Articles written by Terri Lynn Court

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About me - Terri Lynn Court

I was born in Prince Edward Island, Canada and have recently moved to Calgary, Alberta. I'm 19 and have newly completed the Pharmacy Technician program at CompuCollege Atlantic.

I enjoy writing on a regular basis and when logged into Helium I rarely stray

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Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Father: 3 of 131

With weathered hands and nails bitten to the quick you still manage to button up your shirt and lace up your shoes with only a slight wince to break your stern face. I watch you amazed that someone so broken and worked in like an old catcher's mitt can be so soft. You don't cease to amaze me, Father.
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: A day in the park: 1 of 32

The chains of the swing rattle in the night and the street lamp buzzes with light as I struggle to steal my breath back from the fierce autumn wind. It is 2AM and I lay on the sandy surface of the cold blue plastic that children use for cheap thrills sending them from the tip of the jungle gym to the gritty, beige, rock-infe...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Life: 66 of 1104

In heels that click with the cracks in the sidewalk and a coat that rises just above the knuckles of my left hand I fall into a pattern on that strip of black suspended by chains. On the forward swing my coat fills with air and I lean back far enough to see the darkened blue sky clear but empty of no more than a few stars. O...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Without love: 4 of 66

I'm naked under these clothes and vulnerable in front of this camera so you hand me a cigarette and tell me to smoke you away and I do. I inhale and exhale like it's nothing- like you're nothing. I tap ash into your carpet fibres and blow smoke into your purple drapes in between telling you things like "You'd have been my fi...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Facing the past: 10 of 117

We're twenty-seven and we're too wasted to close our eyes so we stare at eachothers palms and examine the residue that shook hands and tied shoes. We watch as we write on post-it notes about familiar smiles that don't recognize us from across busy streets. We watch as we fill paper cups with decaf when everyone likes it stro...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Memories: 45 of 492

There's nights like these when the house is warm and the air is thick with cigarette smoke and the coming of the night and even through the toxic clouds I can imagine your hands, your lips, in ways that daylight doesn't recognize. Your face is illuminated by birthday candles that mark another year and give us reason to speak...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Fixing the heart: 5 of 48

It's easy to find beauty in a day when you're face-to-face with airport traffic - a line of taxi's trying to decide whether or not to run the red light - on an October morning at 5:22. It's difficult, however, to imagine the beauty of yourself when the rearview mirror is showing you everything you don't want to see - a smudg...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Summer: 16 of 145

Your pale skin danced in the sunlight. Your dark hair laid - wet and limp - in the hollow between your shoulder blades. Your happiness shone through the gap in your front teeth and the soles of your feet were coated with coarse sand granules giving the otherwise smooth surface a bit of texture. The strings of your bikini top...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Watching: 6 of 46

Because I see what he does as her back is toward him and her eyes are focused on the flashing numbers ahead. His thoughts burden her shoulders and burn down the length of her back resting for a second at the tip of her spine. His gaze expanding outward and back up her wrist, her arm as he taps the emergency stop and she lets...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: The vision of us: 1 of 7

The pad of your thumb draws circles on my shoulder blade as we lay naked atop the blanket of grass. Beneath the oak, amidst the August air, sometimes this is enough. Your breath on the small of my back is nervous and quavering as you speak those words. I turn over in a sort of silent understanding and you press your mouth in...