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




Mar 13
poem 1 comment challenge: General
Layjmo's picture

So the River has Begun

So the river has begun
It’s flowing ever onward
Setting like the sun
On a time when we were stronger

It’s flowing ever onward
Impossible to control
On a time when we were stronger
Before we got stuck in this hole

Impossible to control
Moving much too rapidly
Before we got stuck in this hole
About to reach catastrophe

Moving much too rapidly
Though fate still rests in our own hands
About to reach catastrophe
It’s hard not to do what the universe commands

Though fate still rests in our own hands
Setting like the sun
It’s hard not to do what the universe commands
So the river has begun
Mar 12
hathawar's picture

The path

As I was walking down the path that was next to my house,
Wondering where it would come out, where would I be
Right in the middle of the path was a tree, not an ordinary tree, it was an extraordinary tree.
It had beautiful pink flowers on it, and when the wind came through, the flowers came down like rain.
It was such a beautiful sight, 
With all the leaves falling in showers, I could stand there for hours.

I walk along that path every day and when I get to the tree I stay.
I have never walked to the end of the path to see where it would go.
I told my family about the tree; it made them laugh,
“Oh no,” they said, “I have never seen a tree on that path.”

So every day when I see the tree
I think of how wonderful it is that it only shows itself to me.
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
Mar 12

Beautiful Force of Nature

She was beautiful, but in a different sort of way.

A sort of way that made the ground tremble before her.
The oceans part when she tells them to,
the sky breaks open when she yells.

When she smiles the world smiles too,
releasing a rainbow and sun rays.
When her boots touch the ground worms make their way up
to the surface to try to get a glimpse of her.
Birds follow her, trying to get her to sing their song.
Deer find themselves mesmerized, not unlike being caught
in the blinding light of the sun.

She was beautiful, people say.
But people don't often see all there is.
She was beautiful, they were right about that.
But she was something else, too. Something stronger.

She was a force of nature.

Mar 12
Woolg's picture


The rumbling was starting to get to me. The sound of the trees falling and the house that I've grown up in for these past 14 years, crumbling beneath our feet.
“To the basement!” barked my mom.
“What? Why-” I started.
“NOW,” my mom said with building fury.
I ran upstairs and grabbed my favorite blanket.
“Avery!” my mom yelled up the stairs. “We don’t have time for this right now. Go to the basement, NOW!”
I realized that this wasn’t any type of joke. This. Was. Real.
“Honey? Come down please,” my mom said with a worried voice.
I snapped out of my daze, grabbed everything I could and, being careful to not drop anything, sprinted downstairs to the embrace of my mom. My mom and my little brother followed me down the stair to the so-called, “Hurricane Hangout.” When we got inside, my mom locked the steel door, making sure it wouldn’t open to keep us safe for the span of the many, many hours ahead of us.
Mar 09
Auggie Cat's picture

The Day I Was Okay

I was asked when I was last okay
A simple question for most
Yet I had no answer

I thought to Before
When my world was stable
Yet then I was not okay

I couldn't remember
Not a time
Or a place
Or a feeling

And then I took a chance
Thought about the worst thing that could happen
Then realized I had already faced that

So I was soon surronded by smiling kids
Who wanted my attention
Not caring of my problems

When they at last went to bad
I sat on the couch
And realized that I was okay
Mar 09


Mar 08
2madsmads's picture

Crossing the Continent: The Sun's Journey

From east to west, from sea to sea,  
The sun fans out her rays, 
And touches trees and mountaintops  
Awakening new days. 

The fields were soaked in starlight,  
The valleys masked in night, 
Soon to be awakened  
By her penetrating light. 

Upon the slopes and over peaks 
Her light directs its gaze, 
And melts the freshly fallen snow  
As quick as night’s dark shade. 

And climbing down the other side 
Of sturdy evergreens, 
She hears Niagara’s distant roars, 
So strong, so wild, so free. 

Upon the falls and surfaces  
Of Niagara’s grand facade, 
She adds a touch of sparkling light 
Inducing greater awe. 

Then leaping o’er a hundred miles 
She lands with full force in 
The Mississippi’s running currents 
And rides to the river’s end. 

And jumping out, before the gulf, 
She stretches and she yawns, 
Mar 08

Home Once More

The clicking of keyboards
The murmur of voices
The rustle of paper
The scritching of pencils

Light, shining through windows
Laughter, exchanged between friends
Words, more than one could imagine
Worlds, coming alive in my hands

The library is my safe space
I know it inside and out
No matter which one I enter
I recognize the atmosphere

Of quiet
And peace
And ease
And happiness

I slip into it
As if I am donning a cloak
And smile to myself
For I am home once more
Mar 07

let go

When you look up at the sky
They say you’re supposed to feel small
Well maybe they’re wrong
I feel tall
I feel grand
Standing here
Toes in the sand
With you by my side
Let me take your hand
And I’ll take you high
Up into the sky
We can navigate the atmosphere
We’ll discuss theories, anything you’d like
We could talk about the water, the grass, or that crazy plasma we call fire
But then we’d get tired
I would build you a blanket made of clouds
And we would hunker down for a while
Maybe you’d be lonely
And I’d tell you I’m right here
But you’d say “no”
And call me a coward for not facing my fear
I’d say what fear
But you’d say “you already know”
My greatest fear
Is letting you go

Feb 26

Why I Did It

Because sometimes 
I get this feeling 
in my chest, 
as if my heart is 
in a locked drawer, 
and no one in 
the world has a key. 

