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Teen Ink Magazine,
December 2004 :
Poetry Articles
A River of Consciousness
by Nathan R., Oshkosh, WI
tell the prophet to come the skyscraper burns as the children fall into evanescent desire deeply embedded deeply embedded so long as I keep writing
so long to you as your journey for thousands of years, through worlds of time complacent set in stone withered to ...
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American Dream
by Ivy S., Loganville, WI
so this is where all the dreaming takes me to a cold, empty reality with sleep still in my eyes shivering, confused, I must’ve overslept now it’s time to wake up one last yawn, then face the lies I’m barefoot and the streets are rough paved with broken ...
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Cartesian Dualism
by Shi-Shi W., Columbia, MO
Natalie found offbeat inspiration in a dragonfly perched on a green-purple berry. Here was a jumble of layers, swing slings, flapping sleeves and appendages - a frenetic explosion of iridescent color invested in one jacket wing.
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Consummating Geometry
by Katelynn B., W. Des Moines, IA
In memory of period six
Why does this matter? Fifteen more minutes Gray numbers, robotic, Besieging my brain. I multiply my hopes by pi, Press clear, and they all blink away.
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Golden Years
by Emily J., Oxford, OH
So this is it The best years of our lives Start looking toward the future They say it’s coming fast But keep your head turned over your shoulder So you can see who’s stabbing you in the back This time Don’t be late for class maybe you’ll learn ...
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Lift Off on Maple Street
by Aaron C., Fryeburg, ME
The house on Maple Street With only the attic light left on A force is lifting it right off its feet The smoke and flame cover the lawn Possibly commotion in the attic Could this be the cockpit for the house that has lifted? The explosion and ruckus, for sure very ...
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Lost Relations
by Mary S., Phoenix, AZ
Far away on a dark hill, Stands a girl, Reminiscing in pieces of black and white And trying to distinguish between the two.
Like Jonathon and David, Two kindergarten mud pies Are smothered together, Then ripped apart when nobody’s looking.
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May 23, 1998
by Karen S., New City, NY
I pressed damp shoulder blades together, stretched my aching arms. The hardwood floor reflected pale 9:00 sun, giving the spacious room luminosity.
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My Grandfather
by Joe P., Hawthorne, NY
My grandfather’s hat is the color of blue. Not the regular, out of the crayon box blue but like the sky spreading in every direction, anything is possible type blue.
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My Special Place
by Megan G., Eau Claire, WI
The grass waved At me from our front window Indian paintbrush flowers Peeked out of the grass Waiting for us The tree in the distance Served us for many things Tea parties With my friends and sister Or a lookout for intruders Always safe A good place to ...
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Night
by Melissa F., Sugarland, TX
The touch of darkness Imprisons me in her grasp Daring me to leave.
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the notion
by Claire T., Normal, IL
Hey, I’ve got this notion that in the end we’ll both be okay I’ll set this love in motion Set down your load Just watch me press play And it’ll all unfold Let me hold your trembling heart Realize that these truths Are worth more than Our ...
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The Penny Garden
by Phoebe S., Asheville, NC
Buried flowers hidden under box elder leaves on pearlescent glass near my castle stump the shady place I played when I was three.
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Untitled
by Lucie S., St. Paul, MN
When I was little, Puff the Magic Dragon Was a storybook character, living in the painted worlds Of my little kid books Then I grew into storybooks with Thick bindings and heavy paper And Puff the Magic Dragon Could drench a football field in lead In a few seconds.
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Untitled
by Emily L., Fair Oaks, CA
flickering strobe lights silhouetting the figures who undulate against the apparently unmoving wall it depends what pill i took bodies pulsating sweaty against one another, our colors coalesce well you must be my only something clicks inside, i dance perhaps i am ...
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Waiting
by Steven S., New City, NY
The pavement burns under my feet, I lean against the chain-link fence, bounce off of it like a trampoline. The leaves twirl - they are concentrated, as if in a waltz. My eyes squint I pick the lint off my faded sweater.
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Winter Night
by Rich M., Congers, NY
Cold winter air bites my skin. A light breeze has the power of wind,
but the silence is peaceful, yet lonesome. The crickets have stopped chirping.
The frozen asphalt of the road, dark black, foreshadows no coming of any person or car.
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Woven Web
by Lauren M., Leonard, MI
You’re like a disease Something that just can’t be pleased Running over the water A sinkhole swallows me up in one gulp Just like you, always eating me alive
I love to love you, but I hate to hate you even more Your words make people weep, but me ...
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