Young Writers Society

Though the whole world is open
for me, I’m fine where I am,
really; if only I never had to
leave. But sooner or later
I must choose to do something,

and none of my options are good.


tacenda (2020)
paroxysm (2019)
solivagant (2018)
evanescence (2017)
disenchantment (2016)

zugzwang i


quiet; quiet.
the birds are tut-tutting,
sun soaking the
wood of the porch,
spilling onto my back.

the wind, a sigh,
close-eyed, and I smile.

“I never want to leave”
these creaking floorboards,
the scent of rosemary,
the curve of your back.

“That’s not how this works.”

already, your fingers are
twitching towards your
untied shoes.

zugzwang ii


betrayal comes in subtle pinpricks,
prodding tears from the corners
of my eyes, like raindrops spearing
from the sky, piercing the soft
canopy of my shoulders.

my body shutters against the lies
of gently stinging wasps, crooning
their way towards me, leaving
red welts like footprints.

I would rather take
an open-handed slap from
the one who should have cared.

zugzwang iii


have we dragged ourselves through enough heartbreak, now?

we’ve been pacing each other step for step,
square by square, a dance in which we move
together, move away.

has it been long enough yet?

to become brothers in arms, give up this
tangled rivalry for something
truer; to be each other’s strength
when our legs give way.

you claim nothing has happened,
you choose to forget when
your mirror eyes say
we are the same.

when will you acknowledge what already exists?

an alliance.

zugzwang iv


shoulder blades cradled, curled
into the wood of the wardrobe
bracing me as I breathe
in the scent of cedar.

your voice vibrates through
old carpet and creaking floorboards,
reverberating; I'd know that timbre
anywhere. inches away, it's hard to
stay when muted piano chords

drift up from below; drawing my
knees to the hollow of my chest--
the house sighs, and I
am not separate.

zugzwang v


Car-crashed and heart
cracked, flash-back to
a year ago, the fear
tangling in my gut,
pressure strangling
my veins like a refrain
I can’t contain
my feelings
hit the ceiling—
whip-lash \\ backslash,
gears shift to reverse
in free verse, time to
rehearse my next words;
worse is the way I can’t
possibly convey
how I only want to stay,
stave off the decay while
the memories replay but

the rewind button is broken
and my words are still unspoken.

hi Que!!

well, I LOVE zugzwang v. I listened to your recording after reading and I just love the play with sounds in the poem through rhyme and similar sounding words. "car crashed and heart/cracked, flash-back" and "whip-lash \\ backslash" are my favorite lines in the poem.
I also really liked "how I only want to stay, stave off the decay" --> in your recording, stay and stave played off each other really well
Overall, the use of sounds really added to the intense, fearful sort of build-up in the poem.

I also really liked this stanza in iii:

you claim nothing has happened,
you choose to forget when
your mirror eyes say
we are the same.

great work so far!:)

Thank you SO much, @EternalRain !!! <3

zugzwang vi


the more I talk about God
the less I talk to Him.

it's an idealized relationship, ok?
the way you praise one person to the skies
until they’re right in front of you,
because the farther I am from a concept
the better it seems in hindsight.
or worse.

but all I know is that
I don't know you
anymore.

stories are easy enough to recount
for listening ears, or calling words truth
when they’re written on golden plates.
believing is different, the insides conceived
as something of substance, only

I don’t know what form I want
my faith to take.

zugzwang vii


Job: poet

Qualifications:
a somewhat airy disposition,
given to daydreams and
melancholy; nostalgia.
dwelling too much on the
past, and future, and the
makings of the world.
a knowledge of words,
of clouds, plants, and birds.
a desire to grow, a wish to change,
a thirst to learn.

Skills:
a firm hand with a pen,
a gentle hand with friends;
a way of putting phrases to thoughts
that have no verbal expression,
a wise (not productive) use of time.
finding meaning in loss,
order in chaos; finding homes for
lost things, finding yourself.

Why are you applying for this job?
something within me
howls in the night and I long
to set it free.

zugzwang viii


after a while, dawn will
begin, arrayed in golden
clouds through which sunbeams
dart. the light surrounds you,
engulfs you in its
fullness, twining with cut-
grass scent; the day whispers,
“hello,” and you smile.

in the meantime, birds awaken,
jubilant, singing to their
kin. softening your breath, you
listen, bare feet pressed against forest
moss and dirt, the earthworms
nuzzling at your toes.

oscillating leaves and
pond ripples; the world is
quivering with the freshness of
rebirth. it’s a new day and the
sun calls everything
to order.

underground, the earth thrums,
vibrating with the life of the
world; life loves all its parts,
xenophilic, and the day dawning
yellow glows bright as the sun nears its
zenith.

These are all very strong Que! I love your metaphors and the different emotions coming through each poem. Some favorites have to be the "Job: Poet" one & the abecedarian!

Why are you applying for this job?
something within me
howls in the night and I long
to set it free.

^^^ AH! I just love that <3 such a cool way to see the need to write poetry.

And then your abecedarian felt really effortless and smooth (which is so tough to do in that form!!) the echoey nature descriptions were lovely little scenes and this stanza especially was vivid:

in the meantime, birds awaken,
jubilant, singing to their
kin. softening your breath, you
listen, bare feet pressed against forest
moss and dirt, the earthworms
nuzzling at your toes.

^ every turn there is just spot on!

Also agree with Rain that I'm glad you included the recording of that earlier poem, it had great rhythm / sound in how you read it, and hearing the recording made it come alive even more. Looking forward to the rest of your napo Que!

zugzwang x


10 years ago
I lived one state away from where I am now
and I hated it. how did the tangled threads
all conspire to lead me here again?
9 months away
reminded me that my greatest fear is
never leaving home.
(it reminded me that some people
dream of my nightmare)
8 hours of sleep
and still I wake confused;
one day I won’t dream that I
have to leave.
7 days a week
and still time moves too quickly
my brain says, “get through it” but
I wish I could linger here.
6pm family dinner
with friends gathered round
at the table, and how I
want them with me always.
5 weeks left of school;
the relief of finishing finals
guttering in the wake of
moving out.
4 classes
still to pass
3 rooms
already empty
2 friends
I can’t bear
to be
without,

1 home.

zugzwang xi


the density of black rye bread
and lush zucchini spread,
cooled sausage and cod liver and
all manner of toppings for
a loaf that could be a meal
in and of itself.

the pink effervescence of
plum soda, a substance to be
sipped, sugary prelude to
savory dumplings, dimpled;
a contrast for the kvass that
slides cold and fast down
our throats.

how odd that a feast so rich,
feeding on traditions and roots
of a place so far away,

would be consumed by five college students cobbling together a meal?