Category: poetry
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1938
A poem by Abraham Budson, ’22 On a frost tipped cold-mid morning, halfway through the year. The old gym dark and quiet, the new one crystal clear. As the students would soon enter and just as soon embark As the light shut off forever The floor all dust and dark As songs and speeches sounded […]
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How to Get Away with Murder
A prose poem by Editor-in-Chief Jacob Landau, ’22 Ten violets grow in soft water. Another eight lilies, struck by the early March sunlight, rise through warm gravel. Fifteen roses appear in melting snow. Fifty sunflowers soar through Florida marshes. Dozens of bouquets emerge from the sullen ground daily. Every year, thousands of flowers emerge—yet again […]
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Second Residence
Because I could not run for home, It kindly ran for me Reminders, hints everywhere Yet nowhere to run.
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of auburn suns and frozen skies
A poem by Chloe Fang, ’23, winner of our transition contest The leaves were vivid, burning with a carnelian-amber intensity.
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at last
a poem by Clara Renner, ’24 Stepping into the warm sun. My feet warmed by the soft sand beneath them. The light wind blowing my long hair. My sunglasses shading my eyes from the bright sunlight. The smell of the salty ocean and fresh cinnamon churros on the pier. My feet washed by the waves […]
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my stomps
a poem by Dilen Marra, ’22 I stomp down the path I watch other people tiptoe down the path They look like swans swimming down the river that I once fished at I move with them We are salmon swimming up the stream of life I’ve been stomping for an eternity For if you stomp […]
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you are a lie
a poem by Dilen Marra, ’22 Trust me, I know a lot about lies And you are a lie You are the voice in the back of my mind The voice that tells me that I will see the sun, the candle, and the fireflies But, what lives inside of me can tell you otherwise
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beautiful, but ugly
poem by Anonymous Being born ugly isn’t always bad. Being born ugly can save you from being bought and sold like furniture. But later you grow pretty.
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chrysanthemums in snow
poem by Ramya Yandava ’17 Everyone thought they’d die by the time December rolled around, when the chill hit and Mrs. B removed her wind chimes and the birds all flew South
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basement (with the clock ticking)
poem by Lexi Todorov, ’17 You reach to your pocket In response to an ersatz buzz, Spend it like time does, constant and with certainty. Hurry. Your time in the basement must be worth it, A watch full of ladders— Tears in your eyes, dear? They don’t matter. The water’s getting higher now— Shall you […]
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