IDs: On the left, an aerial photo of the Texas A&M Bryan campus. On the right, a painted postcard of the Academic Building on the Bryan campus. It's a wide, four story building of tan stone with a domed roof of green copper. A grassy courtyard splays around the front.
It's been a hot minute since I've shared any poetry here.
Starting in my third year of college, I transferred to Texas A&M University. To say it was an adjustment is mild. So many things to juggle -- Bus systems, building locations, living with roommates -- and so many things preoccupying my mind -- faith, toil, milestones, loss, patience. I'm thankful for my creative writing class, which encouraged me to pen my experiences, even if for a grade.
While I cook up some other really cool stuff for later, I hope y'all like this throwback to my junior year at Texas A&M!
One of Those Days | Sep. 13, ‘21
Unaware I’m okay, I sit at the computer.
Then, I see dates and words
My day is suddenly upturned
My fingers are hummingbirds and every breath is a sigh.
It’s going to be okay
It’s going to be okay…
Something is filling up behind my sternum.
Benign fluid at first,
but it turns into an orange heat, bitter
It’s going to be okay
It’s going to be okay…
The minutes pass – or hours?
The date hasn’t moved and neither have I.
The reassurance in my brain shrinks as the color behind my breastbone spreads
To my lungs. Then to my throat,
Like a sour, sickly green infection that chokes me ‘til I can only gulp shallow gasps
It’s going to be okay
It’s going to be okay?...
I’m going to burn and drown for hours after I’m free
Whatever lactic acid is to muscles
This is to my sanity
The Driver, The Stereo, & a GPS | Sep. ‘21
If Life Is A Highway
the ones who love me
don’t just ride shotgun. Stay
in one place with me
(and fix a broken GPS).
They’ve raised their thumbs on the street,
their voices chimed in on my radio,
they’ve driven in the back seat
though I’m expected to go
(and fix a broken GPS).
You taught me to drive, however.
You left a convertible in your will,
now I suffer every blaze and shower.
Run Away But Running In Circles
(fixing a broken GPS).
I’ve been excited for the destination
only to find every milestone
that’s wrapped in celebration
is a reminder I drive alone
(fixing a broken GPS).
How much time I wish I could steal
away from all I do wrong.
O Jesus Take The Wheel!
You always laughed at that song.
(Have you left me a broken GPS?)
The road is still here,
and I cannot escape it.
Don’t rhyme this with Fear!
I’ll probably have to scrap it.
(Have you left me, a broken GPS?)
I am so wrong.
Help me discern the signs.
Oh Woe, I’ve Fallen,
So I’m Taking My Time On My Ride.
He is the driver.
He is the road.
He is the car.
He is the stereo.
I’m wrong about many things,
including the fact I’m the driver.
Maybe I’m just supposed to sing
and ride shotgun to my Savior.
(May He fix a broken GPS.)
Century Tree | Oct. 4, ’21
Run, burdened with tools, to catch the bus.
Miss it?
That’s your fault.
Now suffer the consequences of your teacher’s pointed eyes and sighs.
Do your best.
And then do better.
They’ll move on without your poor, mistimed self.
Sit in the rows of dry wells and their masks.
Make no eye contact. That’d be weird. If you do accidentally, smile.
Only share the right answers.
I lay under this ancient tree, a living tent shielding the sun.
Younger me would have loved to try and climb it. I still do.
This is Who the institution was named after?
ID: A photo of the Century Tree on Texas A&M's Bryan campus. Its enormous branches drip across the ground, creating a circus tent sized shade. Credit: Pam Mcgaffin on Twitter @PMcB81
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