail
Slower than a slug
Slower than a tortoise
Stuck in a hug

Sloths make lots
Of cute sounds
That make people
Want to gather ‘round

Cuter than a monkey
Cuter than a pug
Cuter than a baby cow
In a big cat mug.

When you visit the zoo
You will know
To see the sloths
Who are super slow.

replacements

of words

don’t always mean the same thing

a slight impurity

crookedness

warpedness

seeps into our vocabulary

dark ink d

r

i

p

s from our language

stains our actions

lets out

screams masked by laughter

mirage-like fingers

impenitently

graze under her chin

while she holds her breath

touch her hair

while she looks away

knowing that if she screams

lets her thoughts out of the brittle walls

she barricaded them with

they’ll chortle

it’s a joke

why do you care

laughter shakes the landscape of her mind

leaving rocky contortions

knotted trees

broken vases

all shattering the alluringly tranquil garden of what was her naivety

zigzagging

over the ruins

drowning out her silence with

rizz

Taking a stroll around town
Late one afternoon.
The crisp autumn leaves
Each drifting off their trees.
Where shall they go,
After they leave?

They were once little seedlings in the spring,
All on a tree.
Little green buds,
Slowly blooming into
All kinds of precious beauty.
They paint a picture
Of nature,
Each boasting about their unique
Colours, shapes, and sizes.

In the summer they turn green,
Marking new life, new growth, and new beginnings.
Marking luck as well as health.
In the summer, leaves are young and healthy.
No longer children and not yet old.

Autumn is when they become full adults.
Struggling against all their adult problems.
The rain falling so hard, they barely stay up.
The strikes of lighting that kills,
The chunks of hail that impale.

In the winter they fail.
They get old,
And it gets harder to hold up.
The snow building up
On their weak bodies.
The once young and lively,
Now vulnerable and fragile leaves
One by one,
Fall,
Fall,
Fall,
To the ground
Where they will stay.
The different
Colours, shapes, and sizes
Are what make them unique,
But at the end of the day,
They are all still
Just leaves.
None of them have
More power,
More rights,
Or more freedom
Over one another.
At the end of the day,
They have all lived their lives
Differently.
Different perspectives,
Different hardships,
Different experiences.
At the very end of it all,
The different colours, shapes, and sizes
Don’t actually
Matter much.
No longer singling them out,
But encouraging them to
Support each other
Through all types
Of hard times.

A gold , framed certificate

Improvement

A shiny , platinum trophy

A new hobby

A first , place medal

Learning

Despite the popular perpetuation of

process over product,

The physical award still propels.

Improvement

Does not calm us,

A chunk of gold metal

Does.

We seek trophies

Every step of the way

Even when sometimes the footprints are invisible

Because inside, we all prioritize the award.

We go to bed dreaming about it

We wake up wishing for it

We spend all the hours in between working for it.

But sooner or later we discover

Result is not everything But part of something.

Result is just a singular dot Not the whole painting.

To need a medal to tell us “we are worth something”

Is stupid, is senseless,

Is sad.

Because, the real winner

Is not the one who beholds a million medals,

But the ones who have silently walked

the longest path.

My hand
Shivers
Without your warm touch.
My bitter wind frantically blows through the streets, searching for
your light.
Where have you gone?
Won’t you come back to me?

The trees are
Bare
Without your August kiss.
Frostbite has paid me a visit,
So why won’t you?

The ground is
Empty
Without your spring flowers.
In its place, the morning frost has taken over.
Where have you gone?
Won’t you come back to me?

The animals have
Disappeared.
And so have you.
So won’t you come back to me?

Your roses have
Wilted
Because of my December snow.
Without you,
Without your hazy breath and strawberry skies,
I am all alone.

So please,
Won’t you come back to me?

When I was 4, I was Batman.
When I was 6, I was a pirate discovering the “One Piece”.
When I was 10, I was a Dragon, hoarding my treasures.

But it all changed horrifically when I turned
13.
Thousands of people screaming at me.
They told me
not to do this.
They told me
not to do that.
To grow up, make better decisions, be more
responsible.

I thought turning 13 would be great.
I would explore further on the sidewalk of life
but I realize now, I had to face the dark forces of reality.
Now, my parents expect more from me.

