Mar 12

A Modern Master of Denial

You made Science your God,
idolized in golden buildings
and gilded books.
You were called upon to serve;
you burnt the Bible inked in your own hand
in the blinding flames of fear.

You made Science your servant,
you rode upon its strong shoulders,
gorged on its produce,
enslaved it to your all-consuming want and need.
When this chosen Herald brought a message
of distaste,
you dismissed it with a wave of your unhardened hand.

You made Science your Guardian,
swaddled in its calculated folds,
your life was insured by the majesty of medicine.
It monitors your very breath and heartbeat,
yet when when the warning is displayed,
your well-washed ears become deaf to 
even the shrillest siren.

You made Science your companion,
placing your hopes in its ever-growing grasp;
Confided dreams stacked like friendship bracelets
Oct 19
poem 1 comment challenge: Winter/18
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

Ice Fishing

Ice Fishing

By Ayden Clark

With a jacket like a heater

And a helmet on my head

I turn

through the


crunch crunch crunch

As the wheels break sticks

and I cautiously drive out

onto the lake

Swish Sposh

says slush on the water

Then I park

put my green and black

rod in the holder

And wait

And wait

And wait

Until the drag starts to

Ring Ring Ring

Like a bell

from the fish


The line

I reel

And reel

And reel

And the dark brown with gold


Flops out of the hole



the ice

Splash splash

Flop Flop




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 20
poem 0 comments challenge: Colors
b.ilsley5's picture

Colorful Life

As the days go on, adopting new colors 

Weather they be Stormy Ocean Blue, Poison yellow, or others 
Each and every day starts off new and fresh

Just like the new color, Bloody Red with a Little Flesh
Ablazed with new ideas, more wisdom, more colors

The infectious summer green, or Horror Movie Black
Color is all around us, in the front of our heads and back

There’s Chromatic Silver, Even Patchy Pink
Or the Murky Brown water, that flows beneath your sink

Colors take new form, filling our eyes with excitement and joy
One color sparks a memory, the others that annoy

Have you ever seen a color you don’t like? 
Neon Green, Opaque Orange

But never the Warm Tan sand, that sits along the ocean shore
Colors are the openings to our brightest moments

Colors are us, inside and out.

Sep 20
poem 0 comments challenge: Week Two
c.mcintire's picture

This is me

She stands as tall as the pine trees,
with long legs and flowing hair.
She is young with an infinite amount of potential.
She is a girl whose dreams will become reality. 

She is a hard worker, 
who rarely gives up. 
She involves herself in a multitude of activities. 
She is a girl with little free time. 

She has a bright smile.
She loves to laugh,
and crack jokes. 
She is a girl who knows the little moments are the finest. 

She is from a big family.
Who appreciates everything they sacrifice. 
She loves them a lot.
She is a family girl. 

Although she seems happy, 
She can also be down. 
Yet, attempts to see the positive in all.
She is human. 

She has big brown eyes, 
That have a spark in them.
She is proud of who she has become. 
She is me. 

Sep 20
k drake's picture

The Truth

Why is it always asked what we like about ourselves?
Why don’t we ask the interesting questions?
Why not ask about what we don’t like?
Why not write about the truth? 

Is it too negative, too real.
Nobody is a perfect optimist,
maybe writing about what you don’t like
is the therapy we all need.

You can say you’re nice,
kind, happy, and intelligent.
People say the same thing,
maybe different words but same meanings.
I’ll be the honest one.
I can be selfish, 
sarcastic, sensitive and sad.
It’s true and honest.

We are not just nice things,
we are a mix,
salty and sweet. 
Nice and mean.

I can be nice,
fun, optimistic and loyal. 
This isn’t just all I am.
These are just the good.

Why is it that we can only ever talk about the good?
The pretty, the perfect, the positive?
Why don’t we write about the bad?
Sep 20
poem 0 comments challenge: Colors
ha.thurston's picture


Blue is the saddness we sometimes feel,

Green is good luck that we like to have,

Yellow is the sunshine that keeps us happy,

Purple is the flowers we sometimes see, 

Red is the love that we have,

Orange is the creativity we show, 

Pink is the friendship that we share,

Black is the darkness that we sometimes fear,

White is the light that keeps us safe.

