Poetry

garden.

 

February 12, 2021 / Hailey Wharram, Co-Editor In Chief

what fools we were last fall

to fall in love with fool’s gold fallacies, 

honey-soaked words dripping with broken promises,

sticky to the touch, ever present despite the burial.

 

suffocate the winter marigold sprout

before she has the chance to bloom come spring,

to spring from the flesh and become her wintry mother

what divine promises this afternoon brings.

 

summer saunters in with grace,

but leaves without a trace.

Summer saunters in with Grace,

but leaves without a trace. 

 

layer upon bloodstained layer of sedimentary earth,

see the fluorescent flames tucked inside her hearth

and pray to God they never see the pale lights of morning

lest the hunter becomes the prey

and the victor shows the tell-tale signs of mourning.

 

the seasons change with growing pains

but the circle remains unbroken,

blissfully unburdened by words unspoken

but can mankind say the same?

 

the wheel turns and turns with agonizing familiarity,

but we’re still here til there’s nothing left. 

so we pass the time by refurbishing haunted houses

until the floorboards don’t creak beneath our weight anymore.

 

we read tenderly-worn thrift store dictionaries from cover to cover,

newly enchanted by the mystical beauty of self-expression. 

the word “benevolence” was shakily highlighted in every copy. 

we relearn it’s meaning earnestly. 

 

finally, we paint our thumbs forest green and pretend to be florists. 

they never see through our clever disguises. 

Halloween breaks November’s gentle heart all over again,

the melancholic wave finds the self-loathing shore to crash upon anew. 

 

nevertheless, we collect the marigold seeds and find new places to plant them. 

a Garden of Eden all our own.

Kaleidoscope.

 

February 12, 2021 / Hailey Wharram, Co-Editor In Chief

your colors are the most vibrant

in the quiet, in-between moments.

they come like skittish wild animals,

treats to witness, magnificent sights to behold,

just don’t come too close,

or they may lose their pigments,

fleeing before they’ve truly had the chance

to animate all of your features 

and tint your smile 

with their peculiar saturations.

 

weightless, softened blues:

the musical sound of your laugh

with me in the passenger seat,

always by your side.

 

waxy, rose-kissed pinks:

goosebumps sprinkling my neck

when you whispered in my ear.

a secret, a confession.

 

warm, melting yellows:

the way it felt when you held me.

the comfortable strength within the silence.

never let me go.

 

i was always too afraid to tell you my favorites,

worried i’d scare them off into hiding by 

acknowledging their beauty,

but i think it’s important that you know i see them,

because it's in these moments that

i truly see you.

 

you’re a malleable canvas 

that i have the privilege of rediscovering everyday.

a rainbow, a kaleidoscope 

who i am so very lucky to love.

Aftermath.

 

May 31, 2021 / Lucia Fogler

 

Aftermath

 

I lie- 

Thinking I’m strong 

 

But giving away the façade 

My gentle voice quivers 

-like a limb in a storm 

Restraining- 

The emotion,

 the tears, 

The pain 

Pushing, forcing, nudging-

the resisting floodgates withstand

 

Gently, 

A cool whisper graces upon my ear

Through it I’m reminded of

The ability, 

The necessity, 

The inevitability of emotion.

 

Right there and then they collapse, 

Breaking, falling 

defeated 

The warmth of vulnerability rushes upon my skin 

the final needed release- 

The surrender. 

Range.

 

May 31, 2021 / Lucia Fogler

Range

Attracted by the serenity of the mountains, 

Until I’m at its base 

The hard, jutting surface

Ominously towers over-

Me, the little ant 

How can I conquer this mountain? 

I ask fearfully to the sky above

When its no longer safe 

to climb, it alone

 anymore. 

AfterlightImage-1.jpg
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images

by Zoë 

macgill

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poems for life in isolation.

 

February 12, 2021 / Zoë Macgill

I wrote these poems all throughout various quiet moments I’ve spent at home, because I believe the best work springs forth from the moments in between chaos and cacophony, in between breaths. They are for you, dear reader - I hope you can find a little mantra of peace within these lines. As winter approaches, the months are getting colder and the days are getting longer. We’re able to slip back into our shells - or to reflect on the beauty that is still so present, no matter what’s happening in the world.

be mesmerized

allow yourself 

to see the beauty in things so often unseen. 

for even the most minute details are capable of teaching you something.

embrace these small things—the sound of the rain, the soft morning light, the way the sun still rises after the longest, most brutal night. 

