Monthly Archives: July 2012

Suspended

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I start to lower myself to the ground

  but

Yosha is behind me

   and the mountain speaks furtively

because

it’s snow will soon

  topple.

now, I notice,

  yes, Yosha is still behind me

 coiled around cords and ropes

 that hold him there

   in middair

    and a nearly magic sight, but

         the cold

    night is swept down

          with the sharp hand

 of the mountain-

    the

   snow will carry us down

     but before it does,

let us make sure we fo not

  leave here empty-handed.

 we bled our hearts out on these

rocks, so where is that morsel

   of goodness buried? is it within

   these tall towers or does it cling

   to our ruby stained hands, that touch,

   almost translucently, and I say

                 “don’t look down”

                      “don’t look down”

 

Copyright 2012 by Golden Star Poetry

   

 

 

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THE LAST SPY

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After the great boating accident of 1972, my friend  Therissa and her husband, John, moved out to a little farm in Indiana to escape from city life, and to prevent their identities from being revealed. It was an unpleasent  way to say goodbye, especially because they had managed to rid themselves of phone numbers, social security numbers, birth sertificates, and family history. I, on the other hand, grudgingly moved back to live with my mother, who had heard all about my misadventures with the government. She was the type of woman who would posses an AK-47 and not be afraid to use it; especially on her loved ones.

Copyright 2012 Golden Star Poetry

A.A. Milne- a thought

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How influential A.A.Milne has been-

I think what he’s done- it goes unseen!

But truth be told, in truth conveyed,

the only truth was what he said.

And I myself, have read them by,

and by so when, I was a child.

I listened to them on a tape

(which, sorrowfully, I had misplaced).

But memory, it serves me well,

of all the poems I could tell.

I’d memorized them- every one

(well not each page, but half as done).

And when I do, it makes me smile,

that when I’m sleeping all the while,

those places come to my minds eye,

lie twitching in their idle sky.

I feel the lapping waves and sand,

I feel the sixpence in my hand,

I smell the air, the salty seas,

and what a little child I’d be……

Copyright 2012 by Golden Star Poetry

Renting starvation-1932

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Hello. I am a young poet and short story writer in middle school, and I am very  eager to share my vast collection of poems, stories, thoughts, and jokes. In short, I hope they will inspire you to write your own poetry, read, sip a cup of tea, or just relax. Okay, here we go!

Renting starvation-1932

the children

like the old people

they sit on rocking chairs

on the porches

Porgy stole pa’s pipe

she doesn’t light it

she pretends to light it

and it looks funny in her

mouth. She calls me Watkins

and we solve cases-

we are hungry I say how

can we play there should be

dreamers not solvers come! Porgy

what are you waiting for but she

just looks at me, her innocent eyes

asking me a question.

Copyright 2012 Golden Star Poetry