Because I've wished 
on every eyelash and 
flickering flame 
that one day 
I might hear 
your voice say my name. 

Because I spend my nights
scribbling half-full poetry 
into faded notebooks
that are too quiet
for me to share any secrets with. 

Because 4 is my lucky number-
I was born on the 4th in '04, 
there are 4 other people in
my family, I write 4 poems
about you every day. 
I think about college every 
4 minutes, 
and there are 4 letters
in my name.

Because my clock is always
off a minute, 
can never get the answer right, 
has slight antisocial issues,
can sometimes be passive aggressive, 
and might
be my soul as an object. 

Because words
Feb 22

Winter Flowers

Feb 21

Unrecognized Significance

Nowadays everybody is looking down at their phones
On their computer 
On their iPad
Or watching television
Nobody really sees all the true significance in this beautiful world 
All it takes is two seconds to look up and look around
I promise you that you will fall in love with what you see
The gorgeous trees and flowers spread across the light green grass of the town park
The woodpecker and its extravagant colors pecking away at the elder oak that has been there for decades
Possibly the love of your life with those dark dreamy brown eyes who is looking for directions
But no, you miss all of these beautiful things because you are too interested with what new trend is here
It's time to put down your life-wasting electronics and take a step into that refreshing  air 
We wake up every morning with exhausted eyes to see how many likes we got on our most recent post
Feb 21
LukeTheDuke's picture


Candle Burn!

The match has set aflame the light.

It is time for you to illuminate the night.

Cast dark shapes onto the wall,

I am short, my shadow’s tall

It is not time to scream or shout.

The wick is halfway out.

Red wax drips and pools.

At the base it shines like jewels.

Much too hot to touch.

It really is too much.

But the candle is burning stable

As it sits here on my table.

And I am starting to reckon

It’ll go out any second.

It keeps burning and I begin to doubt.

Then in an instant

Candle Out.
Feb 20

Catching a Star

Her bright eyes were sunken
Into the deep folds of her skin.
Her silver hair curled about her head
Like a halo.
Her lips were set in a permanent smile,
Her back was hunched like a bow.
Her bony hand reached for the sky,
To catch a star, and put it in her pocket.
Her back straightened as she stood,
Her hair turned from silver to gold.
Her eyes shined brighter
With nothing to hide them.
She was young again,
Running through a field of bliss. 

Feb 20

Accidental Living

We are fighting entropy 
in our sleep.

We fold the blankets halfway over, 
fill our brains with blue light,
fall asleep on our sides. 

I recognize your desperate face
in the moon's craters. 
I find your fingerprints 
on paper bags, my bedroom door knob, oranges: 
sweet smelling with the nectar of cities
and dirty rainwater, pouring down broken pavement
after the first spring storm. 

I wouldn't say I'm looking for you,
just noticing the way traces of you
are sprinkled over my life. 

I might be falling apart,
I might miss something I've never had, 
I might accidentally love everyone who smiles at me,
but I refuse to believe I'm the opposite of chaos. 

Feb 20

Down in the Hollow

The green grass was peeking it's head above the snow. Bird song gently woke the animals in the hollow from a peaceful slumber. The sun was waking too, stretching it's red, orange, yellow, and purple arms across the sky. From a fallen log some ants crawled to meet the dawn. The short whiskered nose of a bobcat poked out of a cave, and if you squinted your eyes you could make out the shadows of it's cubs. The antelope stood tall, silhoutted against the sun. Her baby stumbled into her legs, then got his bearings and stood proud beside her mother. Warm light now bathed the hollow, flooding it with a beautiful glow.
Feb 19


Last night the moon was full,

Lighting up the side streets so the jeep could take a rest.

I sat in the passenger seat, looking at the moon.

Wondering how it was so far away,

But seemed to engulf this planet with its radiance.

Remembering back to when I sat behind the passenger’s seat,

My head hitting the side window as the jeep rolled over miles of potholes

Looking up at the moon, asking why it was chasing me

When in reality, I was chasing the moon.

Remembering back to when my cousin and I sat in the Price Chopper lot.

She told me why she didn’t believe in a god, but instead believed in the man in the moon.

She said that the moon had powers that no others had.

She swore that the moon guided us, showed us the right way.

Remembering back to when I camped in my friends backyard in Georgia, Vermont,
Feb 18

The Mountain

She is the mother.
The mother of all the trees,
Animals and ponds
Around her.
The soft-furred rabbit,
And the sweet-smelling flowers,
Are all her children.
She holds them in her strong, 
Caring arms.
She looks after them,
Nurtures and cares for them.
These are her children,
And she loves them
Even after they are gone.
She knows she may be
The only one who cares.
The only who will save them
When the humans come.