Thornéd crown, ensnared in a quiet hour, she’s
fair, but tainted. Breath trickles dull from fine lips
rested neatly over him, silken honey,
false on his marred skin –
darkness binds them. Spooling his fraying string, her
wilted stems cut swiftly, he weakens, frail: a
heaving muted heart in ribs; caged. She whispers,
Cassie Long is seventh-semester songwriting major at Berklee College of Music, finishing her studies Summer 2020. These Sapphic stanzas are inspired by Atropos, one of the three fates in Greek mythology. They comment on the conflicting energies of cutting the string of one’s life short.
Emblazoned in my consciousness,
the image of your face
contorted into an expression of I don’t know what in that Final moment,
when I held you
and fought hard to bite back tears that threatened to put my own pain on parade,
I tried to focus on yours.
I still remember walking through the park with you each day,
a contrived attempt to find some sort of routine that would take your mind off of
And how I felt
pouring what remained
into the sea
from a sailboat.
What you wanted.
The sun is setting now.
Do you see it? No.
You, of course, are already on your way across the wide Atlantic.
From youth, I learned to button up my shame.
To stitch my mouth with thread, like corpses. Though
they fabricate that I’m the one to blame,
When pain arises, I grab a needle and sew.
I hem emotions deep within my mind,
Abuse a thimble trick I read about,
And cross-stitch ‘til the problem’s in a bind
To fasten words I could’ve just let out.
Embroidered lips with glosses camouflage,
As though my inseams weren’t about to rip.
Hiding torment is self-sabotage,
So I grab some shears and make that final snip.
Don’t ever try to seal yourself with thread,
For lacing shut is only for the dead.
Haley Griffin is a recent graduate of Berklee College of Music with a major in Professional Music and concentrations in English and Songwriting. Griffin had a hard time choosing between pursuing music and English, but is happy she still got the opportunity to take writing courses during her time at Berklee. Outside of music, Griffin is working on completing her first novel.
The Milky Way is stirring life and limb
With gravity, through which its light-years bend
Above and over every cosmic whim;
Encircling the heights that we ascend
Are shooting stars, falling to meet the Earth,
Breaking frail skin that long years can never mend;
And blackened dirt, soiling its own worth,
Is tossed, flung about thoughtlessly as are
Sorrows upon the swollen face of mirth;
When single tears do reckon what is fair
And what is left to chance in one short life
A weary soul’s left scrounging for repair;
So what is one is one to make of all the strife?
A caring soul can only hope it’s brief.
Simon Hubbard came to Berklee in 2017 from his home town of Boulder, Colorado. He is a graduating senior earning a degree in Contemporary Writing and Production and is open to where his musical ambitions will lead him post-graduation. He has had a lifelong passion for music, but his additional love of literature remains a strong force in his life.
Moments linger longer than normal these days.
Clocks tick, scathingly slow, talking as they sit soundly
Mocking your pleas passively, they know it’s
Painfully quiet here.
Outside, shadows dance quick on nimble feet
Casting scenes on stark and thin walls, I follow,
Praying, with my compliance time will soften
Granting peace again.
Riley Goldstein is a singer/songwriter from Bedford, New York who is currently based in Boston.
there’s a venomous sparkle in her eyes
of glass- a death defying paradise
an ethereal trap, of divine disguise
both glamour and gore, a parasitic
phantasy- o when she slips through the door
she stirs up vitality, idyllic
yet perilous, what a wonderful war!
fireworks and fingertips, just one kiss
one kiss, one breath ignites a score
of bottles, bubbly bursting champagnes hiss
she is a cobra- both killer and cure
she is the nightfall- both violence and bliss
she is a grand affair, a poisoned sip
she is a godly kind of dangerous
Delaney Parker is a singer-songwriter from Scottsdale, Arizona.
It was a bee sting:
A quick pinch
I may forget as the swelling dwindles
but will gently leave a tiny scar I’d
Though my scars are
stories to tell over and over and
recall the softness of your eyes
that matched the way your hello
brushed my ear.
Say it again.