Poem Battle
For this week’s Features, two poets were shown this image and then asked to write a poem inspired by it. Who wrote it better? Tell us on our Xavier Newswire twitter: @xaviernewswire.
Germinal
At the genital quick of the earth,
Fulcrum of the turning world, where
The red tongue drives the hurtling
Of pearlescent flesh: an eternal bauble forms,
Glimmers, as if in the stasis of an undisturbed lake.
It gives the dappled moonbeams of silver fur
A silhouette of time, encompassed
In the tiny, incongruous whorl of its form. A red tongue
Passes between folds; melismatic slimes shudder
From l’origine du monde with the substance that creates,
The anima that transmutes the eternal to the evanescent.
A dewy cyclicality arrests the gesticulations of the muscle
With a stillness, a curiosity, a beginning,
Whose inception sparked from the touch of tongue to flesh,
A communion of washing and pleasure,
A Eucharist of soft genitals. The gaze follows,
Associates, transposes the minute animalism
To the smile of the fist, the vivacity of the acorn,
The resting heartbeat’s lullaby, the sunning extension of the leaf,
That seem to be only a smattering of images,
And yet encompass a curvilinear timeliness
That comes into being from an origin of sex, a mouth
Bending flowerlike to the reddened erotic.
How beautiful, that life comes from a dance of tongues and sexes,
That the abstract is a result of jouissance!
For the dynamism of the world’s engendering
Lies enclosed in the stillness of lapping,
Wet sounds throbbing a newly revealed silence,
As incarnadine as the mouth itself, the tongue, the force,
The pleasure, the fulgor, all precipitating a dissonance of motion
And rest, quivering as if with the aftershocks of orgasm.
The world, unfurling from its cynosure,
From trellises of time that disclose a renewal in the infinitesimal,
Begins from the omniscient, the universal in the singular,
From the germinal substances, preordered in the ekphrasis
Of the surrounding starlight, concealed in the maelstroms
Of the glissandos, the discord, the ultramarine.
By: Sofie Simonet | Staff Writer
moondog
oh sweet ouroboros dog,
do you like what yr licking,
wrapped up like the moon?
are you even only a dog?
or are you a half-something
laying beneath the stars,
stretched out to accept all around you,
carelessly, freely licking
all that you have,
w/ yr head nearly hidden
between yr back legs,
becoming the infinite inbetween.
oh sweet ouroboros dog,
do you like what yr licking,
wrapped up like the moon?
By: Kevin William Thomas | Staff Writer
Horoscopes
Aries: Okay, you may not have a lot going for you this week, but at least focus on what you do have. Like…uh…at least six hours of sleep? Maybe?
Taurus: You might have been noticing some injustices — like an on-campus eatery overcooking your food for the third time in a row. Challenge them to a cooking battle and crush them.
Gemini: Be wary of a buddy dropping the ball on you. A group partner not pulling their weight, a friend not paying you back or maybe an actual literal ball. Try to steer clear of bowling alleys.
Cancer: Just as your career demands more of you, those in your social life want more attention. Satisfy both areas by writing a letter that you are giving up on life and vanishing from existence.
Leo: Is Easter Break here yet? No? Okay, is it here now? Please???????
Virgo: Jealousy may rankle you this week. It’s easy to focus on those you feel are “above you,” but the only thing you should be jealous of are the super cute service dogs in training.
Libra: If you have roommate troubles, it’ll start with a Vine dad who shouts, “WHO WANTS TO GET CRAZY FOR NEW YEAR’S?” And end with a daughter smashing glass.
Scorpio: You know that meme of cats who get those echo-y microphones, and everyone laughs at their meows instead of respecting their moving speeches? You’re those cats.
Sagittarius: The stars would recommend to minimize any and all risks you could possibly take this week, but then the stars remembered that your whole college education is a risk.
Capricorn: Criticism hurts, but it will ultimately make you stronger. For example: no, the horoscopes cannot continue to be written in Comic Sans after the April Fool’s edition.
Aquarius: Try to follow logic this week. Sleeping in = missing class = failing. But also, sleeping in = feeling great and not sleep deprived until guilt overcomes you. Pick your poison.
Pisces: If you still have dining dollars, it’s about to become the Hunger Games for you. Don’t tell anyone about your fantastic wealth, or alternatively become a messiah and give it all away.
This post was assembled by Features Editor Soondos Mulla-Ossman