August
by Christina O., Rocky Hill, CT
In the heart of August
From high above
The sun’s eyes burn bright
And he wildly smiles
As he hurls his rays
Of boiling, humid glue
We are targeted
And hit
He laughs triumphantly
Now, ...
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Beautiful Static
by Brittany M., Pretty Prairie, KS
I sat this morning by my window,
watching a small insect struggle toward the top,
the brim, possibly to freedom,
or so it thought.
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Chemistry Equations & Geometric Theorems
by Crystal A., Lancaster, WI
feels like just yesterday we were wandering these hallwaysnow it’s today
[it would appear we’ve never left]
it’s a time warp,
I swear. algebra? well,
if x=me & y=school then *xy=surreal*
[just call me confused.
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Fifty Years
by Alison S., Kirkwood, MO
Fifty Years
wind rattles the blackened leaves
rendered
by this long autumn.
once supple bark has dried and stripped
away
from naked trunks.
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Fronts
by Olivia C., W. Palm Beach, FL
Despite my westerly wind,
I have unwillingly been carried east.
East where everything is and must
be defined, refined, and redefined.
East where we sleep on top
of the sheets of unloving beds.
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In My Mind
by Jenny P., Highlands Ranch, CO
I am like a tree
With different sides of me
Standing very tall
Just for all to see
Nature views me silently
I see the world so quietly
I’m merry during spring and summer
Bright and full of bloom
I grow and ...
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Incorrigible Road
by Alyssa B., Setauket, NY
Kill the headlights.
Am I confined to a looking box in the road?
Feet melted to the pavement, one with the dreary mold while faces peer through the glass
fields of their minds.
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Inspiration
by Meg B., New York, NY
The callus
(on the left side of
the third crease)
on my
middle finger
mimics the twisted balloon-animal lines
of poets
again and again
hoping for inertia.
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Loved One
by Brian C., Abington, MA
As far as the gypsy’s eye can see
As low as the clouds that touch the trees
The blades of grass, the dying leaves
Love consumes endlessly
Fluttering of the moth’s gentle wings
The woman in the woods that will never ...
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Mall Mission
by Lindsey S., Cromwell, CT
Her fanny-pack zippers jingled fiercely
As she plowed through fellow shoppers.
With quick steps and clenched fists,
She made her way down the aisles.
Family struggled to keep up with her.
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Mary’s Lamb and the Beast
by Holly R., Fruita, CO
Mary’s lamb was black as coal
His eyes half blind with hate
And everywhere that Mary went
Her lamb would lie and wait
And when they were all alone
He’d whisper sweetly in her ear
And filled her pretty little ...
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Ominous Winds
by Victoria R., San Antonio, TX
Ominous winds blowing
telling me of their dark, twisted secrets.
I walk upon the shore of corpses
leaving blood imprints of my feet
in the tainted sand.
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Personal Statement
by Anonymous, Miami Beach, FL
I am variety; pick a topic.
I do have a purpose, I simply haven’t unlocked it.
My personal statement is my heart and soul:
my tragedies and dreams, but most of all my goals.
I am a philanthropist, ready and always willing.
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Petrified
by Willow A., Grass Lake, MI
The bottoms of my feet are black,
Scorched from forest fires long ago.
My teeth are rotted, my face is scarred,
Carved into a joyous smile,
And in my eyes and down my cheeks
Run the deepest grain you’ll ever see.
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Recorded Fantasy
by Heidi M., Lexington, KY
The record sighed
Dreaming of a happier fantasy
Where trumpets blared
and pianos roared
and millions of rich-men shoes
tapped
themselves into oblivion
And there were ladies in
puffed sleeves
standing by the ...
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Sunset Song
by Xiangying L., Pointe-Claire, QC, Canada
Above the horizon hover sun-stained clouds
Like the combustion of childhood dreams
Beneath indigo skies the fireball shrouds
And mocks the lingering gold sunbeams
Heaven-lit Gateways of the West so amber
Brilliant with majesty ...
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The Attics
by Lalita R., Winchester, NH
In the attics of my life
A man, or perhaps a boy,
Sits day after dulling day.
I bring him food
And I stay to talk to him.
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The Sun May Go Down
by Elliot E., Kirksville, MO
When it seems that all you care for has met its sad demise,
It is prudent to remember
The sun may go down, but the moon shall rise.
Just as the tide flows out, it returns again to shore.
And it is the same with coral.
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Winter Morn
by Collin B., Flower Mound, TX
on a lovely winter’s morn
not a leaf or twig or thorn
could poke up past the icy sheet
or through the overlying sleet.
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Yellow and Brown
by Rachael R., Dacula, GA
i am nothing. (but a little yellow sundress and brown feet slapping down cottage woods court
under a sloppily painted sunset,
which drips through magnolia trees and eases into open windows and competes with
the devilish blue flicker of
the ...
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