breathe
by Emily S., Sligo, PA
my tiny compact sphere
of words and phrases
had been a thousand times
clearer when i started,
delicately pressed and disciplined
like the seams of newly starched shirts.
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Chicken Little
by Ivy Marie S., Loganville, WI
This time the sky really was falling
and I felt both chicken and little
holding your hands and holding back tears
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Death of Flowers
by Allison O., Mt. Ulla, NC
Winter is death.
Sentencing the flowers of summer
To their cold graves.
No hospitals for them.
Their illness - the cold -
Is quite fatal.
And no flowers for their funerals -
The bleeding hearts
And the peace lilies
Are all dead too.
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Finding the Poetry
by Hannah P., Shutesbury, MA
I'm thinking about what poetry is
A collage of emotions
Spit out and
Chewed up and
Crumpled
Into tiny paper balls that don't rhyme
And then I'm thinking
That this is my song
A monogram of my being
A taste of my life
Licked off my skin
Rolled in my ...
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Flowers in the Fall
by Chad R., Midway, KY
I knew of love once,
but I've since forgotten.
Lost amidst a lonely ambiance,
I've staggered off the path.
I've fallen headfirst through the brush
of moonlit dinners
and a high-school crush.
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Forgotten Dreams
by Caitlin S., Louisville, KY
Drink the stars from the Northern skies,
gentle angel.
Touch the curves of the moon and cool
your nerves with a taste of
heaven.
Why don't you help me push past
this sea of clones with clichéd thoughts
and blank emotions.
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Musings of a Freshman
by Hong H., Fargo, ND
I wish
you would
unveil your insipid
conversations
and unbutton those
torn Calvin Klein jeans
and crisscross that liquid
red sweatshirt with
black marks of
fallacious promises
and
snip away at the blond shag hiding
your narcissistic ways.
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Neverland
by Kate T., Williamsville, NY
I soared through the London sky
With Peter
Wendy
And the Lost Boys,
The stars supplying night's magic.
Spun myself toward sickness
In an oversized teacup,
Loving every minute of it.
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on the enigma of your smile
by Aimee W., Jacksonville, FL
I could never quite figure out your smile
too-white teeth hidden beneath full lips
the lopsided grin of your eight-year-old self
knocking on my front door
can you come out to play?
the one with lips stained red with
Kool-Aid that I could never drink
red lips sitting ...
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Swimming
by Michael Z., Califon, NJ
(after Galway Kinnell)
I love to feel the water in late July
The calm, cool waves of water
To swim in the morning
With the wind cool, a pleasure
Under the calm, cool morning sky
Off the glistening waves, as they hit the rocks
Giving a sound to my ear, the ...
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Tappan Zee Bridge
by Mariel B., New City, NY
At the edge of the river
where water clings to rocks,
a purple streetlamp glows
quietly in the rain, illuminating
silver drizzle falling beyond
the wires. It's the lull between
headlights of hushed cars.
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Unsuited
by Rachel M., Woodbridge, VA
You spread a handful of pennies across the table,
divided into two piles,
and flung four spades and one heart at me.
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Untitled
by Trista P., Ellinwood, KS
Violet petals
sprouting.
A black
center shining
with curiosity.
Caterpillar
lashes
covering
and uncovering.
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Untitled
by Kylie G., Montpelier, VT
Caucasian lipstick ads make fetid
Magazine pages.
The worst kind of insanity
Comes at three bucks a pop
Leaving costly damage
That won't repair.
The a.m. clouds whisper and huddle
'Round the house
Of the dead bulimic girl. Poor baby
So dry,
No tear would come.
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Untitled
by Philip P., E. Greenwich, RI
It is sad merriment
It stood defiantly for any and all, one
graffiti on the wall of a crummy, ammoniaced bathroom
stall, a scrawled out deviancy. Some two-bit poet's
angsty call; that single graffiti there alone.
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Untitled
by Julia S., Lawrenceville, GA
There had to be a last time
I jumped into a heap of leaves
Sinking into its crispy, crackling cushion
There had to be a last time
I stared wide-eyed at the sparkling Christmas tree
Or held a ladybug in the small palm of my hand,
Holding my breath so it wouldn't fly ...
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Untitled
by Matthew M., East Lansing, MI
i have seen you,
dark and rough
silver earrings and scruffy chin
and i will walk by your house on rainy days, the whole world watching
hands in my pockets and heart in my throat -
all the doors are locked and the streets are flooded;
they have dammed us;
but that i ...
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Your Pain
by Alyssa T., Congers, NY
I wish today were yesterday.
Just unbelievable is all you say,
incredible,
words used to describe a Broadway show.
Oh, that's another bomb, you joked,
Wall Street men nervously laughed
like a sigh of relief.
Your neighboring friends couldn't say the same.
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