by trogers5 on April 8, 2022

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Poetry

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Marelle Hipolito ’22

There is wet sand stuck in my wet hair. 

There is wet sand stuck in my sweatshirt, and in between my toes, 

 

but I don’t care.

I’m busy looking up at the night sky with you,

rooting for a shooting star.

 

Not many things have been going our way.

Life has been lonely, and it has not been fair.

 

Maybe making a wish will turn things around. 

 

There is wet sand stuck in my wet hair. 

There is wet sand stuck in my sweatshirt, and in between my toes, 

 

But I don’t care. 

I’m looking up at the night sky with you,

Rooting for a shooting— 

 

OH! LOOK! Did you see that? 

A beautiful, bright shooting star!

 

It was quick as a blink, but unmistakable, 

A beautiful, bright shooting star!

I turn to tell you to make a wish

But then I remember 

 

that you are not here.

 

So I turn back around 

And I wish

it was not just me, alone,

With wet sand stuck in my wet hair.

by The Cowl Editor on February 17, 2022

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Poetry

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by Marelle Hipolito ’22

It was a Thursday morning when the second grade substitute went through the roster.  

“Lianne?” Yes, that’s me. But that’s my first name. I go by Marelle, my middle name.  

 

That afternoon I asked my mother why. “Mama, why am I called Marelle? Everyone at school goes by their first name. Shouldn’t I go by Lianne?” My mother smiled. “No, you should go by Marelle. ‘Marelle’ means Mary in Hebrew. ‘Mary,’ the Mother of God. I honor the Mother of God by naming my daughter Marelle. You honor her, you pray to her by being called Marelle.”  

 

I was proud to go by Marelle. It was unique, it was pretty, it was faithful. I honored Mary by writing my name in the Sunday service volunteer list. I prayed for my friends who were hurting by signing their get well card “Marelle.” I celebrated the Mother of God in being Marelle, the theology major.  

 

One afternoon, I asked our priest to pray for me. “Hello, Father. Can I ask you to please pray for me? I had a really rough day today.” The priest laughed. “Come on, Marelle. Just get over whatever happened today; one bad day is nothing to pray about. Pray about things that really matter.” 

  

I was proud to go by Marelle. But not anymore. It was naive, it was too trusting, it was hurting. Each time I wrote my name I drew a question mark after the second “e” with my eyes. I signed my initials when I emailed the service director, telling her I was no longer available to serve on Sundays. I put my last name down in the document to switch my major. I didn’t want to honor Mary. The people who prayed to her only dishonored me.  

 

It was a Monday when the professor went through the roster.  

“Lianne?” Yes, that’s me.  

 

by trogers5 on January 27, 2022

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Creative Non-Fiction

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Marelle Hipolito ’22

 

So dull was the class today that I drew a house. It had a white picket fence. The grass was green and the flowers radiated life. It had five windows, four squares in between maroon brick walls, and one circle inviting a peak of sunlight into the second floor. My pen ink was black, so I could only imagine it, but the door was yellow, yellow, so bright and yellow.

 

So yellow was the door that all the neighbors talked about it. “Their door is so yellow! Do you know why? All of our houses’ doors are blue and dark brown; theirs does not match and it changes the whole neighborhood. Where do they come from? Why are they here? How are they okay with such a different door? Looking at it is like staring at the sun!” 

 

So many were the neighborly questions that I started to question, too. Why is it bad that our door is as yellow as the sun? Their doors are as blue as the sky and as dark as the earth; together our neighborhood could be the world. How is it so different? Our door opens and closes, just like their doors. It’s in the middle of the house under a circle window and with two square windows on either side, just like their houses. The grass is green and has flowers, just like their lawns. 

 

So dull the questions made me that I finished my drawing. I drew curtains over all five windows, with the circle taking back its invitation to the light. I shaded splinters on the white picket fence, and I curved the stems on the flowers to make them face down. I didn’t have much ink left, and since it was only black, I could only imagine it, but the door was blue and dark brown, just like the rest of the neighborhood. 

by The Cowl Editor on November 4, 2021

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Poetry

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by Marelle Hipolito ’22

 

I ate some fried chicken yesterday

It tasted good to eat my worries away 

I saw my friend in the hallway 

But I hit a locker and it took my breath away

I went to stats, we had a happy frappy

Made me realize that my life was so crappy 

 

But it’s alright 

And it’s okay

’Cause I ordered chicken and it’s on the way

 

I love the fried chicken delivery boy

He’s got a look that could bring me some joy

But I don’t even pay attention to his face

Just the chicken he’s holding that’s good for my plate

 

Fried chicken tastes so good

It always brings up my mood 

It’s the only reason for me to run

Because eating chicken is just too fun

 

I met a boy a few days ago

Worth a million boxes of cookie dough 

I found him on Instagram, oh lord, God bless

I tried to follow him but he ignored my request

 

But it’s alright

And it’s okay

’Cause I ordered chicken and it’s on the way

 

My friend Caitlin and I were parking, I thought we had some space

But I’m blind and we hit another car like a slap in the face 

Later in the shower I tried to change the song 

Lesson learned: phones and toilets don’t get along 

 

Had a physics test where I was barely alive

Legit I didn’t study, I got a 25 

It’s okay though, ’cause I took a nap

And found peace in a chicken wrap

 

But each night when I went home

I was never ever alone

Because I ate fried chicken all those days 

And my worries went away

by The Cowl Editor on October 7, 2021

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Poetry

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by Marelle Hipolito ’22

Music seeps through the brick wall

“It’s too loud!” I bang in response. 

Music grows louder and louder

My patience shrinks smaller and thinner

and it’s back and forth for a while.

