By Rebekah S.

a soft caressing touch slides up to my face,
I lie silent and content, sheltered in your warming embrace.

flushed cheeks, intense stares-
we melt into one as the moonlight glares.

electricity coursing through my veins; two wires, one spark–
a kindle that burns so bright, it could light the dark.

time is on our side as we loose track,
focusing on the present and never looking back.

with you, everything comes effortlessly;
you and me together, forever— indefinitely.

Rebekah is from Old Forge, Pa. From Rebekah: “Poetry for me, is a way of self expression- free of fear and being labeled. I have been writing for as long as I can remember and would love to have a book of my poetry published one day. When I write, I hope that others could take my piece of art, be able to relate, and use it for themselves. Financially assisted, or flat broke, you never loose your creativity; keep your dream alive.”


Life’s Purpose

By Sherry B Heilman

Life without purpose
is barren indeed
There can’t ‘be a harvest unless there’s a seed
There can’t be maintainment unless there’s a goal
And man’s but a robot unless there’s a soul
If we send no ships out
No ships will come in
If we play no games
Nobody will win
For games can’t be won
Unless they are played
And prayers can’t be answered
Unless they are prayed
So whatever is wrong with your life today
You’ll find the answer
If you kneel down and pray
Not just for pleasure, prestige, or wealth
And not just for good health
But pray for others with unselfish giving
When you make your life’s purpose
The choice of the Lord.

Sherry is a local poet from Dallas, Pa. 

Disco Thursdays

By Amber Lynn

They’re fighting wars over coffee cups and
Spreading rumors about no love for all those celebs on the tv
They’ll never know me
I saw a picture on the Internet
Desensitizing us to the dead
But now all it does is burn holes through every thought in my head
Just like the cigarette smoke of this bar
I can’t seem to pull myself away from.
We always go too far.
I can’t breathe
It’s all religion and bad blood
Who has the quicker draw on a gun
And wallowing in oceans of self-pity
While across the pond, they’re bombing cities
I never claimed activist
Nor got into politics
But this blind selfishness makes me sick.
Allow me to help your point of view, my friend
Nothing really matters at all in the end

From Amber: My name is Amber and I dabble in all sorts of art.
Primarily, the lead singer for Eye on Attraction
If you’re interested, check us out here:

Should Have Known Better

By Autumn Scott

They say it gets easier with time but they never say what happens
when time is standing still,
He was your sunlight, and it seems more and more lately like the darkness is closing in.
You try to sleep,
try to do anything to take away the constant ringing in your ears but you shut your eyes and the image of his lips pressed against your cheek opens flood gates you don’t remember building.
Before you can catch your breath,
you are drowning in a sea of your own naivety.
You should have known better.

They tell you that an object in motion always stays in motion and then wonder why you have spent your life running in circles.
In school they taught you to never ask “why”,
they taught you to just accept things for what they are, to stop being so curious,
maybe this is why you never made it past grade 10.
you want to know why objects at rest stay at rest,
you want to know why the stars shine at night,
you want to know why someone can wake up one morning and suddenly not love you anymore.
you want to know why you got detention for asking these questions.
You should have known better.

They sing their Ring Around the Rosies through gunshots blaring,
heeding warnings of his intention,
He tells you he loves you and you fall for it every time.
the troops beg you to surrender,
to retreat into the safety of life before the war,
but one glance at that face across the battlefield and you jump directly into his line of fire.
Your family fills their pockets with posies to mask the scent of your demise.
Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.
You should have known better.

Autumn Stott, 21, was born in raised in Jim Thorpe, Pa. She is a waitress by day, hopeful poet by night. To read more from Autumn, visit or


By Marissa C. Miller

Maria liked the color Yellow
Yellow was the color of the flowers in the grass
and once she took a bouquet inside
an insurmountable look of pride and a fistful of flowers
“well, now, those are just weeds.” Momma said
and Maria wondered how anyone could live in a world
where your whole life you mistook weeds for flowers

Maria got sad once
and momma didn’t understand
momma stroked her little tousled hairs
and sang her sweet rhymes

Five little monkeys jumpin on the bed
one fell off and bumped her head
Momma called the doctor and the doctor said
“Give her a pill, cause she’s sick in the head.”

but Maria laid out in the field of weeds
and stared off into space
the pills made her gaze absently into the clouds
and she didn’t see monkeys, or elephants, or bears
or love or god or anybody
but she could feel the weeds around her
and thought
how could anyone live in a world that mistook flowers for weeds?
Marissa C. Miller is a Scranton based writer, actress, singer, and graduate student. She is currently a performer and sometimes writer on the podcast 40 Story Radio Tower.

Check out more from Marissa:

Once a Dad

By Tony Amico

On a warm sunny day you entered the world and I was suddenly Dad,
and dream how I dreamed of a lifetime in store, not knowing how little you had.
But grateful am I and so fortunate too, for the blessing of life and a son that was you.
The first steps you took, my thumbs in your hands, all memories vivid as the time your life spans.
The first words you spoke I may not recall, but calling me Dad is what I miss most of all.
So full my life was and you nourished my pride, but I took it for granted as you walked by my side.
Day after day, year after year…wouldn’t you always be ever so near
Those who stepped out of our lives, some who left this earth. These are the realities of life since the day of our birth.
Time marches on, changes do come, I tried my best to be a good Father to you, my one and only Son.
My Michel, My Michel, I just couldn’t see, where destiny was leading, my dreams were not to be.
And so I walk through this life holding memories deep inside, sometimes I see your smile and my walk turns to a stride.
Even though I can not touch you or run my fingers through your hair, I can close my eyes and wander, in my dreams your’e always there.
So when my time is over, when my walk is finally done, I’ll step into the splendor, with you my loving Son.

