Category: Poetry

In the wood just down canyon road by david Howerton

Finding a near quiet place  is mostly a case of luck,  and when you’ve found it  bring a book  to fill an afternoon.  Drunk finches will doze  away the long afternoon  and squirrels want their share too.  A wind picks up  making you hold each page  being read.  All before the rush home  from work

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The subsequent events of witnessing by shanna wilson

Be free – means not escaping but gathering events until the mind is a place of ruined masterpieces, leading to artwork meadow where paintings lay melting into the wet earth Withstanding, the lack of portals away from confusion. Standing, while the outline of a body houses vision moving I saw a dead body under a

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Jordan’s Song by Clayton Fenrick

I just want to escape this frightened disposition where I watch my belly grow and my dreams shrink, hair falling out as I think more and more realistically, sinking into adulthood uneasily but repeatedly by letting go of the youthful notion that we are all here for a reason. Muted trumpets sound and the drum

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Ghost by Katie Stolte

It started innocently enough.  Everyone stopped calling,  My cubicle was filled with a stranger’s things,  And someone new was tucked in my bed. I didn’t understand. So I melted into the background. I watched as the love of my life moved on,  My mother and father wilted and died. I humoured it.  I tried to

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The Language of Pain by Katie Stolte

Pain is a funny language / and when you’re in it it is all you speak / and when you’re not / you forget it was once your native tongue / it’s a language no one wants to be fluent in / but many are / it makes your orbit small / and some feel

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