The Raider Wire

I’m lost in a forest I haven’t seen since I was a little girl.
The trees seem taller and the light looks dimmer.

Epiphany

Rayne Crivelli, Staff Writer February 23, 2015

There’s a place where confusion and confidence collide. Keeping secrets locked away within ourselves, Because being hypocritical is worse than being honest. It’s not easy to admit when you are...

The Simple Charity leadership team consists of 14 members all in pursuit to be an aid and advocate for the global poor. Simple Charity is putting on a relaxed poetry reading Thursday, January 29 at 7:00 P.M. in the PAC. Get your ticket at the door, make a donation, and be ready to listen, share, and smile. Photo taken by Joshua Martin.

Poems for Charity

Perri Rabbitt, Staff Writer January 28, 2015

Attention poetry fans! Simple Charity is holding an open mic poetry reading event Thursday, February 5 at 7:00 P.M. Simple Charity is a Christian organization with a goal of raising $100,000 to fight global...

the oak he becomes/with roots as toes/and sprouts as thumbs

Tree-Hugger

Eden Dunford, Poetry Editor December 15, 2014

The one who taught me to always say please told me to see the whole wood, and not just the trees. I watch him wake at dawn while the sun has just started to breathe, the oak he becomes with...

I Never Wrote a Letter Back

I Never Wrote a Letter Back

Ashton Bruce, Staff Writer December 1, 2014

The length of the words you use Does not define your sincerity, Nor does the letters’ complexity Determine how much you want me back.   No matter how poetically you Write to me,...

Smoke tastes better blown from your lungs rather than resting inside.

In the Perspective of a Cigarette

Ashton Bruce, Staff Writer November 20, 2014

My skin is rough, different shades of pale white, Slender, perfectly fitting the cuffs of his plush mouth, Pressed between the pillows of his lips as the end of me Is set aflame, a flash of heat...

Delirium

Delirium

Ashton Bruce, Staff Writer November 13, 2014

Lips stitched together by invisible thread, (his) words secluded, His (mind) is abysmal, dark and dank. His sanity (is) warped, twisted like the mangled arms of dead trees, Filled with the recesses...

 Cut the cord and end the hate. (Photo by Rayne Crivelli.)

Fat is not the “F-Word”

Rayne Crivelli, Staff Writer November 5, 2014

You’re not fat, you’re big boned. You’re not fat, you have fat. You’re not fat, you’re beautiful. All said with good intentions, but all cutting like knives through my thick skin. Halfheartedly...

Everyone’s death will be decided individually. One cannot choose the death they get, but they can choose the one they deserve.

“Death’s Individuality”

Tiffany Lovell, Staff Writer October 31, 2014

Obscurity Surrounded by death He lay soundly In living Hell Scorching flames Illuminating He will not forget Screams Surrounded by agony She lay soundly Passionate flames Frightening She...

Despite being hidden behind a bouquet of flowers, this smile remains radiant.

Nostalgia

Sam Perryman, Fiction Editor October 14, 2014

There was happiness in your eyes. It shines true from above your picked flower. Your nose will be pressed too close against the petals, And your cheeks are upturned in a hidden smile.   This...

Summer Love In Spring

Jessica Prouty, Staff Writer May 19, 2014

Your thumb draws silent circles and little swirls Along the back of my sun kissed slender hand Our fingers intricately laced and bound together Woven and wound as tightly as they can The docks aged...

not seat
but a desert, an assemblage 
of dog hair & chips from last week.

Different Dictionary

Abbey Black, Literary Magazine Design Editor May 6, 2014

couch not seat but a desert, an assemblage of dog hair & chips from last week an escape, a shield that postpones exploring and adventure cushions that consume you making you stay forever bread not...

Within fears, there are wonders.

Decode

Savannah Keith, Staff Writer May 2, 2014

No matter the twisted giggles of shiver that itch their way up my spine, There’s a poised and poisoned reason that traces hands of halfway bind And throughout the world of magick talk there are girls...

Load More Stories
Activate Search
Poetry