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.
images
by Zoë
macgill
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.
