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- Poetry > Free Verse
Jack Sprat could eat no fat, his wife could eat no lean. A doctor for them prescribed a special new cuisine. Jack Sprat had anorexia, his wife was too obese, in both of them, their doctors warned heart beats were soon to cease. More veggies for his wife they said, and therapy for him. His... - Poetry > Free VerseHumpty Dumpty sat on a wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall, And doctor’s administered drugs. Despite all their best tries the egg didn’t revive and the king’s men pulled the plug. Grieving near passed and the Dumptys amassed to discuss the funeral day, when papers inspected the D...
- Poetry > Free VerseJack and Jill went up the hill and played and messed around. Jack was harmed and broke his arm and lawsuits did abound. Jack said “Felony, assault and battery” and many were concerned, but Jill cried “Slander!” and with great candor, the courtroom was adjourned. Hours passed by ...
- Nonfiction > MemoirThere’s a combination of feelings that accompanies the loss of a friend. Rejection, betrayal, defeat, and loneliness are all swirling around in my torso, like butterflies but more nauseating. I keep criticizing myself, finding flaws in me that would have inspired him to decide, out of the blue, to...
- Nonfiction > MemoirGrowing up, some of my best memories are of my father and music. My father has always had an infatuation with music, from playing it constantly to randomly bursting out into song when certain lyrics apply to a situation. As a child I always associated any kind of music to my dad, even if it wasn’t...
- Nonfiction > Personal ExperiencePeople say that I have my Dad’s smile, but I hope I inherited much more than that. I hope I inherited the sense of humor behind the smile, his ability to form a joke in an instant. I hope I got his strength, the determination to persevere when times get tough. I hope I receive the way he never sto...
- Nonfiction > Personal ExperienceEven when I was little, I was a perfectionist. I would do things over and over again until they were just right, from coloring books to homework assignments. Now that I’m older and going into my freshman year in high school, this trait has become a distinct aspect of my daily life. There are be...
- Nonfiction > MemoirI stirred and rolled on my side, vaguely aware of a tantalizing scent. As I sat up the fog cleared from my thoughts and I gleefully remembered today’s date; December 25th, Christmas. Spinning from my bedside I scampered out of my bed, pausing to clutch the balcony that overlooked our high-ceilinge...
- Nonfiction > Educator of the YearWhenever I walked into my third period English class my mind was effectively blown. The teacher, Mrs. Virginia ‘Ginny’ Walker, filled the entire room with her vibrant energy and smiles. She personally edited every writing piece we gave her and then talked to us about why she had changed things a...
- Nonfiction > MemoirYou can’t choose your family. I teeter on the edge of my bed and collapse backwards, tears streaming down my vermillion cheeks. Dad has presented one of my flaws, although I had attempted to conceal them. It wasn’t intentional and he’ll have forgotten he mentioned it, but I’m dying, musi...
- Opinion > Points of ViewThe media’s effect on the public has always been drastic, but lately it’s having an unusually negative result. Girls across America are feeling the burn as they’re bombarded with images of women who are ‘perfect’. Not only do girls expect more of themselves, they expect it younger. The TLC...
- Nonfiction > Personal ExperienceGrowing up, my father was my hero. A man so valiant, such a shining example of perfection, that it couldn’t be put into words. There was nothing a hug from Dad couldn’t cure, no tragedy his smile wouldn’t fix. As I got older, my view of him changed from that of a deity to that of someone who w...
- Poetry > Free VerseBlack is slimming, but only if you can squeeze into it. I grimace as I see another bulge, another quiver, another uncomfortable woman in a too tight dress and too high stilettos. I’m wearing a frilly green dress with matching sneakers. People are staring, some patronizing, some env...
- Nonfiction > MemoirI tip-toed to the cream door on the soft carpet and flinched as a floorboard squeaked beneath my feet. I pulled the door open and stealthily surveyed the scene. Drat. They were on the stairs, the railing hiding me in the shadows. Sometimes, if they were in the kitchen or Mom’s bedroom, I could sne...
