Category Archives: Poetry


When the conditions are right

Love grows like trees do

building itself out of light

And air

And water

Its hands plunging into the dark soil

When it is still only an acorn

In its rayless hole

With no mind to guide it upwards

it reaches for the sun

Then, particles of light

Fall onto the green

Shaky leaves


exhale oxygen


People forget to tell you that,

As the love grows

it changes

From that smooth sapling

Into a wide,


With roots that seem to reach

The center of the earth

The bark thickens

And the tree’s growth

creates the stretch marks

Criss-crossing its surface

Your tree is no longer smooth

No longer young

But the scars

In the scars you can

See all that eaten light

A Short Critique on the American Democracy

Clare McCullough

Bottle rockets and the

Fourth of July

Who knew freedom came in a pack

Of hamburger buns

A celebration of this great nation

Independence day with nearly 25%

Of the world’s prison population

A history of slavery and terrorism

The mandatory nonvoter forever a nonissue

ignored abused and intimidated; American citizens

For fear that their preaching of acceptance

and tolerance just might start working

Predation is a part of exploitation

We’re American, we’re free but

hypocrisy is in the make of our 1770s jeans

Its not amazing that our empathy isn’t working

Don’t listen to Ron Reagan or Bill Clinton;

poor people are not to blame

it’s the piles of money and decades of shame

Law and order are easy when money has more

Value than Eric Garner’s ability to breathe

Lee, Michelle Ye Hee. “Does the United States Really Have 5 Percent of the World’s Population and One Quarter of the World’s Prisoners?” The Washington Post. WP Company, 30 Apr. 2015. Web. 22 Mar. 2017.

A Collection of Three Poems

Chris Kresser

The game show has begun
Stop talking when you hear the bell ring
You may respond if you’ve been called
Now let them all sing

We are here to find a leader
The one who will gladly take up the cup
Not for greed, power, or lust
But for god, guns, and country

Argot spoken from golden tongues
Ensemble suits and pockets weighted
The accusatory finger pointed at the congregation
But you will find no members of the cloth here

You say you know us
You say you know where we have been
“I am you”
But I cannot see what you claim

I see hefty shoulders and chins held to the sky
I see men with opulent houses
I see women with eyes burning and wide
Absent is the eagle’s seal

Bearing no branch of olives
No strife, nor character to claim
“The fault lies in you”
Says the appointed few

But to the land you love to castigate
Your contributions show only deposits
While the starved feeble parish
On the roads you paved with promises

Where will you go, when your kin ask you to atone?

Wise Words from the 26th
Red pen marks that circle around text
Covered across the white pressed surface
Looking on with doubt
I must remind myself “It is not the critic who counts”

To mark a page is painless
To shout at the stage is seamless
To call every play is effortless
To mock the one who tries is cowardice

Without sounding preachy
During my life I have come to know
When you’re the one in the arena
It is not they who make the mark

The only one that can critique
And second guess your every step
The only one that can truly fulfill you
Is the one who continues on

Till the very last breath

The Algorithm
Attached at the hip. Spines of rigid cogs and screws
An extension of my fingers. Printed black text
Updated constantly with the news.


The cacophonies rip at my back bones
But hey, at least now I fit the mold
Information bought not sold

I feel the dashes and dots in my brains
I can hear it coursing through my veins
All of it noise and echo chambers

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