Monday Tuesday Wednesday,

bang bang bang

I’m drowned out by the music!

I have no choice, 

I learn to live with the noise. 

I numb it out, until one specific day

when in the music through the brick wall

I hear Eric’s voice:

“What’ll you do when you’re lonely?”

I drop my pen, my work put to the side 

It’s been years since I heard that song

it brought back memories and turned back time. 

I listen to Eric beg, as he drops down to his knees

he sounds as desperate as when I asked you not to leave. 

“Like a fool, I fell in love with you”

since you played Layla on the piano & turned my whole life upside down

the chords sting, it’s rooting me in place 

my tears are in vain, and they make me sing along and cry out. 

bang bang bang

“you’re too loud!” they yell in response

as the music gets quieter and quieter

the absence of you gets stronger and louder,

but we have no choice

like Layla like Eric 

we have to live with the noise.

 

by The Cowl Editor on September 30, 2021

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Poetry

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by Marelle Hipolito ’22

 

flight delayed, NYC heavy rains

“sit tight,” the pilot said.

I sit tight and look out the window

It’s a cloudy night

I sit tight and look at the people in the seats around me

Business suit, foot tapping anxiously

Khaki shorts, humming a song softly

And just like me, you wore ripped jeans.

one hour of sitting tight under the heavy rain

the pilot says: “never mind…we gotta deplane!

come back to the gate in another hour

hopefully by then it’s just light showers”

We all stand up, and I see your face

In the center of dark straight hair

Eyes dark from sitting tight

We all exit the gate and go our separate ways.

Yet somehow you and I go to the same restaurant, tables 7 & 8 

Ten minutes later, after you order and then I do

We hear over the microphone: “everyone, the weather cleared up! Come back to gate 2!”

You and I look at each other, down our drinks and take our food to go

And we both go sprinting to the gate, to board & go to different homes

Once we are seated, between the business suit and the khaki shorts

We look at each other, laugh and smile, and then we fly.

Once we land, before I noticed, I lose you at baggage claim

Oh stranger wearing ripped jeans on the plane

I can’t wait to tell this story, I wish I got your name

 

by Elizabeth McGinn on May 6, 2021

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Poetry

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by Marelle Hipolito ’22

the sun is shining
the blades of grass are dancing
your playlist is playing
but you are missing

the flowers are blooming
the birds are flying
your guitar solo is playing
but you are missing

it’s a beautiful day outside
we are all here together, it’s pretty nice
but there’s something not right
you are missing, i’m not alright

you are missing out on the beautiful weather outside
you are missing out on being here with us because there’s something missing in you inside
and i can’t help you fix you because I’m just here outside
let me in let me in let me in, i miss you and i want you to be alright

the sun is shining
but i am crying
you are missed and you are missing
inside and outside

the flowers are blooming
but i am dying
i’m missing you being by my side
let me help you, let me inside

 

by Elizabeth McGinn on April 22, 2021

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Poetry

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by Marelle Hipolito ’22

i hate the way the rush came all at once and you felt like air when i couldn’t breathe
i hate the way i feel so loved when you look at me
i hate the way you make all my worries and anxieties go away
i hate that i’ve revolved around you ever since the day you came
i hate how open and real i am around you, how i don’t have to put up a front ever at all
i hate how when the nightmares start, it’s you i want to call
i hate how much you are a part of me, how much i have broken down and cried
i hate that every time you’re not around, a piece of me dies 

in all my hate around you, i love how every hate is a lie
because looking back, even though i’m sad, you were the still best time of my life

i love the way you check me when i’m getting out of line
i love the way you know i’m not okay when i say that i’m fine
i love how you play with my hair and tell me what i mean to you
i love how you are proud and support me in all that i do
i love how you learn and listen to the things that are important to me
i love the way i do vice versa, how it’s almost like it’s meant to be
i love the way i didn’t look for you, how you just showed up one day
i love the way we’re everything the other needed, how we’re both here to stay 

in all i love about you, i hate how we could never be more
but if you ever change your mind at any time…you know i’m always yours

 

by Elizabeth McGinn on April 15, 2021

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Poetry

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by Marelle Hipolito ’22

The flashbacks come back in a blur
All the good times, and the ones that hurt
Every phone call and basketball game
Each smile and each touch of pain 

But when the rain starts to pour down hard
I wash myself clean from all the scars
And move on to the next chapter of my life
But I leave you behind, a letter unsigned 

I gave you everything I was
All I had without a pause
It hurts that I’m always the first to make amends
It hurts cause we’re so close to the end

I used to go through photographs of times we laughed
And when we bet on the NBA draft
But I don’t feel the need anymore
To sing that song we sang with the windows down
Cry like when I told you about my hometown because
That’s all behind a closed door

And now when the rain starts to pour down hard
I trust that time will heal all my scars
And move on to the next chapter of my life
But I leave you behind
And your letter, now signed 

 

by Elizabeth McGinn on February 11, 2021

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Poetry

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by Marelle Hipolito ’22

Tuck my hair behind my ear, just one more time
Before we leave this October beach behind
Let’s look for one more shooting star
Before you go and break my heart
Take a hundred pictures of me in front of a blue sky
Before you drop another goodbye
Tell me you love me, just one more time
Before we leave this October beach behind 

Skip a few rocks, just one more time
Before we leave this October beach behind
Write me a letter, with a Valentine’s rhyme
Before signing it “this is goodbye”
Call me up in the middle of the night
Confess you miss me, that you’re not alright
Send me a playlist, make it John Mayer
Then text me “listen to it all,” then call me later
Become my world and flood my life
Before we leave this October beach behind