GRANDPA’S MOOSE the wind ripples the water in ways that make it resemble the mountains that surround it.the peak’s shadows overhang the low valleys we fish in.across the lake, green shrubbery hides the lurking moose, moving silently til he nears our ears.we are in his land, his home.we are merely invaders to the beast, invaders […]
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The 10 Commandmentsof the 2022 Teen Creative Writing Clubof South Central New Mexico 1 anything can be poetry2 encourage others and be yourself3 things aren’t all black and white4 bad writing is better than no writing5 it’s not all about white men6 love your writing because it’s yours7 don’t forget this is a way out8 […]
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THE LIES ARE BEFORE THE FOOTHILLBy Melaina L. Mittel3rd place I want to tell you all a thing hereA tragic thing that defines my characterSomething that awakens even in dusk’s dawnSomething that can make an ego out of itselfSomething that can bring you and the others downAt the crack of daybreakSomething that defines my unfortunate […]
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The swarm of buzzing continues down the road. The way it hums startles the silence, stirring around the surrounding eco system. The way the cottontail’s ears twitch every second of every beat the gray fox’s paw fall onto the red sand. The lack of silence disturbs the yucca as it raises its stem high in […]
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This poetry sequence was written by a teenaged writer in Southern NM. We are thrilled to be the first journal to publish her work. the day that we first met. eleven years old, sitting in a science lab that seemed foreign. she was sitting to the left of me, a stranger in an even stranger […]
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A single mind
Over crowded with different colored emotions
Divided by the even and odds of the feeling
For bravery can’t be without fear and sadness without happiness
But the fear and sadness have switched themselves into a pair
A pair that’s making you push that EMERGENCY EXIT
mother, forgive me for i have sinned i am the monster who will slaughter your daughter and parade her corpse around
I will mutilate her skin, form her a new friend
i will poison her blood, with poisonous T
i will eliminate these lumps, flat chested dreams will someday come true
So open your mind before your mouth
It’s my time to shine, my imprisoning time has been done
I am your son.
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IN THE DARK
In a moment there’s the buzzing of my phone.
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The screen lights up. I can see my tear-spotted cheeks and grass-high eyes lit up against the wall.
His name is glowing on the screen.
Not a thought runs through my rattled mind before I grab the device.
“What does he want?”
I snarl to no one. My hands are shaking. My head suddenly hurts. My eyes are tired.
It’s like my heart drops when what he says becomes clear through the tears.
‘I miss you.’
I could feel my heart snap.
My body trembles and a sob I can’t control echoes from my larynx.
The tears now burn.
Barely anything conscious forms when I start typing.
It’s all gibberish.
So many times I go back and retype the message.
‘I don’t care.’
‘That’s your own fault.’
Go away, go away, go away.
I want him to leave, so this pain will stop.
So these tears will stop.
So everything falls back to normal.
I so badly want him back.
But my hands are moving on their own now.
‘You shouldn’t have left if you miss me. I don’t miss you.’
Spike Carr is a 15-almost-16 year old writer from Las Cruces, New Mexico. This is her first publication.
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This House has feelings That door don’t like your abuse The wall is tired of being used The carpet wants respect The coffee wants your working checks Make the right decisions The stove needs to see it The shower needs love instead Lovers need to lie in the bed
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