Oct 24


I cry
I curl up
and time stops
until I'm trapped... 
I want to stop
I want to smile
and hide
but I can't
I want to keep it in
and leave me to be
but I know 
the truth will hurt me
my feelings are too loud
Oct 19
Ordinary Owen's picture

Solitary Winter

Swing sets grind to icy halts, and fluffy layers of snow are trampled as my classmates swarm into chaotic crowds, eager to leave December’s chilled embrace.

Friends leave mid-conversation, teachers stop listening to maintain the mob of 11-year-olds.

Insulted that the snow, blanketed with care, has been destroyed, abandoned Winter begins to straighten the ground once more with frigid attention.

Eyes lost in the glistening seas of snowflakes as they slowly climb down from the heavens above, a body stands by the howling wind.

There is a comfort found in frost. A solace found in the cold.

Lone Winter and I find friendship. We do not leave each other mid-conversation, we do not stop listening. Because in the presence of each other we are not alone.

One electric blue jacket stays within this gelid plain of white.
Oct 16
ccdussault's picture

Snow Plow

Digging holes in the snow,
These would be our homes.
We are like an old couple,
Bickering back and forth on who has made the best one.

The cold had made it to our fingertips,
Our red cheeks glowed brighter as the bright flashing light moved closer to us.
A loud roar creeps towards us by the second.
A rush of adrenaline soars through us as we run away.
We are stumbling,
as the snow grabs onto our feet after each step we take.
We feel the strike of cold shoot through our bodies as we go head first into the snow.

Wiping the bitter blizzard away from our faces,
We watch at the last instant,
as our whole afternoon is diminished.

We watch the light fade away,
With sour faces.
As if nothing had happened,
Our whole afternoon had been abolished.

Oct 16

Joyous Winter

White flakes
         Drifted down to the cold ground
                 Covering the dead grass with a fresh sheet of foam
                               Laughter filled the air
                  As small children ran out the door
           All bundled up in their coats, hats, scarves, and gloves
Their boots left little footprints in the fresh snow as they ran

Their joyous laughter         cut threw the muffled cold air
As they caught crisp snowflakes on their tongues

Screams of enjoyment echoed from their mouths
            As they were called back in
                    With rosy pink cheeks and red noses
             Their shivering bodies ran back through the door

For a warm cup of cocoa
The sign

That winter has come
Oh joyous winter  

Oct 09
adowning's picture



Benjamin Edwards

Skis fly

Target seen

Jump into prone

Steady to fire  
Skis fly

Target has a hole

Jump up

And off I go
Skis fly

Shot again

Get back up

Dash off
Skis fly

I’m a blur

Faster faster
My tired eyes cross the line
Oct 09
adowning's picture

Black Ice

Black ice

By Regis Houlier

Black ice, the villain of


Always incognito

Hiding, Waiting for me. Wanting me

To slip into its trap

Creeping up right under me  

And right when I get near it

When I least expect it

It springs to attack

Shooting me

Across its villainess body


And slamming  

Me to the ground like

A nail

 Laughing at me

With its cold heart

As I limp away

In pain

Oct 09
adowning's picture

Winter and Summer

Winter & Summer

By Lauren Angus
Love catching snowflakes on my glove

Summer’s popsicle  

Both melting as soon as you get them
Love building a snowman

Summer’s sand castle

They don't last long
Love having snowball fights

Summer’s water balloons

You get wet either way  
Love finding icicles

Summer’s flowers

They come every year
Love having snow days

Summer’s vacation

Always outside  


They are almost the same

Just different
Oct 06
kat_writer's picture


Winter, such a bleak time
but in some way magical.
With all of winter's great, fluffy snow
it's a shame that it's dark
when I get home from school.

What is better 
than after a great day with the skis,
than coming home
to hot food and TV?

Winter, when my hands dry up
and my house works to stay warm.
I roll in the snow like a child and wonder
without the snow, what would life be?

This season is such a meaningful time
for all people like me.
And while it is below zero out there,
I appreciate me,
and this massive warm box I call home.

Winter, when we all curl up
like tiny little kittens.
Some people wish to find warmth down south,
While others must stay in this white heaven.

I go outside and watch my breath
float away in the wind,
I cannot believe this will end,
But also want spring to begin
Sep 18

Hospital waiting rooms

Tonight I dream of red tape
Red tape and bureaucratic lines and pens with clickers broken
Of hospital waiting rooms with stuffed plastic chairs
Little boys and girls patched up with stickers and lollies
X-rays to detect cancer and gunshots to close holes
Piles of paperwork, absolutely monstrous amounts of paperwork
Referrals and specialists and appointments and cancellations
And phone calls to those specialists to get the appointments back
Crinkly wax paper on disguised autopsy tables
Little rubber triangles to test the reflexes we know I don't have
Scripts drilled into heads so there's enough time to get bagels before appointment four
Hours lost in in-between rooms painted light blue
A scratched up child's abacus and abandoned cardboard books in the corner
Tied up in mazes of beige hallways
I dream of hours spent in a dented green Subaru distracted by books 

Sep 18

Bound and Embossed

Last night I curled up with a good book
Let ink-stained fingers trace spirals down my spine
Papery hands brush damp hair from my face at midnight
Caressed with consonants
Vitrified with the heat of vowels on her lips
We lounged under the moonlight through arched windows
Recited lost Latin lines to marble busts watching
Bound and embossed together

