today I wore pink and
today I wore pink and --- poems by students in ENG2003 Introductory Poetry Workshop | Summer 2026
Get On The Right Bus Nicolas Cornish I had done so much I had travelled so far The time I’ve spent It can’t be a mistake You need to keep going You can’t fall behind everyone else But the signs kept reading To a place I didn’t want to be I was scared of standing But I did As I got off I watched the wrong bus Drive Away And as I turned The road back was long But I knew That the right bus Would be Waiting for me
With You Nicolas Cornish What am I to do? Beset by a split decision What am I to do? Torn between two futures What am I to d- Ah, there it is With your hand in mine Whatever I do I do with you
Foolish Thought Griffin Goldberg she’s on the subway heading north wearing the past weeks beneath her eyes, same black boots on her feet that i’d once tripped over. she’s at her kitchen table, silhouetted in sodium light, hood up and splattered with rain and i’m at mine, and we’re talking through a can on a string, ear to the wall. when i wake up, and i’ve only got my foot in the door of the morning, i can hear floorboards creak in the hallway, and convince myself that she’s only gotten up to brush her teeth.
Saint Jude Parish Griffin Goldberg two young girls in the church yard are throwing around a plastic doll through the car window, i watch them drop it in the wet grass, pick it up, muddied, and continue smiling ear to ear
The Art of Noticing Emilie R. Eisenhard today I wore pink and everything is made of polyester and everything is so expensive and I played a stupid Roblox game and my hair got wet from the rain and I noticed how pretty her brown eyes are and I took a picture and I saw my cat yawn and why do we live and a plate got stepped on and I hate onions and
Scibbling Emilie R. Eisenhard
Incantation of Smoked Cigarettes Darby Raynor You can always find me in an ashtray somewhere on the balcony at the café at the bar. Or not in an ashtray at all on the sidewalk on the stoops and steps in the street in my clothes blown by the wind. The ashtray on the balcony was filled with rain and the chairs and the air and our hair were wet and we kept smoking anyway. Mine went out again and again because I’m clumsy I kept getting it wet and having to relight it. The flick flick then the fire illuminating our damp and happy faces. On the steps it was dark out and we'd all smoked two already still flick flick.
Stuck like statues to our seats. Once the beach was our ash tray salt and sand and ash stuck in sunscreen God we’re gross. Rinse sunkissed skin and repeat. After catastrophe tear stained face flick flick calm I’m glad you’re here. Serendipitous cigs between classes I only have five minutes flick me too flick. Cigarette butts sit in ashtrays everywhere chanting I was here I was here I was here.
scene from st. angelo bridge Darby Raynor yellow hair blowing under yellow european light– wind yelling to us. where is he going? with eyes shiny and bright, yellow hair blowing. the river beneath us is flowing with all its ancient might– wind yelling to us. the wind is blowing me, he holds on tight, yellow hair blowing. i told him, keep going. home is out of sight– wind yelling to us. it’s heavy, this heart i’m towing, but he is such a sight, yellow hair blowing– wind yelling to us.
At Dawn Emma Schweizer I wake at dawn Good morning, baby birds, Good morning, breeze, good morning, dew, on the leaves of the trees.
Limerance Emma Schweizer I liked his eyes. He liked my smile. I liked his laugh. He liked my dress. I liked his friends, too. He liked my curly hair. I liked his name. He liked my ass. I liked the way he made me feel. He liked the way I said his name. I liked him. He liked me too. We went back to his dorm; talked about our dreams and our plans and our lives. I fell under his spell. Unsure if I wanted to be his wife or just take off all my clothes. Both, Perhaps, He just wanted to have sex.
A Thin Line Between Love & Hate Kadasia Smith Messing with my man but he’s not even looking your way. Not claiming you. Not choosing you. Not even saying your name. You keep calling him “my man, my man,” but he doesn’t belong to you. He uses you for attention, for comfort, for access to something he won’t give back. And still you stay hoping he’ll change. Hoping he’ll listen. Hoping he’ll love you right. But love shouldn’t feel like chasing. And care shouldn’t feel like begging. “If he wanted to, he would.” That truth hurts more than anything. Because deep down, you already know.
What if? Kadasia Smith What if I told you I like you? Would you date me? What if I told you I want you? Would you want me too? What if I told you I wanted to meet your family? Would you welcome me, or keep me at a distance? See, the thing is, I don’t want to do anything you’re not okay with. I would only give so much of myself for you, or for anyone else. But what if I said let’s get married before we take that next step? Would you stay? Would you want forever, or would you only want what benefits you right now?
