Posts published in “Poetry”

By Cami Stephens | Assistant Editor

Smile. You must smile.

Don’t ever let your smile turn into a frown.

If you’re sad, don’t worry, a smile can help fix everything.

Did you forget to smile?

I try to smile in the mirror, but how do I smile when my brain only allows myself to frown.

I cannot force elation; my brain is too engulfed in devastating despair.

I know you get mad when I cannot smile, but I cannot fake it any longer.

I promise I’m not forgetting to smile, it doesn’t come naturally anymore. read more

By Maddie Willigar | Assistant Editor

After Aron Wiesenfeld’s “Greenhouse”

I remember standing here like an angel clothed in baby’s

breath: damp hair blowing in the wind by the greenhouse where

there was nothing left but buds and dew, no remanence but the

faint scent of you passing through like the wind softly

kisses the grass and leaves not a trace of itself behind.

I watched the buds struggle to bloom in their cage and

reach towards dim light. But what more could a mother

do except watch them grow only to know they would read more

By Daniel Dow | Editor in Chief

Greetings MWCC students,

Moving forward, the Mount Observer will feature a creating writing section spotlighting students’ poetry and short stories. In an effort to drive creativity and to interact with our community the paper will also post a writing prompt each month that is selected at random by rolling writing dice. Dice will be rolled to create a prompt for each of the five w’s (who, what, when, where, and why); the author will then need to use each of the rolled themes in their creative piece, which should be around 1000 words. When completed, your pieces can be submitted to mountobserver@mwcc.mass.edu and the journalism team will choose the most relevant, creative, and polished pieces to publish. All members of the college are encouraged to participate in this activity! read more

By Maddie Willigar | Assistant Editor

A chill still haunts my lungs from the words I never spoke.
They blew mistily through the air and carried weightless in the cold
because though I walked through walls for you, I was always just a
ghost.

Like an empty figure walking past your screens of smoke,
digging beneath your fire to find bits of treasured gold,
a chill still haunts my lungs for the words I never spoke.
Buried with my bones will be pieces that you broke
and left to sit in damp and filth, as they waste and rot and mold
because though I walked through walls for you, I was always just a
ghost. read more

By Cami Stephens | Observer Contributor

I remember the first day you bought me.
“Look how pretty that doll is! I want her!”
Your eyes widened with passion and infatuation.
If only I knew that passion would be influenced by fiery.

I remember the day you took me out of the box,
You brushed my long blonde hair and told me how beautiful I was.
You couldn’t stop showing your friends and family your new, unused
rag doll.
“She’s so precious! I love her!” is what you say– while you look at me
with obsession. read more

By Cody Nathanson | Observer Contributor

She drags the stool across the kitchen, vibrating against the tiles as it
moves.
With her eyes now above the counter, but beneath the bowl, she
reaches out.
Confident, she now holds the orange with both hands, jumping from
the stool.
As She now moves, so does her finger across the rind, looking for her
nail to catch.

Moving between the divide, her foot quickly finds the lip of the door
frame.
Catching herself, both hands now braced against the frame, she
stands.
She gives off a light breath, then another.
For across the room– on the armchair–the orange now sits. read more

By Skyler Elliot | Observer Contributor

Recently in the neighborhood, one of the apartments in a nearby
building has been under construction. There are two men who work
long hours to get the renovation done. They spend much of their time
performing exhaustive and tedious tasks. The laborious hours take
their toll on them as they both carry heavy buckets of equipment up
and down the flights of stairs.

For many, the day has come to an end. The sun is down, the cold air
moves in, but these men remain hard at work. As the snowstorms
arrive, they shift away from their construction work and begin to
prepare for what else is to come. Covered in dust and dried paint,
they layer up to combat the cold. The snowblowers roar and the salt
cascades across the ground. read more