the Forest
there are whispers in these woods
they call
to me Breathing
sweet nothings
born from blackberries
and figs The promise of purpose
pomegranate seeds
mashed by molars
mystifying It’s alive
and breathing
though the exhale doesn’t
stop
and the air has runs
and the lungs don’t
e x p a n d
between trees
the metallic clicking
a painful
gurgling The mouth of the forest
opens wide
stealing air
blood
body
from my soul
o u t s t r e t c h e d am I
doomed to the final moment
a death rattle
Soulful
Autumn leaves in piles
at your feet I smile
whisked up in the chill
of bare tree limbs
regal in poses
possessing the spirit
with promises of apple cider
and cinamon sticks
knitted sweaters
with kaleidoscope jewels
and amber sap
on sticky fingers
finding their way to
comfort in decay
an annual dance
of those bewitched
by western winds
Fortunate are those
with the autumnal soul
Content warning: mentions of blood, profanity
Nosebleed
I see red
smell pennies
am I bleeding out
my nose
or just my eyes
adjustments are needed
contact lenses or otherwise
I’m woozy
walking somewhere
my legs will carry me there
there is where i will go
I don’t know where
the world’s blurry
behind fluid-tinted glasses
how funny it is
that my body can’t contain itself
in lungs or lifeblood
the capacity to
spill over the side
and to want to
pluck reds from strawberry bushes
bell peppers come from bushes too
but you don’t see people picking them
because who’d eat a bell pepper
when life’s dripping
and you’re bleeding all over the fucking carpet
The blue fades into a warm yellow, and ultimately into darkness. I snapped this photo on my way back home, and this picture reminds me a lot of painting. With how the colors match and blend perfectly, I am reminded of music. Especially tempo, the blend of colors, releases a soft and steady beat. I can see a resemblence of a series of notes transcending up the keys. Especially with the architecture that makes up the beautiful law quad, it matches the mood of the sun setting, with the twinkling of the street lamps.
With this picture, I see Debussy’s works. Specifically, “Rêverie”, the notes perfectly blend together to produce a series of wandering sounds (Rêverie). This piece reminds me of a gentle good night song, transforming into a dreamy world. Much like the contents of this picture (the colors, street lamps, and night setting), Debussy’s “Rêverie” soothing sounds, encapsulate the beauty of fading colors.
Recipe from Hell
INGREDIENTS
1 garlic clove
5 sesame seeds
4 snake eggs
2 tbsp sage
1 fingerbone
DIRECTIONS
Mash the clove
Grind the sesame seeds
Crack the snake eggs
Whisk until incorporated
Crush the fingerbone finely
Sprinkle bone dust and sage into the mixture
Whisk vigorously until the souls of your enemies cry out
(from beneath the floorboards)
Bake until golden brown, or until the angels weep at your feet
Leave to cool in the center of your pentagram
Allow the hellfire erupting from the ground to crisp the edges
Dig in!
PIRATE SHIP FACT: During overnight sailing trips, shipmates who were not the captain would either sleep on hammocks, or the floor.
Wednesday, October 16th – 1:15 a.m.
I came into college hoping that my roommate and I’s dorm room would become somewhat of a hangout spot, yet now it has evolved into (basically) an additional Bursley lounge. Whether it’s a movie night, sleepover, or a “study session” that requires “locking in,” I always volunteer our room to be the medium.
After a long day of classes, a couple of us Bursley pirates had resigned to the blanketed floor of the room with our computers waiting patiently to be used for actual work. It was during this yap convocation that Krithi brought up Hawke Mountain.
As a Pennsylvania native, Hawke Mountain was just a two hour drive from her hometown. Internationally, it is the largest sanctuary for birds of prey, along with the grand caves, scenic views, and hiking trails that give tourists the social media worthy pictures. Unfortunately for Krithi, her ability to take pictures during that trip would cease to exist when her phone slipped and fell into one of the mountain’s cavernous crevices.
This story is supposed to be somber and make you, the reader, feel a growing sympathy in your heart for Krithi’s seemingly soiled vacation. However, once I saw the picture of Krithi sitting on a rock while a her experienced friend is head first in a cave looking for her phone, the experience seems almost worth it. In context, the idea that her dad saw her distraught while waiting and decided to take a picture is the icing on the cake.
Thankfully, Krithi has a fully functional computer, not stuck in a cave, that enables her to study Computer Science here at Michigan. Her story inspires us to keep our phones close and our family/ enemies with their camera apps open, closer.
Yours sincerely,
Captain Singh
