Dalhousie Poets
Dalhousie poets: identity and location
Canadian winter The carpet of my one bedroom Squirms in its pixelated glory. It is dirty because the vacuum is broken And I am young. And the third or fourth best-ranking views in this city Are from buildings open to the public in the daytime hours. This is nice to know But we can’t smoke out here, Which will…
Read MoreDal poets: thoughts on heartbreak
The moment you realize When I walk outside, the earth and sky thrum good morning. I know even without you, I am never alone in a world so rife with life. I take a deep breath of the clean air. And for the first time feel like I can look back without wanting to go back, and…
Read MoreDalhousie Poets: change
They say, turn the last page Give way to a new age Go play on the next stage Don’t stay in your old cage A new day, a new change A little gay, a little strange An old day, an old shame All the grey, all the same Every start shall end Every end soon…
Read MoreDalhousie Poets: another year
New Year, New Me It’s that time of year again Time to start fresh But the slate is never truly clean A new resolution does not mean you’re a new person The actions you take to achieve greatness do Greatness is never born It is built Be greater than the person you left behind last year Become more…
Read MoreDalhousie Poets: aftershock
This piece was written after the earthquake in Izmir, Turkey on October 30, 2020.
Read MoreDalhousie Poets: growing pains
Editor’s note: This piece was first published in an online issue of the Dalhousie Gazette (issue 5, volume 153). The following version has one additional poem than the original piece. doodles i wonder what this whole growing up thing is like the similarities between my old self and this hurried, charcoal sketch of a college girl …
Read MoreDalhousie Poets: layers and time
Layer by layer Fundamentally, Torn down to the bulb at the centre of her, She was afraid. Everything she was composed of Built outward from that undiluted disturbance of self, And from that hatred, And then rage, And then the pulp of the rest of her, bleached white from being washed up and Dried on loathing. She…
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