Tag: poetry
A Fall From You
by The Cowl Editor on March 3, 2019
Portfolio
by Sarah Kirchner ’21
It seemed as if it was another day
Of rolling out of bed with a bad start,
I know why it’s been this way.
Ever since I lost my work of art.
It was you who made me want to live,
And made me feel like a sun inside.
I pushed further because you were my drive.
You saw the potential, even though I denied.
But soon that feeling disappeared.
The sun you made became like dust,
And I became the person I feared.
And I started to wonder, what happened to trust?
You know you lost it all
Just like I lost you
Because you wanted to see a fall
And got lost in the view.
As My Eyes Quiver
by The Cowl Editor on March 3, 2019
Portfolio
by Kiley McMahon ’20
The smell of alcohol lingers on his breath,
and the cup that he has just poured is caffeinated.
The two will wire him up to the greatest extent,
not that he needs to be any more excited.
My eye quivers,
it is still black and blue,
and the back of his fist,
remains of purple descent.
I have a disposable phone,
and my children,
ready to go.
He leaves for work,
drunk and caffeinated,
one final sloppy kiss,
and a grinning remark,
that I can no longer understand.
My final goodbyes,
are a blessing in disguise.
I move on my merry way,
away from black eyes,
and away from bloody,
purple fists.
Food for Thought
by The Cowl Editor on March 3, 2019
Portfolio - Poetry
by Sarah Heavren ’21
Mashed potatoes taste better with some lumps.
Granola tastes better with a few clumps.
French fries taste better when they are crinkled.
Raisins taste better when they are wrinkled.
Potato chips taste better when they have grooves.
Sometimes chunky can taste better than smooth.
Milkshakes taste better when they are quite thick.
S’mores taste better when the marshmallow sticks.
Pizza tastes better when the cheese bubbles.
Most pies taste better when the crust crumbles.
Brownies taste better when they are gooey.
Bread tastes better when it’s warm and chewy.
Ice cream tastes better when it melts and drips.
Cream tastes better when it’s over-whipped.
Overall, the parts of life that are best
Can be imperfect or can make a mess.
Sorry
by The Cowl Editor on March 3, 2019
Portfolio
by Erin Lucey ’20
“I will not let you down again,” I say as I hang up the phone.
But how can I know that I am the one,
Viciously destroying each and every ounce of progress,
When all I am trying to do is heal?
I hope that one day you will realize,
That nothing I’ve done was ever meant to harm you.
And when you finally see it,
Can you show me?
Guilt is a funny thing.
Just when you finally free yourself,
From its excruciating grasp,
You wind up running back,
Reaching, stretching with eager arms.
Love Advice Haikus
by The Cowl Editor on February 14, 2019
Portfolio
Love Advice Haikus
Flowers, lovers, greed.
Never had it but a dream.
Smoked, woked, make believe.
by Jay Willett ’20
If you are unsure
with what to do. Trust yourself,
And follow your heart.
by Sarah Kirchner ’21
Someday near or far,
I know that I will find you,
somewhere close or not.
by Kiley McMahon ’20
Did eyes connect? Blink.
Time, skip validation, think.
Love wields the senses.
by Sam Ward ’21
El Refresco De Un Cariño
by The Cowl Editor on February 14, 2019
Portfolio
by Jessica Polanco ’20
To survive a little longer,
Gather all of the ingredients
That bring you life.
Set the stove at a low temperature,
Place the smallest pot above it with
A small amount of precipitation.
Once it all hydrates
Sprinkle the last bit of hope in your soul.
Next,
Invite the love of your life over and
Sprinkle the fear that whispers through his eyes
Allow the hope to burn,
Let the fear steam
Until you feel the heat
Against your skin.
Then,
Add a gallon of the treasure that finds itself locked up in your touch,
And ask your partner to pour out the last cup of passion
That he still stores in his ribs
Until it comes to a boil.
Add a pinch of the cariño that hides in the hugs,
And share a kiss before adding it into the pot.
Gather two cups,
And when you feel the steam against your heart,
Then you will know it’s time to pour it all out,
Equally amongst the uneven mugs,
And you can enjoy the warmth of the refreshment.
Gone For Valentine’s Day
by The Cowl Editor on February 14, 2019
Portfolio
by Sarah Kirchner ’21
It was supposed to be a better day
A day of love and a feeling of happiness
But then he disappeared.
He left me alone for another girl.
Days were spent being each other’s.
Together we were strong, or at least I thought.
It felt like we could do anything,
Our love filled a room and made me believe.
I believed in a love that he created
With late night talks that ended with him
Holding me tight and a feeling of home.
For two years, he was my person.
He was my Valentine.
He was the world that I was living for,
And I know that wasn’t right.
I needed to live for myself
And be the better person I was before him.
This year, I’ll be my own Valentine,
And he can have her and be happy again.
He’ll be happier than he was with me,
But I’ll be happier too. I’ll be strong.
I’ll be my own, without him.
Knots
by The Cowl Editor on February 8, 2019
Portfolio
by Sarah Heavren ’21
My soul is twisted and tangled like a knot.
There are parts that hang while other parts are taut.
My emotions and feelings are a jumble.
When trying to untangle, my fingers fumble.
There is no beginning and there is no end.
It’s one giant mess that I can’t understand.
I can’t see the knot as a collective whole.
I only see each distinct fault in my soul.
I need someone’s fingers nimbler than mine
To undo my twists and straighten out my line.
Who can I trust to look beyond my tangles
And see my soul is not completely mangled?
Who will be patient enough to take the time
To work with me through this mess of mine?
Who will be willing to be gentle, not rough
When trying to work through the parts that are tough?
Who is able to see me as more than this mess,
As more than just my emotional distress?
Who will use the purest love and truth and light
To untangle the depths of my soul just right?
Final Score
by The Cowl Editor on February 8, 2019
Portfolio
by Grace O’Connor ’22
I woke up wishing I was still asleep
It was a cold November morning
A shiver went through my body
My Yankee blanket not even keeping me warm
I don’t have the motivation to wake up
I stare at the blue walls around me
I won’t be waiting for the last bell
I won’t be hearing the ball bouncing
I won’t feel my sweat-stained shirt stick to my skin
I won’t get to feel the excitement of scoring
Oh how much I miss this
The crowd cheering is non-existent
The buzzing of the scoreboard is not pure happiness
How could something I love seem impossible to do again
The blue and white pride seems pointless
I’m not on top anymore
I don’t want to think about basketball
My life was supposed to be a score but instead was a miss
Now I am here unable to move from my bed
Upwards of Ten Thousand Feet
by The Cowl Editor on February 8, 2019
Creative Non-Fiction
by Kiley McMahon ’20
As we continued upwards of ten thousand feet,
the vehicle’s engine roared loudly in my ears.
The GoPro stuck to his head recorded my every motion, reaction, and feeling.
My fingers turned to ice through the tips of my gloves.
Thoughts of loved ones raced through my mind.
What would happen if something went wrong?
Would my soul care for my loved ones if the worst occurred?
My future was in his hands.
Why was he being so nonchalant about the possibility of death?
As we climbed to the edge,
butterflies danced in my stomach.
As we jumped,
my thoughts escaped my mind upwards of ten thousands beats per second.
My heart raced and my palms sweated through my gloves.
I flew through the air,
just as an eagle,
searching for its prey.
As I stared in utter disbelief
at the Swiss Alps,
which I had learned about in class,
but never dreamt about flying over,
my palms sweated through my institute given gloves,
upwards of ten thousand feet.
My life is a fantasy,
and I am just living it.
Upwards of ten thousand feet.