Graduate (after Mark Strand)

Samantha Stevens

I sat and stared at the picture
projected onto the wall.
Two brothers stood- one arm wrapped
around their father, one wrapped
around their diplomas. The sun formed
lines of light across their faces
as they smiled, exposing the white
of their teeth.

You never realize
in the moment that you are already
becoming part of the past.

The first hints of spring are here.
I have already begun to experience
the things a new group experiences
each year for the first and last time.
The world will soon begin
to tell us we do not belong here.
The feeling that something waits
for us somewhere out there will pull
us from the comfort of the shade.

I will look in the mirror and ask,
“Is my reality the sum of my intentions?”
I will realize too late that time,
whether you ask it to or not,
will catch up with you eventually.

Catullus Carmina 76

Siqua recordanti benefacta prior voluptas
est homini, cum se cogitat esse pium,
nec sanctum violasse fidem, nec foedere nullo
divum ad fallendos numine abusum homines,
multa parata manent in longa aetate, Catulle,
ex hoc ingrato gaudia amore tibi.
Nam quaecumque homines bene cuiquam aut dicere possunt
aut facere, haec a te dictaque factaque sunt.
Omnia quae ingratae perierunt credita menti.
Quare iam te cur amplius excrucies?
Quin tu animo offirmas atque istinc te ipse reducis,
et dis invitis desinis esse miser?
Difficile est longum subito deponere amorem,
difficile est, verum hoc qualubet eficias:
una salus haec est, hoc est tibi pervincendum,
hoc facias, sive id non pote sive pote.
O di, si vestrum est misereri, aut si quibus umquam
extremam iam ipsa in morte tulistis opem,
me miserum aspicite et, si vitam puriter egi,
eripite hanc pestem perniciemque mihi,
quae mihi subrepens imos ut torpor in artus
expulit ex omni pectore laetitias.
Non iam illud quaero, contra me ut diligat illa,
aut, quod non potis est, esse pudica velit:
ipse valere opto et taetrum hunc deponere morbum.
O di, redite mi hoc pro pietate mea.

Translation by Samantha Stevens
If man gains any pleasure by remembering former good deeds,
when he believes he is pious
and has not violated a sacred promise or abused divine
power to deceive men in any pact with the gods,
much joy remains for you in long life, Catullus,
created from this ungrateful love.
For you have said and done whatever men can say and do well for anyone, but
all these things you have presented to an ungrateful mind have perished.

Therefore, why do you suffer more?
Why not be firm in your mind and recover and cease to be miserable
in front of the unwilling gods?
It is difficult, but it must be done at any cost.
It is difficult to set aside a longstanding love.
This is the only defense, and you must overcome your misery,
whether it is impossible or it is possible.

O gods, if it is your will to have pity,
or if you have ever helped anyone
who faced death itself, look at miserable me and,
if I have lived purely,
remove this plague and ruin from me,
which stealing upon me as a lethargy in my limbs
expelled the happiness from all of my heart.

I no longer ask for her to love me in return,
or, for her to be chaste, because it is impossible:
I only wish to be healthy and put aside this horrible disease.
O gods, grant me this wish and reward me for my piety.

Walls (a sestina)

Samantha Stevens

She turned her back on the past
And pinky promised herself to be strong
Her only remaining fear- seeming weak
Now the rushing wind alone could bring tears
Instead, her emotions crash into walls
Only seen by others in the form of her scars.

Scrapes from contests of conceit, his only scars
He laughs at photos of himself from the past
Only those closest to him would see he puts up walls
Outsiders look and wonder how he can be so strong
Rough day ahead if even his eyes shed tears
Still, his shoulder comforts all who feel weak.

Judgmental eyes glance once and label her weak
She constantly reminds herself of her scars
Each disappointment forms a new puddle of tears
Tunnel vision prevents her from revisiting the past
A tower built of high expectations is only so strong
Words of encouragement head straight for the walls.

Dismayed by the loss of the life framed on her walls
She lashes out on herself each time she feels weak
Awaiting an independent life where she can feel strong
But she feels no shame at the sight of her scars
As long as they remain just a memory of her past
Only the mirror knows the sight of her tears.

The family breaks at the sight of her tears
Exclamations of anger and dejection bounce off the walls
Never speaking above a whisper of ghosts from her past
Stay together for them, do not show you are weak
Ignore all our shortcomings and cover the scars
Fight endlessly to make a broken unit strong.

Taught by those around me to always be strong
Bottle up the frustrations until they escape as tears
Ignore the bruises so they become faded scars
Write down my worst fears and tape them to the walls
A united front of happiness suggests I am not weak
Fight forever to keep their futures from becoming my past.

Regardless of our relationship with our past
At times, all of our sturdy foundations will go weak
Some attack, some evade them but we all have our walls.