15. Poems by the U of G Poets Society

snowflake by Elisa Haley

snowflake

how exquisite the snowflake how unique swiftly sailing through the air scanning for a spot to settle

showcasing a free-floating foxtrot to those eyes watching below all wanting to catch their very own sparkling snow

all longing to be its location to land they are waiting patiently with outstretched arms wildly waving around their hands

although, lovely to look at a heartless hazard to hold they never could’ve imagined how up close something so beautiful could be so carelessly cold

Elisa Haley 4th year, Biomedical Sciences with a minor in Psychology

Raisins

I groan a large groan as I see them there. So putrid, so sickening. Oh I cannot compare, how much hate I have for these wretched things.

Your foul taste lingers on my lips, soiling everything you may touch. Please never masquerade as chocolate chips, I never thought this betrayal could hurt so much.

How were you granted such privilege, as to not be called dried grape? I am disgusted by your every ridge. It’s a pain in which I find no escape.

Now I may be coming on strong, but please do forgive. If I could not speak out against what is wrong, I would have no raisin to live.

burnt beginnings

five fires ago, lit by sun-kissed maybes and fingertips fraught with sweet nothings / you fell for the unassuming flutters which wrapped the nostalgias of yesteryears in tight, curt knots / warped by the promises you’d never kept / we left our last fire unattended until it bore a hole in my sweater sleeve forgotten yearnings for the dregs of the charcoal’s warmth reminded me that all was not lost

Dylan Curran MA in English

Special thanks to @theguelphpoet for their Campfire Confessions prompts

Musings of a winter landscape

Enveloped in my thoughts, I stood next to the bare, old oak, the snow reaching to my knees, the frigid wind cutting into me like a sharp razor slicing silk. Yet I felt nothing, my body numb with cold, my limbs stiff and heavy, like stone. My eyes, two dark voids, stared out to the barren view, the frost-covered ground shimmering in the gentle moonlight. I am the snow, delicate yet pernicious, dreamy yet piercing. I become the trees, stark and desolate, stiffly swaying side to side through the frozen air. Consumed, I transform into frost, disappearing into the atmosphere, an illusion glistening in the corner of your eye.

Sabina Tillinger 2nd year, Psychology & Philosophy

The HandyMan

He’s a fixer Who’s trying to fix her, Gotta lotta ideas and experiments One’s bound to stop the tears and torment Even if it just happens for a moment.

He’s a fixer Who’s failing to fix her, Now he’s gotta lotta fears around failure Because he feels like he’s failed her When really, some wounds cannot be eradicated And he hasn’t yet comprehended Some fractures can only be mended.

He’s a man who can’t seem to end His own psychological torment So he focuses on her, Who wears her hurt like it’s a shirt, Because it’s so much easier to fix the girl Than to focus on your own little world That’s crumbling And falling apart With no one to fix it

With no one to fix him

Chicken McFly

I’ve been a butter fingers, and a scaredy cat. But that changes tonight. Tonight I’m taking flight. I’m not Marty but I’m pretty Mcfly. And since i’m not the other guy, Everyone calls me chicken. These aren’t butter fingers, they’re chicken fingers penning picturesque playful poems. Dotting I’s and crossing T’s like finish lines. I’m not gonna lose this time. It’s a winner winner chicken dinner and I’m on the plate. So you can try and call me a chicken to insult me. But I eat that negativity down to the bone. I’m no bird brain dumb cluck, I’m at the top of the pecking order, and oh so ready Ready to ruffle some feathers. But enough with clucking, It’s time I flew the coop. Right now I’m in a pleasant mood, because I know this poem was finger licking good. Robert Colanardi 4th year, Software Engineering with a minor in Philosophy and Creative Writing

Salvation by Ramya E.

Salvation

The visage of corporation Turn to a conglomeration Of water and of the remnants of green Now dry, cold, and beautiful. The geese and herons in the distance Even maintain the cognizance Of a tremouring mind. Its existence to preserve the water. Its name a symbol for lives lost On behalf of those whose lives were renewed In a place anew. Where to be when you can only move body And not mind. Where to go when you want to find Salvation.

Ramya E B.A. Mathematics

The Guelph Poets Society is a passionate collective of poetry enthusiasts dedicated to providing a platform to share talents and discover more poetry.

They host biweekly, one hour meetings full of different styles and formats of poetry, fun prompts and tons of sharing. There are opportunities for publishing your poetry on their Instagram, other university publications and external platforms. They also provide the opportunity to perform poetry at various events.

RECORDING

We are above.... Yet I have never felt more

Below. up, up, You are far away now, far up, but I can feel you beneath the sheets we once lay in and between the blouses you wore.