 

be mesmerized.

 

even if your life is tossed and turned by chaos, 

even if your tapestry is fraying at the edges, 

these pinpricks of light still peek through.

 

be mesmerized

by the sweet moments

that mesmerize you. 

-z.m.

an ode to a window

and even if it seems like everything is collapsing around you,

be reminded that the biggest cracks allow the most light to come through.

for a window can’t fulfill its purpose when it is closed,

shrouded in shadow,

waiting to be opened again -

rather, when there is a little extra space between the blinds, 

ready for the Sun to do its wonderful work 

of letting warmth in, 

filling the room

filling you with Light,

restoring you from within.

 

-z.m.

refuge

i hope you know 

Love will always be a refuge.

in the midst of that chaos,

that confusion,

that night -

in the quiet, 

still waiting,

in waters that may feel stagnant -

Love is still moving, constantly.

 

Love is always protecting.

 

i hope you know

Love will always be your refuge.

 

-z.m.

 

gratitude

for the ground beneath my feet

the breath in my lungs, that air so sweet

the sprawling sky above me

the beauty that awaits

 

gratitude

 

for the people around me

some connected by blood,

others by happenstance

all connected by love

 

gratitude

 

for the threads in my tapestry—

the colors of the sunset

and leaves of different trees

and of course, different types 

of tea

 

gratitude

 

for the music that fills me

that courses through my veins

lighting up my veins 

beating alongside my heart

warming my soul, always

 

gratitude

 

for the Savior that has never

stopped loving me

and would go to the ends 

of the earth to hem me in

with His light

 

gratitude

 

-z.m.

 

silence.

 

   Jan. 2nd, 2019 / Anonymous

My canvas shone in shades of black and blue

Cerulean and indigo adorned my shadow

Raven-haired brushes and broken bottles

Banshees emerged from his throat

Their spirits gave life to ones in his glass

 

I loved you still.

 

Piano riffs

Thunderstorms

Cherry jam

Symphonies from next door traveled through the wind

The jazz pumped through the veins of the listeners

 

Our silence was louder.

 

Your voice opened as the front doors closed

Confining our love to the gazes of others

I wished for you to see me

The soul I had fashioned for you

Through pinpricks and thistles

Richer or for poorer

It wasn’t enough

 

I loved you still.

 

The bruises healed

New wounds arose

My canvas turned darker

Deeper blues, emptier blacks

And with the darkness came the desire

I begged you to see me

My tears reached for you

And retreated

 

Crying and fighting

Kicking and screaming

Rising and falling

 

I loved you still.

 

(Inspired by Nina Simone's "Wild is the Wind" &

Zora Neale Hurston's Their Eyes Were Watching God)

the things i can be.

 

April 25th, 2018 / Anonymous

I am a mountain

High in the sky

I am a river

Flowing freely down a stream

In the jungle deep in the jungle

I can be the king of something

Somewhere I matter

Somewhere I feel like I’m worth it

Somewhere society doesn’t matter

I can be alone and think

I can be alone and dream

I can be alone and fly

I can open my eyes and mind

Somehow escaping this matrix I’m stuck in

Where I’m told what to be

In this place I can choose what I am

No Rules and No Norms

I can just be Me

I’ll just follow my own beat

And I’ll make a song no one will forget

I’ll finally be set free

From this matrix I’m stuck in

In a way I think I’ll rule this Jungle

I’ll be the one they’ll look at for hope

I won’t just be some silly guy being told

What to be and what not to be

I’ll follow my beat until I can’t flow anymore

And that beat is in my heart

the hearth.

