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Feb 10

To Vote, or Not to Vote?

   To vote is to take part in a Democratic system, and to help decide which candidate will be the most beneficial for your nation. But what if neither candidate represents your point of view? Is it still patriotic to vote, even if it means voting for someone you don’t believe in?    
Jan 22


I wish I had known you
Before the darkness crept in,
Before the voices whispered,
Before the demons lurked in every corner.

Kind, compassionate, caring.
All manner of “C” sounds to describe you then.
They describe you now still,
Only changed.
Only not.

It first manifested,
Ceaseless, complex, cacophonic.
Your diary read “I can’t take this,”
And you hit your mother with a wrench,
Or so you thought.
Audio download:
schizo 3.mp3
Dec 22

I don't want to hear it

"how many
can you fit in a car?"

Can you please not
say that?

Can you not even
think it?

This is stem class
why aren't you paying attention?
(like everyone else)

can you please wait
and check
(with me)
before you make these jokes?

They aren't funny.
(they aren't even a joke)
They are just a way for
you to make fun of people
so that you
"look cool"

Dec 17
poem 4 comments challenge: Banned
Icarus Blackmore's picture

7 Words

Just Turn Away.
Avert your gaze.
Tear out and,
Crumple up the page.

It isn’t there,
If you don’t look.
It’ll disappear if
You just keep yourself unaware.

        You can beat ‘em,
        Even when they’re down
        On the ground.
        Believe they can stand?    
        Then just hit ‘em again.
        It’s not your fault,    
Dec 10

Not Forever

When I was younger,
I did not understand
why I was not allowed outside after dark
or why I couldn't play with knives.

When I was younger,
I could not fathom
why my parents never watched the news around me
Or why I was told to say
no, I don't feel comfortable when you do that.

When I was younger,
I got angry when
I couldn't walk home with my friends.
or go see the new PG13 movie in town.
Nov 27

dancing on a white picket fence

I saw her
when she was
dancing on a white picket fence.

The sunlight dappled her
autumn hair and the freckles on her nose
as she twirled in the breeze.

Closed eyes
while the melody
played on her skin.

Her feet knew the way
like they had been dancing
for a thousand years.

A daisy
flipped behind her left ear
as she swayed, skipped, and jumped.

The world was far away
for her
Nov 20
poem 9 comments challenge: Wonder
H20.hollym's picture

Pink and Blue

I wonder why our boys are told
that they mustn't let their souls slip out,
they remain safe if it is hidden.
It would be an act of horror
if it were to roll down their cheek for all to see.

I wonder why our boys are told
that they should blaze blue or rage red,
as they throw, or catch, or tackle.
The words beautiful should not be uttered
about anything other than a female,
especially not yourself.
Nov 17


My life is a canvas,
The paints of my palette are the experiences and lessons that I have learned,
And my pictures are the events that come with living.
I am the artist.
I'm the only one who can paint my story.

So why do other people feel the need to paint my life for me?
And why do I let them?

This is my masterpiece, why am I letting these amateurs deface it?
Oct 25
Nightheart's picture


I need 
to get out of this place,
where the ideas crush
my wings 
and chain me down,
instead of letting me fly.
I need to 
to get out of this place,
where the concrete
jungles loom,
and the smoke 
from the factories
clogs the air
and enters my lungs,
making me choke.
I need 
to get out of this place,
where the regular colors
are beige and gray,
and I've started fading,
slowly blending in.
Oct 23
wondering about rain's picture

Clair de Lune

Clair de Lune played over and over in my head
as my fingers followed each note,
gently grazing the keys on the piano.
I imagined I was debussy under a full moon
with its light spilling over me,
playing to my little sister as she falls happily asleep.
The rolling of the music matching the lethargic rolling of the oceans waves
on a beach from a summer long past.
The stillness of the night stood unbroken
Oct 22
poem 0 comments challenge: I Am

I Am Who I Am

I am who I am -
The birds in the silky blue sky,
Silently soaring.
The bright painted leafs on the trees,
Swaying in the Breeze. 
The unknown, unnamed fish in the sea;
Swimming wherever the current 
Takes me.
Oct 17


Editor's Note: This piece is featured on 

9:50 pm
a starlit city on the
dawn of october,
burned red with bar signs
and stop lights.

on this night in Sin City
steam rose from the
floor of the concrete jungle.
predators prowled, prey lurked.
metal vines swung from construction sites,
sun and moon peered between buildings to cast
Oct 12


through the lens i saw you
shudder in the cold.
i captured your paths detaching
frost from blades of grass,
scrunching your eyes with a
passing over your face.
glasses fogging up,
like smoke through dense
december air,,

i wonder why you always look happier on film.
Sep 29
whatever's picture

the daily ritual

Mom. Give me space. You’re sUFFOCATING ME. I’m not allowed to go places with my friends anymore because, yes, I’ve made some questionable choices in the past, but I’m a teenager! All teenagers are a little irresponsible! Let me live woman! If you continue to try to “protect me” I’m going to go to college and go absolutely crazy! I know, I know, it’s because you want me to be safe, you care about me, blaahh blaahh blaaaahhh.
Sep 24
Fiona Ella's picture

rock cycle

i discreetly wrote this in science class, constantly looking over my shoulder to make sure no one was prowling around, ready to pounce on me for being off-task, which is why it's so short. if anyone was wondering. 

weathering doesn't happen quckly, 
you can't wear a mountain down to a speck in a day. 
it takes a long long time, 
centuries of raindrops streaking the surface, 
centuries of gusty winds whipping at a raw nose, 
Sep 18

Today, It Snowed Milkweed

I crouched in the field
just below the grass line ; 
the scratchy strands itching my bare feet 
and then,
I saw it.

The stalk 
was just out of arms reach
and slowing to the end of its life;
brown pods sprouted off the top
creating the effect of a miniture corn stalk.

I pulled one from the dying stem 
and cradled it gently in my palm.
Then, without pause 
I dug my fingertips
into the heart ot the pod,
Aug 27
Icarus Blackmore's picture

End of Summer Poem

Gold stains the green leaves,
The summer sun whispers goodbye,
As the birds sing their farewells,
And shadows creep over the yard

They beckon forth the days of cold.
Their shapes sinister and strange,
They are reminders of short evenings,
And the mountains of school work I am to face.

I long for summer’s empty warmth,
The unkeepable promise of never ending days,
Only accentuated by the starry night,
Aug 01
Mackenzie 101's picture

The Laughing Man

I walk down the street.
It’s evening,
The sun is still out,
The grass is glowing,
And my face is probably burning.
I slip on my sunglasses and see
The world through a different lense,
As I turn the corner I almost run over two girls.
They both have ice cream in their hands,
They both have pigtails,
They both are living life to the fullest,
And they’re both laughing.
As I continue walking,
Jul 20


Jul 20

seen in roanoke

today i saw three children
they were not much younger than i am
sixteen, or maybe seventeen years old
sleeping under an old concrete bridge

their shoes lay hapharzardly next to them
the soles of their tired feet grimy and bare
i thought of how hard, how unforgiving 
the stone must feel beneath their heads

then i walked
in clean shoes and socks
into an art musuem 
so sit leisurely and look at paintings