Tag: Poetry

by Paige Alis Dammers I sit and shake my legs filled with caffeine buzzing in veins both red and blue, pumping life inside my skin, suit beating with warmth, and I am, and the world is, cold. Wind breaks, cold glass piercing shards into my legs, sweet warmth bubbling to the surface of my unshaven…

by Nicole Dipre Molly, my sun, you know I’d believe you if you said the world was yours. Glistening sweat indistinguishable from dew drops on raised arm hairs, you lay dazed in a Chelsea playground. Coming down, shivering, arching your spine. Starburst Soaking, staring into curving laced skies in oak trees. Stars or street lights…

by Jessica C. Gray There’s a colony of mice in my skull. They’re really wrecking the place. It started with only one- sad how one makes you prone to more. It’s a wonder I’m not sicker. All the droppings and chewed wires everywhere- even the ceiling sags with urine. Every day I wonder why my…

by Maria Touw Is it not A beautiful summer night? Lay down, Unlock your jaw, And breathe In the dewy grass. Sink Into the dirt; As if you were finally returning To Mother Earth.

by Paige Alis Dammers I sit and shake my legs filled with caffeine buzzing in veins both red and blue, pumping life inside my skin, suit beating with warmth, and I am, and the world is, cold. Wind breaks, cold glass piercing shards into my legs, sweet warmth bubbling to the surface of my unshaven…

by Devon S Roberts I should write about brains with enough chemicals to keep the fridge filled, the begonias alive, that exercise appropriate fear of open spaces. I want to want to write about nuclear families in a big pink house: Juno and their pink son, Finn. Juno makes sandwiches with beets and passion fruit…

by Ashley Martucci the ocean, congested with humans remains a herbivore doesn’t she feel the weight of overpopulation crevassing into her chest stuffed entirely full, another spoonful of fish in your mouth remarkably grotesque. Build me a fire, Mite of the coals! I want to know how to start one without using my hands blue…

by McKenzie Janisz An endless sea of doors ahead, condemned to test them all. Knowing the keys I have won’t work, I travel back and forth, and back and forth, wandering wall to wall. My hope wanes and waxes with the moon, a cyclical force of nature. A mockery, a trick, a cheat— my heart…

by Allison Contreras-Ortiz at 5 a.m., i used to rise, each morning to catch the sun’s first light. stepping from my warm embrace of slumber, i’d open my window wide, welcoming the dawn’s pour. in its brilliance, i’d willingly drown. beneath the daylight’s gentle glow, i stood, pondering, “is this how life should be lived?”…

by Elly Raisch When you exist between bluegrass and plexiglass it is hard not to question the fragility of your existence (Flower over there?) I would sooner fall out of the sky dead than see myself pressed between the panes (It is a flower) Forever a display of achievements unknown to me (Time to rest)