Nov 16

I smile

I smile, 
through the rain,
and across the valleys,
I smile,
through the pain,
and across the grim alleys
I smile,
away from my anger
and into positivity
I smile
away from my emptiness 
and into expressivity
I smile,
and I'll keep smiling,
I'll smile for myself,
I'll smile for others,
I smile.
Nov 15

knives made of paper

if you cut me
with knives made of paper

I will bleed
ink as black as death 

words will pour from my veins
in torrents and streams

never ending
or so it seems

my life is a poem 
my days made of verses 

each second a letter
on the page of this world

if you cut me
with knives made of paper

I will bleed ink blacker than death 

if you cut me
with knives made of paper

it is something 
you're sure to regret.

for if you cut me with knives made of paper
and out spills ink blacker than death 

it will stain your pretty white paper
and that will be the end of it.  
Nov 14

Little Girl

I used to be a little girl 
She frolicked in the trees
Splashed in the brooks and sang every morning.
She asked innumerable questions
About math, about music
And she always wanted rules to be followed.
But that girl is slipping away.

I used to be a little girl
Who was maybe afraid of the dark
She loved the color purple, and cookies, and playgrounds. 
She wondered what it would like
To be an animal, or even an adult
With a little girl of her own
Who had the same laugh, the same smile.
But that girl is almost gone.

One day, I met that little girl
Sitting on a swing at my favorite playground
She stood up, and looked at me
Her sweetness and innocence shining like the sun.
I smiled at her in a silent farewell
Saw her turn, and slowly walk away
And I said goodbye to the little girl
Who used to be me.
Nov 12

Chapter one of Tone Vestige, my novel

(A/N: This isn't the entirety of the first chapter, but it's just a little piece of it, There are a few things that are explained a couple chapters later, but for now here's this.)

Chapter One

“...Come back baby
Back into my arm
We're gettin' tired of hangin' around
Waitin’ around with our heads to the ground
I hear a very gentle sound
Very near yet, very far
Very soft yeah, very clear
Come today, come today…”

-When the Music’s Over by The Doors

Nov 12
JordanSara's picture

Do You Love Aphrodite?

Aphrodite is a vision
pink and gold,
all feminine softness... 

She is grace and beauty, why
she is anything and everything you want her to be.

You'd think if you saw Aphrodite,
no one else could compare to her perfection.
You want a queen and that she will be,
peasants can grovel at her feet
which are unstained with the truth.

But Aphrodite is hollow,
an idea without a heart, 
and love is not a facade... 

She could be jealous and vain,
she could be soulless or even shallow. 

You'd think if you saw Aphrodite
no one else could ever compare... 
You want a queen and that she will be
but open your eyes, see if she has a heart, and

ask yourself,
do you love Aphrodite?
Remember that you place the crown on her head.

Nov 11
isabelle.chen's picture

Behind Closed Lids

The moment my upper eyelid connects to my lower lid

Is the moment all my thoughts come rushing at me,

Each taking a jab at my brain,

One after the other.

But most of the jabs attack me in the form of a question,

Mostly concerning the reality of my life.

What can I do to help my mother so her wrinkles don’t form any faster?

When will my family step down from running our business?

How much more money do I need to get that pair of shoes? 

I can’t think of answers fast enough before another question pops up.

It’s like a flurry of endlessness in my mind.

Never taking a break or stopping for a respite.

I can feel a headache inching its way towards me.

The thoughts spiral out of hand

And that’s the moment when I disconnect my eyelids,

The questions stopping in mid sentence,
Nov 10
activist_love's picture


Number one
Make sure
You are perfect
No quirks
No flaws

Number two
Make sure
You are normal
You're blonde
You're short

Number three
Make sure
You are balanced
Make sure you are skinny
Make sure you have curves

Number four
Make sure
You are popular
Always pretty
Always flawless 

Number five
Make sure
You are confident
No insecurities 
No shallowness 

Oh whoops
Another oop
Looks like I broke all the rules again
Nov 08


My silence is a prison
and yours is my oblivion.
Your tears speak to me,
sing of loneliness and pain.
Wish you would open your eyes and see
the way I look at you.
Wish I could open my mouth and speak,
speak my heart out to you,
but when I meet your gaze, I'm mute.
You are the night sky,
beautiful and cold.
Need the fire of hope
gold flame chasing away your shadows.
Wish I could take you to the moon
so we could paint with stardust on our cheeks,
drink the silver moonlight,
feel the cool air against our skin.

