The Greatest Writer Alive, The Book. Plus, A Special Giveaway
By now you’ve seen and read Dallas Clayton’s recurring column The Greatest Writer Alive on our website. Building upon it, we’re happy to announce that Dallas has just released a new collection of poetry and illustration work in print. Boasting over 100 pages, it’s a great book to pick up at any time of the day. To celebrate the release of the book, we’ve put together a fun giveaway with Dallas that will net you a signed copy of The Greatest Writer Alive, plus an original drawing. The scoop is below:
To become eligible to win the signed book and original drawing by Dallas Clayton, go into the comments section and write some words (a short poem, perhaps?) about an awkward moment in your teenage years. On December 22nd, we’ll pick our favorite and to top it off Dallas will make a drawing to accompany your words. Simple, and awesome. You have until Wednesday 11:59pm to enter, so go for it!
For those who are shy, or lazy, or indifferent The Greatest Writer Alive is available here
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Bobby
I thought,
One day,
That I would be like everyone else.
So firmly,
Trembling inside,
I stepped onto the soccer field.
Can I play?
I follow the ball,
I lose interest completely.
I found,
However,
My ex-bestfriend (we had grown apart over time…)
We talked,
We laughed,
In the middle of the soccer field.
Until,
Of course,
Some jackass soccer enthusiast screamed at us to get off the damn field if we weren’t going to play soccer.
Awkward, but
Laughing (at him),
We flee the scene together.
Dec 17th, 2011
Marianne
A boy that I liked
Had a beautiful bike
With a cart on the back made of wood
It had headlights and tail-lights
Made of duct tape and flashlights
And he drove us as fast as he could
But I lost track of time
And had to be home by nine
And he said “We’ll do this my way”
So we took his shortcut
And did I don’t know what
But somehow ended up on the highway
Dec 17th, 2011
Heather
He asked me if I was drunk.
Really, it was just my first day on Heelys.
Dec 17th, 2011
Tiia
Girl meets Guy
Girl likes Guy
Girl tells Guy
Guy tells girl he’s gay.
Dec 17th, 2011
Michael Hewitt
PLANET SEX
I had sex the other day. I have always been a big fan of sex however this was something else. I slept the night at Lizzy’s, my girlfriends. This probably doesn’t mean a lot to anyone reading this, but I just like to add that in for my own recollection.
I woke up, startled at 6:30 am from my phones alarm screaming at me. In a sleepy daze I jostled to look at Lizzy my partner next to me thinking, ‘Why the fuck did you put the alarm on you cunt?’, but instead I said, ‘Good morning baby’. It was still darkish as she stumbled to the bathroom to shower in preperation for a long day of looking good as a part time model.
While she was bathing, disgruntled about being awake before 10 o’clock I contemplated why I am not I as happy as my penis. Like most men, able, every morning I am greeted by throbbing erection that usually restricts my sleeping positions and ruins my general wanting to get back to sleep mood. Alas I drifted back to sleep.
Only to be again woken a few moments later. The sun now doused the room in a yellow glow, with the curtains acting like a translucent lamp shade. The wind penetrating through, with the shadows of the trees outside dancing like ballerinas across the lit room. This was not the reason why I woke up.
I would like to think that it was my animalistic sexual drive that self consciously picked up on that fact that there was a wet naked woman toweling her self next to me. Perhaps more likely it was the sound of the bedroom door closing.
I spied on her while she absorbed every droplet of water off her body. Starting at her toned slender lower legs all over her shins and calf the towel dried. She jumped from there to her back bending down briefly noggying her beachy blonde hair with the cloth, exposing her well shaped arse with glimpses of her waxed hairless pussy. Her wet hair clinging around her nipples and chest. Completing the daily process by drying her perky breasts, descending to her belly and finnally to her inner thigh. Using her leg on the bed to stablise her as she padded away water from between her legs.
To someone, with an erection, watching a fit disgustingly attractive naked female airbrushed with yellow aurora towel down and to describe it as tortuous is a fucking understatement. There was an urge deep down inside me, growing. I don’t know what precisely it was. I do not suppose it was just hormones or my erection – I imagine everyone experiences it. It yanks you, wrenches at all your physical emotions. A primitive instinct evovled over thousands and thousands of years culminating in this one moment, recklessly driving me to just… fuck.
What happened next was utter sexual magnetism. The bonding of two opposite forces with the same motivation.
The time was 7:18am. I know that because she had a clock on her wall and I was dreading each minute before I had to drive her to work at 7:25am.
She noticed me ogling her through the mirror. She turned around to confront me. Standing there stark naked, glowing, she glared at me with such a posture as too say, ‘I know you want to fuck me’.
Spotting my erection she pulled back the blinding white sheets that my penis was turning into a tent. She crawled on my body and straddled my hips with her legs. Her pussy illuminated and pink exposed from the racing light of the sun that painted her figure, hovering an inch above my large, engorged, slightly veiny, cock. I could tell her pussy was wet. I could see it in her eyes. She was an animal like me.
