life

Everything Went Dark

Submitted by Riah on Tue, 04/23/2013 - 03:21

With one look, one breath, one faltering step
Everything went dark
With one voice, one cry, one moment in time
Everything became nothing
With one word, one touch, one last glance
Everything fell apart

With one prayer, one plea, one desperate hope
We struggle to believe
With one call, one word, one sorrow-filled voice
All hope is broken
With one scream, one moan, one terrorized pain
My heart is rent
With one gasp, one sob, one-hundred hot tears
The night is sleepless

She and the Flame

Submitted by E on Tue, 04/16/2013 - 05:03

1. No More Drama

Reflecting back, it seems so silly
All of the whining and the drama
It leaves an ache of embarrassment in my chest
But then I reflect further
Then I reflect deeper
And then I recall all the things that I felt.

2. The Flame

Let the flames lick the sky
Faces reflected, going down into the embers
It’s only certain things that set my heart on fire
Just before gets choked out by the smoke

3. The Sky is Falling

Early Morning

Submitted by Riah on Sun, 04/14/2013 - 17:47

Dedicated to Emilie Parker, who was killed in the school shooting in Newton, Connecticut, on December 14th, 2012.

Early morning
Sunrise smile
I twirl her around
She’s such a big girl now
Already six years old
But my girl Emilie, she’ll always be
Daddy’s little girl to me

Early morning
Off to school
She turns and she smiles
Oh how I love that girl
My little angel, walking away
Never could I’ve guessed
That this would be her last day

Poems by my cousin.

Submitted by Madeline on Sat, 04/13/2013 - 23:52
PLEASE see notes before reading the poems. They were written by my wonderful, uber-talented eight-year-old cousin, who is wise beyond her years. She would love to hear people's comments and encouragement. The notes explain everything a bit more. __________________________

Strange People call me strange Just because I’m not tall People call me strange ‘Cause I don’t have good posture People call me strange ‘Cause I get a B+ People still call me strange I’m in a nursing home All I do is sit around There’s no reason to call me strange anymore Goodbye

Mirror, Mirror and other poems

Submitted by little woman on Sat, 04/13/2013 - 22:56

I: Mirror, Mirror
Staring at this glassy slate
searching for hidden truths
defining myself by what I see
one moment I'm lovely
beautiful
beyond any compare
the next I'm ugly
my faults plain to see
I'm a vain creature
I'm trying to stop
judging myself
by the reflection
wipe clear the slate
love myself
as unique
I've heard that I'm beautiful
I disagree
but I care too deeply
what you might see
what looks back
from that cold glassy slate
staring

Resurrect

Submitted by Anna on Fri, 03/29/2013 - 04:11

“He hasn’t woken. Please, Lord, he still hasn’t woken.”
Martha watched her sister lace long, taut fingers together and press them to her lips. To Martha, it seemed unreal. Between the two, her sister had always been serene. Now her throat constricted visibly as if she was choking. And Martha, the worrywart, laid her hand on her sister’s arm. Goosebumps covered her coffee-colored skin. “Have you called Joshua?”
{{“Have you called Joshua?” Martha called from the bathroom, wringing her black hair out in front of the mirror.
“Yep, just did! He said he’s on his way.”

Cobwebs

Submitted by E on Tue, 03/19/2013 - 05:02

1. When Tomorrow Ends
I understand, I think
Why it seems like you can’t see
I guess I’m just wondering
When the goodbyes stop
And when tomorrow ends

2. Just a Little Closer
I see you closing the space between us
Your smile close to my own
You’re close enough that I could
Run my hand along your lips
I sense mowed grass
And a feeling of apprehension
What does this truly mean?

Brought Back: Love (as described by four girls)

Submitted by Madeline on Tue, 03/12/2013 - 15:14

Feel like venturing to the notes at the bottom of the page before you read this? Please do!

__________________________

Angry Love

Choleric

Journal,

I hate you. I hate the way you make me feel about myself. When I flip through the pages the entries with all the lies pop out at me. It’s amazing how long it can take to write five sentences full of half-truths. It’s much harder to dress things up than it is to tell it like it is--raw, painful, and ugly.

Charlotte Green: pt 1

Submitted by Kassady on Sun, 03/10/2013 - 19:00

PartⅠ

Dear Nathaniel,
The rain falls in large plump drops over here, which splatter everywhere and on everything. It is a miracle, for the garden sorely needed a spot of rain. It has been shockingly dry here this summer, and I have been so sick of mother’s dull company.
Poor thing, doesn't know she’s a complete and utter bore.
Must not keep you.
Miss you and wish to see you in a fortnight.
Sincerely yours,
Charlotte.

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