But when I meet your gaze I'm mute.
Nov 08

Words are interesting, right?

Words are interesting, right?
They’re just letters we string together and decide to add spaces in between.
We have so many rules for words, and what they do.
We learn them from early on, 
"Good morning class, today we will be learning grammar and sentence structure.
The first rule I am going to teach you is easy to remember with a cute rhyme; I before E except after C"
"Excuse me? What about the word WEIRD?" 
"Well.. um.. Let’s move on!" 
Turns out we can’t explain everything with words.
Especially emotions.
Have you ever thought to think about why we created swear words at all?
Seriously, we have all these words that we tell our children not to say,
not to ever say.
And some listen,
but even the best of us swear sometimes.
Nov 05

Blank ovals

You seem to think
I want a vote
a voice
a choice
a brain behind my grin
but all I want are blank ovals 
and a sharpie to fill them in.

I'd color each
in orderly lines
like soldiers
they smolder
a fire tinged vapor
but it won't burn away all my blank ovals
or the sharpie marks bleeding into the paper.

I press down
my sharpie
inky blood
deep grudge
carved into history
these blank blank ovals
Nov 03


your favorite song
played on repeat
though you never got tired of it

a morning dawn
day after day
but you woke to see it every six am

so headstrong
you tailed behind
always by my side

right or wrong
you stayed with me
breaths heavy every time

come along
follow the stones
like we do when the sun rises

of mine.
Nov 02

Letters to the Stones in the Garden

Last night I fell asleep listening to the 
rain hit my window 

the wind blew so hard 
that the house tipped over 
and I slept on the walls 

the heavy drops shattered the glass panes 
and filled up my room 
with their seeds of change 
and new ideas 

so I closed my eyes and 
pretended the world 
was not so backwards 

once someone asked me 
how I fell in love with lightning 

why I sat at my window every night 
wishing for the sky to break in half 

I never told them the answer 

instead I broke all the glass in my house 
hoping without mirrors I wouldn’t have to worry 

sometimes I dream of far away places 
but with the storm beyond the glass 
I dream of nothing at all 

instead I wonder 
if lightning ever gets self conscious
about how loud she is 

I wonder if she wishes she was a sunflower 
Nov 01

Marianne Williamson

We need Marianne Williamson to be the next president of the United States. 

Marianne not only knows what she's doing but she also knows what to say. She's talking about love and peace and harmony where other people are just digging us into a hole or talking about the problems instead of the solutions.
If you don't know who Marianne is, look her up. Watch her talk. Listen to her ideas. Some of it might sound really radical but that's the point. Love is radical nowadays. 
I got the chance to meet her this summer and talk to her. You know how some adults like listen to you then brush you aside? She looked in my eyes the entire time and talked to me like she would have any other person with a vote. 

Her favorite idea of mine is her plan for the Department of Children and Youth. We are being left behind and Marianne knows it. 
She's willing to fight for us and everyone across the world.
Oct 30
JordanSara's picture

I Pity The Ghosts Tonight

The ghosts are flitting
round the room 
and chandeliers,

their bodies are but wisps, 
opaque but for a glow,
rendering them there, but not quite.

They moan and beseech,
wails aching from empty hearts
and gasping from ungovernable lips,

these poor souls, they whine for life
but someone knows they begged
just for a little reprieve.

Their lips are sewn shut with spider silk,
they could break it, but they choose to wordlessly lament so
they live, yes, but only in self pity... 

they long to say so much
yet they have nothing to utter, with trembling lips,
so they reach for me to warm their souls with words.