She pulled back my foreskin and shifted the helmet of my cock up to meet her clit. Both erect, she rubbed them together as if they were long lost friends finally embracing after a long time apart. Sparks and tingles of sensation overpowered our most intimate. Pleasure vibrations took hostage our bodies as she simotaneously massaged these most sensitive areas. The ascent of tension was building to a level of uncomfortability. It was no longer a need, it was a necessity. ’We have five minutes’, Lizzy ordering.
Wrestling me between her tight swollen flaps. The bottom of her arse cheeks softly bouncing as she positioned herself. She began oscillating her hips grinding her clit tenderly on my trimmed pubic hair. She the mixing bowl and I, the egg beater… quite literally. her rotations, thrusts and moans increasing in veracity and violence. Her bubbly sunny demeanor was tranforming with her sexual ambitions. Her face was painted with a blend of concetration and pain. This was the mask of pleasure as she viciously rocked on me hunting her orgasm.
I was in a world different to the one I normally reside. I was outside my mind, there was not one thought that crossed my mind. Lost, in a adventure land of pleasure, instincts and emotion. Maybe it was the fact we had a time limit or maybe that her mother was still down stairs and thrill of getting caught – whatever it was it was exciting. Just two lumpy figures bashing against each other on single bed…
In a frightening and unexpected moment her mum broke into the room looking for her wallet. Startled by what she saw she froze, as did we. As to extinguish the bold awkwardness her mother thought it the best option to remove all her clothes and eagerly join us. Just like that and the mood was restored as she clammered into bed and started to fondle my testicles whilst lovely caressing the arse of her daughter in a manner that could only be described as motherly love… To set the record straight, that last part did not happen it was for satrical purposes only.
Her mother didn’t come in. Five Minutes passed as did the gripping nails, scrunched faces, shivering legs, hard of breath and explosions of sensations. The feeling of utter relaxtion and comfort, was this the feeling of love? Or is my mind playing tricks on me. I exited that sex fantasy world. Dazed, tired and now slightly stickier. Forced to slave in the quote unquote ‘real world’ which is ultimately full of boring people, jobs and pointless stress only to die many years later.
Thank you for sex.
Dec 17th, 2011
johny rocca
Obama
you caused a drama
every time i turned on the TV
bloody Panorama!
Dec 17th, 2011
Lee Crutchley
Poems can be about anything
So I’m writing this one about tissue
I could rhyme that with something cliched now
Something like
Oh, how I miss you
But as well as being about anything
I’m told poems don’t even need to rhyme
Which is good
Because I don’t miss you anyway
Bitch
Dec 17th, 2011
Mariam
AP Classes
i don’t know how to accomplish
much
if i have access to
erasers.
Dec 17th, 2011
Suky Akers
Thanks Are To My Little Sis For This
“Hello, my pretty”
said the dwarf in the city,
“I’ll protect you from any harm”
For he loved his little ant;
his friend, his companion,
and held him in his palm.
Dec 17th, 2011
Bella
I was young[er]
We didn’t really know those boys
My sisters and I
But they asked to show us the woods
Out back behind their house
We ran, barefoot through the big trees
I do not think you have seen big trees
Till you run though a forest in Washington
And there were little white flowers
All over
They climbed trees like monkeys
My sisters too
But I stayed on the ground
Looking at the white flowers
I never liked heights
It was when we ran back
Everyone dashing in different directions
I got lost
But one found me
He wanted to make me ride on his shoulders
I refused
I assured him that was too high too
But I regretted that
When we got to the hill
Large, and all mud
Climbing up that was worse than the trees
But I rolled up my jeans
And one took my hands
The other attempted to help
Slight miscalculation
Just a small one
And I ended up with mud on my behind
Sitting at the bottom of the hill
There faces were best
The monkey boys and my sisters
Biting their lips, rubbing the backs of their necks
Nervously
Till I laughed
And laughed and laughed
I was young[er]
Things weren’t so bad
Even with mud painted on the butt of my jeans
And white flowers everywhere
But everything’s better when you’re young[er]
Even with boys you don’t know
Dec 17th, 2011
Karly
He sat behind me in 4th period each afternoon
Biology is hard, but it would be okay
Even if he was never very nice to me
I could just laugh and get though the day
“Your laugh is so weird!”
He would hiss at me
And I would fall quiet
Scared of a “kick me” sign for all to see
Again.
But now I like my laugh
It is different from the others’
It’s gone so many places
Not seen by those others
So I’ve laughed through England
And I’ve laughed in France
That mean boy from Biology?
