March 14

The Painter of Autumn by Gursimran Randhawa

The Painter of Autumn

Gursimran Randhawa

 

The autumn has greeted me like an impressionist painting,

Like a kiss of departure on a summer Riviera shore,

Lyrics like the trace of the wheels on the stone road:

With every step forward, a more permanent goodbye.

 

The red and orange that taints the tips of the tallest trees

Melts into the frosting sky,

Seeping downward like fresh raindrops

Painting a final warmth

Before it is then denied:

 

Strokes of colours dancing in the wind,

And with a pirouette, they fall into the eye.

Autumn sunshine clings to the skin

Like honey

As leaves fly by.

 

The procession of winter proceeds

With earth still left to grieve,

So the flowers still lay

In the dull eternity

Of fall disarray.

Category: poetry | LEAVE A COMMENT
March 4

“An Ode to Coffee” by Jane Cassidy

With sugar or cream,

Neither,

Or both,

Its warm kiss is what I need most:

 

Early morning, afternoon,

Guaranteed to lift my mood.

 

Little hearts in creamy white

Wearing its plastic cap on nice and tight.

 

Scrumptious, silky sips

With a warm mug close to my lips.

Category: poetry | LEAVE A COMMENT
March 4

“Rocky Beach” by Quinn Fensterwald

I remember that morning,

Even though I was young.

The graying streaks in her once blond hair,

My auntie and I took in the morning air,

And the taste of a salty breeze resting on my tongue.

 

“Watch your step,” she told me,

Pointed at the rocks.

Large ones, small ones,

They must weigh tons,

So we stepped with care, no shoes or socks.

 

An abundance of crabs scuttled along the sand,

And my auntie and I watched where we stepped,

Avoiding the chance of a claw to the foot,

And a sad look,

But we finally made it to where the water crept.

 

I watched as the tide came in and out,

As if the ocean was teasing the sand.

When I look back on the memory I made,

I close my eyes and wish that I could have stayed

At the beach where the rocks were too big to fit in my hand.

 

And my auntie, who always reminds me of who I am today.

I’ll draw the same beach, where the two of us would stand.

Category: poetry | LEAVE A COMMENT
March 4

“Lies” by Charlotte Edmonds

Faded memories of warm summer days on the beach:

Sunburns, burning sand between our toes, and ocean water chilling us to the bone;

Strolls with the goldens through the towering trees lining the path,

Shady and cool and birdsong from up above,

Huddled around the campfire at dusk,

Songs and stories and laughter and happiness;

Long rides on the boat,

Wind in our hair, ocean spray in our faces, jumping off into the water;

Picnics with ice cold lemonade on the beach,

Warm chocolate muffins in the morning,

Homemade recipes,

Burning marshmallows,

And fresh, juicy watermelon dripping down our chins.

Not a care in the world.

A whole island paradise just for us,

A place to escape each summer, a place to feel loved,

All viewed through false eyes:

Joyful summer memories lost and long gone, the love drained out years ago,

Replaced by false emotion.

The harsh reality of lies and greed and hatefulness concealed by rose-tinted glasses that hid the truth for so long,

Now up in flames.

The burning truth is raw and bare and reveals all that was covered,

Exposing the true colors that were there all along.

Category: poetry | LEAVE A COMMENT
February 24

And, Like by Kirsten Ponticelli

 

I, like, love summer,

Like, when the sun doesn’t set till like, 9, like, what?

And like, I walk through the park like, ten times a day, like too many times, like, it’s a lot,

And like, it’s funny cause, like,

You used to, like, walk with me,

Like, all day and we would, like, sleep at my house, and like, do the same thing the next, like, Day or like, whenever, whatever,

And like, it’s weird cause, like, now you’re not here, and like,

You never told me, like, why?

Like, what did I do?

Like, was it too much?

Was it like, too many, like, laps around the same park?

Was I, like, snoring in my sleep?

Cause like, you could have, like, told me, you know like, I could’ve, like, handled it, like, you just, Like, left, and now, like, I’m here and, like, I don’t, like, know what happened, and like, I see you, Like, everywhere,

Like between the leaves of the park trees, when like, the sun, like, shines through them,

And like, in every school bathroom where we, like, use to meet,

And now like, I can’t even, like, boil water, without like thinking of you,

And like, my mom asks about you, like how are they, like where are they, like what happened, Like what did you do?

And like, I don’t know what to tell her, cause like, she like loved you, and I love you, and like,

 

I like,

I don’t know where you are,

And like,

I’m sorry for whatever I did,

And like,

I miss you,

And like

I just want to know you’re okay,

And like

I walk the same path,

And like

It’s not the same,

And like

I see black cats,

And like

I want to show you them,

And like

I don’t think I’ll ever tell you about them,

And like

I really miss you,

And like

Summer’s not here and

And neither are you,

And like,

Like I wish you told me why.