I surface, take a breath In, A sweet smile, faded laughter Out.

A hand pushing my head closer. A warm chest, warmer heart beat. (Rewind, Rewind◄◄ ) My love for you is lost, replaced with a grief I buried inside.

It weighs me down Deeper, D E E P E R, aching in my chest. A dulled pain I refuse to feel. People speak to me, but they are blurred. The world is spinning, running past while I watch on Fast Forward . Reality is on a remote (the remote?) island and I am the survivor.

Sub merged

into solitude, but unable to breathe lest the ocean I live under drown me. FREEZE FRAME (Pause II) I am stuck, A sliver of time dreaming of days when you were here, finger poised upon the button yet afraid to press Play . So, for now, I take my time, pretend I am talking to a real person, rather than a memory on repeat. (skip, skip, skip) Click.

The tape has ended, I cannot bear to be alone. When I dream of your spirit, I can see through your smile. (Please Stop )

All the Blue

I can feel the misty spittle-spray of the ocean, roaring at me with all the might and ferocity that one should expect from such an expanse. The clouds are full, dark and moving rapidly. They beg me to go inside but I don’t mind the rain. I’m waterproof anyway. Dampness from the wooden pier seeps into my fingertips as I grasp it, mesmerized by the power in the wind whipping back my hair, and pulling at my blouse so that it dances along to my heartbeat. We are one, you and I, I think to the storm. Rough waves respond with a tickle at my toes, and together we laugh. Oh, so much blue. It’s painted deeply dark in the sky and reflected in the sea, a collection of shades overlapping as they flow. It runs along my wrists in criss-crosses, proving my existence, and falls from the clouds in heavy droplets that kiss my cheeks. I wonder how a colour can come to own such power as the storm suddenly breaks, and spots of sun shine through.

Beckett Keyes 4th year, English with a minor in Creative Writing

clearing out

a hundred years gone by for only one reason the thickness of an oak curving against my back

we’ve both had hearts carved into us been broken, beaten, called it love we’ve both waited our lives to be understood

and the steady rush of rain is always loud, always alive but so, too, is this

and i have always been a fool but i’m starting to believe it romantic again

it started as a joke but the grass really does tell stories and every sense is sun and the smell of leaves

i’m wide open again let the cavity of my chest fill with water become a pond, sweet relief anything could live in me

so i am holding out hope i am holding your hand and maybe the suffering was meaningless after all this time

the glory was manufactured the show was just a show

but when every day is a realization, the water becomes clear you can’t see to the bottom, but you know it’s there

you know, and i know, that this was meant to be more than that: you know this is

Sun Catcher by Cassidy Boyle

Sun Catcher

I have a window keeping my room bright, I listen close when it’s soaking in sunlight. Through it, I hear whispers of hidden souls, Languages silenced and stories untold.

Mingling with my mind, like plovers’ pursuits They see me as their own, as lovers en route When they glimpse in me a familiar sight When we’ve both bled in similar fights, Keen to share with me their wisdom They lend me their power and might

It rings sharp in my ears Singing what they know Adorned by them like jewels, Where I lead, they go

It’s my job to sort through their kind, To help find out which stars align To pick and choose my favourite gems To keep with me till daytime ends.

Through the window in my corner mind, I like to look through the glass at night, When I do, I’m shown what’s behind, Glowy greens of grasses entwined, Purple skies and rainbow figs, Dancing clouds and talking pigs,

It’s something more, it’s something else, Something that lives beyond myself It’s not me, and it’s not mine, Landscape visions so sublime, Skydrops dripping into ether, She loves him, he’d never leave her, Perfect feelings of sunsets deep, Of moving minds and daring leaps. Looking close, it goes away, Like arrays of particle waves

These captured realms, they move with me, Like moons direct intent of sea, They don’t pass by like meteoroids, Not flying free, interest devoid, They orbit me like stars and planets, Caught and stuck in my centre void

I climb through the maw of my window When eyes are closed and my mind is gone The styled flow I saw becomes real The thing I’ve been chasing all along I play in stars and live fantasies Consumed in cosmos, it’s cruel to leave

But waking comes and seas are lost Kingdoms fall when morning dawns I’ve kept something though the window has closed, Memories of a world much better than home

It accents my life with the strides I take Finishing my heart like a picture frame Shadowing my moves, pushing each action Filling my tone and fuelling my passion

Leaving me breadcrumbs to cut through the crude We’ll meet sometimes when I strike the right tune I’ll march through this lifetime with the magic they gave And join them forever when I’m laid in my grave