Tag: Portfolio
I Wish
by The Cowl Editor on December 9, 2021
Poetry
Mariela Flores ’23
I wish I could float inside the slits you let open
like a seed in a line ready to sink and to grow. I wish I could dive
into your veins and feel your hot blood crash against me.
I want nothing more than to burn from the spark in the shaking of our hands
––to feel the drilling of your rhythm until I only hear––your sounds.
But your body is hollow, echoing my screams.
If I dive into you now, I will fall onto soft bags
filled with proof of a breath, proof of a cleansing, proof
of a thought etched into the ridges of time with no ear nearby.
I cannot float without choking on the colorless
pungent smell of this new you. You reek of wilting petals
and dimming lights from the sky pulling bodies into rest.
As I touch you now, the burn is cold and raw.
I wait for the spark in my hand to thaw you––but you stay frozen.
I press my ear to your chamber hoping to hear
the thumping of some sound. I hate the silence that you leave me.
I wish I could will your soul back into its casing
and feel the pulsing rush of your life embrace me.
But your body is rusted underneath old soft green earth
and there is no more time to wish.
Tiff and Earl
by The Cowl Editor on December 9, 2021
Features
Dear Tiff and Earl,
My roommate and I are having a serious, friendship-breaking fight over something very important: who takes home our precious BOP fish over winter break? How should we determine who has the honor of bringing Mr. Guppy to their wonderful home?
Sincerely,
Certified Fish Parent
Dear Certified Fish Parent,
A wise old chappie named Solomon once faced this very problem. If you are familiar with your Old Testament—wait…you’re a PC student. Who are we kidding? Let me take a leaf out of his book (1 Kings, you putz). Go to your roommate and demand to divide little Mr. Guppy in two, so that you can both have him. Your roommate, unless she’s as crazy as a horse, will readily give up Mr. Guppy for his own good. Now if, on the other hand, she starts hunting for some fish-dividing implement, be prepared to take the fish and run. Either way, you may have won the fish but lost the war. You’ll probably need to find a new roommate.
Cheers!
Tiff
Dear Certified Fish Parent,
You and your roommate evidently both love Mr. Guppy and want the best for him. There’s only one thing to do in a serious situation such as this: let the law decide who his most suitable guardian is. Rulings on grand theft auto and homicide can wait—this is a matter that demands the court’s immediate attention. As long as you don’t have any dogs, cats, or seafood lovers at home, you should have a good chance of being awarded full custody.
Just keep swimming,
Earl
Holiday Listomania
by The Cowl Editor on December 9, 2021
Christmas
Holiday Miracles That Would Make Me Cry (of Joy)
- Getting an A on every single final
- My plants coming back to life (looking at my succulents…)
- Getting off the waitlist for my classes
- My BOP fish still being alive after break
- Finally getting a stimulus check (to spend on Christmas shopping)
- Colleen coming back to life (fly high queen)
- Getting a response on LinkedIn
- Securing the internship I’m completely underqualified for
- Actually being able to do what I say I can on my resume
- Getting no Friday classes
- Finally shooting my shot with my crush
- Finding the perfect temperature for my room
- Fulfilling all my New Year’s resolutions
- Learning how to cook (finally)
- Finishing my elaborate alternate universe
- Actually being the main character
- Getting Nate Watson to follow me on TikTok
What Is The Portfolio Staff Grateful For?
by The Cowl Editor on December 9, 2021
Christmas
Taylor Rogers ’24: my family, Dunkin’ holiday lattes, and my amazing friends :)
Mariela Flores ’23: the family I have known my whole life and the found family I will know for the rest of it
Aidan Lerner ’22: our copy editors at The Cowl who work hard to get our pieces published each week
Kate Ward ’23: my found family and parents that have stuck with me through thick and thin
Anna Pomeroy ’23: health and happiness this holiday season!
Sarah McLaughlin ’23: the opportunity to be a part of such a wonderful and talented group of writers!
Grace O’Connor ’22: my family and friends who have helped me through hard times
Tiff and Earl
by The Cowl Editor on November 19, 2021
Features
Dear Tiff and Earl,
Should I break up with my boyfriend to feel the pain of Taylor Swift’s new album? I just feel like it would make listening to Red a surreal experience (and fit the vibe).