He still frowns through his daily dance
Dec 17th, 2011
Myra
I had to buy those shoes at once
I thought that I had found a bunce
I stepped on some poop
And spilled lentil soup
Now I’ll never become Mrs. Munce
Dec 17th, 2011
Alexander Francois
i used to experiment
wholeheartedly with
drugs.
when i was 19 i ran a coffee shop with a friend of mine
i had long, long hair, like a birdsnest
that in retrospect,
attracted more men than
women
i didn’t make much money there
so i stole coffeebeans, friends paid with
lines of cocaine.(this is all true bytheway)
then i met paul herber(realname)
an elementary school music teacher who,
was a nice married man
he gave us a little work doing some website editing
and one day, while working at the elementary school he asked a
question
that was
simple enough.
“do you party?”
“yes”
“do you like Tina”
“huh”
“Meth.” “i’ve never tried it.” “you want to?” “sure”
and in the middle of parent teacher conferences at Dublin Elementary in suburban Detroit, i tried meth for the first time.
literally, this all really happened.
he pulled out a tiny bag of crystalline methamphetamine and asked, as he dipped a key into the tiny pouch,
“do you want to go to Florida with me?”
“i’ve got school.”
Into the bloodstream.
then i get a phonecall,
its a friend of mine and i tell him what just happened.
“He’s gay man, watch out,” said my now dead friend Dennis.
“No way man! he’s married, he just likes to party.” I say, sped up, cropping photographs of the Dublin Elementary 5th grade choir.
“whatever man, you’re an idiot” Dennis says.
Paul then suggests, “if you have to piss, piss in the sink.” as he unbuttons his pants and proceeds to do what he told me to do. In the elementary school music room.
He grins, “i love these kids”
I continue to crop photographs and paste them onto the school’s website. sweating, eyes wide as ever. He introduces me to some of the teachers.
He asks a 4th grade teacher for a joint. She smiles, leaves for a minute and comes back with one.
“I love her.” Paul says.
“She seems nice.”
Now this goes on for quite a while. Me in the middle of the classroom on a laptop while every hour on the hour a class of 30 or so students enters, sings, and leaves. Each time Paul plays the piano and belts out lyrics that the kids wholeheartedly lap up and sing themselves.
He asked me if i knew the lyrics to “Swing Low Sweet Chariot”
I do, and i sing them with the class.
After school he buys me a smoothie tells me that he gets horny on Tina, and drops me off home.
I was 200 hundred dollars richer.
I watched King Kong that night and cried.
Dec 17th, 2011
Allie
Trying so desperately just to fit in
Changed my hair, my clothes, my shoes
Trying so desperately just to fit in
Only got me singing the blues
Didn’t realize til years later,
The only thing I had to do
Was be my awesome weird awkward self
And the same goes for you
Don’t rely on what others think
Even if you kinda stink
You, my dear, are truly amazing
Oh, and don’t forget to blink!
Dec 17th, 2011
Adeline
there once was a boy called jason
who after my love was chasin
he had red hair
it wasn’t quite fair
that freckly boy called jason
Dec 17th, 2011
ed
Walking down the hallway every morning with a big coffee in my hands
I really had to fight myself from throwing it in someones face random. Although I never got around to it I still remember fighting my arms against attacking teenage faces with scolding hot coffee.
Dec 17th, 2011
adventurer!
The number 1 is rather greedy, and self-absorbed, one might propose.
The number 2 is sanctioned well and tends to keep his great repose.
The number 3 a gluttonous cow, bellies engorged but still not full.
The number 4 a sturdy sail – leeward, windward, stable hull.
The number 5 is slick and sly, slithering like the scarlet snake.
The number 6 a modest friend, to four and five and seven and eight.
The number 7 stands statuesque – but evermore acute with sin.
The number 8 like a man of snow, missing a scarf and charcoal grin.
The number 9 with the bloated ego, a head so large he can hardly stand.
The number 0 the best carousel, going round and round and never ends.
Dec 17th, 2011
Johanna Rese
Summer 1997:
My first journey to the US. I’m 15 years old and travelling with my parents. We enter a hotel lobby. A stranger comes to me and starts talking. For me, he is some kind of american stereotype. He must be round about 50 years, 330 pounds, he wears an aloha shirt. He tells me, that he comes from Arkansas – like Bill Clinton. He’s so gentil and smiles all over his face when he noticed that I am from Europe. Then he tooks his wallet and gives me a two-dollar-note. “something special for a special young redhaired girl.”
Quiet later I noticed how rarely these notes and these sorts of encounters are. I still got the two-dollar-note (and my memory of the big guy from Arkansas.)
Dec 17th, 2011
Heather Rutkowski
Chillin’ with my girls under the
Stairway to homeroom,
Spending life’s extra minutes
Basking in the light of each other’s smiles,
And I’m telling this great story
About my boyfriend and his dog
When they go silent.
Seven girls all motionless between
A morning coffee and our first classes—
Have you ever heard of such a thing?
So, my voice dies down quickly
And I turn around, a question on my
Over eager face, to find
Our principal standing silent,
a box of Dunkin’ D’s in his hands.
