Poetry Corner

Hero Among the Tulips
Paige France

Our love began when the tulips sprouted,
Back when your glimmery eyes competed with the dew off the many paths you led me down,
Your fresh love was one that I never doubted,
I watched you from afar, throwing pebbles as I stifled a smile high above in my nightgown, 

You and me, a mere happenstance of emotion,
A boy looking for love and a girl with so much to give,
Blooming much like the season, my sedentary life thrown into motion,
Our intertwined love touched on something transformative,

And you know damned well that I would forgive you if you had stayed,
But I’m weak, I’m hurt, I forgive too much,
Missing your protection, your continuous shade,
From the cruel world, I never thought that I had misread that ginger touch,

I see you treading away in your Oxford heels,
The crooked, cobbled walkway, your maiden voyage,
Leaving me waiting for spring, 
For me to stroke the earth, planting my tulip, wondering what its imminent bloom will bring,

Roy Han

Confined in an unknown solitary, 
Concluded whole by society’s gaze. 
Immeasurable burdens I carry, 
It had reckoned to be a passing phase. 
Should oneself hide away their tendencies? 
At the sole expense of belongingness. 
Push anxious uncertainties 
Who’s to break the anxieties of man? 

Assured I was God’s cherished creation 
Relief filled within me with unknown past 
Sky graduate to heaven’s nation 
The temptations of sin that last. 

Who’s to say the feelings are still sore 
Acceptance of who I am. Afraid of truth no more. 

Serena Uribe

Run, Run

As quick as the embers 
And the flames of the sun 
Like the north winds of December
So far have we come

Run, Run 

Through blades of tall grass 
The earth below comes undone 
with every stride, swift and fast
moving towards oblivion 

Run, Run  

Follow the eagles in their flight
Leap o’er mountains, one by one
Oh, my dear, don’t be affright 
When the roaring tides come

Run, Run 

The Mirror and My Face
Dagale Mohammed

Is that my face? No, really, I’m seriously asking
I know the camera adds, and Instagram lies
But is that truly the size of my lips? My nose? My eyes?

I never thought of myself as a great beast (or beauty), nor that my visage is lacking
And this is not a piece about embracing self-love, or acknowledging insecurity
But to think: is my self-image so far from reality?

My mirror has left me spiraling, the great unmasking!

Vernal Equinox
Komalroop Kaler

You walk down the muddy path 
the naked tree branch stands tall like 
Spring’s tuning fork
dry oval-shaped leaves chime with cold winds 
the golden coin shines from cloudy skies 
you hear the pitter-patter of large grey squirrels 
a red robin camouflages itself behind ruby-red branches 
you place a hand against the tree’s skin and 
sense its old soul 
you are borrowed stardust born from the
same dark matter 
with Earth’s new season emerge many 
wombs and tombs 
Spring returns with a growing light and 
our cosmic course continues 

Staff Writer (Volume 48 & 49) — Paige is in her third year at UTM, currently completing a double major in Biology for Health Sciences and Psychology. She previously worked as an Associate Editor for A&E in Volume 47 of The Medium, and as a Staff Writer in Volume 48. When she is not writing review articles for A&E, you can find her watching rom-coms, writing inappropriate Letterboxd reviews, playing basketball, cruising on her motorbike, and fangirling over the icon that is Taylor Alison Swift. You can connect with Paige through Instagram and Letterboxd.

Staff Writer (Volume 48) — Serena is a third year Art History and Professional Writing and Communications student at UTM. As a creative, she's always been fond of viewing and creating art, and writing poetry.  If she isn't typing away at her desk, you can find her at an art gallery or museum, crushing an exercise, dancing to her heart's content, or cheffing-it-up in the kitchen.


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