Tony is a self-employed, local Masonry Contractor from Throop, Pa., with an artistic background. In recent years he has indulged himself into the writing medium. He also enjoys public speaking and writing fictional as well as non fictional post and words of inspiration, drawing from mostly his life experiences.


By Nick DeMarco

Try as you may
Your mind does not equal your body
In the preparation
Of the cold shoulder
The cold shower
Tossed on you
Tossed at you
By life

It is not a matter of self-burial
The loathing is long gone
But this belief in a choice
To smile in faith
That tomorrow is always a viable option

Sometimes I stare at my left hand
Open palmed
Rubbing it with my right thumb
As if coursing the words
Through the neurons
Into the sparks
That comes forth from my hands
And then onto the page
An usual practice
For such legerdemain

Age doesn’t always equal wisdom
But more so an acceptance
Solemn and undeniably true
That even if friends go
Even if loves leaves us
We still have what we were taught by the ancients
And it means something different to everyone

To this boy
Now a man
It is taking a silent oath
To never quit
Not because quitters never win
But quitters
Have the shortest, most uninteresting stories to tell

I want to be a book that can’t be put down.

Nick DeMarco is a 34 year old son, fiance, uncle, brother, and friend- when he is not blogging for, reviewing video games, running his small business, Nick D’s Video Game Vault, or caring for adults with autism on 3rd shift.

From Nick: “Singer/Songwriter and poet, it has taken my many years to accept myself and overcome great obstacles, most recently the passing of my father in April.

This is me. This is all I know in self-expression and communicating.”

Through The Storm

By Mason Crawford and Olivia Romano

Jacob you are louder than a giant
Sophia, they’re all staring, keep your voice down.
Jacob you said that already
Sophia, you pee the bed. Every night
Jacob you are too annoying
Sophia, mom cried when you were born
Jacob you have a mother who desperately needed you

Jacob, Sophia, only if they knew how hard you tried to stay with us, how scared I was of you
That our parents were told us you were babies of convulsions, disasters, and death. That you are going to meet Mister Mayhem only weeks after they adopted you.
That I would want to forget you sometimes.

That you were a four leaf clover drenched in pesticide
That you were a baby baptized in tears and diagnoses.

But buddy, baby, I want you know, I’ll be your keeper
Your Welcoming Sign doormat
And the place you can hide

I’ll be the lion inside your chest ready to attack
Whenever threatened
I’ll be the one who holds your hand when you cross the street
I’ll be your punching bag
Your safe place
The reason you want to come home.

And I’ll still love you unconditionally
I will never stop loving you unconditionally.

I’ll still be there when you need another piece of gum
When you want to play dress up with big girl clothes
When you need a friend for black ops 2

So listen up, just for a moment

I want to make an apology, for not talking about you to my friends,
For not raising the bar because no one thought you could grab it
And for not believing in you.

I know Jacob you’ll never fully understand the meaning behind this, and I’m sure you’ll fight me saying you do but just remember I’ll always have the next piece of gum awaiting for you.

You might be a disaster, but you are the most magnificent disaster I have ever known.

So Jacob,

Never be told you are too loud, because voices tend to put you down anyways
Never stop believing in princesses and ice cream and cartoons with daddy.
Never stop repeating yourself, be the drummer in a war
Never stop swallowing the sun, you are my favorite rainbow
Never stop being you, I need someone to tell me when Friday is coming around

Never stop loving me,
Because I will love you through a million storms
I will never stop carrying you home.

Mason Crawford is a junior at Tunkhannock Area High School and can usually be found trying to get his parents to take in another beloved cat. He has performed on stages as local as The Ritz, Keystone College, and TwentyFiveEight Studios. He has also performed on stages as big as the international festival, Brave New Voices. One of his biggest accomplishments is opening a show for nationally acclaimed artist, Rachel McKibbens. He has been an active member of the local non-profit, youth run organization the Breaking Ground Poets run by Katie Wisnosky. You can now find Mason trying to answer this simple question with to many answers, “Where is the happiness?”

Olivia Romano is an active member of the Breaking Ground Poets. She has just graduated Tunkhannock Area High School, and now can be found scaring it up at Reaper’s Revenge. Olivia has performed on the Brave New Voices (an international youth festival) stage two times. She can usually be found trying to discover life’s mysteries and crying at Grey’s Anatomy. 

Never Been an Easy Thing

By Kathy L.

Hard as I tried
And many tears I cried
But the day did arrive
When I was able to say good-bye

I know I did my best but
I could not pass your test
Perhaps you look at me with disgust
What was it I wish I knew you didn’t trust

In my heart I know my love was always there
But you never did seem to care
A perfect parent I will never be
But as for guilt I am free

I pray for you each and every night
That you will see me in a different light
But if that is not what is meant to be
I cherish the love of two out of three

Kathy is a mother, teacher and wife who loves her job and family. She loves crafting and has only written a couple poems in her life. She lives in Scranton, Pa.

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