May 13
VTSloth's picture

Elda Harris

Elda Harris,
The most popular 
girl
in the world.
Yet it seems
no one 
knows her.

Elda Harris,
Always standing,
back straight 
as a wood board.

Elda Harris,
The one who never speaks,
and still,
always chattering 
off,
about anything and nothing.

Elda Harris,
Who is she?

Elda Harris,
I think we're freinds.

Elda Harris,
How old is she?
Where is she from?
IS she my friend?

Elda Harris,
I now
know who you are.

Elda Harris,
I figured you out.

Elda Harris,
You are a wonder.
If I imagine you to be.
My friend.
 
May 10
VTSloth's picture

Paper.

White

Blue

Purple

Grey

Black

Yellow

Green

Orange

Red.

So many

C

 O

  L

   O

    R

     S

       !
You 

Fold,

The perfect

Crisp

Paper

Creasing

Under

Your fingertips.

Crimping,

Like

Pie.

Folding,

Like 

Dough.
Tuck it.

Pleat it.

Turn over.

Bend and overlap it.
I love that

Precious

Precious

Paper.

My fine paper.
Sit.

On the steps.

By yourself.

At night.

In the rain.

Out in the cold.

With a piece of

Paper

And a pen.

With black ink.

It is cold, outside.
May 05
poem challenge: Music
VTSloth's picture

Gale and Water

The 
T
 R
   I
    C
     K
      L
       E
of a small stream
with
BIG
boulders
and leaves
and tiny
pebbles.
I love the sound and feel of that
Cold
Bitting
Chilling
Icy-cold
Glacial
Fridged
Frosty
Crisp
Sharp
Peircing
Numbing
Bleak
water.

Even with the 
b
A
l
M
y

Summer
sun. 
the water
still bites at your fingers and feet.

The music of the stream of water hitting 
the pebbles and the wind

M   O      V         I            N               G,

rippling,
the narrow body of water.

The water is gently clear,
pine needles 
and 
maple
leave
f
l
o
a
t

The air clear,

the dribble
of water,

gale gusting,

THAT
is
my 
kind
of
Apr 16
VTSloth's picture

I Don't Know What I'm Writing

I don’t know what I’m writing.
I don’t know what it is going to be about.
And I am not going to edit it.
I am writing for 20 minutes. Because it is my assignment. But I can’t just write like some people. Taking a walk doesn’t exactly work for my brain to come up with ideas. Prompts are iffy. 
But I can write arguments
Serious things.
Like the climate crisis.
Or sillier things.
About the best place to get ice cream.

The worst book or TV show.

If Canada or Vermont has better maple syrup than the other.
I am quiet.

I can be louder. But sometimes I choose not to be. Not because I want to be.
I just am.
Tiredness can take over. Or sad and maddening things.

Tiredness can make my voice almost a whisper.
Almost.
Confusion. 
Sadness.
Madness.
The just why?
These are all feelings. Just feelings.
But sometimes, they can make the world mean something again.
Apr 13
poem challenge: Nice
VTSloth's picture

Vermont Summer Morning

First Summer morning.

You wake up half sweating,
but feeling fresh.

You change into shorts for the first time,
and walk outside.

You sit on the porch,
the sun bright,
shinning,
in your face.

It feels nice.
Not nice, but actually 

Nice.

Like 
R
 E
  A
   L
Nice.

You are sitting alone
on your porch.

The birds tweet.
The Cardinals
The Blue Jays
The Red Wing Black Birds
The Crows
and
The Gold Finches

It feels warm,
well,
warmmer than a spring morning.

The grass wet
The birds chirping
The odd warmmness
The alone sitting

It this isn't nice
I
Don't
know
what 
is.



 
Apr 13
VTSloth's picture

Your Fault.

So....
You ask me to write about the climate in the perspective of an animal.
As a mammal,
A human,
I am an animal.
So I will write in my perspective.

Thick air.
Rising waters.
Wildfires.

I think,
It
Is
ALL
Your
Fault.

I think,
How
DARE
you.

Those trees are 
F
A
L
L
I
N
G

Can you 
HE
AR
Me?

That air.
It feels
tight.

Like it will 
D
 E
  S
   T
    R
     O
      Y
Me.
Crush me like a can. 
Or.
A Plastic water bottle.
Wherre will that bottle go?
In a
L
A
N
D
 F
  I
   L
    L
Into the ocean.
The ocean life will eat the plastic.
Get sick.
Die.

It KEEPS
Happening!!!!!!!!!!!

Just 
STOP.