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  • Poetry > Limerick
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    My kid-brovver eaves-dwopped a ton. The werds that he herd sounged fun. He squibbled dem all on Mom's bedwoom wall an now I've got zoap on my tung....
  • Poetry > Sonnet
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    Some stores sell ants in lollipops like sprinkles, but with many legs. Some strange souls also wet their chops for oven-roasted spider eggs. Crickets are sold on counters now, boxed up and filled with nacho-cheese like chips, although I can't see how antennae can be munched with ease. A g...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    She spent weeks in the attic searching for butterflies, not in the air, but sleeping in cans of paint. The days smudged together into a browning mess as she chased unlikely hints- awkward feelers, misshapen speckles. Every picture was fraudulent, every stroke, a mistake, so she cried to...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    The taste of change is bitter and gagging. Sometimes the sound is insistent and nagging. Be ready when its scent is freshly risen, For you will get just one chance to escape your prison....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    All matter comes in three forms, and I am liquid. There are billions of solid people, but I am the only liquid being. I am the lonely liquid human. Name and shape, belongings and friends- They exist only in the world of solidity. I am single and solemn, meaningless and viscous; I am a li...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    My wish floats like a firefly. It pirouettes on secrets free, enveloped by the purple sky. Toward dawn with all the dreams that die and sink into the thunderous sea, my wish floats like a firefly. All I can do is wave goodbye, pretending even I can be enveloped by that purpl...
  • Poetry > Haiku
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    Candles and Wishes are the magick glow of hope. Spring is on His way. The Maiden in White is stirring, dreaming of Him, and her Children wait, as new buds of Life sing to her, Music pure as Flowers in the Snow. Blessed Imbolc, all....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Who would've thought that heaven was glass? But it is! As I see now two pieces before me broken from the sky, settled in your face. It makes me think... How long can this last? How long can I hold on to my heaven? After all, Glass is breakable....
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    I dream of airplanes backpacks and dingy motels music for spare coins the sunsets of other skies. I dream of being alive....
  • Poetry > Haiku
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    Without a complaint, the sun embraces us all. peaceful in his place. Without a regret, those we hold high as heroes sacrifice their all. So what is courage? Being able to see that life’s not about you....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I tried last Sunday to paint how I feel. In a circus or colors, I'd make wild dreams real, but my paper's empty. I painted in white, not sugared pink, sunshine, or the blues of the night. I sketched out Nothing, vacant as Death, in all of the colors of short, sobbing brea...
  • Poetry > Sonnet
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    It started on a bad day; it ended with a drink. He’ll smoke his life to nothing so he never has to think. Her broken pleas to change things, framed by a lover’s care, he washes off with whiskey- she was never really there. He’s trapped in glass-piped vices. She tears herself apar...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    my organs have been Ravaged by a vengeful Immune System. i have cleaned Puddles of my own blood, Alone. needles give me Scars after visits to the Laboratory because my body has been Drowned by tsunamis of Malnourishment. i have left many Footprints across the icy flo...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    Empty audition slip. I’m brave enough to sign in blood, until that moment, when out comes a sonorous Nothing....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Gander gently at me drowning slowly Very much afraid since The Ocean She just sings Longing Salty...
  • Hot Topics > What Matters
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    The boy who sat across from me was trying to eat cookies with his right hand, and finger-paint with his left; he was succeeding maybe half of the time. Between bites of broken Oreos and Crayola Granny Smith Apple Green, he was trying to tell me stories- also only succeeding about half-way. I myself ...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    Every Tuesday was spent training sloppy fingers, straining over keys. All that money, I kept earning over time, yearning to self-please Until, panicky as a rabbit, I was out in darkness, shopping, pouting in the snow. I thought I'd never find it, but that gift, which was just per...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    I keep a whole collection of pictures of my cousin Tara. My favorite one at the moment is the shot of her and my Uncle Michael at the beach. I like it because she looks so small, so breakable in the arms of her brawny father. In my memories, Tara will always be that small; she and both of her parent...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    His eyes were dark and fragile like stained glass windows, twinkling with the radiance of purity and sunlight. It was the same glow that makes little bird eggs grab your attention, and lights them from within like tiny paper lanterns. Not many are able to see such things though. I wanted to catch ...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    Secrets are diseases. You can catch them from the dirty mouths of other people, and they eat through your brain and heart and soul like viruses until you infect another innocent. I have a secret like cancer. You can't catch it no matter how close we get, and I can never stop it from growing and...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    Brownish hair like straw. Greenish eyes like mold. Dark circles like bruises. White skin like paper. Short. Bland. Gaunt. Empty. I only ever catch her eye by accident. I despise her. I really do. I hate her with a blackness that sticks in my throat like push-pins. I see her looking at me sometimes...

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