 

December 3rd, 2018 / Walter Y. McHale

i could spy the hearth roar through the panes

 

it was lively and crackled and spat

 

showers of sparks and piercing tongues

 

intense oranges and bright yellows

 

clashed and flickered against one another

 

i could make out ivy vines curled around the frames

 

evergreen branches and gold objects adorning the sill

 

bathing in the warm light and the heat

 

together acting as a mellow border for the blaze behind the glass

 

as your shiny windows locked with mine i thought to myself

 

from my seat across the room

 

if eyes really are the windows to the soul

 

then i'd love to grace the front step

I'm out of fondness.

 

Dec. 3rd, 2018 / Walter Y. McHale

i'm out of fondness

i'm out of respect

i'm out of persistence

these feelings are void from my chest

a cavity where they once rested is thrashed

no flesh

no bone

only a dark pit where a heart used to be

i should feel anger

any shred would be just and yet

nothing

how can one love and hate simultaneously?

how can i be ensnared by your image

long so desperately for your warmth

and still have nothing

but cold bitterness

for you

for everything

for the circumstances that led this to be

for the time i invested

to no avail of course

and most of all for myself

for being so blind

i feel nothing but remorse for the months i took to rearrange my life

to let you in unimpeded by those that wished to impede

if only i knew in those months

you were turning away from me

the love you felt withering away

leaving me to swing open the door i had shut for those months

filled with joy for the love waiting for me

only to be met with an icy tundra

devoid of heart

soul

and the courage to release me from my chains i so ignorantly bound to you

A waltz. 

(sonnet)

 

March 23rd, 2018 / Anonymous

Love, antiques I was forbidden to touch

It was the whispers of what could have been

It was the night and day and just as much

Stark as doves on black sand, her long lost skin

Love skipped and danced and cried inside my walls

She sat and stayed for dinner every night

Love waltzed with the stars and my mother’s shawls

I was fireproof, her lungs had frostbite

For Love’s breath extinguished fires within

The chess game of torture and tenderness

Men became infernos, enemies, kin

Check, checkmate, pawns fall into the abyss

Love was gold at a glance, pyrite up close

Love was delicate, like a thorny rose

UNTITLED.

 

February 9th, 2018 / Anonymous

Me? -

Blind by my heart  

You? -

Gone from the start

 

Me? -

I just stood still

You? -

An ocean can’t kill

 

No words -

From my lips

And your -

Heart won’t skip

 

Something gone -

Was it there?

 

You’re  -

Lilac rare

My - thick -

Golden hair

 

You -

had me waiting like a bird in midsummer

I -

Had you breaking like the ice meeting water

 

To you -

What was I?

To me -

You were light

 

Try we did -

Was it the end?

 

I hope - someday we will meet again.

Change of pace.

 

April 23rd, 2018 / Anonymous

I dipped my foot in waters blue

Created hints of things that flew

And wrote of one, blent fear and love

Who bound the worlds with feathers through

 

Dissolved myself in words like night

While in my head glowed candlelight

And so immersed had I become

That worlds and stories intertwined

 

I drifted far and far away

And lost a new friend day by day

I wondered why I’m all alone

While sailing off on my own waves

 

But this time I have found a friend

To write in verse and words that blend

Of writing, running, thoughts as poems

And search for truth through beauty’s lense

 

I wonder still at words like stars

And sink through tales of who we are

And grin like sunshine at the hope

Of those in which I have a part.

Running.

 

March 30th, 2018 / Blue

i am running away.

 

running from the tears that don't solve my problems.

running from the ones that hurt me when I try not to hurt them.

running and running, trying to find

someone to trust.

someone to hug.

someone who will listen.

someone who will be the bandage to my wounds.

more wounds, more tears, more running.

more wounds, more pain, keep running.

more wounds, more anger, still running.

 

i want to stop running.

DO THEY RELATE?

 

February 12th, 2018 / Blue

no one can relate

it's a feeling i can't decimate

my mind is always in a debate

i don't know if i will receive

love or hate

no one can relate.

 

my personality is extremely zealous

words flow out unfiltered

people catch on & say "tell us"

how could i be so careless

do i tell them or not?

its arduous.

 

i'm free in my mind

where i can be undefined

but how can i be so blind

society is not confined

behind my back, i feel so maligned

 

but that's just mankind

thinking they are designed

to control fate 

but in fact they cannot because,

 

they. cannot. relate.