Sep 18

Monotony and a Pencil

Adorned by graphite expectations 
Fingers gripping tightly 
To the chipping yellow nub
To the hopes and dreams
He’s afraid will dry up
Surge through his head
Washing gentle waves upon his brain 
Gentle are not the words he wishes to convey 
Nonetheless he lets the silence envelop him 
Fantasies of freedom 
Gone along with the sunkissed inspiration 
And will to rise from his seat
Choking on the dread that filled his lungs 
It smells of anxiety and highlighter ink
many a homework assignment late or incomplete 
And of the many many people who may have sat 
But in this silence too, sink 
Wishing much like he that they too could be gone 
In just one easily mistakable blink 
He raises his head 
But all he can see is chartreuse and honey yellow 
Sharp circles and soft triangles 
is the cast of all his troubles 
Sep 18

Past Apples

Holding past apples in arms:
what almost has
selvage and leaf-lavish open.
Sep 18
poem challenge: Glittering


Here I am on the toy shelf
all alone in the dark basement
dreams of the days where I was played with
they seem so far away right now
ever since he left for Montana
Those rainy Thursdays in April
Where I was brought out of the darkness
Just seems like any other day now

Day after day I waited
Waited for the time when I could be useful
Sitting in darkness 
The only light I ever see 
Is the dim lightbulb above me

Finally he came home after endless months
The feelings of happiness that were so far deep down
Started to rise up just a little 
Only to be pushed farther down
He came down the old wooden steps
Happiness rose up again
Until I saw who he was with
Another boy took my spot 

As his playmate
There they sat in all their glittering glory
Sep 18

mood ring

i fell in love with you
on a friday. you
had just flown back from
florida the previous day and
came to see me play guitar
on a stage where
the colors are the brightest
and give us both migranes. 

i fell in love with you
on a friday. you 
held my hand in the back
in the dark,
stroking my thumb because
i was so nervous 
i was shaking. 
but everything turned out fine
because you were there.

i fell in love with you
on a friday. you 
came over to my house and
we sat in my room and 
at my piano, talking and
softly singing and just
happy to be together.
your mood ring was blue: happy.
my silver ring didn't change colors at all.

i fell in love with you
on a friday. you
gave me four painted wooden blocks
spelling out my nickname
and wrote tiny messages on the back.
i think i hugged you for at least 30 seconds
Sep 17

Old books

I've read Orwell and Golding and Dante
Enjoyied Twain and Huxley and Bronte
Drank Vonnegut, Austen and Shelly
Let dusty words fall in my belly
I've read books about ships and great trees
Chapters of trips overseas
I've read piles of fiction without any friction
I've conversed with Emma and Jane
Tried to polish them off, all in vain
And though I like the horses much better than porsches
And tar can be overthrown by the sounds of cobblestone
I'd rather read books from magical places
Then try to end up in philosophers graces 

Sep 17

Fall coming

Summer leaves drop
with guilt
on cold dew grass
always when I am not
my eyelashes seeming to 
shake them off the branches
with each blink 
I wish to starch them flat
with my grandmother's iron
and try to press out the brown 
from their stems
til they start to smoke

fall is the only season that
cannot be undone
that cracks in a day
and shatters in a week

and when I draw shapes 
in the foggy window
I watch them fade
again and again

Sep 17

September Morning

In the anticipation of fall colors,
There is a smell of the burning of summer’s last great triumph
The clouds over the shifting trees gild the ground with a web of drops
The fresh rain tastes of quarters dropped in the gutter and wet wool sweaters
The grass is spongy and in it’s green strands it holds tightly to the lost dreams of a fading season
The soft folds of the hills's silk skirt drift over the horizon 
The piece of peace that comes with september mornings finds a spot to rest in the deepest part of a lake
And all is still.
Sep 16
poem challenge: Sunrise

If I Were The Sunrise

Some days I swear I can drink the sunrise
I could race it to the horizon and back up again
And if the orange tint got closer to my reaching hands
And the rose mist wanted to waltz around my molars
I would just become the colors myself
Hands dissolving into rainbows trapped in dewdrops
The twinkle in my eye coming to rest upon your windowpane
My voice traded to a rooster, my lips traded to a mountain-frame
Hair washing over villages of people still asleep 
Sep 16
poem challenge: First Grade

First grade lessons

fingers sticky with apple juice 
holding the straps of my backpack so hard
peel my small hands off, they stick to the rough straps 
slowly jumping up and down on my heels
staring at my red brick school 
the bell rings and my hands fly to my ears
the bell is too loud 
teachers with tired eyes come outside 
and herd us in like sheep and cattle 
all our footsteps sound like rumbling thunder 
echoes throughout the halls 
a morning filled with 
ABC's and 
Get to Know You's 
then it's lunchtime 
the cafeteria is loud 
and I want to cover my ears
I sit with my friends
a boy comes over 
yells something about
and he runs away screaming
back to his table
where they are all snickering 
my tablemates exclaim and giggle
am I the only one that doesn't understand? 
the bell rings
my hands instantly fly to my ears
Sep 16

To all shy people

You may be shy
Or nervous
Or think people don't like you
(They do, though)
But that's okay
Shy people are kind
They are super trustworthy
And let you talk since
They know what it's like to be left out
They'll be quiet but amazing and kind and smart
They hear almost everything
Every joke and whisper
But won't go and spread it around
They don't get noticed too much
So they'd be great spies
Lots of people like them
SInce they are not super loud
And instead, will listen to their problems
And give awesome advice
They are a little hard to read
But if you like them, just tell them
And they might surprise you and like you back
They make the best friends ever
And even though they might not have as much as some people
They have strong relationships with their friends 
They don't trust many