Poetry

The Land of Myth

by Himadri Agarwal

“Where am I?” I wonder, as I stand trapped between truth and lies, fact and fiction, in the no man’s land they call myth. And I move forward past the comics they gave us as children — illustrated depictions by artistic magicians who bring a world to life.   Past the stories on Sunday morning

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Birds

by Eliza Moore

Here is this great multitude of sky. And suddenly little darkened, precarious bodies dart across it, All perfectly grouped together, A little mass of beating wings. Why are they not scattered like stars? There is plenty of room, little birds. Why do you not break away from your crowded chaos, And free yourselves? You have

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Narcissus

by Will Hodgkinson

Slowly, tentatively at first, the world roused itself. The hard merciless frost yielded and the soft heady redolence of damp loam and fresh flowers rose into the pure air. Up above, in the limpid azure sky, the great bright orb of the sun climbed, high and assured, its deep intoxicating warmth spreading across the luxuriant

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Juno

by Casey Robins

She was a name. A single compilation from 26 letters into a single meaning, a single girl. She was a name that survived on the tip of her pen in the loose pages of her triple-ringed journal. The word was her identity. She was a name at the beginning of a sentence. Choked from the

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Forgetting Me

by Anushka Canfield

I have forgotten. Forgotten the best part of me. Inside I can feel it, but I can neither see nor hear what life before me was. What did I do when I was young? What did I smell? Why can’t I remember the first four years of my tiny life? Unknown shapes and dull colors

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Power

by Melita S. Michael

The shores of wisdom touched the seas of power Oh! What a beautiful sight. I set sail on my boat; Humility was its name. My future I knew was bright. I learned the art of courage And with it I fished strength. Everything I felt was delight. Years and years I sailed Day by day

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The Power to Survive

by Sunwrita Dastidar

The misty mountains on a blue morning So close yet so distant, Silent sentinels of a peaceful world — A world that collapsed. They watched their lives crumble As Earth took her revenge — Their horror-struck eyes a witness to Eons destroyed in an instant. The mighty tower cracked and crashed In a ruined river of

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Ostracism

by Casey Robins

She’s an ostrich. She has a long neck so she can see behind big heads. She has a long beak so she can pick at her food when no one’s looking. She has beady eyes so she’ll never break her stare. She has long legs so she can outrun her predator. Her heart is a

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Dangling, Dirty Shoes

by Emily Chaflin

A lonely pair of shoes dangle quietly From the telephone wires in the neighborhood. As I walk below them, I begin to wonder. I imagine a little boy wandering around the streets, With tousled dark brown hair and dirty knees, Barefoot, cold, and all alone just like his shoes. Maybe he threw the dark blue

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A Season of Blossom

by Yashashree Ghatge

Spring, a season When I want a reason To blossom with the trees In a gentle breeze With dancing flowers. Pretty water droplets on a rose Fills the mind with hope The encouraging morning scene Makes the whole day green With great joy and happiness. Yashashree Ghatge