This new sidewalk is scary -
Unfamiliar buildings, new people, different lights
This education
slowly jackhammering my sidewalk of imagination
until it is treacherous.
Heartbreaking words,
the most painful things you can feel,
Create cracks in the sidewalk, becoming bumps to navigate.

One by one, the sidewalk chalk drawings of my childhood
Are smudged. The colors run, the images fade.

My tears burned my face as I wept in the depths of reality.

One person
One wise stranger saw me weeping on the side of the street.
He came up to me and told me this.

There are many who suffer from the world of reality, but it is up to us as humans to bear that torment and go forward. Don’t throw away everything you dream of. Harness it, make it your own, repave your sidewalk and become one again.

Then he left with a peaceful smile on his face.
To this day, I still follow his life-changing words:
He made me realize that:
One day, the sidewalk will end,
And you will have to make your own path.

“Why are we learning about this again?”

Everyone around you is sleeping, doodling, spacing out, or looking at each other
Mouthing “what is he talking about”?
Exasperated, tired, bored looking eyes in a sea of clueless, befuddled faces.

“Why aren't there two separate classes for two types of students?”

A way too enthusiastic and cheerful teacher at 8:40 am in the morning.
A teacher who makes the simplest algebraic equation seem like Quantum Field Theory.
A teacher who makes you solve for Y makes you ask WHY are we doing this.

“Why not bring back accelerated classes and make everyone happy?”

While the people around you are frantically scribbling the notes onto their paper,
You are staring annoyed,
At the shiny, stained white board,

“Why not let students who are ahead work at their own pace?”

At the fatigued students in the classroom across from yours,
At your heavy white mechanical pencil, and
At the turf outside hoping you won’t have to run in gym next period
All while thinking,

“Why hold them back when they have so much space to grow?”
“What is the reason for this abrupt change in the flow?”

Is it worth it?
To be killed so softly with
tender touch, your nails
grounded into the skin of my neck and
lips pressed against the same areas
minutes later.
Heart used, chewed up, rebuilt
from a base of synthetic sweet nothings.
What becomes of life with the absence
of an arrow in my back?

Growing up, love has always been the box
wrapped with a bow,
sat in the corner of my room until my next birthday; unopened.
Untouched.
I never bothered with it; it never bothered me.
But still, it followed.

Love came in the form of fingers sticky
with glue
and scrap paper, rose petal pages
piled along a shelf,
in the liquor of a red solo cup
on a kitchen counter; it’s not mine.
It was found in reheated leftovers
packed carefully
for school lunch and films
that flashed across a screen while we laughed.

I watched, looked at love
through rose coloured lenses,
waited with bated breath for a romance
to call my own,
only to understand nothing.

Love was always marriage,
passionate kisses under sheets,
being cuddled tight to each other.
It was never seen as kind looks and hands
clasped together in the hallways
not because we were together, but
because we could.

So this love, I mean, is it worth it?

I can’t help but crave the intimacy that comes
with the devouring of a soul,
to twist the lining of my stomach into knots
as we bump shoulders.
But why would I need to,
want to, carve
space beside my heart and
leave a gaping hole
for you
to rest in?
To have to hang the stars
just to get you
to look at me?

I want you
but not in the way you want me to;
not in the way I can have you.

I do love.
I love my parents, my friends,
I love the boy in my grade at school
who always smiles and waves
at me in the hallway.
I love the birds who sing
on my walks around the block,
the crunch of leaves in fall and the chill
of winter that bites at my neck.

(I cried when I lost the cat
I had grown up alongside;
stared at the plaque added to
the polished marble, my grandfather's name
inscribed in the metal.
I learned of what lies beyond a fairytale
end and bands tied to the heart.)

I love, am constantly in love; it’s a privilege
to be.
I swam through a life submerged in it’s passion,
drowned,
found it in mall trips and
the plush lining of stuffed animals, backyard
fires and sugar coated
hands, banter between lectures.

In all it’s unconventional , unconditional, distance
and lack of roses,
this love is mine.
It’s worth it.

Falling
To start a painting, first you must love.
Love the idea, spend nights dreaming of it.
It will be the last thing you think of before you sleep,
And the first when you wake up.

Confession
When the idea consumes you,
When it torments your every waking hour,
And continues through to your dreams,
When it becomes the breath in your lungs,
Until you cannot continue living without it,
Then you know it’s time to start the painting.

