Leaves - The Very Worst Poem Ever by Lenitschka

Off the barren branches

They Fall

Fall

Fall

Into the darkness

That is Winter

Winter

Winter

Changing first to colours

That Spring forward

Spring

Spring

A sign of an end

To Summer

Summer

Summer

Fall Leaves

Glitter Glue - A Bad Poem by Sasha

Brightly sparkling orange paint

Glitter glitter glitter

Colors shining everywhere

Glitter glitter glitter

Making castles, princes, dragons

Glitter glitter glitter

Me and mom and dad and Davey

Davey sucks though, he can’t paint anything because he’s only two and I can’t believe mom and dad let him paint with me again when he just RUINS EVERYTHING

Glitter glitter glitter

Companies as Characters - Save the Economy

Air Canada sat in the Prime Minister's office, legs crossed and both hands cupping her knee. It was as much a posture of comfort as it was a way to keep his feet from bouncing in nervousness. The office was silent except for the clicking of the old style clock on the PM's desk, but thick with tension. Air practiced holding his breath for as long as he could just to pass the time.

The first sign of the other guy's arrival was the yelling and commotion coming from down the hall. The sounds got closer, gaining thumps and bumps as they neared, when suddenly Petro-Canada burst through the double doors of the office, the PM's executive assistant trailing closely.

"You can't just- I'm sorry Madame, I told him he can't just barge in here- "

"It's OK Percy, I'm expecting him."

"Yeah, y'see Purse, I'm expected."

Petro was decked out in a silk shirt and dark brown leather jacket, an Italian scarf draped loosely around his neck. He pulled an apple from his pocket and chomped on it loudly in the assistants face. Petro turned towards the PM and saw Air sitting there.

"Oh, it's you."

"Sit down Petro," the PM barked. "You're late enough as it is."

"Eh, sorry sir, ma'am, you know how it is, jet-setting around the world, meeting and greeting, selling oil, buying oil," he said with a big smile.

"Well, you certainly have grown awfully big for you britches since you started working for Suncor," Air stated, the annoyance in her voice thinly disguised behind a veil of condescension. 

"Aw c'mon sugar, it's not like you've exactly gotten anywhere sticking with Big Brother if you know what I'm saying."

"I've done well enough and-"

"That's enough you two!" The PM had risen to her feet and was staring the both of them down. "I didn't call you in here so you two could bicker. Petro, sit down."

Petro slumped into the chair next to Air, then bumped it away from Air centimetre by centimetre.

The PM sighed, than sat back down, smoothing her blouse, a gesture she performed more out of habit than necessity since she was always expertly pressed and neat. "I'm sure both of you have been following the media, and are aware that Canada has entered a bit of a recession."

Air nodded enthusiastically, waiting on every word that came from the PM's mouth. Petro just rolled his eyes. 

"Well, the reality is much worse than that. We've been in a recession for some time and now we're about to default on some of our loans. If that happens, China is going to come in and have to possess our country. 

Even petro was visibly stunned, but Air burst into tears. 

"Oh madame! This is awful how could this have happened I had no idea what can I-"

"Quiet Air Canada, I'm getting to it."

Air's mouth snapped shut, but the tears continued.

"Since this is an election year, I can't very well have this news getting out, and the best way to fix this problem is to solve it. So I'm assigning both of you to get out there and stimulate the economy!"

"Oh yes of course right away madame I can do it whatever you need I'll do my best and I won't let you down you'll see-"

But Petro laughed with great barks of noise, and rose to go.

"I'd love to help you ma'am, but I don't work this beat anymore, you know, so I'm just going to go back-"

"Petro sit down!"

Petro sank back into his seat despite himself. 

"I've already talked to Suncor. She's given you back to me until this crisis is over."

"What?! She never told me nothin'!"

"I asked her not to, so I could tell you myself."

"Why that timing no good b-"

"Petro Canada that is enough!"

Petro sank even lower into his chair.