“Do you want them?” he asks.
So we are silent.
Seven girls all shocked between
A tempting box of Boston cremes
And, wait YOU are the principal!
Dec 17th, 2011
Faith Morris
Begin:
The shuffling of feet.
The checking of the time (it is 8:00, 8:01, 8:01:30)
The wring of the ring-less hands.
The darting eyes, cast low
The hope I’ll get asked.
And then:
The outstretched hand,
(My palm, so damp)
The dance floor, scratched.
The air, taut with anticipation.
The startled instruments cry and clash,
slowly get used to themselves, singing.
Queue:
The moving bodies,
warming up, bumping up
murmured apologies, sheepish grins.
The beat beat beat.
The twirls and the dips and
the spins and the slips
But when the music stops
I’m left alone again.
Dec 17th, 2011
Koonuy
edit…
Never was there a more awkward moment,
when I said good bye to my father as
he dropped me off for school when we
were having a car repaired. I turned
towards him as he did the same and and we
ended up kissing. We always made sure
to have enough drivable cars since then.
Dec 17th, 2011
Tori
Gym class.
A course to be reckoned with.
Cow bones jutted out from her hips and a skeletal whip lined her spine;
Puberty hadn’t quite finished her off yet.
She jogged with an awkward-forward-facing-stumble,
And never failed to miss a goal, a point, a basket.
Large, uncoordinated thumbs filled his shoes and door knobs replaced his knees;
Puberty laughed upon his graceless figure.
He loped around the indoor track with sagging confidence,
And never lost a chance to fantasize about her swinging behind.
Health class ensued in a matter of months.
Safe sex? Sign me up!
Thanks to merciless praying and vigilant gods,
The boy’s back slumped mere inches from the girl’s hopes.
Daily, a shy smile threw itself off the cliff of her face,
treading in the pool of his lap.
Somehow, through disgrace and fumbling comments on Myspace,
The relationship came to fruition.
That
Is high school romance.
Dec 17th, 2011
ARTHUR
yesterday I went to the beach;
my friend
made me
a bracelet
out of
seaweed.
today I took a shower;
my friend’s
bracelet
made of
seaweed
is gone.
Dec 18th, 2011
AJ
I couldn’t trace my steps back
even if I had some tracing paper,
a pencil,
or a map.
I couldn’t begin to tell you
about the sinking,
crushing,
feeling I get.
The times when I just drew
hearts into the margins,
headings,
I could never concentrate.
School made me a fool
a machine,
afraid,
to love.
Dec 18th, 2011
pat
there is a mirror in my basement
it is as big as I am
so I see myself
all of who I am
and i thank it for this
I see myself aging before my eyes
one second at a time
as the boy in front of me becomes a man
posing in front of his reflection
imagining his dreams around him
and i express my gratitude
and sometimes
I forget this so called man I am
and like the days of childhood
dance and sing in front of this mirror
not only to see myself
but to watch out for parents and curious brothers
wondering who is making all the ruckus
and I will pretend I never made a sound
I thank the mirror for this too
Dec 18th, 2011
Joel
When I was shorter
I had a free quarter
before history
then I experienced a mystery
I was heading out
just to walk about
I opened the door
and there stood the girl I adored
My legs started to totter
She looked at me and said “you look like Harry Potter”
then she passed me before I had time to answer
But it felt like I just found out a drug that could care cancer
But this is not my theme song
and the character I played was totally wrong
I saw her later kiss a boy
he looked just like Draco Mallfoy
Dec 18th, 2011
iulia
Young heart
All I know about this world
Is oh, so little
I know the sun is up
And the sea is blue
I saw the birds and how they flew
And all of this is beauty, as I reckon
But all that’s beauty breaks my heart.
The salty sea with waves that roar
The leaves that fall
The way my mother says my name
Or how you feel when you’re first picked to play the game
The game of life is all it takes to snap my heart in two.
A gentle blow
The smell of tulips in the air
Or someone’s hand that strokes my hair
It’s all it takes for it to crumble
Like sugar in a pan.
The starry night that looks upon me
Lying on my back and drinking tea
The smell of chocolate cookies
The tiny tongues of tiny puppies
It’s all it takes.
My heart is made of glass, I guess
It breaks so easily
No stitches and no glue
Can make it back as new
But that’s just fine, you see
‘Cause lately it just came to me:
My heart’s not only glass
It also has a core that’s made of steel
And it can take the pain and beauty as they come
So thank you, heart, for being warm
And strong
And taking me head-first into the storm
I pick you up and dust you off
And off we go!
And for the end,
I thank you, world,
For giving me a heart to break.
Dec 18th, 2011
Lucas
Death tells me im his prodigal son.
And now im not scared anymore.
Dec 18th, 2011
Alex L
you ought not cheat on a high school girlfriend,
with a girl whom you barely know
you may end up in bed
with her
and she may
fart gently,
against your leg
like tootie did with me.
