We've Built the Beautiful
We've Built the Beautiful
We've built the beautiful places
through disaster and heartbreak
and luck and romance.
From the roots up, we've rocked the rocks,
and moved the Earth.
We've felt it all;
through the pain and hate and the joy and passion.
From the inside out,
we've broken hearts
and drowned our own in love.
We've written it all down,
through the war and chaos,
liberation and freedom.
Pen to ink,
ink to paper,
we've painted words
and cried poems.
We've done it all,
through time and space,
lives and deaths.
We've built and felt and told all the stories,
and we will till the end;
Till our souls are pulled apart,
Till there are no more speaking voices,
And till there's no one left to listen.
The Voice
May 2024
Spring Contest Winners
Congratulations to the winners of our Spring 2024 Writing and Art Contest! Three writers and three visual artists have each been awarded $100, and their outstanding work is published in this issue of ...
To Be A Poem
If to be a sonnet is to be vain, then to be a sonnet is to be a friend. If to be a limerick is to be laughed at, then to be a limerick is to be a child. If to be a haiku is to be unnoticed, then to be...
Sunflower
I'd like to say: You cannot know, unless you live it. You cannot understand, without experience. I do not understand, nor do I know, what it is like to live in a war zone. But I have seen its impact o...
Lullaby
Carried by the songbird’s wings Through forests bright, caverns dim, Flying in the wild wind. Tears have been shed and goodbyes have been said And the light is leaving from your eyes. Dew drops on th...
My Dearest Maria
The house was empty without her. The kitchen was robbed of laughter. Our room had stolen comfort. Nothing was the same. She was my everything. My flower, my Maria; how do you expect a man to live his ...
Words
Words drift by me, leading up to the great night sky. I watch them, all spiraling from an open book. The book has a sort of magic coming from it, an essence. I walk toward the book and hold out my han...
January Loves April
January loves April, her silken white dress with its icy tint of blue sinking into April’s lime green skirt, buds and baby leaves rupturing its stitches, their hair – one long, whitish blonde tippe...
Counting to 17
When I turned 17, it was synonymous with the beginning of the end. It felt like landing in the jaws of a hungry, hungry wolf that would maul me to pieces. I am not one who fears many things, but the ...
Mourning Crow
Crow, past my window, where do you fly to on this beautiful morning? Let us brew some mid-day coffee and nightly tea. Bring me to your nest and hear the early peepers sing with your cousins. Resolutio...
We've Built the Beautiful
We've built the beautiful places through disaster and heartbreak and luck and romance. From the roots up, we've rocked the rocks, and moved the Earth. We've felt it all;through the pain and hate a...
Mauve
Mauve is the lipstick we stole from your mother, smeared sideways across your mouth and all over your Sprite bottle, a clandestine weight in your pocket as we hurried home across the dew-slick grass....
Woodland Grove
And your dark, knotted hair falls, trailing along and settling in the crevice of collarbone, ravine of spine, and depth of heart. Curling like the faintest of...
Before
Before we wake, we are huddled under blankets and dreaming. Before we wake there are others living, breathing, chirping, growing. Before we wake the ocean's waves soak its rocky beaches. Before we ...
The Bottom of a Wishing Well
A penny from a young girl with pigtails and a toothy grin, a dime from a poet in a baseball cap, and a quarter from an elderly lady on her morning stroll. Little snippets of a million people’s stories...
Compose
In the wrestling match, my knees buckled, A staccato burst of defeat, Feeling out of control, angry, a cacophony. But then, ukulele strings under my fingers, Offered a universe I commanded, Composed o...
Red Clover
I dream of him less than I used to – But our story always starts the same. I am small, and his oil-stained hands hold me like the Red Clover, So tightly that I think he’ll never let me go. And he tell...
To Wander Within Your Reach
Every day is new, All because of you. You brought me this world, And were there for every journey, Every step and every chapter, While I learned to live my life Kindly and creatively. You taught me t...
Good Years
Dad is a collector of rainbows, Pictures taken to capture and frame A small wonder performed on the world. He says it’s like saving up luck in our lives. Seven rainbows held in his hand, preciously ...
It's late again
It's later than I thought, half past 11. YouTube K-pop Reactions It's later than I thought, half past 12. Does he love me? Should I change? Why do I do this to myself? It's later than I thought, half...
Pluvia
Time seems to move slower when it rains Cars hesitate before they turn Bird wings lag as raindrops batter their feathers The world seems small and heavy Murky puddles are dumbbells on Earth's surface ...
Cardinal
I saw you today, Dressed in the prettiest red dress to ever be sewn, Wearing the cat eye mascara you always have. Your hair waved to me as you flew past. I swear I saw you wink. I remember You would...