The Dancer
At fifteen, he was a dancer with a slim body
and narrow hips, after school he walked to
the dance studio where he was welcome
and danced as long as he could
other boys bullied him and said he was
girlish, but the girls liked him because of him
the felt save
On and on he danced, the press wrote
about this talented boy, but the bullying
didn't stop to prove to them he was not a sissy
he, at eighteen, joined the Ukraine army
who could use a boy like him in a forward
position keeping an eye on the enemy
Bullets fly in the air 98% hit nothing much
but a bullet hits him in the neck
His parents received a medal their boy had
been a hero.
i miss the way she looked at me
i miss the way she held my hand
i miss the softness of her cheek
i miss the games and girlish laughter
i miss the passion in her day
i miss the time she'd spend with me
i miss the years cruelly stripped away
i miss most the things she had to teach me
but since she's been gone i recognize
she's been the angel watching over me
AP: 3rd place 2025
Midnight came and went as perilous as a wolf howling at the moon.
—by poet
Tease of time, palpitating pearls,
she’s flirting with the bluest eyes,
framed in heaven’s clouds. Girlish curls
capture a sigh and peer clockwise.
With princess charm, she winked, half-turned
to run, ascend the starry night.
One glass slipper in moonshine; spurned
like a pauper in class-ignite.
Will the foolish prince sip from the glass?
The Love of My Life
Flowing tresses of.blond hair and deep blue eyes
We flirted, promising our undying love for each other
I was captivated by her girlish charm and wit
After nine steamy months it came to an end
I moved to a new school district to start third grade
Charming child, your apple cheeks
give an appearance which bespeaks
of girlish innocence.
I have ten dollars and ten cents -
Now that you have gained my trust,
do with me what you must.
Sell me cookies, 'lil booger,
and kill me with loads of sugar.
gigantic girlish ghouls gathered at Gate’s gazebo
glabrous ghouls glistening grotesque globs of gloom
gothic goldbricking good-for-nothing gossips on the go
green-eyed grandstanding grifters, guests of green groom.
Softly she slumbers, a vision to see,
A smile on her face, serenity.
No worries or cares, no troubles in sight,
Just peaceful repose, a gentle delight.
Her snores, a gentle hum, a sweet serenade,
Cute and girlish, a symphony to aid,
My heart beats faster, my love grows anew,
In this moment, my heart belongs to you.
Though I may be nothing special, unworthy of her grace,
She sleeps beside me, a precious, trusting embrace,
Her beauty shines brighter, even in repose,
A treasure to behold, a heart that overflows.
Oh, how I'm captivated by her slumbering form,
A beauty so uncommon, a love that's sworn,
In this quiet hour, I vow to adore,
This sleeping beauty, forevermore.
gigantean gibber-gabble gives girlish gander goose genuine goluptious
gobbledygook glorifying glimmering glimpses of greasy glossy glittering
goose gossip.
Sun seeking sunflowers' stalks stand stylishly sleek
Bite birds, butterflies on beat before blazing blooms
Farm fields fire-up framing fascinating flourish
Gushing green grass giggle with girlish gaiety
Still soil sings soulful song to silent seeping saps
Reaper respectfully rallies with rapt rapture.
Biting through strings on girlish giggles
harrowing the echo of church bells;
Overpowering with sweetness
rolling in good times that tune foretells,
Magick you always want to join in,
tragic to know it’s a small circle;
Fabric that has been stitched together,
dramatic their chorus of chortle.
Burly bright boys
And curly maned misses
Naughty night noise
And candy cane kisses
Sweetly sampled shapes
And soft hungered hips
Nicely nibbled napes
And lollipop lips
Gleeful girlish giggles
And playing footsie all day
Wishful wanton wiggles
And tootsie rolls in the hay
The girl and her smile straddle the rainbow
neon hair the fluid cascades of northern lights
seafoam cloak the ripples outgrown by the shore
she adores the breeze adorned with gems
emeralds fly from silk strings in the wind
kites made of ruby and sapphire and pearl
sit on a picnic checkerboard in envy-green grass
betting on play-dates with zephyrs
—dice cubes roll beady-black-eyes at their folly
she chases books as they sail from trees
fingers stretch to net helter-skelter hummingbirds
she leafs through slices of fruitcake
each nutty page a silver frame of insane;
crows croon Crosby tunes
two baby paisley owls drive a car
the car does a hop-scotch down bourbon street
field-mouse-flowers meow
the moon jumps over the cow
…she sings “the world needs more bumblebees!”
as a two-masted schooner scries water for its soul
the palm of a leaf offers a diamond ring
palm trees pull up anchor and hover the sunset
she laughs as nuns ride upside-down the roller-coaster rim
her dreamcatchers sticky and tricky as spiderwebs
as virgins lose the reins of sugar-cookie-horses
tilling confetti seeds growing puppet gardens
where Dali wombs and peacock plumes bloom
Where did she go, that girl in the photograph?
Suspended in time, preserved like a fly
petrified in amber, and petrified by life.
Where is she now, that girl with furrowed brow?
Beautiful yet fighting for survival. Youthful
but prematurely aged by her woes, no highs
just lows and a catalogue of disappointments
to carry in the portmanteau of her existence.
Not a flicker of happiness as I look deep into the frame.
I avert my eyes and look into the mirror, and
there she is staring back at me. Older now
but recognisable; softened by the years somehow.
Yes, older now, and perhaps a little wiser.
Her beauty has matured like a vintage wine
and there’s no sign of the girlish angst that
once wrinkled her temple, or caused her to
hide behind a mask of false confidence which
covered the insecurity and fear that she felt.
Now she is strong, a few wrinkles of experience,
a little stiff and aching from the marathon of life,
but graceful and elegant in her later years,
and happy, yes truly happy now. The reflection
replaces the senescent photograph in my mind,
and reminds me that I’m safe and home at last.
A veil of white lace
obscures my bride's face
as she
walks with girlish grace
in her practiced pace,
look-see;
soon, she’ll take her place
standing pure and chase
by me.
kindly air
big mouthing every throat
lungs suck until drunk
maggie has gone shopping with alexa
they back and forth with girlish glee
while songbirds listen
to the electronic voice of god
aunty agatha went for a naked moonlit walk
the racoons began to chatter
like old men
it was a fairytale ending for her
and now it is a sunday morning
a day to talk to trees
and not listen to the words they say
as if we were all in church
brown walking boots
already smeared with grassy puke
winter bones are showing up
like fingers they point to a cracked pot
on the surface
of a new
more alien moon
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