(itwasn’tokay)
Dec 18th, 2011
sam
during a pep rally i fell off of a bleacher.
i farted swinging at a pinata.
at least three premature ejaculations.
every other ejaculation barely mature.
my head to body ratio.
my desire to give other boys fellatio.
fucking my sock.
understanding my cock.
driving a car the color of shit
and trying to be cool about it.
being a dick to a girl i liked,realizing it worked,
and doing it again.
having to concede normalcy
to those jesus freaks and sheeps,
fuck high school.
Dec 19th, 2011
Rachel Weeks
Freshman
It would be a freshman,
on the first day of school,
To wait in line for a
single slice
of cheese pizza.
And to pay in quarters.
(That’s all my mom had.)
And to turn back to my table,
And tumble and fall,
And watch my pizza
dive
into the gaping mouth of
that senior’s purse,
right between her
chemistry and Spanish
notebooks.
And to panic and dive
to that pizza’s side
and try to save it from it’s
leather Coach grave.
And to be caught
By that senior,
red-handed, red-faced,
with the slice in my fist,
and my fist in her handbag.
Dec 19th, 2011
Erin
I tweeted, blogged, reblogged, & trended.
Posted, reposted,
deleted & friended.
I liked, tagged, followed, & accepted.
Ignored, denied, & then I commented.
I skyped, then I typed
Everything is alright.
Signed out, logged off, & said “that’s it for a night”
I shared I was there,
Then quoted a quote.
Thought about it for hours and then I wrote…
The only thing I wanted to do,
was to say in person,
I-Love-U!
Dec 19th, 2011
S. Slade
Bad Timing
I’m sorry we met
under circumstances
and in environments
we were both eager
to flee.
I just hope
that I’ll know you
when we’re older
and where we want to be.
Dec 19th, 2011
Charly Mae
There’s so many people with less things than us
who cant travel by train or go to work on a bus
no taps, no clean water, not much food…..not even kippers
not many friends and no bedroom slippers
and sometmes I look at all that I’ve got,my toys and my friends
oh yes I’ve got a lot
so I think that it’s nice just once in a while
to give someone a hug and to just make them smile.
Tell someone a joke or write someone a letter
just to know that you care makes them feel better
so when you look around and see what you’ve got
think of the people who’ve got not a lot .
Dec 19th, 2011
Briseida
Little poem made from paper, made from chewed up gum and senior spring
Gave you two pigtails, hazel eyes, and chalk teeth
Notebook poem made in notebook not in textbook, made you in a patio, made you quarter to ten
Finished you at noon and made you wait till tomorrow, gave you no breakfast, then gave you away
And now my mouth is looking for a chewed up pen and the ink stained letters scribbled on a piece of paper where one dreamy soccer player mixes his math and home ec. notes together ‘cause he’s pretty careless like that
So now I’m real mad but I don’t show it so my little curls cut right into my weak smile because it’s too thin and I play at scratching wrong equations on the chalkboard
Then the school bell rings from the back of my tongue and I wake to find you gone and in the dark I sit calling out your name, which I forgot hoping that someday you might laugh off my bad
Dec 19th, 2011
C. Arlow
Once a little chickadee,
Sat and said “a chick like me,
Needs a little kiss or three,
Underneath the Christmas tree”
So there, little chickadee,
Pretty little chickadee,
Come and take a walk with me
Over by the Christmas tree
Dec 19th, 2011
Alissa
Out in the bog in the cricketty night
lived a frog who needed a night light
lucky for him they flew all around
occasionally landing beside him on the ground.
One day while he watched the lightning bugs
he heard his tummy growl and he shrugged
he needed a snack and flies were his favorite
so maybe he would pick a glowing one and bait it.
He has a long tongue that he uses to catch
a delicious lightning bug from the batch.
He caught it, he did and swallowed it whole
then licked his lips, but he still wasn’t full.
So he thought to himself, mmm delicious
I want to eat more, but I don’t want to be vicious
but I am a frog and this is what I do
floating around eating a bug or two.
So out went his tongue
he slurped up another one
and he just couldn’t stop
he ate until his stomach could pop.
But no it didn’t pop
it did something else
something no other frog could have felt
with a little hiccup he looked at himself
and there he was glowing in the dark
reflecting off the pond in the park.
The fireflies laughed and the silly sight
a little frog who could light up the night.
Dec 19th, 2011
Hallie
Hi.
Hello. I know you! How are you?
I’m good.
Aww, fun! Have you seen Megan today? Are you going over there?
Yeah, did you go? It happened already. Do you know my roommate?
Oh, oh hi!
This is Emily. Emily, this is Ashley.
Hi! I’m Kat. [offers hand]
Oh. This is Kat.
#akwardchurchmoments
Dec 19th, 2011
Kelsey Pinckney
While I Drowned in the Ocean
It was beautiful, the sea
more so than the others would agree.
