SM 1d

The glistening sun sets,
leaving a silhouette of hanging trees,
a decoration on pink faded walls.
Humming cicadas and chirping crickets,
play in a symphony of the night.
Bike rides and park games in darkness,
softball games in the bright field lights.
Each crack of the ball and bat create a chaos of teammate screams.
Lost every game, but won each time.
A refreshing water runs on slippery rocks,
swimming among fish and ducks,
Soaking bodies run home,
Baggy shirts, gym shorts,
Adult and children mix in a weekly party,
Beer bottle caps and soda cans clink to the ground.
Love and laughter surrounds a crackling open fire,
Warming bodies and hearts.
Little feet race to where the sidewalk ends,
the grass grows thick.
It is here where teams are picked and knees are scarred.
12am games are played,
cans are kicked, ghosts roam graveyards, and flags are captured.
Waiting to go home, hours and hours to wait.
Hours of talking of all different ages,
Country music and guitar melodies plays throughout the street,
a lullaby of our childhood.
Television reruns at 2am entertain tired minds,
Couch and floor beds of blanket forts,
Carried up to bed to sleep in comfort at 4am, the chirping birds, already wishing a good morning to most, but goodnight to this home.
The raccoons rattle and the woodpeckers poke in a serenade to sleep,
In a neighborhood of blaring nights and silent mornings.
Each week, the time flew by.

A poem and a glimpse into my childhood.
Skyye Yoder May 18

Mama warned me about the Demons under my bed and the ones that speak nasty things in her head
she told me about the ones I'd find on the street that walk around with 2 eyes and a cold heart beat,
But never once did one tell me that the girl with the
icy blue eyes
could be so sweet.
she just needed help standing on her own two feet

Terry Collett May 16

I had an altercation
with the William brothers
on the stairway of the flats.

I had the tall one
on the chin
but the shorter one
winded me
with a crafty punch
to my gut
and I went down.

The tall one
put in a punch
while I was down
then went off
up the stairs
out of sight.

I stood up
and looked over
the balcony
at my manor
below and off
to the horizon
as far as the eye
could see.

Blue skies
pigeons in flight
kids on and by
the pram sheds
the coal man
delivering coal
over the way.

Girls playing
skip rope
or hand standing
against the wall.

Next time
I'll have
the short kid first
leave the tall one
after to pick at will.

But a punch
to the gut
leaves me feeling
out of salts and ill.

But that's life
some you win
some you lose
life is what comes
not always
what you chose.


Hi, my name is N
I am five years old
And I enjoy hiding in The Closet,

It's snug and shady
Like a compassionate caterpillar hugging me like a kith
Into sixteen green, lukewarm legs
And like the propitious protection the cordial clothes cover me with,

I enjoy hiding in it when I play Hide n Seek with love
And using it like a pleasant play house, a tiny cottage of my own
Running through the dresses, skirts, and suits hanging from above.

Hi, my name is N
I am ten years old
And I enjoy hiding in The Closet,

It’s thermal and tenebrous
Like a clement cave you take refuge in
In the middle of a frore forest’s flagitious grin,

A hideaway from the gelid world’s poisonous doses
Family drama and chasing, caustic canes
From the vicious voices in my head; the baneful bullies’ voices
Because they don't find me in The Closet’s plains.

Hi, my name is N
I am fifteen years old
And I enjoy hiding in The Closet,

It's perspiring and umbrageous
Like the black, leather belt around my strangled neck
That hangs, like my bruised body, from The Closet's glacial metal rail
It’s tepid like Death’s warm, cloaked arms, an awning deck,

I'm sorry but I never expected as well
The virulent voices in my head found me in The Closet’s plains
I couldn't push them out and hide in my cell
So I hung myself like how I hung my cheerful costume of indulgence.

Dasha Apr 24

I wonder why I think of nothing when I am travelling...
I hear voices of people, but no sounds of my own.
No whisper, breath or heartbeat sounds,
I only dream..A dream made out of icy clouds.
And there is, I hear voice of a little girl

Nun! Nun!
Knock knock!
Who's there?
Banana who?
Banana peel
Knock knock!
Who's there?
Doctor who?
You said it...

She kept making these silly jokes and even I smiled as I heard them...
She kept asking her parents and nun to answer her 'knock in the door'.
She reminded me of someone,
As she kept annoying them more.
I blocked out for quite a while staring somewhere far,
She reminded me of someone...
I guess once I was just like her...
I was just like that girl you heard,
I was this, little, silly kid
Making jokes, laughing all day long.
Blurry face with no care at all.

What about now? Would you like to know?
I am buried now, buried in routine...
Every day's the same, passing by so fast
Yesterday was spring,
And today is gone...

What about now? You don't want to know...
You are growing old, missing out youth
Yesterday was warm, but today is snow
Every year's the same,
It fades out slow....

Little Samantha McGee was climbing up a tree.
Branch by Branch she went further and further up with glee.
Till she got to the top, it was quite a drop.
Poor little Samantha McGee lost her grip on that tree.
Down and down to the ground she went yelling, "oh dear mother please catch me."
But it was not to be, for you see it was all a dream.
Little Samantha McGee won't be climbing in any other trees.

Copy Right Michael Robert Triska
It's going into my nursery rhymes book.
Noah A Baker Apr 9

I really wish I was a kid again,
But, it's really shocking,
because I've waited so long to grow up.

I was so wrong to believe
that adulthood was a great place to go hiking.
I really wish I was a kid again.

However, all my goals I've yet to achieve
Make these unknown trails so very enticing,
because I've waited so long to grow up.

Even though I was incredibly naive,
If I said I wouldn't go back, even for a day, I'd be lying.
I really wish I was a kid again.

Time is a thug in a band of thieves,
Who always stole, but I was never crying,
because I've waited so long to grow up.

Aging is a quilt some will never want to weave,
But I want to make more than one. Honestly,
I really wish I was a kid again,
because I've waited so long to grow up.

first attempt at a villanelle, but I've found as I've gotten older, like most, I wish I could go back to a more simple time. However, I'm excited to get older, as new opportunities become available and I'm able to chase my aspirations and goals.
KidPoet Apr 6

Deep underground where secrets are fool,
Flowers are ocean blue surrounding water, a starry pool
They've heard wishes and dreams so quiet and serene,
Whispering quotes so quiet and unseen;

They've seen wars and deaths,
They are past, present, and future alike;

If only memories could fly they would've been gone a long time ago;

They've heard secrets and lies and repeat the sayings each time,
They have no beginning or end;

Never ever dead;

A garden of secrets unheard and untold,covered in scars they are getting old;

One day 5 are gone,
Then 4,
Then 3,
Then 2,
Until only 1 was left;

A girl, a child found the blossom and said words of the surface;
The sun, The waters;
Everything had a purpose

The last flower withered and died;

The  garden of secrets is gone;

The broken dreams and withered wishes;


People grieve and cry,
But do not know that memories never disappear;
The seeds of the past, present, and future lay still dormant;



They just need more secrets,
To grow.

Written by an 11 year old me
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