Sincerely,
Not Too Well (Taylor’s Version)
Dear Not Too Well,
If you are asking this question, you have already arrived at the right answer. But let me make one suggestion as to a method of proceeding from this point: make sure he knows that you asked good old Tiff and Earl this question. If he has a smackerel of sense, he’ll understand, and graciously allow you to be the dumpee, not the dumper. It’s much better that way. Let him tear up your relationship. It’s obviously not a masterpiece. It’s a Bob Ross painting.
Cheers!
Tiff
Dear Not Too Well (Taylor’s Version),
In order to get the full and proper effect of Red (Taylor’s Version), you can’t be the one to break up with your boyfriend—he must be the one to dump you. If your man has a proclivity for attending indie music concerts on a weekly basis, owns a million-dollar couch, and incurred your father’s disapproval when he failed to show up at your 21st birthday party, the good news is that he should be breaking your heart any day now!
Don’t let him keep your scarf from that very first week, even though it reminds him of innocence, and it smells like you.
Earl
Thankful: A DWC Paper
by The Cowl Editor on November 18, 2021
Creative Non-Fiction
By: Aidan Lerner ’22
Since the beginning of time when the first man evolved from clay or fish or from apes, there has been higher education (I would assume). Aidan Lerner ’22 is a current student at Providence College who thinks positively about his experience. Lerner is a finance major, a writing minor, and a senior who lives off campus. He is a good example of the type of student who would be thankful to have chosen to go to the College. In this paper, I will argue that Aidan Lerner is thankful he goes to PC because of his living experience, the positives from COVID-19, and his fear of graduating.
Aidan Lerner has lived in Guzman, Davis, and DiTraglia. Lerner talks a lot about how he liked that he had a bathroom in his room in Guzman, saying, “Having the bathroom was an incredible time saver. Also, it was a good way to make friends because people would barge in to use it” (Lerner, phone call with his mother). This quote shows that Lerner values comfort because he is clearly lazy and does not want to go into the hall to use a communal bathroom. But I also think it shows that Lerner values the friendships he was able to form. Lerner refers to his direct roommates as “his immediate best friends that he was not really truly close with until second semester which he learned is a natural process for friendship” (Lerner, conversation with Yuck Truck guy). This mangled, contradictory quote shows that Lerner did not find friendship to be an instantaneous process, even though he hoped it would be. It took time, but he learned to appreciate the people around him. Furthermore, this is shown later on when he moved into Davis and then DiTraglia with new roommates. Lerner always talks about how he hates change, but at each spot, he formed new close bonds. I think Lerner had a great living experience because he formed friendships that became as strong as he could have imagined.
According to Aidan Lerner, COVID-19 was a really bad thing. Many people would agree with that stance, but Lerner is also a legendary COVID-19 survivor who managed to test positive exactly one day before he was scheduled to get his vaccine. Lerner took a lot from the experience that contact-traced all of his roommates and friends. “Yeah, it sucked,” an anonymous friend said. “The timing was terrible, and my initial reaction was that I wanted to find Aidan and slap him silly, but unfortunately he had a contagious virus, and I was locked up in a Marriott” (Anonymous, YikYak). I think that Lerner took a lot from this adversity. He reports that his friends were good-natured about the whole thing. It was no one’s fault, and they all called him during their quarantines. Lerner really felt loved. That whole year was such a challenge for Lerner, but there were a lot of great things about being isolated with a group of his best friends. Lerner showed through his constant positivity and great memories from that time that Providence College had taught him that his friendships could make even the coronavirus pandemic a less depressing time.
Finally, Aidan Lerner does not want to leave Providence College, therefore, he must be thankful for the school. Lerner was recently heard saying, “Yes, I will be miserable to leave. I am going to miss this place so much, and I want to just be at this place enjoying time with my friends forever. I definitely do not want to leave these people and have professional responsibilities” (Lerner, job interview for a job he did not get). This quote shows a lot about Lerner and his love of Providence College. He has a lot of fear for his future, but it seems that it is more born out of his deep appreciation for the campus. I think that Lerner values his experiences so much and has managed to carve out happiness in his senior year. It seems he is reluctant to leave and to possibly fail miserably for the rest of his life alone.
I think that Aidan Lerner is obviously thankful for this school because it was welcoming to him even though he is shy and anxious, and a virus ruined everyone’s fun. This shows that Providence College is a great place that everyone will miss once they graduate.