Category: poetry | LEAVE A COMMENT
February 24

Love Isn’t by Quinn Fensterwald

Love isn’t meant for excuses or lies,
No chances or sorries can ever change my mind.

The pain that inflicted my unsuspecting heart
Came back to me and it’s tearing me apart.

Love isn’t some petty escape from a problem,
It’s something that brings us together, solemn.

How much time will pass until your game is done?
You realize you’re doing what you’ve done all along.

You wait and you wait until you’ve had your fun,
When will it finally be enough?

You said you were sorry, and did it out of love,
But love isn’t worth the pain and stress thereof.

You thought no one loved you, is that what you think?
I loved you, I did, but even that’s gone extinct.

So I ask you once more, what does love mean to you?
Is it worth all the trouble? Put yourself in my shoes.

Love isn’t just another word that we say.
Take a second and think, maybe try to change.

Category: poetry | LEAVE A COMMENT
April 28

“Not Your Average Barbie” by Gillian Deeb

Doll face,

Fixated to one position,

A smile to please the eyes of children.

They never left Never Land.

When you grow up?

They still have that pretty little doll face,

A worn down mask,

The edges starting to fade into a frown.

BACK TO BASICS:

Makeup and silicon is their new body.

Age doesn’t define beauty.

How much money you’re willing to spend does.

Keep training.

Taught how to wave,

Taught how to keep yourself skinny with two fingers,

Taught what body parts to be proud of:

A perfect doll,

Resembling their creator.

Caked on happiness,

Taught to girls in bathrooms

By bullies who say you can’t sit with them

Unless you change everything that makes you

Unique and Gorgeous.

No one blinks an eye when girls look to magazines

To see the figure they must be,

The doll,

Worn down,

Down but still flawless,

Money fixed the edges.

Fix the edges or you’re not perfect.

No stretch marks.

Nor hair anywhere but on your head,

In luscious golden locks.

Learn the rules

Or leave the game.

This is what it means to be a doll face:

Beauty is only found in one place,

And that’s on a doll face.

Doll makers don’t let you see,

That individuality Is the most beautiful

Thing  Anyone Can Be.

 

 

Category: poetry | LEAVE A COMMENT
April 28

If love is an open door… by Anna Jungkeit

If love is an open door, why don’t we know what’s going to happen?

If love is an open door, why can’t we see through to the other side?

If love is an open door, why are there obstacles in the way?

If love is an open door, why are we afraid of walking through?

If love is an open door, why is it so hard to see the door itself?

If love is an open door, why is the door expected to look the same for all people?

If love is an open door, who opened it? Why, when, and for whom did they open it? Or did they forget to close it after they went through?

If love is an open door, does that mean there’s another door that’s closed?

If love is an open door, can we walk through someone else’s door?

If love is an open door, what about windows? And doorways without doors?

If love is an open door, from which way are we supposed to walk through? Do we pass anybody else? Do we stop to think? Do we run straight through? Is there only one door?

If love is an open door, is it supposed to be that simple?

 

Category: poetry | LEAVE A COMMENT
April 28

“Love Isn’t” by Quinn Fensterwald

Love isn’t meant for excuses or lies,

No chances or sorries can ever change my mind.

 

The pain that inflicted my unsuspecting heart

Which came back to me and it’s tearing me apart.

 

Love isn’t some petty escape from a problem,

It’s something that brings us together in solemn.

 

How much time will pass until your game is done?

You realize you’re doing what you’ve done all along.

 

You wait and you wait until you’ve had your fun,

When will it finally be enough?

 

You said you were sorry, and did it out of love,

But love isn’t worth the pain and stress thereof.

 

You thought no one loved you, is that what you think?

I loved you, I did, but even that’s gone extinct.

 

So I ask you once more, what does love mean to you?

Is it worth all the trouble, put yourself in my shoes.

 

Love isn’t just another word that we say,

Take a second and think, maybe try to change.

 

Category: poetry | LEAVE A COMMENT
April 21

“_______?” by Isabelle Bruce

I know our bond’s not one preferred,

Just know that I still care,

I pray to ease a heart disturbed

If ever your thoughts despair.

 

I beseech my tender Lord on high

To spare just one request:

“Smooth the depths where he may lie

And bless my friend with rest.”

 

Though I know I cannot stay by you

As I think of our sunlit skies,

Still, I’ll endlessly pray for you

That its light may return to your eyes.

Category: poetry | LEAVE A COMMENT