Oh, but they do not know
(how I pity the ghosts tonight),
my mind, my thoughts,
unraveled long, long ago.
Oct 29

Guest Room

There's a stranger
in my house. 
She takes a seat at an 
invisible chair and 
stares me down. 
"You're lonely," she says, 
twirling a piece of hair around her 
hazy fingers. 
Smoke clouds around her collarbone 
and slips past me like 
"How did you know?" I ask, 
then shake my head. 
It's obvious. 
By the way I stare
for a second too long out
the windows, by the way
I leave little scraps 
of paper strewn about 
my bedroom- notes on my life, reminders, 
a sentence or two that came to me
and seemed poetic. 
She laughs, the stranger
in my house. She laughs
as if this is all a 
great and fascinating joke. 
"I'm here to stay," she says. 
"I'd like the guest room 
with an extra chair inside."
She twinkles, knowing that I'll do 
anything for her, my lovely,
lonely self. 
"I'm expecting a guest or two."
Oct 28
poem 4 comments challenge: CJP-Guns


I wore high heels to school. 
and my mother said to me in the parking lot,
'be careful on the stairs.
and if something goes wrong and you have to flee,
just take off those shoes and run.' 
if something goes wrong,
take off those shoes and run

I said okay and I nodded because I have heard all this before. 
be prepared for the worst. 
if you have to run for your life in school, 
take off those pretty shoes and leave them. 

I should not be expecting to run for my fucking life in school. 
Oct 27

Teacup Listening

Word play,
old records spun to dissolving.
Creatures shooting up
from the soil of my mouth.
Trying to pry their way out until
I let free the dam and it floods the page.
Becoming more ink then reason.
You see, you don't choose the words,
the words choose you.

Oct 25
Ryan Malloy's picture

To Tell or Not to Tell

She looks across the candlelit dinner

The man across from her smiles

She looks at his smile and notices something black

Something in his teeth

It looks like a piece of the salad he ordered

Probably a piece of lettuce

She looks at him and wonders whether to say something or not

As he goes on and on talking about God knows what

She can’t help but sit there and look at the dreadful thing in his teeth

She watches him, hoping in some way he will notice so she doesn’t have to say anything

She tries to give a subtle smile to what he was talking about 

Trying not to be distracted by the piece of food in his teeth

Finally he sips his drink, the food no longer there as he asks a question

She answers immediately and says “teeth”

With a confused look he just sits there and laughs as they continue with their dinner
Oct 25
fiction 0 comments challenge: Wind
cunninge1's picture

Deep in the Mine.

Every morning, after taking one last whiff of the crisp cool breeze I ride the train down into the mine. It winds through cramped dark tunnels, lit only by the dim light of our headlamps. We arrive in a small clearing that smells of sweaty men covered in grime and coal dust. I operate the drilling machine, drilling holes where explosives can be deposited. I long for the whisper of the breeze in my ears and the way it tickles my neck. I miss the way it lightly tossles my hair and ruffles my clothing. I hope for the night to come.

We arrive above the ground at midnight. The stars greet us, their glittering forms like beacons of light on a hopeless journey.  Thinking of the breeze we feel and the scenic beauty we see at night, helps every man to get through each day. The luminous moon illuminates the path to the parking lot. I walk to my car and head home.
Oct 23
BabyPoto's picture

The life we live

    The early morning sun rose from the horizon, passing over the crashing waves as they settled onto the cold morning sand. Few birds filled the skies and the clouds spread like a painting. The gentle breeze picked up across the sand, dust flying up onto the beach coating the high grass upshore. My hand slid across the sand, stretching far to wake my body. A chill crawled down my spine as a gust of cool morning air touched my bare back, slightly coated with packed sand. The glare of the sun’s rays peeked through the waves, igniting the world around me as a smile spread across my face, the familiar smell of salt touching my nose. The lines of sun coated the ground in long strips, traveling on past the dunes to the west, farther than the human eye could see.