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Teen Ink Magazine,
January 2005 :
Poetry Articles
A Miniature Sestina (A Tritina?)
by Jenna S., St. Anthony, MN
Etchings of painters and coffeemakers
An elderly woman quietly chops an onion
While the cellist and ballerina fly down the highway
In a dark red sports coup, purchased in California
The woman, in her high-rise apartment building,
Glances out the window onto the gray street ...
Continue...
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An Old Man Once Said
by Jonathan B., Wayland, MA
To me once said a strange old man
Who are you from a faraway land?
And I replied to his decree
I am Jonathan of 17
He stood and stared into my face
I stared back with much distaste
’Tis a strange name he said to me
Young Jonathan of 17
Why, ’tis ...
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Balances of Light and Dark
by Elizabeth A., Oak Ridge, TN
A room drowning in the dark
A crack of light flooding in,
Soaking the nearest crevasses.
Chaotically moving across the mirrors,
Into the walls of hazel eyes,
I am still alive.
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Cabin
by Zoey S., Kinderhook, NY
A closing door.
Shutting out the music from inside.
A jolt shootsthrough the teenage boy.
Sending him mixed-up signals.
as hismother comes to hug him
Again.
His little sister sitting on
the couch’s edge
Whines in agony.
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Frost-Covered Memory
by Katie H., Mt. Prospect, IL
I wrap my arms around her
cuddling as we race across the endless path
she always talked of the beach in winter
we slow, chestnut horses relaxing into a trot
look out across the black-jeweled water
each breath turning frost
venus and mars teasing from above
sand crabs ...
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Guitar’s Lullaby
by Patrice Z., by , , PA
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Leeks
by Liese P., Wayland, MA
there were three
standing
in my kitchen
tall, powerful
green
their roots
and leaves
dwarfed
my sorry
pie plate
I panicked
fretted
had a staring contest
consulted
my bible
the sink
became
my O.R.
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Pour Ecrire en Francais
by Sarah C., Millsboro, DE
Oh, how I’d love to write in French!
To come off as worldly and wise,
To be the first one to impress,
To entertain the enterprise.
To speak the soft romantic tongue,
Creamy words dripping down my chin.
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Quack, Quack
by Sarah B., Ridgway, PA
Chunks of fog creep above
Like a child sneaks upon his hidden playmate
Sticks and twigs and trees with no leaves
Here and there, grass and weeds peek out
between the cracked solid stones
There is no wind
There are no waves
I feel nothing.
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Shadow
by Lauren S., Sugar Land, TX
Acting just like you,
An obsessing little friend,
Only in the sun.
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Shadow makers
by Kara T., Comstock Park, MI
All the children
rode their 3-speeds
to the street corner.
Gathering,
they tested their shadows,
making pictures
of their future
on the grass,
each kid trying to outdo
the others.
Then shadows cast
themselves
over the pictures.
Continue...
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So Over You
by Sharlyne G., New City, NY
This selection can be found in Chicken Soup for the Teen Soul, the 6th in the Teen Ink
book series, all available in bookstores nationwide and online.
Continue...
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Thanksgiving
by Mariel B., New City, NY
Thanksgiving, we were taught,
should include
too many relativescrowded
around a table to talk
about what they arethankful
for, and the neat. But talk
is odd. I’mthankful
for my family. Twelve
said it in ’94.
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The Library
by Mary B., Ridgway, PA
I love to get lost
In the miraculous world
Of words and sonnets and fiction
And history and fables
Of groaning floorboards
And deathly silence
Of unbounded shelves
And limitless words
It reeks of familiar, musty odor
Of adventure and lust and ...
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Titration
by Scott M., Oak Ridge, TN
This selection can be found in Chicken Soup for the Teen Soul, the 7th in the Teen Ink
book series, all available in bookstores nationwide and online.
Continue...
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Traveling
by Jennifer L., Pickerington, OH
The sea shines wearily,
Aching for the moon.
I lost my way,
A thousand minutes ago.
I wish I could just be lost.
I slept through the apocalypse,
I drowned in the summer rains.
I couldn’t find my water wings,
To recover me again.
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Unsung Elegy
by Kaelynn H., Pullman, WA
Escalating above/beyond/
may I ascertain the legitimacy of life/who knew
I could smile beside you/on this
muddy road of puddles/
repentance and tears/
drop by drop/breath between breath/
Mingle together of what
is left/of love.
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Untitled
by Kelly A., Valhalla, NY
Love equals wealth in a cramped house -
the most valuable thing you can have is
God.
In a cramped house, you don’t need religion
because when you sing, you are most
happiest singing -
you know God is listening and reading “Singer”
next to ...
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Writing Again
by Lindsay K., San Marino, CA
Writing again - navigating again
through a harrowing maze of
ceaseless steel structures and pillars,
their smell of freshly printed black ink
calls tauntingly, their names seared into
the recesses of your mind: thesis,
Times New Roman, topic sentence and
on and on ...
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Poetry articles from the Teen Ink Archives
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