Sep 20

Whispers of Fire (final draft)

Final draft of the poem I read at the strike today in Brattleboro,
I might be able to post a clip of me reading it, because the youth speakers were recorded.

Ever since we were young, we've heard whispers.
Whispers not meant to such tender ears,
but now we understand and we are taking up the torch.
The torch that set fire to our gentle mother,
we are taking that torch and we are putting it out.

How do you expect us to trust you
when all you've done is tell us
“someday you will be able to make choices, someday”.
We whisper, huddling in the dark, flickering
with quiet flames, waiting for “someday”.
Spoiler Alert, “someday” never comes,
and now we are burning, fueled with rage,
when and where do we draw the line?
We draw it here and we draw it now.

Climate change is no longer a far off threat,
it is knocking directly at our front door!
Sep 20

Still not me

The red of her lips

And the blue of the sky

The green of the grass

And the brown of her eyes

All blended 

and shifted

Danced in time to a song I have now forgotten

And I watched 

as she played in the long summer ferns of the forest 

I watched as she noticed the difference between a moth and a butterfly 

I watched as she broke her own heart 

My heart 

Trying to make others happy 

That child

Was torn apart 

Ripped to a million pieces 

And put back together 

In a way that's not quite right 

That child was, is, and always will be part of me

But she's not everything 

I'm still learning 


And dancing to songs only I can hear

I'm still not entirely me 

And I won't be, not until the day I die.
Sep 20


The leaves fell as she cried
blanketing her in the colors of fire
letting her past slip away, She rose
like embers reignited 
she found herself with a new purpose 
with a flame of pure determination 
and a burning desire to live
she stood 
letting what was left of her innocence go
she blazed brighter than she had before
 within all her fire
sat her heart 
no longer would it be caged by her emotions 
forced to bow down to her sadness 
It reveled in it's freedom 
as did she 
together they had been tame hearth fires 
now they were a wild untamable inferno 
a force to be reckoned with 
and they adored every minute of it.

Sep 20


as children we laugh
as teens we cry
as adults we hide our suffering
determined to look strong
when inside we are dying.
i think that's wrong
the strongest you can be
is when you accept your feelings for what they are
being strong isn't not having weaknesses 
it's seeing them, accepting them and learning to love them
your downfalls, your weaknesses
they make you who you are 
don't hide who you are.
find strength in your problems
solutions in your weaknesses 
learn to solve problems
instead of making more.
Sep 20
poem 0 comments challenge: Colors
KadenP's picture

Colors: By Kaden

Colors are how we see our world. With out color our world would be a bland mix of black and white, here are some colors I came up with.

Mcdonalds Yellow

Oxbow Purple

Nemo Orange

Tropical Blue

Artificial Grass Green

Fall Red

Pepper Gray

Spider Eye Red

Sandstone Yellow

Desert Brown
Sep 20
immiefranklin's picture

Fruit Tree

Im full on lies 
i dont want to eat 
boys tug on fruit
they want to eat.

The branches quiver 
the trunk it aches 
but no fruit tree is taught 
to scream
this is a mistake.

Its been months but feels like a day
I feel the claws on me rough but warm,
middle of may.

The bark protected me but it begins to shed.
The subject is brought up my lips are sealed
my cheeks flush red.

My dreams are absent they no longer exist 
nightmares replace them claws tug on my wrist
marks that are left.
marks that will stay. 
If someone sees them what the fuck will i say?

'A boy wanted fruit
a boy needs to eat 
the boy was so hungry,
he likes what he sees 
he snatched all the fruit,
but I am that tree' 
Sep 19


Do not cry because you will die someday;
Laugh because you had the chance to live,
to be happy, to love something.
Do you not understand the beauty of
how no one is alike, and no one will be just like you?
In this life:
What have you cried over?
What shadows have you reasoned with?
What monsters have you battled?