Monday, July 27, 2009

by Arlon

Cat-Trapped - by Arlon

He's strolling round the pool
on freaky silent feet,
little slitted eyes,
a sneaky flailing tail,

and I back into the corner
almost in the scratching branches,
no, don't see me,
just go by me,

but he bee-lines for me,
tail up like a spraying skunk,
and sits beside the drips
from the edge of my shorts,

content to stay awhile.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

by Summer

Little Sister - by Summer

"Bike with your sister round the block,"
and so we did,
but more brake
than bike
because Katie the Kollector
had to stop at every leaf
and stick
and feather
and place them carefully
in her front basket.

"What're you
doing?" I demanded
every other stop,
maybe in a not-so-nice way.

"You'll see," she said happily.

And when we got home
she set up shop.
Carefully cut a piece of grape vine
with her snips,
got out twine,
a glass of water,
and sat there an hour,

"Ta-dah!" she said.

A Summer Wreath, she said.

"For my big sister," she said,
"who learned me biking."

All sniffling,
I hugged her,
and my wreath hangs
right next to the Jonas Brothers
on my bedroom wall.

Monday, July 13, 2009

by Vanessa

Reaching for Tea - by Vanessa

In the cool and curling
stretching hour of morning,
modern slips of
shape objects,
sharp in quiet,
soft in distance,
and I am yawning
no one else would ever wake
and stir this
slice of perfect.

Sunday, July 5, 2009

by Rocco

Escape to Planet Zoip - by Rocco

And the chlorophilic pods shall encapsulate us,
screen us from the
ultraphenolic rays of the binary stars,

White Permeation Fibers emitting our waste and
plumbing the atmosphere
for particles useful to our thrivation,

Ray Barbatons thrusting beyond the stratosphere
to intercept intruders
with weapons of might.

Although, of course,
our mission is to start life
in peace.

Despite the massive arsenal.