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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Lights flash on and off but they're always there Those smells of joy and happy punk memories are in my mind as they mix with real life I wonder why I love at all then I see it's beauty a silliness I can't deny....
  • Reviews > Book Reviews
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    What is art? In the Preface of The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde proposes that art is simply one thing: beautiful. This beauty is unlike anything else that exists in the world. Art is creative and touching as well as disturbing and unnerving. Because it is so unique, it must be explored with g...
  • Opinion > Social Issues / Civics
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    What is hate? When does the term 'funny' or 'necessary' become hateful? Who decides when something has gone to far? Is hate bias? Hate rules the world. Destruction, disease, and desolation. No matter what your political or religious views, you can't deny it. Hate is everywhere. War comes f...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    “I just want to be a normal teenager!” I shout. April looks at me, her face cringing in sympathy. “I understand, Callie, I really-” “All I do is skate! I'm so sick of it. There are so many more things I want to do! I want to laugh and love and... just have a boyfriend, for Pete's s...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    Before we can wander any more, I put a hand on Mike's chest and stop everybody. ?Look, you guys. We need to know where we're going to stay with, or where, right now. I'm not waiting any longer. This is getting ridiculous.? ?What the hell do you want us to do, Bridget?? Lina says through closed...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    My journey into a poem of cookie's and sweetie's of honey's and lovey's is that matter of count. It not the ending that I like it is not the beginning either just the way that I take and I would continue on forever if I could but I can not for a bad poem is my bad breath....
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    In my dreams, are my cookie's, girls laughing with tiny eyelashes that float onto my sleeves. These cookie's these sweetie's these honey's aren't the bane they are the bliss. My dear cookie's are my nature are my sweet's are my laughs and my dreams. If only I could tell my day that I...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    Nothing sits in the black spot the hole in the garden where babies cry and children play and teens whisper and adults hate and the dying come to say goodbye Nothing will ever enter the black spot. No color is in the picture not even black and white where dreams are hiding where thought...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    I am color I am shadow I am a knight I am the day I am ultraviolet I am your twin I am your warrior I am light I am seen I am noticed I am used I am worshiped I am fake I am kind of I am real I am consistant I am melody I am sunday I am a nun I am a glow I am odd I am hell I am...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    'Are you serious?!' Light. Movement. Train. Ugh. My eyes are open again. I move away from the window on my right and sluggishly look over at Pippin. Except, he's not next to me anymore. In his aisle seat is Carmen. She's leaning over a drawing, wincing at it a little. Her nose wrinkles ...
  • Hot Topics > Health
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    In ages eleven through seventeen, eating disorders claim more than 150,000 lives per year (Beauregard). Sue-Ellen Beauregard isn't the only one who's stated that. Researchers everywhere are discovering the horrifying reality: Eating disorders aren't a joke. In the past, it's been thought that eat...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    Through hope black smoke rises and juicy apples fall. The little raven nudges my ear as gathering stars slide into place. Bearded ideas swim in clouds of sunny laughs that are followed by angry streaks. Though nothing solves the wonder. Through dream I see spiraling stairs and they ste...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    Partly falling, The fascination turning into praise. When my fresh lonely loves, Have once again fallen upwards and for that good part, Into liars they are when all have been stopped....
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    The corrupt black whales lounging beneath the glowing ocean Waiting silently Whispering in hushed wind. The schools of stinky, metallic fish swim beside in utter shame Ignorant of the sly spells Living in lies. The corrupt black whales moving too slow to see Wondering when Watchin...
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    Photo > Photographs
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