Author Archives: Stick Figure Poetry

By Sara Bowman Told himI liked the wayhe looked at mewhen I looked away Could feelin my periphery,some puzzling touch ofeyes passing over, an admiration?an undressing?maybe no matter. maybe simple studyof cheekbone and lipsof curls and eyelashes, maybe crunching the numbersof some hidden equation,decidingifI add up. a smile twistsand arms unfold unfoundedungroundedlikestepping into trafficwithout looking,FallContinue reading “Peripheral”

By Elynn Alexander You are out thereBut I refuse to have my faceAbout me. I have left my eyes on ice.Back. At that palace. They have a name for you there.And a room. Number twenty two.This is informationI will not use. But I say it mattersThat they see you. So I push to make this so. Continue reading “Twenty Two”

By Darrell Parry Dare to show another the cracks in your glass, knowing that person might have a baseball bat hidden behind his back. If you do it often enough you might find someone who appreciates the intricacies of your spider web pattern. Someone who finds it beautiful. Dare to show another the cracks inContinue reading “Cracks”

By Nancy Scott I’ve always wanted snowflakesto hold in my hands;to examine at my leisure.They hit my face fluffy or stinging–frisson of fairyland I may have snowballs and snowdrifts,but snowflakes eludeto water on cheeks and fingersthat no tongue can catch;that flicker near an eye-blink. But now you bring me crystals to explore. I hold them and know ofContinue reading “Snowflakes”

By Florence Susanne We’re not in love, But I feel as though we have been once before.I don’t believe in fate, but could it be that we fell for each other in another life.We could have held hands and watched as the Western Roman Empire fell.My fingers possibly traced the veins on your arms whileContinue reading “We’re not in love”

By Michael Daigle Thunder rumbles like distant gun fire,The echoes of endless battle.The statues all have swords,Huzzahs not to sacrifices, but to campaigns for glory forgotten.Let the metal rust and the stone melt.Remember the faces and tears,Not the cries, nor the gloating words of conflict.Let love be as fierce as war. Dry rivers mark deserts,Continue reading “A thousand years of drought”

By Magdalena Mateo The first rays of sunshine glitter against the mopped floorA slight spring breeze pushes through the windowDrips of coffee echo in the kitchen But I don’t even drink coffeeIt sits dark inside the hand painted ceramic mugThe French vanilla creamer just inches awayThe stolen Splenda packets leaning against the container But IContinue reading “Mourning Routine”

By Cleveland Wall First snow, no dog. First dog I ever loved died Tuesday morning. I had to go to work anyhow, stuff the hard lump of sad into a tight compartment behind the file vaults. No dogs allowed. My dog was a past master at all the doggy pursuits—the bunny chase, the bacon snarfle,Continue reading “Snow Prince”