Welcome to the Collegian, a student-created literature and art publication.
RECENT POSTS
SUBSCRIBE BY EMAIL
Enter your email address below to receive notifications of our new content by email.
BROWSE POSTS
-
Memory Of A Playground
Watching soap bubbles boil from the lips of children and the playground slides being swept clean into the evening by vengeful breezes and the lilt of autumn mothers hushing the newborn to sleep. The soft breath which bubbles over cots drowning them, sustaining them. Addicting them to one place. Does it ever change? Even after…
-
Better Time
Two people walk into a bar. It sounds like the start of a bad joke, and it sort of is one. Two people who used to be kids walk into a bar and sidle up next to the marble countertop and pull out each other’s stools with a familiarity so flawless it looks rehearsed. The…
-
butterflies perched on petals
Flowers flutter alongside the winged pollen and gliding buds as they race in the wind. Love is in the air, in the swaying trees, the ground below and the sky above. Yet, this couldn’t be any more problematic. At the end of the street sits a blue house, with peeling paint that’s almost a dull…
-
An Uncomfortable Feeling
My lips hurt, like a lot. Not exactly my lip, but the cardinal structure of my face—it feels sore and strained—like tender beef that’s about to fall off the bone. I do my usual motion of roughly rubbing my face, sloppily massaging it so the pain goes away, but it really doesn’t work—I can still…
-
Hieroglyphics
Hieroglyphics: Ink, falling off of lines, its night-black hair swimming violently through the air. Secrets whisper between her strokes, hiding muffled meanings- the blurring ofunsure words. You never know, you never could read; her lines and arches contain only shape, where all understanding and meaning has escaped. Her moves are…different (to say the least) all…
-
How Would You Reply?
Lyrics taken from Henry Moodie’s Drunk Text. Our first words were exchanged at a philosophy lecture, where he sat in the very front and spoke not infrequently about the inherent goodness of human nature. I ambushed him on his way out to argue with his views. He laughed and asked me if I wanted to…
-
The Final Performance
The way she speaks is frantic. “Can’t you see the possibilities? I’m telling you,” her steps echo out in the deserted lab, in the deafening silence, but she continues because nothing else matters now. “This will change the world as we know it…” Ada’s voice is usually hard to understand, but even more so in…
-
Strangers
Eyes were always the hardest to face. Crowds of people, strangers, passed me as I waded through their masses, keeping my gaze to their blurring hair, clothes and smiles– anywhere but their eyes. The day grew hotter as the hours ticked by, where the rush and excitement to escape school filled the summer air just…