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  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    I open the glass doors, striding directly toward the paintings by Blinn Jacobs and Will Lustenader. My eyes are riveted by those haphazard blocks of color; in one of Lustenader’s paintings, jaunty white lines seem to dance with a jagged black column. My eyes trace over the elements, but I could ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    i am a beam of sunshine enormous without taking up space, magnanimous without giving a thing simply there, a shower of shimmery gold a silken blanket cascading down on the trees, the dull greens and weary browns bloom, unfurling their petals, they twinkle like jewels. I can illuminate t...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    It is 11 am and the world looks like it has gone to sleep The pittering rain sings a gentle lullaby; soft waves of mist envelop oak trees in a silken blanket. I step outside my slumbering house, Opening my bright purple umbrella the white polka dots shine against the sombre forest of olive...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Gossamer silks rustle softly, dancing away with the mischievous breeze silk and velvet ribbons flutter like butterflies, pointed shoes – fly away to neverland, darling. I see you when you arrive....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    The gauzy curtains shine with golden light as the sun dances through our silhouettes, but it never quite reaches his face. His arms are crossed tightly into an oversized coat with greasy stains, his sharp chin juts forward – he is all sharp angles and clean lines. Dark red circles adorn...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    The bus rolls along under a bridge, and I remember tumbling down the slide in the neighborhood playground. Rusted green, the bright plastic slide curved and dipped precariously. It had a covering on top, blocking out the sun. I would cry as my body was jostled from side to side. I was as fa...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Bubbles – so delicate, girls dance within these spheres, a swish of skirts, a kaleidoscope of pink blue purple, colors bleeding on the pristine surface. They would like to know each other, learn why one bubble is a luscious pink, another a mysterious violet Every time their bubbles coll...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    The cuff of my light winter jacket brushes teasingly against my hand the rich golden brown paste, arranged in a henna pattern, feels cool against my skin But the liquid paste squishes sickeningly, collapsing under the starchy cuff, and just like that, a part of the henna is irreversibly erase...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I would send you a present, if not for the pigeon with chrome tipped feathers that could not be tamed with a few keys. But if I were, the wind would sing, the leaves would dance, as the chrome tenderly cradles its treasured package. A mobile of colors twirls with the sky, spinning even when...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    A glutton I am, drifting upwards vainly, up against the pale blue tarp, seeking the iridescent pearls and sapphires that wait through the tumultuous storms skirts that wink, with hints of blue and pink, waves that crash during a storm, toppling like dominoes, one over the other. I am seeking...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    The arch of lashes, closed eyes, as you lift a foot into the air - the air? What is it, really? The path that you have ambled on, every day after school through slippery ice and blooming flowers, through mountains of firey leaves, is not so familiar anymore. Is your foot venturing on the path,...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    A lump of clay has been plopped down on the dusty old pottery wheel. It's a smooth red-brown twinkling with the secrets of a sly fox, but still managing to be pure. The wheel creaks as it starts to spin inconsistently, dragging the clay along through the bumpy and the calm, changing it ...

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