By Bryton Buckaloo, creative writing major
we were given the ultimate peace offering.
This offer had its moments of severance,
verity & all I was still unseen.
I had soon realized the differences in the air between us.
you had told me this was the “happiest you had ever felt”
but I knew that we tended to lie to one another.
Our love was nothing but a toddler of coherence.
We wanted to achieve the world,
But never in the same place.
How foolish could I have been to learn the passage of acceptance?
You often reminded me of how naïve I sounded,
I found it quite unsettling.
It was your love language after all.
What a dull attempt it was,
to suede, a peace offering that had no silver lining.
our wedding vows were a dull attempt.
By Delle Cruzan, general sciences major
The smell captures me
For as long as I remember I have wanted to
Run into the fog
Surround myself in leaves
Make everyone forget about me
I want the tranquility that leaks out of the leaves
Want to bury myself in this dirt
Feels like everyone has a purpose
Waiting on mine is hard
Is there such a thing as a perfect pursuit?
I don’t think there is
I may as well have fun
Is that the right thing to do?
I can’t write about politics
I love the honking geese
And the lush snow
I may not have any hobbies
But I will happily be a bystander as long as I can while the hemispheres fall in love and I get to watch the lightning seduce the grasslands
I want to conserve, preserve, absorb
Never enough to satiate
Captivated by the way the leaves are
They whisper a language I would pay to speak
A peace that surpasses all understanding
Everything is happening all at once
On its own time
And I know everything is still yet to be seen
Crashing into my heartbeat
Run away with me
I wrote this poem at a time when I was in a transition stage. I found relief in observing the intense Oklahoma weather but more specifically, how each season and each different aspect of nature reacted and continued to react to this weather, how despite the chaos, time passes and beauty is continually created. I hope this poem provides comfort to someone who has also experienced the many transition stages that life can bring. There is concrete in the flood and stillness in the downpour.