First Date
Building the canvas can be strenuous,
But take your time, enjoy the process,
You want to get to know it,
Never start a painting with a bad canvas,
It is, after all, what you’ll be stuck with
Whether you like it or not,
So make sure you like it, really like it,
The canvas has a few crooked edges,
The left corner is chipped,
The material is cheap and absorbs too much paint,
But how much could it affect the painting?

First Kiss
The first stroke is always the hardest.
The white of the canvas can be daunting,
So easily ruined by a bad first stroke.
But once you start,
You’ll find that in a composition of a million,
The first is quite forgettable.
The first stroke is hard,
But knowing which stroke should be the last is harder,
Remember to not overpaint.

First Fight
You’ll make a mistake, inevitable,
A bold stroke that steered the painting off course.
It’ll fight back, be ready for it,
For a while none of your strokes will help,
The painting won’t let you fix it,
So take a step back,
And come back to it with fresh eyes.
You should apologize, |
But don’t expect one back,
It is but a painting of course.

Last Chance
At some point you’ll get lost in the strokes,
You won’t be able to make out which are bad,
Which are good,
And which are just there to cover the bad ones.
As a painter,
Your purpose is to create beauty in the world.
So when something you create becomes ugly,
Your instinct is to repaint it down to its bones
Until it becomes an entirely different being,
A beautifully different being.
But some paintings were destined to be ugly.

Breakup
The lines blur between you and the painting,
And the you that you’ve become because of the painting,
And the painting that has become because of you,
And you’ve forgotten if you’re the painting the painting,
Or if the painting’s painting you.
It’s easy to ignore tears and rips in the canvas,
When up close they are simply just tears and rips.
But if you step back, you may find
That together they’ve made an irreparable gash,
Then you know it’s time
To scrap the painting.

someone tells me that I cannot save this world: deadly Idalia hits Florida,
more of US at risk. drought in Canada causes world pasta prices to soar.
& 5M bees fall off a truck. cannot hold
5M bees in my hands like cherry stems, pits
punctuating the silence of the pre-dawn. something
is hurting here again. hurting is so close. praying into
a sky no one really believes in. some thing is in the sky:
look up! this lifetime of asking&hunting&being is falling
from the sky! & maybe it feels like dying, the sweaty creasing
as the seasons fold into themselves, full of trembling emptiness &
touch. we touch like a crackling god in a vacant church, all gold
lacquer & empty pockets, maybe this should feel like dying.
I know the years pass through the breeze like bees
through a wind chime, the simple sound of their vaulted bodies,
the ghosts that we carry, the blackberry juice I mistook
for blood you drew. the white-tailed deer is the most hunted big-
game species in the United States. the white-tailed are fast learners.
maybe their star-spotted eyes never close in the dark,
maybe the bodies of water become their mothers.
this deer-in-headlights has been felled a thousand times. all my life,
I held onto the hurt because I believed in miracles. I cannot
save this world, but I will recover.

My male friends once accused me of
ruining one of his friendships.
I said, “Excuse me?”
Then I yelled at him.
I told him that I had no say in what had happened
and the ruined friendship was due to
their inability to communicate.
He told me I was being emotional.
Excuse me?
I listen to him complain about his life
and his “problems” everyday,
And never have I ever called him emotional.
I just nod and tell him that his problems
are bad habits and they can be solved.
I haven’t yelled since and neither has he.
When a man yells there is always a reason.
A good logical reason.
When I yell? It is chalked up to emotions and
“that time of the month”. I can’t open my mouth
without some man having a problem with it,
but excuse me for calling you out when you
oversexualize teenage girls. Excuse me for not
being nice when you tell me you unadded someone
cause they aren’t “pretty enough”. Excuse me for covering
Up my body when i walk past a group of men, because
we live in a society where rape culture is a thing.
Excuse for not believing that it should be. Excuse me
When i cringe at everything you say, but never correct you
Because girls are meant to be polite and interrupting
is just going to make me unattractive to you.
And excuse me if I don't give a damn if you think I'm attractive.
I don’t want you to oversexualize me to your friends. But you will.
Because you're a big strong man and I'm a small little girl.
I am nothing and you? You are everything.
You can say whatever you want. Excuse me, I would love to call you out,
but who am I to say anything?