Tag: poetry
The Fried Chicken Song
by The Cowl Editor on November 9, 2017
Poetry
by Marelle Hipolito ’21
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 water 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
The Dark
by The Cowl Editor on November 2, 2017
Poetry
by Erin Lucey ’20
I never knew I was afraid
But when the lights dimmed, the darkness stayed.
Did it happen all at once?
Or was I simply unaware
Until I suddenly awoke and could find nothing there.
I remember the light,
And the colors that screamed with fearless delight.
But the memories of the middle are nowhere to be found,
And the sharpness of the black is all too profound.
Was the light simply a dream?
From which I returned with a bloodcurdling scream?
If it is not existent—so far from real,
Then why do I crave it with a blaring zeal?
Searching for the switch, the dial, or power,
But every moment feels like a darker hour.
Is it possible that this shadow will eventually fade?
Though until now, I never knew I was afraid.
As They Stroll On By
by The Cowl Editor on November 2, 2017
Poetry
by Kiley McMahon ’20
As the tears fall from my solemn blue eyes,
and as the children stroll on by,
their guardians look at me,
for they know my secret.
Their lingering stares
melt my mind,
for they are truly forever engrained.
The lifeless soul
looks back at me,
as I relive the moment,
continuously.
The first stab,
my heart runs its course,
at one hundred miles per minute.
The second stab,
my heart aches,
for the pain feels too good.
I cannot stop,
for the adrenaline is too much.
With each kill,
I become more and more power hungry.
As I stand lifeless next to this deceased body,
whose name is unknown to me,
I watch individuals stroll on by,
and I realize that I need help.
As the children smile,
wearing their sweet,
content smiles,
I am aware that I need guidance,
as soon as possible.
I need aid,
as I stand lifeless,
in front of this body,
whose name is unknown to me.
Sincerely,
Anonymous
Halloween Haikus
by The Cowl Editor on October 26, 2017
Poetry
“Dev missed school today.”
“He missed it yesterday, too.”
“So HE was the bait.”
—Julia Zygiel ’19
A jagged smile smirks.
Hollowed eyes stare in the dark.
It’s a frightful sight.
—Marisa Gonzalez ’18
The sky grows foggy
Black monsters leave their dark caves
To torment again!
—Sam Pellman ’20
It was time for mail
The letter read Rest In Peace
In giant letters
—Jess Polanco ’20
Autumn’s costume show
Hides from careless grins the truth:
You will all grow up.
—Jonathan Coppe ’18
Falling Out Of Old Habits
by The Cowl Editor on October 19, 2017
Poetry
by Sam Pellman ’20
Just as the seasons change it is only right that we should too.
Following close behind Summer is Fall ready to show the world its charm.
Yet the beginning of Fall doesn’t mean the end of bliss.
It means a chance to restart and get a grip on life.
With each leaf that falls off the trees comes a new opportunity.
An opportunity to fall out of old habits and create new ones.
Fall is a time to let go of anything in the past that is stopping you from moving forward.
To embrace Fall is to let yourself fall.
Throw away any toxic thoughts or people just as the trees throw away their leaves.
Let the cool air hit your face and allow you to feel alive again.
Take in the smells of cinnamon, spices, apples, and pumpkins
And let go of the ocean mists and the smoky smell of late night bonfires for a little bit.
Hear the wind whistle and the leaves crunch.
And understand that this wind carries a choice you can take to change your routines.
Each season only lasts for so long; this new start to your life may be short-lived, so enjoy it while it lasts.
It’s unnatural for something to stay the same for too long…
Both seasons and humans need constant change and different experiences.
But remember Summer will find its way back again.
But this time you’ll look forward to the start of Fall.
Because you know it’s your short time to simply start over and let yourself finally fall.
In-Between
by The Cowl Editor on October 19, 2017
Poetry
by Jessica Polanco ’20
If I had to choose between the moon and the sun
I would choose to stay in-between. I would make believe that the skies in my world
Can stay gray forever. I would swim in belief that the night and day are no home for my soul.
Although it shines bright, the sun and the light
It just doesn’t seem right to fly alone with so much wisdom in things that only a few people know.
