Posts
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vacation
at least one
red white blue starry flag
big or small
billowing from the golden flagpoles that adorn
at least every house
in this country,
proclaiming
nationalism capitalism idiocy.
at least one
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went strawberry picking today
summer means
sun-kissed still-warm
strawberry, red -
not lip gloss but staining my everything
as I eat it slower than snails, slower than I should
while lounging on a rock
river mermaid come to life
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abandoned
red kayak
alone
drifting with the gentle breeze
in the middle of the lake
water droplets
beads
of shining glass
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Last Day of School
I wrote this poem about a month ago, and I recited it at Fifth Grade Night on Wednesday, June 12, and just this morning at my graduation.
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is this what graduation feels like?
Fifth grade in my school is when
one of the kindergartners is your
book buddy,
when we read to them every Friday morning,
and when we leave,
it's when we mourn
the loss of our little friend
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it's an adventure
my best friend
lives up the street from me
today is sunday
at one pm we'll meet up,
go chasing after the tantalizing jingle
that roams our neighborhood every weekend,
announcing cold sugary treats,
Loves
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opening night thoughts
We both have short hair,
We could probably measure the inches,
Down to the centimeters, and the millimeters,
And it'd be the same length.
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The Girl with a Library Voice
The first time I heard her voice I saw a library. An enclosed little nook with a creaking wooden table, the color of the wood changing from honey amber to deep mahogany under the flickering candlelight.
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I, the minotaur
here I sit-
bathed in darkness
trapped beyond reach of the sunI do not touch the poor creatures they cast into my darkness
flesh does not satiate me
so I chew on my rage -
save the world
since you’re not dead yet but you should be
swear you’ll save the world
because you’ll be the first to know and the first
to ever do anything about it.
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Grow(n) Up
I don’t want to grow up
Because I don’t want to pay taxes
Because I want someone to take care of me
Because I’m a little bit scared.
I am grown up
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A Letter for Everyone on YWP – One Last Time
Dear YWP,
The first time I wrote you a letter I was 13.
The second, 15.
I'm 18 now; how time flies, my lovely people.
And this is the last letter.