I plunged myself
inside
ready to consume
the beauty.
The fish swam
past me.
The sharks offered to carry me through
to safety.
The octopi whispered “pity”
and the squid stayed with me.
The whales laughed
obnoxiously.
The seaweed frayed
frantically.
The starfish understood better than most
and the squid stayed with me.
The piranhas had
no interest.
The dolphins stayed optimistic.
The mysteries revealed themselves,
and the squid died with me.
No one believed my tale.
No one cared to know.
Dec 19th, 2011
Molly
I was eating a quesadilla when I saw an opportunity.
It had nothing to do with soda pop,
and it had everything to do with New York City.
I could see you there, if I tried hard enough.
But you keep calling and laughing at me.
(And if there’s anything I know about laughter–
I almost drowned when I was 4, in water more shallow than that,
and my brother pulled me up with his barely 6 year old paw,
and I never forgot about that.
and I’m thinking of asking my mother if she’ll take this empty
vial around my neck
and put a piece of him there,
but that might be a little morbid,
although the Teen Witch revival lingers heavy in the air.
Probably inappropriate, but we all want to win.
And who knows what has come out or been copied and pasted
from hearts and keyboards across state– lines across your face,
it’s that you earned them.)
Dec 19th, 2011
Alex d.
(The greatest poem EVER)
Dec 19th, 2011
Anna Tallo
There was a young girl who was awkward
like snow on a bright summer’s day.
She was confident and happy completely
and ignorant of her urkle-like ways,
She daydreamed of unicorns & gnomes
in the field beyond her school.
Never mixing or mingling too much with others,
never caring too much about cool.
Most would have been embarrassed
walking in her shoes for even a minute,
but, this girl, she knew in the depths of her heart
that “coolness” had its limits.
So onward she went through life
wearing her turtleneck & her rainbow toe socks.
Her treasure was the uniqueness that she carried within
never caring to fit in with the flock.
Dec 19th, 2011
Kathleen
The sand was inked
when it drew tattoos behind our ears,
Some soundless whispers
that only memory could hear –
Between the walls of peeling paint
where we rub jars
with Vaseline –
our dreams,
Forever smooth
Dec 19th, 2011
Katty
Sunrays lash down my neck,
down my spine
they grasp two calves
a naked thigh
warm gentle breath
like stale mown grass- so sweet in its descent
black bitumen steams
through my barefooted sole
Cheeks are pressed to a grey wooden bench
and skin pulls away,
like sticking strands of glue
invisible bonds of strength
so ready to let go.
But the light is too shy
to kiss me Here
all humidity lacking from the air
These senses crawl beneath my bed,
unwound strings of dream
no name from where they came
but always there,
reminders of an afternoon sun
missed too soon
Once passions used to seep as sweat,
and wind-
too thick for rushing grace
-turned to reverse
and being’s time was slowed
Safety lurks in fleeting light
but Sun was not
- is not
one to run from There
instead it merely dripped away
the Ceiling’s canvas stripped till bare
Dec 19th, 2011
Francesca
15 year old girls killing boredom with chatter,
About the age they would marry – as if the man didn’t matter,
And I quietly listened to the details and banter,
Like we were young enough to know.
The number of bridesmaids; the trimmings; the colours;
Walking down the aisle with their father or brother;
How many years they’d wait to became a mother,
And I wondered what I was having for lunch.
For my silence, they turned like a murder of crows,
“And for your wedding?”
How the hell should I know?
I dreamt of lecterns and honours and Parisian snow,
and the lover to whom I would say: “No heels”.
“What else? Don’t you know? Do you even care?”
“I’ll decide when the person with whom I can share
the rest of my life will also be there.”
“…but everyone thinks at least”.
They rushed off with the bells, and I straggled behind,
On my way to English, white lace on my mind,
I was too scared to ask “Is this how we’re defined?”
And still, no one bantered with me.
Dreams make you unique, or so they say,
Yet there’s always pressure to speak the right way,
About the man or the prom or the wedding day
we should have had planned by then.
Dreaming of weddings or not, no one should feel so bad,
Yet having no plan made me think I was lonely and sad,
Those girls never asked what other dreams there could be,
Only “Do you have the same dream dress as me?”.
Dec 20th, 2011
Mia!
An aspiring teacher
with dreams to be
out of the box inspiring.
The world doesn’t believe
in teachers and for me,
but a certain few do!
I will inspire my future students.
Dec 20th, 2011
Ryan
Superman is divorcing Lois Lane
Faster than a speeding bullet or train
Into the washing machine
Some bleach to make it clean
Now he flies with a cape so white and plain.
