Arts & Culture

Poetic License



The Text That I Couldn’t Write to You

By Dan-Herley Mathieu (Matdanley), Business Administration Major


The text that I could not write for you is all about love. It has been a while since I have been looking for the best possible way to express to you how I feel every time I hear your name. I have been looking for the best image to tell you about how my heart beat faster every time my eyes cross yours. It is weird that my body shudders every time I hear your voice. I wish I could hold your hand every time your body passes close to mine. Pretty girl, my best text about love will be dedicated to you and only you. I was planning on writing a text for you. I started thinking about translating my feelings into words, so that you can understand, but I could not. There are no words that match the ideas that come to my mind when I think about you. You are like a dream that I do not know how to explain to nobody. You are like a game that I know all the rules for, but I cannot play. You are all the reasons that make me smile, but I do not know how to communicate them to no one. I want to write a text that you will never forget; a text that you will gladly read every night before you fall asleep. I want to find all the words that you like the most to compose that text for you. I want to describe how perfect your smile is, but I end up with nothing at all. The text that I could not write for you is a one of a kind. I am ashamed that I could not write that text for you. I do not want you to forgive my incompetence, but I want you to know that I have tried my best. In fact, I do not want to write a text that you will not like. There are so many words that I would like to combine to write to please you, but none of those combinations would even come close to your beauty. Girl, you are angelic.

The text that I could not write for you would have been my best one. I swear lovers would read it on every Valentine’s Day. It would not have been a perfect text, but it would have been more beautiful than the nightingales’ song. It would follow the same musical notes that the waves of the sea follow. I would have been so proud if I have written it. I am sure that it would have been reading in weddings after reading the Bible. The wind would have been inspired by it sweetness to blow. It would have fit in the best category. Students would have had to study it. It would have been the text that would distract politicians in the most important meetings. The sun would memorize its lines to recite to the moon. It would be the song that cocks would have to crow to announce the sunrise. Mars would discuss it with the earth to make it smiles. The text that I could not write for you would have no words at all; it would have been a math equation that only you and I could solve. The text that I could not write for you will have no end.

P/S: Dedicated to my next girlfriend, you’ll have the sweetest boyfriend ever.


Think Before You Speak

By E. Hopkins, Education Major


Now before the defensive comments start blazing

Or the anger burns in your eyes


I am not saying you can’t use a certain word

I’m not taking away your amendment rights

I am also not saying you can’t be critical of a cause

I am simply saying: You hurt my feelings.

Now that seems entirely childish and immature

Like a child tattling on another

So I will say this.

When you say fag, tranny, fat, retarded, stupid, or bitch it hurt me;

When you sliced into a cause I was supportive of, it hurt me.

The list could go on honestly but there are too many instances where I am hurt.

So please, next time you speak, think

If not me, who are you hurting?

The Death Upon Us 

By Oona Foley, Business Major


A bleak fog that is death

Our body’s slowly aging

Getting older wishing

Wishing to be young and free again

Burning with passion

And yearning with fate.

The fog creeps closer

We grow older and search

Search for the well

They call the fountain of youth

We stumble we fall

Death shall have us all

We hear his whispers

We hear his songs

Luring us closer

trying to beat dawn

Dawn comes and deaths fog disperses to come again at twilight

One more night and death will be upon us to never be young to burn with passion or

yearn with fate

We are beyond death and beyond youth

One more time we say good buy as twilight comes and death has won

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