Tag: National Poetry Month (page 2 of 2)

“Ode to North Central” by Kate Dawson

Walking out of my dorm

 

I meet students sitting on the grass 

gossiping, studying, relaxing,

taking a break from life.

 

They stake into the ground a volleyball net 

and soak in the rays beaming down 

from the sun. 

 

Classes take their leave for the weekend, 

while university buildings continue to shelter students 

whose work remains a weight on their shoulder. 

 

Breaking the silence comes the announcement of noon, 

courtesy of bells that send their sounds rushing

out of Memorial Hall.

 

Scampering squirrels interject the path of travelers

prancing down the bricks, where townspeople separate

young adults clumped together. 

 

Horns honk, 

reverberating off the pavement. 

 

Walk sign is onfades into the distance.

 

 Students sputter over the crosswalk, 

racing the cars speeding towards them. 

 

Main Street commotion fills the ears of those

who journey up the stairs, 

greeted by a mini town packed into one strip of asphalt. 

 

Air whips across faces 

riddled with blushing cheeks. 

 

Hands grip coffee drinks, 

each with a unique store logo brandishing the front. 

 

Time carries on 

as errands are run 

and assignments are completed. 

 

Or 

leisure takes focus

as procrastination temporarily hides to-do lists. 

 

Picturesque, 

the scene so full of life waits 

to be captured in a still picture 

from the lens of a phone

that can’t express the true atmosphere and movement. 

 

Air turns cool, 

sky turns dark, 

and day turns night.

 

Grass regains its place 

upright 

after being indented by daytime visitors. 

 

Today’s pushed off worries 

become tomorrow’s goals. 

 

Falling into bed at night, 

basketball chains rattle outside. 

 

The sound permeates my window. 

 

North Central sleeps, 

waiting to breathe life 

into the Green

again tomorrow. 

 

This is a poem about “the liveliness of North Central that comes to life especially with good weather,” composed by  Kate Dawson, a Class of 2024 Elementary Education major in the Honors College. In celebration of National Poetry Month, “186 South College” will be posting the work of Honors students weekly throughout the month of April and May as bonus content. If you or someone you know would like to share their work as a guest writer like Kate, we are still accepting submissions at this link: https://bit.ly/186Poets22

“Speak to Me” by Andrew Smith

Warm are the words
you spoke to me then.
Now I fear them in longing
of everlasting concavity
that I should hear them again.
Sweet honey oozes in somber timbre,
they flow through me and rush!
like a river fills every crack in the stone.

Majestic and nay, angelic, that God
graces the land with an image of He
but rather a voice of disastrous beauty
entranced even now by
mere temptatious thought.
In dreams I await to hear echoes and
reverberations an ounce remaining
still potent in my existential awestruck.

 

This is a romantic poem composed by  Andrew Smith, a Class of 2024 student in the Honors College. In celebration of National Poetry Month, “186 South College” will be posting the work of Honors students weekly throughout the month of April and May as bonus content. If you or someone you know would like to share their work as a guest writer like Andrew, we are still accepting submissions at this link: https://bit.ly/186Poets22

“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

“What Would It Take to Fall” by Nabiha Syed

I want, to be standing atop a skyscraper when my eyes touch yours

My body a bottomless abyss of butterflies on the Burj

I want to feel their pollinated flower blossom in me when I see those eyes crinkle

You are like the infinities of the universe

Ocean with endless Space, and Time to wrinkle

 

I want you to have your own kingdom and me my empire 

and when we join its still two different castles just both reaching higher

I want to feel whole without you

But still feed my soul around you

When I question it everyday

I want you to remind me i can live without you

 

I want you to make me do things I’m scared to do

Because I can, and that’s your truth

 

The only time you hide your face from me 

Is when it’s caught between two pages

 

I want to watch you stick 

red pins on a map 

like you forgot I have trypophobia

Take our pirate ship 

to the edge of land, 

then see if we can go beyond

 

I want to create our own chaos 

Power our connection even though our phones stay off

 

I want to fight with you over whether a cat or dog is better 

and end up adopting both from the shelter

 

I want the sun to envy us

 

I want you to disagree with me 

and somehow make me cherish you more

 

The water next to my mojave

The shoulder I hate to need

The only home I’m afraid to leave

 

I want, to be standing two inches from a bullet train when you brush past me

 

I want cardamom ginger chai to flood my veins when I hold you in my gaze

Or hell I wanna forget cardamom chai when i explore your taste

 

Cinnamon clouds and galaxies of star anise

Filling my head when your fingers trace the streets 

of Ilayangudi in my hair

We make our own language 

Methuselah’s roots in anguish 

Wishing to be as tightly entangled 

as our limbs

 

I want to finally finally be unafraid to lose myself 

 

To not think 

Safe. Comfortable

So captivated by you even the voice in my head finally stops and listens

 

I want to never have to second guess

That every one of my thoughts, you catch from my mouth and store in your treasure chest

 

I want to bare my soul to you 

and have you look at me bc you know that wasn’t all

because you know that even when my tongue is flowing

I keep the lowest parts of me locked

 

I’ve never let myself fall

I want you to make me wanna jump

 

I want to admire you dancing in my clothes you look so silly in

And never get tired of picking you over 7 billion

 

I want to give you my trust

And that’s a diamond I keep hidden in the rough

 

I want you to hear this one day and know I didn’t even cover half 

of what I want to feel

 

I want all of that.

 

So how can you be real? 

 

This is a love poem composed by Nabiha Syed, a  Class of 2024 computer science 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 Nabiha, 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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