Tag: poetry
Red
by The Cowl Editor on February 1, 2019
Portfolio
by Jay Willett ’20
Red is the rising temperature when I’m alone.
Red isn’t a goodbye; it’s an awakening. When
the dust settles and clears, and the party’s
over, there’s just him.
Red is the pain I’ve come to know all too well,
with his rough edges filled with true loss.
Red is worn, engulfing me throughout my life—
the losses, the tragedies,
blinding me with sharp ruby.
Hard truth: nothing calms me at night.
As I pant in the crimson aggression that crawls
into my life, I slowly choke and sputter on the
flames of intense vermillion,
releasing all of the horror of the night into the
cinnabar day, the blazing sun.
Colors aren’t poetry. Words are.
Self Titled Manifesto 1
by The Cowl Editor on February 1, 2019
Portfolio
by Sam Ward ’21
I got the heaviest skull and the emptiest stomach.
No heart, all construct,
Sans act, more dumb luck. “When it’s
Time to act, will you conquer?” More
Or less a revelation from a
Cowardly lion’s conscience.
Time can heal but can’t unshoot the messages. So
Reload with blanks and try to dilute the atmosphere,
And discuss my travelling fear, like,
“Uhm, it’s not my fault they’re out here.”
And the law of motion attracts
A fickle few, destinies detract.
Ashes to ashes, to make sense of constancy.
Unpredictable futures reject the ideology.
Minimize the gravity and maximize vida
Till, mortem rifts you on the prenup.
Scrutinize the reality and actualize your vita.
Still, mortals thrift you of your freedom.
Fading Love
by The Cowl Editor on January 18, 2019
Portfolio
by Sarah Kirchner ’21
He was filled with questions of “What if?”
Instead of “How are you?”
And so whenever I asked, “Where?”
He answered, “Why?”
Things digressed quickly.
Soon good-morning kisses switched
To low gurgling grunts.
He offered me a pat, if I was lucky enough.
Our home-cooked meals became his leftovers.
The smell of roasting coffee started to burn,
Along with the fire we once shared,
And the spark in his eye couldn’t ignite it anymore.
“How come?” I once asked.
His glare said it all. I knew to quiet down.
But then that night the car started up late,
And I prayed for him to never return.
It has been years since I heard one of his questions,
And since I made meals for two.
The indent in the bed is gone,
But I still listen for his car.
Christmas Poem I
by The Cowl Editor on December 8, 2018
Portfolio
by Sam Ward ’21
Though, first and fifteenth left no guarantee,
Wrapped presents with bows stuck under the tree,
But the sentiment meant so much more to me.
O holy Child of Bethlehem
More than the Xbox or bikes you bought,
The treasures would be for naught,
If it had not been for your careful thought.
Descend to us, we pray
When the snow carries the day away,
I know spirits rise from eternal decay,
A holiday mood not present yesterday.
Cast out our sin and enter in
And when tomorrow comes, hold me still,
Make sure I act with goodwill,
The change does not start on Capitol Hill.
Be born to us today.
Daddy, I Forgive You
by The Cowl Editor on November 30, 2018
Portfolio
by Jessica Polanco ’20
Daddy I forgive you
Although you’ll never get to see my daughters grow
I forgive you
Daddy the worst part is that you don’t know
I wonder if you weren’t sick and didn’t do it would there be more closure
Than your rotten subconscious forcing you to turn over
My kids might never get the courage to face you
Sad that they grow up hating what ain’t you but ate you
Alive
Dammit Dad I thought you had a bit more pride
Then to let it control you to a point of no rewind
Did you plan to see me in heaven
And hated the state you were in every day Execedrin
And Lithium
So you took us with you
In search of freedom
Maybe you took us early to free us from your fate
A genetic disease you wouldn’t want us to relate
But dammit Dad now I’ll never see them grow
Never put their dresses on for their first show
Never tell them what to do when they start liking boys
Can never see them off to prom or a wedding or my grandchildren cut the white noise
I don’t wanna hear it
Rather stay here on this planet just so I could be near it
My babies’ hearts
They need their mom and you pulled us apart
You who gave me life became my exit and my start
As my soul contemplates
On how to make peace with the results
One thing they can never teach us even when we’re adults
How to cope with the results of death in any way or form
But the way we died was the worst possible storm
Far from norm
And still I try and forgive
Remembering the man you were you had so much to give
And in one instance you took it all away
Closure on a paradox the bliss went to dismay
In one day
Your life will never be judged the same
Does it matter how they judged when you did your best to stay sane
It wasn’t your fault
It wasn’t your fault
Neurons and destiny
I just wonder if you wept for me
I can’t breathe
I can’t think
Something’s pulling me up
I don’t wanna leave, try
And open my eyes but they wont blink
Is this the end
As the violin sounds
I see you and mom holding me as a baby
I was only five pounds
But you said she’ll be a trooper nothings going to hold this one back
Sad to see you were the one to erase my path
Pizza for Breakfast
by The Cowl Editor on November 20, 2018
Portfolio
by Sam Ward ’21
Restless nights bear peaceful mornings,
A break from fear via alarm bell warnings.
