Gentle Grey
By Zoe Mckinzie
Now imagine a world in specific black and white,
No grey, just ink and light.
Can you picture it?
No?
Why? I politely inquire,
why is it that we so desire,
Ivory skin, with eyes of coal?
Why not the gentle grey contour of a cheekbone?
Certainly not because we do prefer,
One color to another,
Or that we prefer the beauty of a bottle,
Over the raw individual beauty we carry.
Because as we have grown,
We have fallen short,
no longer admiring individuality.
no longer seeing unity.
We see what is on our feed,
Nothing more, black, or white.
We see those bodies on magazines and feeds,
And decide that, maybe, we aren’t good enough
Maybe that’s why we don’t have friends,
Maybe that’s why we don’t have a partner,
Maybe that’s why we don’t talk with anyone
Or maybe.
Just maybe the reason you don’t have those things,
Is because you don’t get off the black and white screen,
Long enough to see,
All the beautiful greys the world has to offer.
Maybe we should admire the gentle and raw power,
Each individual possesses
The sheer magnitude and intellect
Each person provides.
Maybe, we should admire one another, rather than our screens.
Sonder
A person, among billions of others.
A nameless face, a person with no identity,
What can you see in me?
Projections of insanity?
I’ve been told I look less than Friendly.
But among the ceaseless flow of time,
I wish for happy moments strung on telephone wire.
What moments will my mind retire?
Which ones will leave something to be desired?
I’ve been thinking I shouldn’t care.
And in the daily bustle and chatter,
I hope for some quiet,
a moment of serenity.
Will I find a moment to simply lay?
Are you someone who will stay?
Because my days are long and dreary.
And there’s not much I will or can say,
on the topic of yesterday or tomorrow,
Quiet or loud.
Or people, even.
Because we all experienced yesterday,
And we could experience tomorrow.
We’ve all been loud, in some manner of speaking,
And We’ve all been quiet, in some definition.
But something many of us lack is the warm beat,
The quiet contentment, and subtle calm,
From the most human of things,
A basic connection.
Poured over coffee or tea,
Fending off days so bleak,
We search for a human heartbeat.
Zoe Mckinzie is a sophomore considering a career in nursing.
Honestly
By Mathew Clemens
Honestly,
I ought to be
honest with myself.
Lying,
about where I’m at
is a hard thing to sell.
Once I get past
that fact
look myself in the mirror.
Realize
happiness
is already here.
Mathew Clemens is a returning student studying laboratory science.