Not-so-Minor Poems

A selection of poems from Summer and Ariana, members of our Minor course!

Farewell to Childhood's Garden

To kiss the hand of childhood,

That fairest mother's name,

Embrace her as her children should,

Farewell is not for shame.

But to live among her flowers so,

And drink dry her golden breast,

It shall disrupt the milk in flow,

Awaken blossoms from their rest.

No I say to the lingering birds,

For innocence that's peeled away,

Those petals fly off into words,

Singing through the wind to stay.

But sail on open wings my child,

And dreams shall follow while the wind is mild.

- Summer

Premonitions

The premonitions are whispering again,

Torrently tugging at my ears.

My throat revives a strangled laughter,

Growing steady in my terror.

People search in nervous glances,

Trying to see what they cannot hear.

But all they see is an old woman laughing,

Chuckling on through silent tears.

A child's eyes meet mine in stride.

He hums a tune with a clutch on his bear.

And the Premonitions are singing with him,

Ripening fresh and dangerous fears.

And while I laugh and wish to cry,

And dream to die if fate proved fair,

The Premonitions ring ironic;

For that child shall die while I remain,

Torn from death as it draws near.

- Summer

In Your Hands

What is to be given away if this were to end?

Would this flower wilt if I were to look away from your eyes?

Would all the tears I shed for it have meant nothing?

That beautiful flower that blossomed when I first met you, will it start to die when our hands break away?

Why does the heart want the impossible?

From the beginning of this story was this flower given a dreadful future?

I gave this flower everything I had,

Yet it doesn't seem to grow anymore.

Has this flower's life come to an end,

or will you keep fighting to keep it alive?

- Ariana

What is Love?

Love is bittersweet

It only occurs to people struck by cupid's arrow

Love is vicious

It consumes the heart in an everlasting lie

Love is darkness

It devours you up into its void of grey clouds

Love is a sharp knife

It stabs through the frail heart and produces a throbbing feeling

Love is a rabbit hole

Once you fall in you can never get out

What is love?

Love is the most genuine yet most confusing emotion a human shall ever come to feel.

- Ariana