What if I told you I no longer want you because all you ever wanted was my body and not my heart? How would you feel? Would you get angry? Would you cheat on me? Would you leave me? Or would you act like none of it mattered? See, I don’t know the answers. That’s why I keep asking. What if I told you everything I’m feeling? Every fear. Every hope. Every question that keeps me awake at night. Would you still leave me? Or would you finally give me an answer? Because you can’t keep me in the dark forever.
So tell me— what if?
Editorial Decisions Kadasia Smith on Nicolas Cornish: I would like to highlight two of Nicolas Cornish's poems that really stand out to me. The first is “Get on the Right Bus,” which uses visual form so creatively to characterize the speaker’s journey. The staggered lines give a sense of movement along a path and capture the uncertainty of making the right choices in life. Its message about recognizing mistakes, changing direction, and moving forward is both relatable and inspiring. The seamless blend of form and content makes it a standout in the collection. The second is “With You (Revised),” which beautifully merges visual poetry with heartfelt storytelling. The repeated question, “What am I to do?” adds tension and reflects inner doubt, while the spacing on the page highlights the speaker’s internal struggle. The poem ends with a simple yet powerful realization that offers clarity and comfort. Its creative layout and emotional depth make it a memorable and impactful piece. Nicolas Cornish on Emilie R. Eisenhard: Emilie R. Eisenhard is a sapphic fiction writer dipping her toes into the world of poetry. "The Art of Noticing" was selected due to telling a vivid story through line spacing. The author jumped from line to line with lighthearted and playful ideas while breaking them with stark and more serious lines. "Scibbling" was nominated for using an interesting medium, being the cracked pavement floor. The author utilized the medium by writing their poem on the smooth side while leaving the cracked side empty. The author also utilized repetition in order to drive across the strong emotions conveyed in the poem. Darby Raynor on Griffin Goldberg: Griffin’s portfolio of poetry hones in on small snapshots of humanity. Their observant poetry captures small moments in great detail with beautiful language. We chose “Saint Jude Parish” and “Foolish Thought” because they both have such rich imagery. Even though “Saint Jude Parish” is only two stanzas, I thought about it for a while afterwards. It evokes a strong sense of nostalgia for childhood and the carefreeness that is lost upon adulthood. It almost feels like the author is yearning to be that carefree again.“Foolish Thought” also conjures such great images in the mind and leaves readers with so much to think about. Griffin Goldberg & Emma Schweizer on Darby Raynor: Darby's portfolio is a colorful and illustrative collection of works that explore what it means to be human. Darby describes their writing process as allowing ideas to find them when they sit down to write a poem, and the resulting pieces feel like moving through the subconscious of a stranger, exploring snapshots of memories as vivid images. The group enjoyed the fleeting sense of youth and connection present in “Incantation of Smoked Cigarettes,” and the dreamlike collage of snapshots assembled in “scene from st. angelo bridge.” The emotions that resonate with “Incantation” feel youthful, fun, and natural. It uses strong imagery and verbage to describe the ''session'' of smoking and what goes on behind just lighting a cigarette. Darby is a gifted poet whose vivid
imagery and striking attention to detail bring every poem to life, immersing readers in scenes they can see, feel, and experience. elliott horowitz on Emma Schweizer: I love “At Dawn” for its simple, grounding presence. By merely repeating “good morning,” Emma is able to place the reader in the shoes of the poem’s speaker, and we hear the baby birds, we feel the breeze, and picture the dew glistening in the poem’s lovely ending rhyme (breeze, leaves, trees). I opted for “Limerence,” too, for the power of the simple line “perhaps,” an exemplary line break that works to create near- antinomic meaning when reading it with the lines above and below it. “Perhaps” is the kirejic fulcrum on which the “she” and “he” of the poem balances. Emilie R. Eisenhard on Kadasia Smith: "What If?" showcases Kadasia’s ability to build tension and also shows vulnerability while exploring fear, love, and uncertainty in relationships. Both poems demonstrate a strong voice and keeps it in the mind of readers long after finishing reading. "A Thin Line between Love & Hate" is well-structured, relatable, and direct. The repetition and clarity towards the progression of realizing that "if he wanted to, he would" make it very impactful.