Untitled
by Monica Lara



Contributed by Monica Lara

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Untitled
by Kristine Plantz

Suicide is not the way to go,
Too bad my father thought so.
He left me,
When I was only three,
And now he’s six feet under.

Suicide is not the way to go,
Too bad my father thought so.
A family he left,
In very bad debt,
Eight kids with only one mother.

Suicide is not the way to go,
Too bad my father thought so.
A brain disease,
Brought him to his knees,
So now I can’t see his face.

Suicide is not the way to go,
Too bad you think so.
Please don’t go,
You’ll regret it when you do,
For someone will always miss you.

Contributed by Kristine Plantz 1-24-2001
Dedicated to: Kenneth Nathaniel Plantz, Jr. 1951-1989
And Jonathan Gregory Brandis 1976-2003

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To: JB
by Kristine Plantz

For every chance you get,
There’s always one more time.
Hope to see you there,
Within the great Divine.

I pray for those who knew you,
And although we’ve never met,
I pray for you as well,
As a fan without regret.

SeaQuest will always be my show,
But without you there it’s hard,
To see the picture as it was,
It’s like Poker without the cards.

I do not feel angry at you,
Your choice is yours to bear,
But I still cannot yet let go,
Of these feelings of despair.

Please forgive me for grieving for you,
Even though I knew you not.
I would do the same if it were another,
Without a second thought.

I give a piece of my heart to you,
To bring to Heaven above.
Don’t think for once I’ll ever forget you,
I’ll always think of you with love.

I hope you will allow me,
To continue my SeaQuest story.
I’m so sorry I must go on without you,
But I must finish out the show’s glory.

My tears I leave upon the ground,
To reflect upon the stars for you.
I’ll wave good-bye as I watch you go,
To live among the souls of the sunset blue.

Forgive me if I blow a kiss,
Maybe more than two.
It’s just that I thought of you like my own,
And I will really miss you.

Contributed by Kristine Plantz 11/20/03
For Jonathan Brandis 1976-2003

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In the Days Before Hyperion
by Sarah Abrell

In the days before Hyperion when the world was still new,
When the sun still shined upon my face, and the summer sky was blue,
When the charms of childhood danced in my mind
And a wild nymph’s breeze still blew,
That’s when I met my saving grace, although he never knew.

In the days before Hyperion, in the days before the race,
When silliness was still allowed, I gazed awed at his face.
When a girl’s small dreams were possible
And a future clear and bright,
That’s when I promised love to him, with a heart still full of might.

A world of mesmerizing thoughts, a brush and canvas white…
They waited for me every day, sang lullabies at night.
Though life was cruel it wasn’t this
I see before me now:
I’d often worry I cared too much; I care too little now.

In the days before Hyperion, we thought we had it tough.
Our lives were full of drama; we could never have enough.
And when the boy who sat behind me
Took a gun to bed,
I thought I’d never get the thoughts of death out of my head.
And then it happened, one fall day beheld his fine visage.
Though death was there, it too was life that gazed up from that page.
The same blue eyes I saw in one
I’d never see again.
The same blonde locks I’d put to bed woke me up from desperate sins.

I lived my life amid my pain and latched on to his smile
I reveled in his rampant fame, so awe-struck for a while.
And when I went from home and youth, I took his strength to see.
To help me through the times in life my gentle heart fails me.

A silly girl, now woman young, I paid homage at his door,
Like no one ever I had met or come across before.
Although it’s true that no one knew, unless I told his tale-
To me he was a shining star, a dream that wouldn’t fail.

I must admit I have held on for much too long, I fear.
Obsession breeds complicity; I made him much too dear.
I am what they call now adult, though in a childish way.
For four long years he’s been a part of every single day.

And then it happened, one fall day we bid farewell to him.
The eyes I held to for my strength closed in death again.
The same blonde locks I’d cherished faded to a misty dream.
Too young to let it pass me by; too old to rant and scream.

I got the call from two dear friends, dear enough to know my heart.
They say, “I’m sorry, I heard the news.” Why didn’t I fall apart?
What’s inside me feels but not enough,
The pain won’t go or stay.
In my confusion I can’t quite remember or quite forget that day.

The adult in me sees things in much too stiff a light.
The child in me cries quietly into my pillow at night.
The poet in me knows this wound will never heal,
A sore too fresh to scab, a scab too old to peel.

In the days before Hyperion, in the days before the war
On preciousness and childhood, when things were as before…
I loved a boy too beautiful, to perfect for this life.
In the days before Hyperion, I dreamed I’d be his wife.

In the days before Hyperion, discovery was the key.
We didn’t know the future, but we glanced through the porthole to see.
We counted up the days and years and wondered at their truths;
We knew it would be us to rule, as goes the time of youth.

We learned what little we could from that which held our rapt regard.
We see it now unfolding quickly in our own backyard.
But no one will remember; the past repeats itself.
The future is predictions; a goat and then a GELF.

It doesn’t really matter; we must see face to face.
And when we are to be as one, we must as one embrace.
Perhaps we aren’t, as one once said, on the same side anymore.
But if we fight we ought to know what we are fighting for.

In the days before Hyperion, when the world was still mine,
I loved a boy so perfectly, through space and then through time.
He taught me so much more than he must have taught himself.
And if I have to go on, I’ve the strength to now myself.

In the days before Hyperion, when we all had happy thoughts,
And dance parties in the living room, and holes in walls, and lots
Of teasing in the lunch room about our wedding plans,
Life was simple, hard and fast, but tilted have the sands.

In the days before Hyperion, we learned to love with wheels.
We’d peddle fast and skin our knees and drag our little heels.
In the days before Hyperion, he saved me from the dark.
From the days before Hyperion, may his legacy embark.


Contributed by Sarah Abrell

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