You are a force like Victoria Falls,
Named for the Queen, yet more aptly,
Called Mosi-oa-Tunya, “The Smoke that Thunders.”
Read moreOde to a Natural Wonder
Glass Beach, California, during midday. Image courtesy of Medium.
Shades of Blue
I was blue before you
And I was blue after you
I thought that if I gathered you in my hands,
I would find a way to piece you together
Read moreA Poem About Life
People always tell me I am a good writer. But, I am always unsure if anyone actually means it. I’ve lived with a disability for the past 21 and a half years and for most of my life, I’ve felt “good” at absolutely nothing.
Read moreOde to Handwritten Letters
My eyes marvel at the words written on you, captivated by their lovely décor: fancy parchment paper, scraps of lined paper, post-it notes, and white napkins.
Read moreWhat’s Said / What Should be Said
It’s not about race. Don’t bring race into it. Not everything is about race. Show me the proof. This fox-eye trend isn’t racist; it’s just makeup. Stop being so insensitive—hands to their face, pulling their eyes upward. Mocking before, now it’s beauty because they said it was. Too small. Can you see it?
Read moreRooted Inside
Unpacking Malibu, A Poem
Hannah Charity’s poem “Unpacking Malibu” connects ideas of language and home.
Read moreCrystal Clear, A Poem
Pulp Section Editor Hannah Charity reflects on recent global events and the power of language as a force for change in this poem.
Read moreWeekly Haiku: The Sun
the warmth of the sun
its warmth like a hot shower
burns my back bright red
Hinterlands in Humanity, A Poem
Instead of azaleas and cherry blossoms’ magical fraicheur,
And the societal balm of sport-
Greeted in the soft spring light by Pandemic’s frosted darkness
A Flame, A Poem
Unbreakable, indestructible.
Read moreTime Sits Beside Me, A Poem
Every time that I am with you, I can stop the hour and minute hand. To hold yours.
Read moreNameless, A Poem
When feelings do not have a name, what do they become?
Read moreCloseness, A Poem
I (once) looked at you with everything.
Read moreThe Haunting Sway of Summer
We’re swooning over the sunsets that signal the coming of the darkness.
Read moreFor Giving Away My Words
Breathing in and out, I find that I’m at a loss for words.. Words, once, gave me power, now they abandon me.
Read moreWaltz of My Mind, A Poem
And a one, two, three—
Down rabbit holes, I follow my Thoughts
ticking off all my faults
seemingly never coming to a halt.
Andante—
Treading above waves of uncertainty
the ocean exhales forcibly.
My heart pounds steadily, artfully.
Crescendo—
The line tries to voice the rhythm,
echoes of an imperfect cadence
cannot play to fill the musical chasm.
Fortissimo—
Conductor of my orchestra
cannot direct if the musicians
refuse to perform in harmony.
Fermata—
I try to forget, to mend
Myself with bandages of chords
only to remember the motif again.
Repeat sign.
"Chariot of Memories," A Poem
Always staring out the window, I see the flash of thunder before the roar of the lion.
Read moreKorczak, the Inimitable
Among these orphans, there is no dread.
They walk, unified, marching to join their fellow dead.
Their one true father leading from the front
Korczak, the inimitable
Read moreWrong Shot
There is a target on my back
I’m waiting for the Firing Squad
Yet I’ve already been shot
Have they already taken away my shot?
Read more