Tag: free verse

TBT: “42°F” by Jenna Whiting

Thank you to everyone who participated in our guest writer series for National Poetry Month! To wrap our celebration up, here is a throwback from Jenna Whiting in November 2017 — a free verse on the time of year where we are wishing for cool respite from summer heat. Now, though, let’s hope things warm up again soon before the semester draws to a close…

42°F

Oh, how I am so glad to see you, merciful white numbers,

Old friends who haven’t greeted me in a year,

Floating in the stark cerulean sky of the Weather Channel app

That I scroll through, standing next to my dorm window.

Finally, after the summer’s sun overstayed its welcome,

After its warmth encroached onto the calendar squares of October for far too long,

After I thought the humidity would never cease sticking to the streets and to me,

The feeling of fall is finally in full force.

42°F

The first time that you appear from your summer hibernation

Is a special day.

I can finally snap open my dorm wardrobe door

And squish the well-worn yarn of my well-loved sweaters between my fingers as I search for the day’s attire.

I can pull on my marshmallow coat and maybe, if I’m lucky enough for the wind to warrant such a treat,

I can wrap a cat’s-ear-soft scarf under my chin and nuzzle into its cloth.

The first emergence into the autumn air from the front doors of Redding,

My sweater and coat and scarf putting forth a valiant effort in the name of warmth,

Is one to be cherished.

Oxygen, cold and crisp as a Granny Smith, enters my nose and invigorates my lungs and mind.

I breathe deeply and cherish the scent of multi-hued leaves

That have erupted throughout campus, making UD’s scenery even more beautiful than before.

I can almost taste them in all their crunchy red and brown and yellow glory.

More deep breaths with each step on the red brick paths

As my hands protest the sudden change of climate,

And I bury them into the pockets that are permanently bitten out of my marshmallow coat.

42°F

One of your best traits is your trademark holiday:

Thanksgiving and its accompanying break from school

And family time and pumpkin pie and background-noise football

And the scent of stuffing filling the kitchen and the sparkling cider that is retrieved from the basement shelves,

And curling up in blankets on the couch in front of a movie, tea or hot chocolate steaming beside me.

42°F

Thank you for instigating the lighting of candles that pervade my house with the spicy scent of cinnamon,

The fire prancing around the wax like the reindeer that will land on the roof in a month.

“But wait, watch this,” says the fireplace, competing with the candles

That can’t hold a candle to the warmth and size of the wood-fueled inferno,

And the central heating provides a familiar whir as comfy air is pushed through the vents.

42°F

I trumpet your magnificence to anyone I can.

“You’re crazy,” they all say. “I love warm weather,” they all say.

Don’t pay attention to them, 42.

You’re the best.

60°F

But wait.

How dare you, Delaware.

I love you, but you’re such a liar, as you always are when it comes to weather.

The warmth is back again,

Not as much as before,

But still here.

But I shan’t worry,

Because the cold will soon return

And settle in

Like a bear in a cave ready to sleep.

“The Glow in Your Eyes” by Yusra Farooqui

My sight lost itself inside the pool of honey brown 

Which glowed like gold in the sun

And gazed glossily across the distant world with a frown

Carrying a heavy heart that was overrun

 

I saw the nothingness, the empty daze of running thoughts  

Of a mind so busy, a heart so lost

My own soul ached to fill those barren spots

No matter what the cost

 

I reached out with a comforting hand to hold

Those dry tears that fell

Of a stubborn mind that only acted so bold

And chose to trudge through hell 

 

My sight lost itself inside a warming smile that acted

As a fleeting curtain to hide 

The broken spirit that felt painfully compacted 

And needed an embrace in which to reside

 

My eyes found themselves far within an ocean so dark;

Bronze glow clouded from murky thoughts

Oh how I hoped to bring back that igniting spark

And remove that fazed gloss

 

So they would always look like sweet cinnamon bark

 

So my sight would find itself inside a pool of honey brown 

Which would glow like gold in the sunlight

While gazing joyfully into my own without a frown

Making the eased heart a pure sight

Beaming brightly, shining as my radiating sun 

 

This is a poem composed by  Yusra Farooqui, a student in the Honors College describing the experience of “looking deeper into a human being.” In celebration of National Poetry Month, “186 South College” will be posting the work of Honors students weekly throughout the month of April as bonus content. If you or someone you know would like to share their work as a guest writer like Yusra, we are still accepting submissions at this link: https://bit.ly/186Poets22

“Tomato Day” by Casey Littrell

A large house with several floors, each connected by a staircase-esque staircase

A dream so far beyond description that it wraps back around and you can describe it again— let's remember this one instead of memories

An orange-flavored Smencil acts as a shibboleth

Banks without rivers,

and
a tomato day

This is a free verse poem composed by Casey Littrell, a  sophomore mathematics major in the Honors College. In celebration of National Poetry Month, “186 South College” will be posting the work of Honors students every Sunday throughout the month of April as bonus content. If you or someone you know would like to share their work as a guest writer like Casey, we are still accepting submissions at this link: https://bit.ly/186Poets22

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