Dec 20th, 2011
Melissa
at the tender age of ten
a songstress i was
but only to myself, you see
for everyday
for the whole of fifth grade
my nostrils made music for me
i’d breathe in and out
with the force of a gale
convinced that no one could hear
eighth notes, triplets
in out in in in
the tune in my head so clear
until one fateful day
i heard my fifth-grade love say
“could you stop doing that, please?”
the music then ceased
and a sigh I released
the gale turned into a breeze
FIN
Dec 20th, 2011
ed
my teenage awkwardness hung
right there on the end of my tongue.
i struggled when dealing with words:
stumbling and frumbling with verbs..
and my adjectives came out all squashly -
all bishly and bashly and boshly..
and with nouns i was even the same,
sometimes even forgetting my name!
i’d see other boys talking all slick;
with extrodinary mouthfuls of tricks…
but my tumbly, bumbly slips
would never impress any chicks.
so while others would heckle and gloat,
my words
just stayed at the back of my throat.
Dec 20th, 2011
Dee
Fabricate or Fornicate or Both
High school daze
Soap opera star turned English teacher
A vocabulary game
Before an exam
The teacher read the definition
The students gave the matching word
They raised their hands high
They yelled their answers loud
I never won
Until
He said
Something like, “to invent or concoct”
“Typically with deceitful intent”
“FABRICATE,” said my brain, signaling my arm to shoot up
“FORNICATE,” flew off of my tongue instead
It came out incorrectly
Loud and harsh
And wrong (even though sort of right)
The room overflowed with laughter
The teacher flushed red with shame
Candy was my consolation prize
Dec 20th, 2011
Sara
The change of adolescence
From a carefree young girl to an awkward, self-concious lass
Paint chips on the edge of the cup
Brushes waiting to be cleaned
Approval waiting to be earned
Drip, drip, drip in the sink like stones over a pond
Finally release, warmth rushing down between my legs
pure embarassment
my fathers suspicious eye but closed mouth
Dec 20th, 2011
Coby Gerstner
No.
You cannot have my memories.
They are tied to the strings in my mind, like twine.
You cannot have them.
Dec 20th, 2011
Rebecca
your voice has this habit of coaxing from my vocal chords
the most hybrid sounds.
yes, i have dreams that i speak in lovely sultry vibrato
that the notes in each word flow in harmonic tune
and yet,
our voices clash in the most obscene manner, your smooth baritone
caressing, not my practiced practical i’m-in-control humming tone
but this array of half-notes all jumbled an octave too high.
an example for the books:
we pass and you are all eyes and from your throat emits this perfect tune
of hello
and here i am, a savage
responding to your mozart concerto of greetings with a few native
clicks and grunts.
ahem, i’d like to take the time now, just moments too late to say to you
hello.
Dec 20th, 2011
Desiree Rabie
“You’re beautiful, I swear!”
His bad breath permeated through the air
Still it wasn’t enough
His lies and false love
I knew what I was
“I don’t need you to tell me”
I knew what he could see
The handles of love
Even with my clothes on
I knew what I was
I didn’t give him what he did want
And now the “beauty” is all gone
Now since i’m not holding his hand
I knew what I was
Now I know who I am.
Dec 20th, 2011
Brandon
Shhhh
Close Your eyes now
It’s time to dream.
Forget the day
and don’t worry about tomorrow.
Just close your eyes and dream away.
Shhhhh It’s time to dream.
Dec 20th, 2011
mister mustash
it rained that day but it had stopped
we stood outside on the hill
where we always did
it was a little more slippery that day tho.
we should have known a casualty would happen.
little did i know it would be me.
i moved to the right and down i went
“down goes frasier!”
everyone turns and laughs as im slidding down the small hill
mud all over my pants.
i got up and smiled and tried to laugh it off…
i felt like crap until my buddy..
well the hill got him too.
he wasnt as graceful
as he jumped up and yelled
“fuck you!!!” to everyone around
as he flipped them off
it only made them laugh more
but it made them forget about me
and i felt a little less bad.
2 friends taken down by one soggy hill
but they’ll remember him and his fuck you’s
and not me.
thank god not me…
Dec 20th, 2011
laura
a little bit below my left shoulder
there are two small moles
half an inch apart like eyes
i would let anyone draw a face
around those two moles
with a goofy smile,
or pretty lashes,
or angry eyebrows,
or crazy hair,
the possibilities were endless…
just seeing that person laugh and smile
at their own little creation
(and would sometimes drag me around to show it off to others)
made me feel awesome
knowing that i’d at least made someone’s day
even for a short while
Dec 20th, 2011
Kate
I’m a teenager now
And all I can hope for is that it gets clearer
Why all this exhaustion and extensive AP knowledge on the
Entire history of the world
Matters.
Because really, most of the time,
I just want to write essays out of music
Write love letters to the moon about her beautiful curves
(or his beautiful curves. we never will know will we)
And draw on the backs of doors.
Dec 20th, 2011
jenQ
The word
I stole from Ms Le Guin
For that time
Spla
Like wearing
A baseball cap
With no bill
When you’re supposed to
Start wearing bras.
Don’t like me
Coming in fresh?
