Biography of Ginny S.
I'm just your regular midwestern young adult, recently graduated from high school; attending UW-Madison in the fall. I'm majoring in English and probably going to law school in the great windy city of Sheekahgo afterwards. I want to be a criminal justice attorney but my secret dream is to become a published author. We'll see.
Well enough about me. What do you think of me?
Ginny S.'s Works:
Haha! Yeah right.
Ginny S. Poems
our rose vines are growing, and their clawed, knotted fingers scratch against the dirt. the trees stand strong and tall like ships in a sea of green grass. there’s a fly buzzing around here somewhere,
Bad Poetry About Blood.
i feel like i am a droplet of water a small blot of water dripped onto a sea of oil.
Things That Matter.
time is wonderful lost and lost forever all that’s left is a trail of memories our brain is just a storage facility for the imaginary
God Is Gray.
may i sit next to you, love? eat the bread out of your hands drink the wine out of your cup my star says that i can’t?
lord god look at your living planet all your species are the same but one lord god you got all these kids around
there once was a springtime dill lavender blue the scene never softer in nival review
Tell Me How You Really Feel.
close your mouth keep your ears open sing silent words tell me how you really feel
little red robin outside the glass catching all the rain on a dreary day i knew nothing of his past but i felt familiar with him anyway
God Save The Catholics.
if jesus calls me second-best if i was made from man if i must keep my sermons silent i suppose i was made what i am
Soul, Body, And Life.
“by endurance we conquer” said the man to his haggard crew “the soul, the heart, and every part synchronized will pull us through.”
sometimes i feel that music is all the same is all connected is not original
harvest moon in the clear black sky these are the things i love.
outside my window stands a Tree his ancient posture incomplete his green leaves whisper in the breeze he rents his arms to birds and bees
i was digging in wet sand scoff, scoff, the shovel sighed until i hit the water and a small moon rock
i was digging in wet sand
scoff, scoff, the shovel sighed
until i hit the water
and a small moon rock
i had seen this rock before
it was milky white
i felt its edges and it was smooth
i remember when i once