Poetry Section

Catch 22 of Love

By: Erin Yoo

Roses are sanguine

Violets are cerulean 

Love is intangibly tangible

And Valentine’s Day is a Catch-22


—


Roses are r e d, [c a r m i n e]

Violets are b l u e, [c y a n]

Sugar is     s w   e     e    t, [s  a c c h a r i       n   e]

And so is [February].

Luck

By: Vera Rudolphi

Luck had nothing to do with it.

The pot of gold just meant more.

I ran the race and I finished last

But I started a mile behind anyways so


What’s the point of caring,

All my hard work meant nothing,

All of the storms, they rocked my boat

And I’ve barely kept from sinking.


But I didn’t.

But I won’t.

The loser is the quitter who knew 

They could’ve done better.


I pulled myself from the gutter

Onto the field of clovers

I pulled away my covers

I let my eyes see the reason 


For working hard even 

When I knew it wouldn’t amount to anything,

When I knew all I could do would

Still be less than their lowest bar.


I started a mile behind but I pushed.

I finished a yard behind with nothing left to give.

Luck had nothing to do with it.

The pot of gold just meant more. 

Love Poem

by: Vera Rudolphi


To look upon love is to blind

My own eye.

To see it is to weep

Myself to sleep.


To hear its gentle whisper is to wonder

How many others

Have been made better under 

Its healing spell.


When Cupid’s arrow pierces

When Eros’s hand caresses

When Love itself blesses

I am left behind


I am forgotten

Or I shrink to nothing

So it cannot see me

So I cannot be given


What I wish to receive.

I can't Love you anymore

By: Vera Rudolphi

Because you kill me with your words and your smiles

That mean nothing more than the kindness that

Your very existence is made of.


When you wave at me in the hall,

I know it’s only because you caught me staring

And you’re too good to ignore me.


When you choose me to be in your groups,

I know it’s only because you felt bad that I was

In a corner of my own making.


You’re too good to be true,

Too smart to talk to,

Too lovely to look at.


I can’t love you anymore

Because to love you is to hate

Myself for hoping.