Please give me a good rating!

So my writing got put on Teen Ink magazine website. If you give me a good rating I could get published in the real magazine. Heres the link, just click on the 5th star and that will really help.

http://teenink.com/poetry/haiku/article/418795/Skeletal-Trees/

Skeletal Trees

A poem made up of haiku. Its about trees and the sky in winter. Enjoy and comment! :)

Frost drapes the dead grass.

The Frail backbones of Birches

The Skeletal Trees.

Rising up over.

The hill… like haunting monsters.

Being forced to bend.

By heavy winter.

The Sky, gray like the ugly.

Duckling, waddles, Cold.

Haiku Monday

I write so I can.

Splatter my mind on paper.

In a mess of words.

Random Poem

Rivers run white while our hearts sleep gray. You look outside no children play. They sky is black and the stars fall the like stones. The only sign of life are the piles of bones.

I'm 13

So tomorrow it's my birthday and I'm going to be thirteen so yeah. I'm going to write something hopefully and post it. Sorry I haven't posted for a few days, I've had an annoying cold.

Haiku Monday

Here's is a haiku that I wrote like a week ago. Enjoy and please comment.

I live to fashion.

In the puzzle that is life.

My own puzzle piece.

The Brainstormer

Check out this blog if you want yourself in a children's literary and art magazine. The submission guidelines our on the blog.

http://brainstormer-anthology.blogspot.com/

Happy New Year.

And yes tomorrow is Haiku Monday! I have written a haiku everyday since when I posted the Haiku a day challenge so yay I've gone one week!

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year Everyone!!!

Random Haiku

My gloves in my hands.

My snow boots are in my feet.

It’s opposite day.

Happy New years Eve!!!!

The Spool of Thread

Random poem I wrote about wishing to live moments again.

We hear the people saying as we walk the square.

That they wish that time was a spool of thread.

A spool that they would unwind and unwind till the present they fled.

In the gallery they speak of art, of Picasso and Monet.

That they see magic in the strokes of the brush on the paint.

The only things the present hasn’t begun to taint.

You and I shall go, to the bridge.

The bridge over the sun-set splattered water, red.

And then we shall see that the art is not dead.

We shall go to the pier.

To see the ocean waves.

And watch the fishermen catch their fish, sparing them a watery grave.

We shall go to an open field and see the moon is calling.

We will feel in our hearts the heart-felt call of the stars.

And in the clouded sky the red twinkle of Mars.

And today we shall remember these moments.

And wish that we lived it again.

And then you and I shall unwind our life’s spool of thread.

Snowflake-Memory Poem

This is a poem I wrote about how snowflakes are like memories. Enjoy and comment!

Snowflakes are like memories.

They drift down on to your tongue.

Stay there for a fleeting second.

Then melt away into nothing.

They fall thickly, accumulating in thick piles and mounds.

They cushion your falls.

And chill your bones.

Then melt away into nothing.

They come in blizzards.

And in muddy slush.

They can be ugly or beautiful.

Then the melt away into nothing.

All seem the same.

But all are different.

Everyone is unique.

But they all melt into nothing.

Some stay for ages.

Others do not.

Some disappear as they are falling.

They all eventually melt into nothing.

The only thing we can do is put them in the freezer and hope.

That our memories don’t melt into nothing.

Haiku Monday

From now on every Monday I will post a Haiku (or poem if I fail on a haiku)

This haiku is a haiku I wrote about a baby Japanese Maple that is in our yard. Tomorrow I will post a picture of it, I can't right now because it's dark outside.

Gray wilting branches.

Drooping over cold hard ground.

Maple in winter.

Ayla's Writing Piece

Fear is like a fence, you can't go through it, you cant break it, but you can go over it and leave it behind.

Haiku a day challenge.

I have a new challenge for myself, and that is to write one haiku everyday for an entire year. I encourage other people to try this or a variation of this like: a poem a day, a page of a story a day, and etc. Along with that I am resuming my quest to make 1000 paper cranes. Happy Holidays!

After the battle.

This is a piece describing the mood after a battle. Remember war is not the answer. Happy Holidays.

The battlefield is shrouded in an eerie silence. The only sound other than the cries of the wife’s and children of those men killed in yesterday’s bloody massacre is the sound of the river next to the the crimson battle field.

Death, a cloak, so heavy, of the memories of lost comrades and friends. Soldiers from both side see the carnage and bow their heads in respect of the fallen. Regret and guilt spills over some, tears fall on to the stained ground and the soldiers wonder how this horrible thing could've happened. The sin of war.