Tag: Jessica Polanco ’20
Tangible Love
by The Cowl Editor on November 20, 2018
Poetry
by Jessica Polanco ’20
Everyone claims you’re just as tangible
As a rainbow in the sky
But there’s nothing to see
Just a disappointment in disguise
You creep into my heart
Slowly, you infect my brain
I think they call you LOVE?
But sitting you against royalty
Would be a shame
You make people literally blind
Throw them to the streets to reside
You don’t care
You just laugh and say
“Look at that punk over there,
with a box full of chocolates
And despair.”
Everyone claims you’re tangible
That we can hug you
Take walks with you at the park,
And when we kiss you, we’ll feel a spark
Who named you LOVE anyways?
That name is too beautiful
For a junkie
Who smokes cigarettes
Who drinks whiskey
Who lives nowhere
Who doesn’t care
Everyone claims you’re tangible
And here you are
Kissing me goodbye
The Day I Died About 3 Times
by The Cowl Editor on November 19, 2018
Creative Non-Fiction
by Jessica Polanco ’20
I remember being able to see nothing. It was pitch-black and all I could hear were crickets, moths buzzing near my ear, thunder and branches cracking under my feet. I was surrounded by people I had only met one month ago. We were stuck in the middle of a hiking trail in North Kingstown, Rhode Island. The sun had betrayed us about 40 minutes ago and the only light we had to rely on was the strength of the flashlights of two iPhones.
An hour ago, Irfan was showing Dev and me how to measure the horizon to calculate how many hours we had left before the sun went down. At this moment, everyone insisted on continuing down the trail knowing the rest of it was going to take us like another hour and a half, while I begged them to turn around. I knew the sun was about to set and we would get stuck trying to find our way out. Gracefully, they agreed to turn back.
Irfan was leading the group because he claimed, in his Middle Eastern accent, that he got us, he had done this a million times back when he lived in Afghanistan. I believed him, until we lost the dots on the trees ahead of us and we almost landed in the pond near us. In my head, I was praying to God to guide us, but out loud all I could say was, “We’re going to be okay right guys!?” Everyone seemed to be pretty nonchalant, even after getting off trail so I decided to hide my anxiety. I chose to put all my trust in my friends. I didn’t know how we were going to get out of the woods at that very moment but somehow, I knew we would get out, even if it meant waiting for the sun to give us light.
Anthony, who stood in the back of the pack, remembered which way to go. Don’t ask me how he remembered what pile of branches were the right ones to lead the way. I guess it was a good idea to mark every tree that stood at every mile we walked and placed water bottles to remind us when it was time to turn around. Thankfully, we were back on track and I was able to see the dots on the trees again. This time we followed the guide on the hike trail app.
“Did you guys hear that?” Tyler whispered into our ears.
I tried to listen closely over all the bugs who wouldn’t shut up.
“What did you hear Tyler?” I asked.
“Those gun shots.”
“Yeah, I heard them too,” claimed Anthony.
Everyone seemed to hear them, except for me.
“Um, what?” I said, “Are you sure that’s not just the thunder we heard earlier?”
“No Jess, I grew up in the hood where I was forced to learn the difference, I know those were gun shots,” Anthony reminded me.
I began to panic. Plans A through Z ran through my head. How the hell are we going to get out of here? All of my power to control my destiny kept slipping away. What if those people with the guns had planned to close us in once we were driving up to the trail? What if they had known we were the only ones in those woods? Did they know we were unprotected? Irfan witnessed me panic in silence, he knew I wasn’t built for this lifestyle so he yelled, “Alright, alright guys, come on, Jess is going crazy, let’s chill out and focus.” I admired the fact that Irfan was looking out for me, and most importantly that he made an effort to keep me from worrying. I admired it even more when the rest of my friends did too. I wasn’t sure if they were recollecting their sanity just for me or for the sake of their own fear. Whatever it was, my heart accepted their kindness and my instincts assured me I’d be fine.