Why don’t you
Kick out my friend again
For her Rainbow hair.
I crushed hard
On boys back then.
Wait
Are we talking
About now
Or then?
Dec 21st, 2011
Kathryn Anne
My hiding place is a house made of glass:
A bright house. A clear house.
A fragile house. A glass house.
In my hiding place They mutter
The Don’ts and Mustn’ts,
The Wouldn’ts and Couldn’ts.
Ah, they say it with such
Confidence and Imprudence!
One bright night, when the glass house
Reflected the moon’s mighty light,
I walked on my toes and took flight—
Away, away from my house of glass.
Wearing my Mama’s hat
I walked far, I walked tall
Waved “Hi!” to folks big and small.
“It’s so good to be out tonight!”
But then trouble ensues
When I see myself in another dress,
In another’s shoes. She looks like me,
But she isn’t me:
Awkward. Lost. Confused.
I ran, I ran, I ran ’til my feet no longer
Touched the soil and rushed to
My hiding place of glass…
Only to find my head won’t fit on my door
Anymore. For I chose to grow up.
Dec 21st, 2011
Larissa
I went to a party and didn’t know anyone.
Then the person I fancied came in and
fancied someone else.
I went home and wrote in my diary:
My life is a Smith’s song.
Dec 21st, 2011
Stella
In high school I had my first crush
We took the same bus for 3 years
and every day he got on I would blush.
We talked almost every night.
After 2 years, I told him I liked him.
He dated another girl a month later.
Whatever.
Dec 21st, 2011
Nick
it was odd, being put on the spot
like that, so odd that i
had to take a moment
to consider all the
side effects, the front
and back effects, the every
which way
effects of finally
having to face up to the
reality of loving you,
and i was so busy thinking
and so busy loving
that i think you got bored
and went one of the
ways i had dreaded.
Dec 21st, 2011
Carlie
Dear friend,
Haven’t seen you around in a while
Just wondering what’s new with you
Did a new color of grass grow in your yard
Have you mapped an alternate route to the work
Do you still cut your sandwiches to look like kites
I ride my bike, still
like I did when we lived in the same town
where do you live now?
Dec 21st, 2011
heath
I sat with my legs spread
The light falling on my thighs
Revealing two marks
Marks that my body will own
For the moment
Or most likely forever
Marks that are separate
But form as one by the light’s shadow
With me
Not forgotten
Dec 21st, 2011
Annika
solstice
something breaks somewhere inside you
when he makes it up the hill to your old house,
the boy who has driven that same indiana jones yellow yellow jeep for as long as you have loved him.
you are home from college for the first time this year,
and he says to you, leaning over some giggling girl in the passenger seat,
seriously,
congrats. you’re really
really going places
done more already
than I’ll do
in my whole life.
hey, man, you want to say, you were gonna be an imagineer!
what happened out here
while I was trying to find myself
in central new jersey?
instead you shrug. I Was Lucky,
that’s about
all you can offer
to someone who you used to work so hard to impress.
step back from the jeep as it pulls away and realize, jesus, you ran out to see him in bare feet
on the first day of winter
and the days will only get longer from here.
Dec 22nd, 2011
Vicky
To my Grandma’s we came, each car bringing more kids.
We threw down our coats and removed hats just like lids;
Then ran to the radiator and warmed up our toes,
Each used a clean sleeve for a quick wipe of his nose!
The difference in ages divided us all,
The old ones, the teens, and the boisterously small!
The aunts fixed the table, the uncles lit up their smokes.
The teenagers played cards and told off color jokes.
Though we were the youngest, we had the best time of all
As we raced to the stairs at the end of the hall!
Our bottoms became sore as we bounced down each stair;
And all was quite fine until we heard my dress tear
When caught by a shoe as I began my descent,
In my slip and panties down the staircase I went!
Tears welled in my eyes, my lips started to quiver!
Then I saw Grandma as she came to deliver
A gift wrapped in bright paper and tied with a bow.
So I grabbed at my slip, to my nose gave a blow,
And the snuffles departed to where sniffles live.
Then I found in my heart it was time to forgive
The cousin whose shoe had been put in the wrong place
And just nearly caused Christmas to end in disgrace.
The present that year was my favorite, by far,
A magnificent snow globe made from a glass jar!
Now I am the grandma remembering the night
When the love from my Grandma made everything right.
Dec 22nd, 2011
Dave
Thanks All. Submissions are now over.
Dec 22nd, 2011
Kameron
frizzy hair
awkward stares,
nervous hands
all night crams.
Metal teeth
cologne that reeks,
this is what teenagers are made of.
But please dont be discouraged
When your older you will see,
with some confident courage
just how un-awkward you can be.
Dec 22nd, 2011
iulia
Hi, when will you announce the winner?
Happy Holidays!
Dec 27th, 2011
Kathryn Anne
Just curious, have you already chosen a winner?
Jan 15th, 2012
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