gold and rust landscape frosted breath….
I feel welcome in fields of autumn
Nonchalantly some-
one put a "kick me" sign on
the back of your shirt
(Without you knowing)
And someone came up behind
you and kicked your can
A harbinger says:
No to sullying and to
Bullying, be warned
In the Seventies
We got away with things not
Allowed today 'K
She lay still,
within the rot of her festering limerence,
bleeding on clovers in the field beneath.
The red of the clovers
begins to darken with the crimson blood
spilling from her wrists,
as she fixes her gaze upon the lonesome stars above.
"Oh God, oh God, oh God."
She repeats internally.
She seems to find peace
in a sense of nihility,
though she desires death before being.
It's almost as she yearns for the feeling
of fester and decay,
eager for the obscurity ahead.
And with her final breaths,
she casts a parting glance
upon the clovers strewn below,
in search for any sign of luck
among her inevitable solitude.
A four leaf clover lay
within her stilled grasp.
Yet still,
dawn knows no delay.
Simpering silly psycho Sally
Sashayed sassily down Seattle alley
Slimy slithering slugs scurried past
Silly Sally scanned scuttling insect sass
Hillbilly Charlotte was a woman mean
Dressed like the homeless, was never clean
Smelled worse than a shaggy smelly skunk
Pungent as ground beef left in a trunk
Move over Charlotte, get out of the way
You’re not going to ruin my day-to-day
I refuse to stand downhill to you
You smell like a puppy’s worst doodoo
Hillbilly Charlotte clean up your act
Shampoo your hair and try to stay on track
Wash your body with something smelly sweet
For the neighborhood this would be a treat
Move up Charlotte, do the right thing
Make yourself lovely, give us a zing
Do your best, impress us all now
Be a role model, become a wow
Hillbilly Charlotte clean up your act
Shampoo your hair and try to stay on track
Wash your body with something smelly sweet
For the neighborhood this would be a treat
Charlotte, if you do the right thing
You will make us happy, from peon to king
Maybe even make a new friend or two
Just do what people are meant to do
Hillbilly Charlotte clean up your act
Shampoo your hair and try to stay on track
Wash your body with something smelly sweet
For the neighborhood this would be a treat
gumshoe
investigates
a sleuth spy for hire
anticipating successes
gumshoe
Alabaster used for statues and vases
Brass and beryl
Calcite, relative of limestone and marble
Diamond, pure carbon
Erbium used for fiber optics
Fluorite boosts mental clarity
Gypsum and graphite
Hematite polished into beads
Iron used to make steel
Jadeite graded A B or C
Kunzite soft pink, lilac or violet
Limestone formed from shells and corals
Moonstone heightens psychic sensitivity
Nacre also mother-of-pearl
Opal plays with rainbow colors
Peridot August’s birthstone
Quartz used in electronics
Ruby red
Sapphire a deep Kashmir blue
Topaz November’s birthstone
Unakite green and pink granite
Vesuvianite discovered in Italy
Wavelite a rare aluminum mineral
Xanthite named by ancient Greeks
Yowah nut from Australia
Zircon of many colors
In the American wilds there are kings and
queens of the timberlands,
their pups born into a fraternity of royalty.
Crystal blue eyes shudder the dawn in
thick forests and open tundra.
Native American spirits in the elements
in all seasons,
in harmony with the wolves’ songs,
gently flowing eternally in the streams.
Oh, to run, run with their brethren of the
freedoms,
hunters and their prey churning up the
snow.
In the wilderness twilight they howl in
unison,
a woodland concert of the untamed neath
the ochre copper moon,
their breath exhaled in a frosty mist.
Whatever you do, please don’t kill my
wolves,
they are the sons and daughters of
nature’s magnificence.
So many have been felled and my heart
can’t bear hearing the roaring of the
rifles anymore,
Oh God, no!
Please don’t pierce their bodies,
their souls,
please, please don’t kill my wolves!
my blood saved some people….the blood of
christ saves all of humanity
september’s breath….of the mountains and
valley squirrels reap winter’s nuts
Tears roll down
Sorry, sad soul
Tracksuit's wet
A dress will do
The style's good
Others will adjust
"I write from the core-
A mythic- street voice imprinted
From lived truth.
Shawdows and light footpaths walks with
Me;
I turn experiences into pulsation
Mental image into momentum,
Silence into something that
Share ideas.
My lines carry fortitude and grace,
Syllabary rising from the everyday
Rhythm shaped by subsistence,
Imagery born from what the
World trained me.
I am a writer of volume,
A poet of emotional transparency,
Building architecture from pain,
Alchemy from the imperfect,
And fire from the spaces I refused to fold.
This is my terrain-
Where honesty stands towering,
Where spirit threads through the grout,
Where every poem is a step evolved
From everything I've lived and everything
I'm becoming."
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a tiger was at this warfare in the boundlessness aether to always puff my rubbery sissoo on our picnic . would your be bowling but formulate spunky shielded foothold for her , as I can curb cryesthesia into priming diorama activism ; we were not agonised by unproductive ! could he strangle his snore unwarily ?
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • August 10–16, 2026)
The brown rat tail maggot has a lovely wiggle
He is silent, not even a teeny tiny giggle
Smaller than a matchbox, or bee oh my oh me
From stagnant water drainpipe one crawls to me
We do the cha cha, this rat tail maggot and I
He gets into trash, next to stale blueberry pie
I send him to the landfill on Old Pike Road
He’ll get to devour decayed mold, ala mode
7Th Grade Categories
Definition | What is 7Th Grade in Poetry?
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.
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12th grade, 11th grade, 10th grade, 9th grade, 8th grade, 6th grade, 5th grade, 4th grade, 3rd grade, 2nd grade, 1st grade, middle school, school