We kept walking and every time someone’s foot landed I heard their breaths getting louder and louder. Every bone that belonged to the bottom of my leg kept begging me to stop but all I could focus was on the end goal; the end of this trail. I still couldn’t see anything, Irfan was in front of me and my grip to his shirt kept getting tighter and tighter. I held on like my life depended on it. My left leg let go of the ground and when it landed on the wooden bridge built over the tiny pond, I felt the ground shake. I screamed out of exhaustion of thinking that I reached the end of my life. Irfan laughed, “Sorry Jess, I should’ve warned you the bridge was wobbly. You’re fine don’t worry!” I slapped his back in a friendly way, I hated him for not warning me. He knew I was scared as hell. As I began to recollect my breath, I looked up and saw my car. I rubbed my eyes to see that I wasn’t hallucinating. We finally made it to the end. I hurried to the driver seat, remembering we heard gun shots forty minutes ago. Everyone jumped into the car trying to warn the mosquitos that we would kill them if they tried to jump in with us, and we hurried on out of there.
Halloween Haikus
by The Cowl Editor on October 25, 2018
Features
TickTok TickTok Tick
I feel it running after me
Its breath on my neck.
—Jessica Polanco ’20
I can’t feel myself.
No one hears me talk to them
Is this death for me?
—Connor Zimmerman ’20
I hear a shuffle
And a chill goes down my back
All I see are eyes
—Sam Pellman ’20
It lived in Mary’s room
Mom blamed imagination
But I felt its breath
—Julia Zygiel ’19
Late October thoughts
Of pumpkin pies, sugar highs,
Warm nostalgic hearts.
—Erin Venuti ’20
Aura of horror:
Ghosts, witches, black cats are nigh.
The best time of year.
—Sam Ward ’21
The Price You Pay
by Andrea Traietti on October 18, 2018
Poetry
by Jessica Polanco ’20
I am now destined to feed strangers.
Those who once knew me
Lost every trace of trust;
That has been lost in the dark skies
Under which I begged for all of this to become my reality.
To one day wake up in black, silk satin sheets—
And today, they cover my back as I stare
At the chandelier that glares
From the eyes of a man I married in the middle of this journey
Because we were once both teenagers,
At each end of this country waking up in the middle of the night
Hungry and in agony.
We dreamt of being served
Platinum platters of
Bedazzled seafood
And delicious-filled intentions.
He just married me to serve looks to the public,
And I said I do
For the same reasons, too.
This mansion is filled
With maids who don’t know my childhood name;
These marbled floors,
This view of the mountains resting on the ocean,
And this diamond ring
Is evidence
That you can die in heaven.
I’ve purified my hands
By the holiest of seas
But when the water slips
Through the cracks of my fingers,
I hear every soul I’ve abandoned to get where
I needed to be.
I hear my best friend saying
She doesn’t know who I am anymore.
My sister asks me if she even knew me at all.
From miles away, I trace
The voice of the boy who I love.
Tonight, he’s in bed with his back to his wife
Because I’ve broken all that he can be.
I stroll through the evergreen garden with a view
Of the reddest roses you’ll ever see
And feel my mother against my skin
Reminding me
That she is ashamed of me.
—
The corners of my eyes witness
A gallery of trophies
With my name shining on each edge,
And colorful books stacked
Stored with my truths.
I place one foot in front of the other
And carry out this burdensome pride
Into my Bentley coupe
And drive into the sunset
That kisses the 90210 city line.
God’s Nationality
by Andrea Traietti on September 27, 2018
Creative Non-Fiction
by Jessica Polanco ’20
I thought I had it all figured out—until I figured it out. I was only about twelve years old when I met Aylin. Her demeanor was that of an older woman who’d just finished dying her white hair to black just so her wisdom wouldn’t show so much. Aylin was twelve, too. From what I can remember, this was the day I met my soul sister.