"Look, I know you two have had your … problems, in the past, but I need you two to work together. You each bring your own sets of talents and skills to the table, and goodness knows you both could use some work stimulating the economy in your own sectors-" both Air and Petro coughed and looked at each other sheepishly at that, "but I need you to call in any debts, or favours, or whatever to get this done. This beyond just my re-election – this is about the future of our nation, as a nation."

The tension in the room had subsided significantly, and had been replaced with a sort of resigned determination. Both Air and Petro owed a lot to the PM, and they couldn't turn their backs on the nation, not in a time of need like this.

Air Canada looked at Petro-Canada, nodded, then said to the PM, "You can count on us."           

Companies - by Sasha

It seemed like no one could get a moment of peace this days. Neon lights flash constantly around every corner, sending multicolored beams through the misty air. Loud advertisements were the norm, shouting to lose weight and eat less or screw it all and do what you want! Look at these pictures of the mountains, of the beach, of all the places that are better than where you are and more like where you want to be! Bright, iridescent messages about money, beauty, and power shone at all hours of the night. Even the panels on the sides of the bus glittered and moved as it approached the damp corner of 122^nd and 39^th.

It was raining, and in sharp contrast to the downtown light show, the bus was plain and white underneath the layers of dirt and grime. It shuddered as it drove through a mud-filled pothole, and screeched rather dangerously to a very abrupt halt in front of the dilapidated wooden bench.

The doors creaked open and the new passenger was greeted with the soulless image of an automated driver. He swiped his pass across the pay panel at the front of the bus and sat down, only to be bombarded by screens on every free surface, the city trying its best to soak up money from any potential advertiser. In this case, the entire bus was dominated by the face of one woman, though each screen was comically out of sync with the next.

The passenger didn’t consider himself to be any sort of pop culture fanatic, but in this day, not knowing the biggest celebrities was nearly impossible. Their faces showed up everywhere, spewing their supposed wisdom every minute from his early morning commute to the minute he closed his curtains at night, blocking out the billboard across from his apartment. Of course, the biggest companies tried to show each other up – from Coach to Prada to Chanel, each spokesperson was more exciting and glamorous than the last. But those weren’t the ones that really bothered him. Their words were empty and their slogans were frankly unimaginative. No, there was only one spokesperson who really bothered him, and she was the one currently winking at him from every panel on the bus.

The Real Canadian Superstore, that’s what he called her now. She’d had a different name before, but that hardly mattered at this point. Her face was everywhere, and anyone living in Canada knew who she was. Why a glorified grocery store needed such a ubiquitous spokesperson was beyond him, but for years Real Canadian Superstore had been at the top of the advertising food chain. Most people couldn’t remember when they first saw her, only that everyone in the country could recognize her.

“Real.” He scoffed at the thought. Sure, that was definitely what the ads were going for – with her undyed, straw-colored hair, the smattering of freckles across her brow, the small but noticeable gap between her front teeth – in contrast to the beauty companies, she was supposed to represent a more everyday sort of human being. Someone you could see walking past you on the street, maybe glance twice in her direction, but nothing more. And sure, maybe that’s what she’d been in the beginning – just a normal, nondescript woman (though he knew for a fact she was from Iowa) – but that was certainly not what she had become. Big dreams could take someone to a strange place, and even though her eyes were still that same stunning grey, they seemed to have left some of their depth behind.

The bus couldn’t drop him off quick enough. When it finally pulled up to his brick apartment building (one of the few without a giant billboard plastered to the front), he hopped out of it as fast as he could, leaving her picture behind. He always thought, somehow, that if he could just avoid seeing her then maybe she’d disappear, and maybe tomorrow he’d get through his morning commute without being told how great he’d look in Joe’s fall line.

As he entered his apartment and pulled his dark curtains over his living room window, he found himself wondering, as he too often did, how much better things would be if the world had never become like this. All of these advertisements, all of the consumerism, the misplaced loyalty to companies that never actually cared as much as they professed they did. Perhaps if he’d never gotten into the advertising game, he’d never have met her, never had his heart broken, never have failed. Or perhaps, maybe he just shouldn’t have chosen to become the face of a company like Michael’s.