Articles written by Julie Yedinak

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Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Summer love: 2 of 21

AND THE NIGHT STEALS PIECES OF THE AFTERNOON It was the dead core of summer when you kissed me under soft amber lights and park trees. I bit your lip and you fell in But I vaulted and wrapped my skirted legs around your middle your mouth on my mouth and my heart in the palm of your hand. You clench your fist. I cease to exis...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Feelings: 157 of 747

You are young; I feel it in the dance of hands across my body Down my spine, Around my waist, And to my neck again I sense the sun slink in through basement windows on quiet, slow-moving feet Black on pink My shadow bends and bows And settles into the crook of a dirty corner Disintegrating noiselessly Much the same as me Mer...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Being grumpy: 6 of 28

LIQUEFIED AND RECYCLED The blue-gray light of winter smooths across my skin as I sit here beneath this window vacant as I've ever been hollow like a Sunday afternoon dead as the solitary leaf that trembles politely in a lethargic-however sudden-burst of air. It waits for an exit anticipating freedom praying for the wind to c...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Dark poems: 261 of 1148

She steps across the broken glass and bleeds onto the floor. Red rivers run into puddles; swell into lakes that bubble and shimmer in the summer sun. Her feet stick to the hardwood; parting with footprints that lead her in circles around the room. He was nothing more than a quiet, restless breath against the neck of unassail...
Creative Writing > Short Stories Short stories: Life lessons: 81 of 334

She was dressing in front of the vanity mirror beside me. I watched her glue her eyelashes to her lids and pull the wig on with special care to land the bangs in precisely the perfect spot upon her forehead. She was beautiful then. She took my hand and held it through the music. i swayed in time to the words that shook me fr...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Pain from love: 334 of 838

The orange and yellow leaves crunch beneath my feet. I harbor no resentment but the chill catches me much by surprise. The pink sky cascades down upon me...I reach into my pocket and find a Kleenex still crumpled in my pocket from last fall. A tired, restless wind blows; through my sweater, through my skin, through every det...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: On love: 800 of 1171

Dust for Lelo They unwind The coiled seasons; Jagged years With saw-toothed edges Cutting on the skin Of Life You move against me Like the mountains Stand outside; Imposing geological theorem Upon the masses Of passersby We look Even if we don't intend To look And your eyes flash A brazen send-off Of green and red and brown ...
Creative Writing > Humor Humor: Life: 276 of 316

I hate dressing up for Halloween. My feelings are grounded in two experiences that deemed Halloween costumes a definite no-no for me early on. You see, Erin and I decided in junior high to dress up as a lamp and light socket. I have no idea from where this idea came but it ended in an interesting visual experience, nonethele...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Alone: 234 of 264

Love is a Hole... They all want me In bars In cafes On long walks to the farmer's market At the gym At parties Even the men at work. And occasionally I give in On behalf of hormones Or my ego nagging for a contact high Or just because I want a set of solid arms Wrapped around me In the middle of a dark And unfilled night Tha...