Aylin was tall. She always walked with her chin up and somehow always knew what to say. I liked having her as a friend because she introduced me to Dominican rituals, and something called Bible Study. I knew several Dominican rituals already, but I guess I didn’t know all of them until I met her. And I’d heard of Church, too, but I had never visited a church that was in a basement. She invited me over to her neighbor’s house one day and I went, but only because she mentioned there’d be food. When we arrived, we passed by the kitchen, where the scent of Dominican-style yellow rice and beans cooking wafted up, only to run away when we entered the basement.
I was greeted warmly by wearied eyes and welcoming hands, but all I could hear was “Welcome to the House of Christ.” House of Christ? I questioned in my head. Well this is kind of a shitty place to house a King. I’d been to churches before but never any with seven-foot ceilings, people dressed like they were homeless, and a division between the seating of women and men. Yeah, for some reason they believed men and women were a distraction to each other during Bible Study. I disagreed…until the pastor started preaching and all I could do was stare at a young, beautiful boy across the aisle. Reminding myself that I was only twelve, I shifted my focus back to the six-and-a-half-foot dark-skinned man sitting in front of us. I honestly don’t even know how my thoughts could go astray because when this man spoke, it felt like he was piercing my soul. This was definitely a different style of preaching I was experiencing for the first time. It sounded like he was just talking. I actually enjoyed it because it felt like he was talking to me directly. And the most intriguing part of it all was that he actually expected us to respond to him, almost like a conversation. This made me feel awkward, of course. I didn’t know anyone in the underground room except Aylin. However, I had appreciated being challenged out loud. I was nervous, no doubt, but everyone around me was patient and knew I was just meeting Christ for the first time.
After the service, I was happy to finally be able to taste the cooking I could only smell before. Along with the intake of delicious food, there was mingling throughout the room. I remember a man approached me, asking if I wanted to accept Jesus into my heart. I felt like it would have been impolite to say no, so I said yes. He asked me a series of questions and I replied…mostly truthfully. Sometimes I lied about my answers because they were still secrets for the universe. When he finished, he said to me, “You’re a Sinner, and the only one who can save you is Jesus. Do you accept Jesus into your heart as your Lord and Savior?” Of course, I said yes, I mean, who doesn’t want to be saved from their wrongdoings? He smiled at me and asked if he could hug me. We exchanged hugs, and when he walked away, I felt the pressure of everyone’s eyes and smiles directed at me. I just made a pretty serious commitment today, I thought to myself.
Growing up, I was always awakened by a peaceful knock on my soul—a beautiful voice singing Spanish gospel songs and reciting Bible verses. My grandma had been a believer of Christ for as long as I could remember. She would always remind me of the Ten Commandments and tell me what God could do for me in my life. Sometimes she dragged me to church with her and made me sing on stage. (Thank God there were better singers standing next to me who could actually sing because I would’ve broken all the glass in that building!)
I always thought God was Latino until I visited Bible Study in the basement with Aylin. God was definitely not Latino up in this basement, and he sure wasn’t demanding either. In that basement, God felt like a friend. God taught me how to read His word properly, how to worship like a Believer, and how to save people using the same technique that gentleman used with me my first day. Although I grew up with a Latino God, I liked Black God too.
An Invitation
by Andrea Traietti on September 13, 2018
Poetry
by Jessica Polanco ’20
Sweet, was the Sunday I remembered
Like a feather, I laid
On the indulgences of quietness
And joy
A black bird approached my presence
Told me I’d never forget this day
Because it was the day you passed away
Everything related to all I knew
Everything related to me gone and flew
Away from me, with no warning
Only an invitation
A black bird approached my presence
With her angelic eyes
Told me I’d never forget this day
Sweet, was the day
I remembered the greatest gift
It was the only decision I ever had to make
Sweet, was the day I remembered
To live a gracious life
To smile with innocence poured,
In the crease on my dimples
Sweet, was the day I remembered
You introduced me to your biggest intention
To live a warm intent-full life
Sweet, was the day you wanted us to remember
Every second,
Time is drowning down our souls
Reminding us
The only decision we were born to make was to live the sweetest life.
It Just Happens
by Andrea Traietti on August 30, 2018
Poetry
by Jessica Polanco ’20
Everyone dreads the feeling,
But they truly never know what it feels like.
