lemonade stand (a poem)

  look at you, your bones are hollowing out skin crumpling like wet cardboard sallow yellow veins stale running on evaporated waste                                                    where is the zest        … Continue reading lemonade stand (a poem)

autumn: a poem for Qiu Jin, Chinese poet, feminist, revolutionary, & martyr

sister, she wrote they are coming for you run hide save yourself. but I was not going to flee to do that would be to scatter the leaves of the trees whose seeds I have sown this school these girls fierce and strong flowers but not yet in bloom a field of two hundred million… Continue reading autumn: a poem for Qiu Jin, Chinese poet, feminist, revolutionary, & martyr

Why a Slam Poem Called “Here” Reminds Me of Chinese New Year

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3hKWKw4G3M4 "I am a stranger. And if you're not supposed to speak to strangers, and I only speak to when spoken to it's no wonder why getting up in front of a mic feels a lot like breaking through my mother's silence." -Here by Aman Batra A Poem That Says Everything I was Trying To… Continue reading Why a Slam Poem Called “Here” Reminds Me of Chinese New Year

Blade Dancer (a poem)

don’t tell her what to think don’t tell her how to move. put your hands on me here, and put your mind elsewhere no- No! paper girls crumble at the touch, but ashes cannot be burned, and she she has been forged in a fire more devastating than your small ways can fathom. She has… Continue reading Blade Dancer (a poem)

Slam Poetry Tournament Prep!

Recently, I tried out for my school's slam poetry team.  I hadn't even known that our school had a slam poetry team until the very last day of tryouts, so you can imagine that I was a little bit frantic.  At lunch, I ran to the room that someone had told me the tryouts were being held… Continue reading Slam Poetry Tournament Prep!

A Tiny Poem Excerpt that Speaks to Me on a Spiritual Level

“At first I did not fight it. I loved the suffering. It was being alive! I felt my heart pump the blood that splashed my insides with red flowers; I savored my grief like chilled wine.” — Alice Walker, from Her Blue Body Everything We Know: Earthling Poems 1965-1990; “At First”

What Comes Alive at Night

via Daily Prompt: Moon Uniform inky black broken up by Delicate misted clouds, and a Quivering, luminous blue moon. A maze of glossy sidewalk in the dark, Winding, intertwining, Surrounding smooth towers that jut against the sky. They loom above, Brightly flashing Shining windows clashing, casting Neon shadows over our wild and joyous faces As… Continue reading What Comes Alive at Night