Professor Comments: Repetitive, poor central argument, awk, needs better quote integration, C-
Listomania
by The Cowl Editor on November 18, 2021
Features
Things to bring to Friendsgiving
- Buffalo chicken dip
- A rotisserie chicken
- Anything but deviled eggs
- A solid playlist
- Microwave mashed potatoes
- A can of raw pumpkin
- Political debate topics
- Store-bought pie
- Dollar Tree decorations
- Conversation topics (to avoid awkward silences)
- Craft supplies (to make hand turkeys)
- Welch’s sparkling cider
- Friends
- Friends Thanksgiving episodes
- My incredible sense of humor
- Tea ☕
Rule Book
by The Cowl Editor on November 18, 2021
Poetry
AJ Worsley ’22
get down on your knees
rub your face across the grass
tickle your cheek with excitement,
you feel something.
drive to the water, one hand on the wheel, your other is holding on to life.
you haven’t felt alive in a minute.
the skylines reek of hope but you never drive there, you stay in your comfort zone because it’s easier to joke about yourself than to fix the things you joke about.
but you’re never actually joking are you?
you’re genuine. you’re hurtful. you’re hateful.
you’re a bad person, if not to anyone but yourself.
so grab a cloud and put it in your pocket,
save it for a rainy day when you can ride it like a wave.
climb a mountain and accept defeat.
close that social media app, you’re far too comfortable in your loneliness to be here.
break your rear view in the process of getting that mask on your face.
you don’t know where your soul is or where it belongs but right now it isn’t where it needs to be. you need a new spot. a new playlist. a new love.
you’re aware of the things that make you happy but you don’t grant yourself access to those things because you’ve convinced yourself you don’t deserve them.
kiss the grass and bite it. love the earth you’ve been given while you’re down there, but when you come up, climb that tree and look down on a world who has put you at the bottom of the list.
don’t expect to be others’ first choice when you can’t even put yourself first.
you are small and inconvenient. make mistakes and forgive yourself for them. don’t dwell. you aren’t here long enough to dwell.
let lightning scare you, and love that fear but don’t let it last forever.
so much world you want to see but you can’t even make it out of your own head.
it’s the window that reminds you of a portal. or the staircase that takes you from one life to another. the door. the change you seek but never acquire.
listen to your elders but never let them try to control you. shave your head if you’d like. identity is whatever you want it to be.
it’s hard to share your thoughts, your words that you hate, the creative vision in a world that’s already created your idea. you are not original. you are the first to ever put those words together.
the truth is, there are no rules so there cannot be a rule book. your God wants you to love, but if your God is dead then be your own God and remind those around you that life is constructed by something greater.
we don’t know what comes next so the present is not something to reject. modernity is a beast, let’s come together and put it on a leash.
death is far more feared than that lightning, but kiss the grass that grows in spring, and find comfort in the life that awaits you when the life leaves your body.
pass me the telescope dripping with nostalgia so i can watch her dancing on the moon from my car parked by the beach.
the seasons will always change. they did before your time and they will continue to after your time here. see the world. respect your God, deny tradition.
you have the time. you have the energy. you have the love. you have the life.
you tell me you couldn’t imagine your life without me,
i urge you to try a little harder.
Umbrella
by The Cowl Editor on November 18, 2021
Poetry
Anna Pomeroy ’23
They say it’s bad luck to open an umbrella indoors.
I never seemed to understand that––
Why not be granted the extra protection before you even step outdoors?
It’s rather a challenge, standing down the hall of my mudroom
As I glare down the open door drowned with rainpour.
It’s a mental and physical game one plays––
Opening the umbrella as quickly as possible, and you lose if you get any
Raindrops on you.
We fear the uncertainty of that game, focused solely on the protection.
The barrier between us and the outside world, our reality.
It’s because we were conditioned that way.
Growing up, your parents shielded you from the darkness of this world.
Whether it’s “don’t look over at that accident” or private conversations
In the hallway of a doctor’s office.
We become blinded by the glare of our bubble.
Yet, truth be told, once you have grown out of those old wives’ tales,
The umbrella will be opened indoors in an act of careless habit.
Our chins will face up as we march out of the door,
Unknowingly still comforted by our shield.
And when that bubble eventually pops,
And we lose the glimmer our childish eyes once held,
We will run back into that hallway, shaking the drops off our coat.
The bad luck has kept its promise.
The Fried Chicken Song
by The Cowl Editor on November 4, 2021
Poetry
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