The anxiety to share this gift overtakes my mind, but knowing no one will understand, holds me back.
Something so powerful, yet so worthless.
The true meaning of life equals no treasure at all, knowing everything means being a master at knowing nothing.
The sun and the light, it blinds one person into a box.
Others who know share similar dialect that call this place home,
Makes them feel whole but isolated from what the future holds.
They realize that the reality is unknown.
Night, where nothing is bright.
The dot of light brings hope in these lives that share so much pain.
The only goal known in the life obtained,
Is survival.
Muppets mesmerized by dead presidents and bills,
Forgetting that it’s possible to get ill.
Forced injections of puzzling life mazes, while they laugh above you at your misfortune.
Assembled incentive molded by dollars elevate prison bars in people’s minds making it impossible to reach day time.
In my home, this chase of fortune, blocking out mindful wealth is considered a crime.
Perplexing voyage, I dream of a home in the sky between the dusk and dawn.
Happiness fills my mind when I know it all and when I know nothing at all.
My Soul
by The Cowl Editor on October 5, 2017
Poetry
by Jonathan Coppe ’18
I passed tonight beside some trash
Within the nooks and crannies of a midnight street,
Remains of a festivity since passed,
A joy once in this space but now moved on.
Is not this space so like my soul,
This sometime temple of a distant joy,
Now only a wasteland for litter?
Or rather a spectacle, once bright and sweet
That shone and drew the smiling eyes of all?
The spectacle now demolished, cleared away,
The mixed, neglected refuse forms a scene
Meant only for the tragic souls of this world,
To see and feed their rambling melancholy.
Was all this meant when that poet said,
“My soul is an empty carousel at sunset?”
Giving Up
by The Cowl Editor on October 5, 2017
Poetry
by Connor Zimmerman ’20
I wait for you, just trying to think
About how I can ease the pain,
Being torn between my heart and brain.
Because it’s all about to sink.
We walk along two different roads,
Time always keeping us apart,
Constantly stabbing us in the heart.
Never living the show, just episodes.
I just feel so paralyzed,
’Cause we both know that it’s true:
I’ve been giving up on you.
It has all been compromised.
So please don’t give me that glare,
You know that we’ve lost our spark,
And we’re stumbling in the dark.
We’re just living in despair.
If I could fix what is broken,
I would strive to bridge our divide,
And never have you leave my side.
The final word must be spoken.
Once we’re done I have just one thought,
Your longing green eyes streaming with blue:
I hate that I gave up on you.
In the end, I was made to be distraught.
Hidden Beneath
by The Cowl Editor on October 5, 2017
Poetry
by Marisa Gonzalez ’18
Beneath the murk,
Beneath the sea,
A World is hidden,
From you and me.
From the surface
One could see
A web of branches
As wondrous as can be.
Underwater
There is more.
A whole garden
At its core.
Flowers grow.
Creatures roam.
For thousands
It is home.
Families form.
Children play.
A city thrives,
Growing every day.
Under the surface,
Just below your feet,
Is this world,
Hidden beneath.
Rocks
by The Cowl Editor on September 28, 2017
Poetry
by Jay Willett, ’20
A sunset in a picture doesn’t capture its beauty.
The golden rim, rust-painted wood,
Sleeping alone, cold nights,
What will last longer?
Looked upon as pretty, nobody truly means that.
If it were beautiful, it would be out to see,
Instead it’s put away and marked.
When it arrives only wood shows,
Not that it matters.
It’s part of the art gallery;
A collection of sculptures, fragments of memory.
The child sees these engraved, beautifully designed rocks.
Not as beautiful as what was beneath,
Lined up neatly, she giggles and tugs her mother’s hand.
But they don’t move
None of them do
None of them will.
Perhaps it’s confusion towards art that keeps us alive,
Mysterious allure of symmetry, order, and pattern,
The woman doesn’t move, illustrated with water.
Normally it’s frowned upon to touch such art,
But she grasps the flag, nobody in the gallery halts her
They spend the most time on this work,
All the other stones lay still, watching.
The world is quiet for them
The silence between the tears
The sun sets.