Genevieve Coleman is the kind of person who some might call overly-invested in stories. Reading every night before bed with Mom and Dad turned into reading anything anywhere she can. This led her to crafting her own lore, still in awe of the greats who cause her to believe in novel characters more than real people. Living on the edge of imagination, she is a warrior on the front lines of authorhood, slaying Pre-Calc problems so she can finally work out poetry ideas after school. Someday, she wants to inspire others to cherish the stories that make us unique, but also bring us closer together. 

Portrait by Seth Petty

Used with permission Jan. 2018

Rainy people

by Genevieve Coleman

Wet is the man who stands in the rain, biding his time

until he finds something better to do. His shoes almost

mistake themselves for the ocean as the man transforms

into a statue. Suddenly, minutes later, he looks over his

shoulder as if finding another soul in the monsoon could

make him any drier. He sees your face, despite your failed

espionage efforts to remain concealed behind a nearby

building. Starting toward you, he reaches into his infinite

pockets. He struggles for his object of interest, a vague

air of frustrated energy surrounding him. Finally extricating

it, the man continues to close the distance between you,

your fear of the stranger intensifying with each step.

Frozen in place, you give him a look that would be

comparable to that of Bambi faced with a hunter alone

in the woods. With only a few feet remaining, he proffers his pocket contents: a single, crumpled yellow rose. Without a word, he strolls off into the damp night.

Jaded Dreamer/Optimist Realist

By Genevieve Coleman

I am a hopeless dreamer

And I refuse to believe that

I can change the world

I realize this might come as a shock, but

love belongs to everyone

is a lie

hatred always wins

In 30 years, I will tell my children that

I have my priorities straight because

realism

is more important than

denial

I tell you this:

once upon a time

people thought they could

just follow the normal cycle of life

going to college, falling in love,

finding a job that makes them want to get out of bed in the morning

having a family, creating their niche in the world, and that would be their legacy

But this will not be true in my era

tragedy hits and in a second

all your plans are eternally ruined

Experts in psychology tell me that

after monumental disaster

everyone throws their hands up in the air

giving up on everything they’ve ever known

I will not concede that

our childhood dreams of peace will reign

In a hundred years,

the cracks in the world

will turn into gaping holes

No longer can it be said that

people recover

because they believe that God can save them

or they can do something to extricate themselves from grief stricken lives

It will become evident that

among a crowd of people

I was the one who just couldn’t accept

the world the way it was

It is foolish to postulate that

dreams could be the new reality

Optimist Realist

Dreams could be the new reality

It is foolish to postulate that

among a crowd of people

I was the one who just couldn’t accept

the world the way it was

It will become evident that

people recover

because they believe that God can save them

or they can do something to extricate themselves from grief stricken lives

No longer can it be said that

the cracks in the world

will turn into gaping holes

In a hundred years,

our childhood dreams of peace will reign

I will not concede that

after monumental disaster

everyone throws their hands up in the air

giving up on everything they’ve ever known

Experts in psychology tell me that

tragedy hits and in a second

all your plans are eternally ruined

But this will not be true in my era

once upon a time,

people thought they could

just follow the normal cycle of life

going to college, falling in love,

finding a job that makes them want to get out of bed in the morning

having a family, creating their niche in the world, and that would be their legacy

I tell you this:

denial

is more important than

realism

I have my priorities straight because

in 30 years, I will tell my children that

hatred always wins

is a lie

love belongs to everyone

I realize this might come as a shock, but

I can change the world

and I refuse to believe that

I am a hopeless dreamer