It isn’t even a feeling,
It’s just something that happens.
When you get over an argument,
You don’t even remember the exact time you did
But you did.
And it just happened.
When something dries up,
After getting wet,
It eventually dries.
And it just happens.
The moon rose this evening,
It stood next to the sun,
It tried stealing it’s spotlight,
Until it finally did.
And it just happened.
When autumn trickles in,
Even though they say it’s on the 21st,
We never know exactly when because
It kind of just happens.
When we want it to,
When we don’t want it to,
And when it’s least expected,
Change happens.
All the time.
Beautifully.
Traffic
by The Cowl Editor on April 26, 2018
Portfolio
by Jessica Polanco ’20
T: Today and yesterday, it took me 66 hours to travel home. The commute is regularly a couple seconds but lately there’s been traffic in the way.
R: Really? Why would you cut me off knowing we’re all bumper to bumper. No room to move and you decide to interrupt my peace.
A: Amazingly, you come out of nowhere without me asking for you. I hit my brakes and I’m confronted with a heavy force that pulls me forward. You have my full attention.
F: Full attention. Can you end? I’m tired of this drag, it takes over my energy and it puts an end to my journey that makes me want to nag. It’s like pausing the wind just because the rain needs time to pass.
F: FULL ATTENTION. Everything is still. You’ve got my full attention. Can you end? All my energy is attracted to this situation. My car is claustrophobic. It can’t move. It can’t move. Please move. I can’t move.
I: I can’t move forward. I’m stuck in this point of view because of you. You paused my time, my time is guided towards you. What do you need, what are your intentions? Can you please let me move?
C: Claustrophobically, I meditate in peace. The time is the present. The traffic is my time, I move with your presence.
Kisses from a Dove
by The Cowl Editor on April 12, 2018
Portfolio
by Jessica Polanco ’20
The silence of the wind is the bed that I sleep on. The language of the waves assure me they are singing my favorite song. Someday I will find the courage to ask them to show me how to play the instruments they use. The body movement of the trees give motion to my favorite rhythm. My bucket list has “join their dance team” as number three. The wood stands tall and still, but you can tell by their eyes that they are enjoying the tune. Eye contact secured our similar thoughts in feeling liberate but still caged in self-restrictions. I wish I could remember who kindly invited me to this party. Hoping I will be asked to join again, already losing patience to feel the pulse of the wilderness in great relief. The lullaby of the wind bewildered my eyes with joy creating a flood in my soul, permanently stamping its melody in my ears. As the party was coming to an end I am influenced by the pure white dove in the sky. I blow a kiss, and I catch it, storing it in my heart.
Soulmate
by The Cowl Editor on February 8, 2018
Portfolio
by Jessica Polanco ’20
Twelve years later I still remember the first day we met. Starting that day, there were no battles I had to face alone ever again, no laughter not shared and no tears not collected and restored with faith and hope.
Since then, because of you, my days always had a bright star illuminating every experience and even though there were times when it rained and poured, under the sun, there were you with an umbrella dodging every drop. Your loyalty has shielded our friendship and my heart to make me feel like I’m not alone in this world.
12 years later I’ve grown to love everything about who you are. Two persons who are completely different are bound to learn how to love a garden that’s constantly growing with beautiful different flowers we never thought we’d lay eyes on. When the seasons were never in our favor and our skies were black and white, you lent me your stem to lean on and after a long day, it was surprisingly all my heart needed.
In the next 12 years, may the storms hydrate our flowers and our loyalty give strength to our friendship.
Aunque hamos pasado tormentas y hamos sentido que la conexión se has rodado en un hilito, eres un regalo del cielo y le doy la gracias al Mas Alto por esta amistad. Por ti has sentido un amor que le das alas a mi corazón cada mañana.
Although we’ve experienced storms, and we’ve felt that the connection has been dragged on a string, you are a gift from heaven and I thank the Most High for this friendship. Because of you, I have felt a love that gives wings to my heart every morning.
—For Ashley Alvarez