Category: Uncategorized
-
Two Poems by Anonymous
Freedom at a Cost On campus my room means freedom. Independence granted, Where I can work and earn my right To life While still feeling like There’s some kind of meaning. My home in the city was a prison, suppressed by funds—or lack thereof. Cold and sometimes dark, With loss of power From the inability…
-
Good Boy by Cheyenne Shepard
An empty bowl. A squeaky toy. A bed gone cold. A nose print on the glass. Paw prints on the mat. A lonely leash. An empty collar. Bites of you all around but. your presence Is no longer to be found. I will forever remember. That cold December.
-
The Best Day of My Life by Georgia Barry
I remember the best day of my life more like a movie than a memory. It has been so long that I remember more of the story that I tell people rather than the actual event. Still, it is my favorite story to tell. It had been a strange day, but I didn’t think too…
-
Papa PJ by Olivia Johnson
Losing someone you love is like losing your favorite… well, anything. When it is lost you get so confused and frustrated trying to figure out where it had gone. It slowly hurts more and more when you can’t find it and have been looking everywhere. Then, it settles in that it is gone forever and…
-
Four Collages and a Sketch by Ryan Josephine Reinhardt
Holy Communion Hunch Pansy Staged Watch Your Step
-
(Un)Mothers and (Un)Daughters by Madeline Neway
I. January I am less asleep than everUnder the cotton sheets left wrinkled from June.Blood biting at my fingertips as I furl,Shrinking into the flesh that soon promises to beShared. Thin skin and fetal folded I host frostAs my lips pass milky clouds. January I am dreaming my way out,Dreaming until I pass Mommy on…
-
Where the Horses Go by Kaila Nordstrom
We were settled in our pasture as the bright rays of the sunset graced the pastures. Much like we always do on the hot summer evenings. My herd continued to graze the green delicious pastures as our person secured the fence. I whinny and call to her as she tells us to be good, making…
-
The Puppeteer by Anas Mahdad
With a wide smile showing his yellow teeth, he looks up. The sky is grey, the tall skyscrapers run through the clouds hiding the sun, black walls surround the city, and behind the paint you can see old colors covered by the pale black paint. And as the streets became bigger the smiles on the…
The Bottom Shelf Review 