That’s it, rest easy. I want to take in the moment.
Slip out, brush teeth, unnoticed.
Sun dips through blinds like a golden colander
And days dawdling dimly, seconds lackluster.
But mornings like this one are so right,
Gentle, A.M. breaths, hours in sight.
Dismiss waking you, peaceful is fragile.
Lucky to be, nothing important as this,
Spellbound to dreamscape’s travel,
That I will work up a nerve and break with a kiss.
Climbing clumsily, your covers like a shadow.
Slipped instead, you’re awake.
Real mad, lets out a morning “Hello.”
I will just let the pizza box atone for my mistake.
This is exactly where I’m supposed to be.
Tangible Love
by The Cowl Editor on November 20, 2018
Portfolio
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 Worker Ant
by The Cowl Editor on November 19, 2018
Portfolio
by Garbiela Baron ’20
I am the worker ant.
My job is simple:
provide for my winged majesty and her offspring.
My queen’s size is twice mine.
Fertile, strong, and powerful;
she is vital to the survival of the community.
Today I journey with the troops.
Together: a mighty machine.
Separate: miscellaneous parts.
A predator passes…
we dive into the muddy earth, camouflaged from the enemy.
Will it find me?
Silence—
then the sky erupts with clear droplets.
The bombs shake the earth.
The sun wages war against the clouds,
its rays of light pierce through with victory.
We continue on our journey through the moist ground and find
a new battlefield:
mother and child on a red and white plaid blanket.
They surround a cornucopia of treasure:
an array of Swiss cheese slices, plump plums, and chicken salad sandwiches.
The objective is ahead; the troops take action.
The sunlight disappears, obstructed by a new cloud:
doughy hands hovering over me.
Will I escape unharmed?
One by one the soldiers around me
fall.
I—the last one standing—cannot surrender.
I dodge the offensive,
determined to fight for the colony.
With a crumb on my back I march forward in triumph;
the weight pulls me down
but I keep walking.
I am the worker ant
My job is not simple.
I am vital to the survival of the community.
Syrupy Youth
by The Cowl Editor on November 19, 2018
Portfolio
by Sarah Kirchner ’21
She sits and sips her black coffee,
While he sips on his caramel whip.
It’s been a while since they’ve been back
To the familiar coffee shop of their childhood
Where they shared a first kiss,
And continued after with many dates.
The barista serves the couple
And smiles as he takes the frothy drink.
The feeling of sweet vanilla warms her right up
As if she’s still that same teenager
That was offered the job there long ago
Still serving sweetness with the same old smile.
He watches her from the window
Now turning gray and becoming old.
Years have passed and he’s ordered the same.
He makes sure to get it from her,
Because her blueberry eyes give him
That feeling of young love he never quite knew.
In the coffee shop
There’s a home for many people.
Some lucky ones have it all figured out
While others roam in to try something new.
It’s a feeling of syrupy youth
That can be felt by every soul who enters the room.
Winter Sunrise
by The Cowl Editor on November 19, 2018
Portfolio
by Erin Venuti ’20
Woke before the sun today,
No intent to see it wake.
Eyes
Pry
Open after
Some hours.
Insufficient —
May as well have blinked;
Streetlamps still glow,
Same as last night’s close.
Beyond the window,
Quietly,
Navy
Fades to pale
Blue, sun stretches and exhales.
A yawn breaks free, a hopeful yellow,
Charging the day that’s yet to follow.
I find, midmorning, looking up,
The moon forgot to set.
It peers through
A too-bright blue —
Wistfully, I wonder
If it’s lonely without the stars.
I tell myself not to worry;
Today, the moon has other company.
My day begins and ends with night.
I feel I’ve seen the darkness longer than the light,
‘Cause I woke before dawn, without intent.
But I know: the sun is worth being patient.