sarebear

The homeless childTremblesSitting on the cold stone stepsOf a house where the door is barred.The child who is lostCriesAll alone in a supermarket aisleLooking for a motherWho seems so far ...

I was in preschool, maybe four years old when 9/11 happened. One of my friends' father was killed. I didn't really understand. I remember my mother telling me to be ...

Hi guys, I've edited it now! I'd also just like to let you know that this poem was based on a trip I took this summer to the Canadian Rockies! ...

Just so you know, this is an overreaction to a tough day at school. I am not goth, I do not want to hurt people. This my feelings poured into ...

Have you ridden the bus to infinity?Take care as you mount; it never slowsyou’ll ride along the milky wayas every star in the night sky glows.The universe glimmers beyond its ...

They cower as I stalk pastthe powerthat is mine at last.They mutter hellobut don’t meet my eyesand though I knowthey muffle the cries.The old, the weakthe sick and youngtheir prospects ...

A sliverof silver,a riverof light.Cascadingdown my bedand onto the floor.I search for the source......there!A brilliant orbof diamond firepiercing the nightwith beamsof white.Yet blurrythe outline unc

My grandfather died recently (my mom's father) and I wanted to write something for him. My goal eventually is to get this published, I think my mom would like that. ...

This is for the contest: "A word is stronger than a thousand pictures" but reviews are still welcome. My word was "Microwave" and I couldn't think of a story premise, ...

Spoiler! : I'd just like to clarify. Ear tags are not the things that are on everyone's ears. My friend has these little nubs of skin--a birth defect, that are ...

My brain is running like a sugar hightimes ten plus an espresso,the seatbelt too tight around my hamburger-and-fries-stretch hyperactive consciousnessricochets off thesoft cranial folds of my mindlike

Premeditationcontemplationfrom inside soundproof wallsis safe.nobody can enter video camera hiddeninside the soft folds of cranial tissueno two-way mirrorsor leaky key holes in the skull.a thousand si

Spoiler! : So, as difficult as it is to believe, this is NOT a love poem, but a reaction to another person in my life. Yes, it is based on ...

I’m sick of seeing the missing children box at the bottom of the newspaper. Two brothers, faces age-processed seven years, as if they are still here, as if they haven’t ...

Sarah’s the name but don’t call me that. Call me Purple. Let me shield my identity from this sparkling moment to the next, masked by a nondescript color. Let me ...

A spoken word poem commenting on society's need to label us. Rating for references to more mature subjects. Nothing graphic.