TheBurg

You're a feeling in myself I can't express. bY JuLIA FreIDLY e car halts by the gas pump Underneath glaring yellow lights. I get out, car door echoing through the lot Against the small building's brick walls. Inside, I join the few people Sitting alone on the benches Or enjoying the company of a mutually silent companion. I buy a coffee and let the steam drift over my smiling lips. No one is in a hurry. No one disturbs the serenity we have found here. ere is a certain sense of human connection As we come together for merely a blink of existence. People come and go here. is is no one's destination, Merely a place that they pass through While a hint of something more still lingers. I return to my car under the smoldering yellow lights And look at the washed-out sky, Unable to see any stars behind the haze. Still, I know they are there, as they always are. Julia Freidly is a junior computer science major at Penn State Harrisburg. bY eLIZAbeth beLL Torn sneakers with frayed laces grip onto unstable rocks. Stepping on crumbling stone pushed aside by thin gaunt blades of grass. e summit of a mountain like an empty theater, yet you still wait for applause. e peak of vast nothingness, a success or another disappoint dripping with rage? Still standing hunched, listening closely, as the wind whispers of different dimensions Mosquitos give blood instead of taking it. You are no longer a warm beverage, you're a patient to this delicate gray nurse. Oh, see the panting wolf ! Fleshy pink jowls, snout in a snarl! Simply a sheep in wolf skin, deadly and dangerous, risible, truly a walking sweater. Guns lead not into the temptation of massacre, Each dull and heavy bullet is transformed into a penetrating cure for cancer. e ritual of showering, changed into a transforming tantalizing revelation; Warm purified tears of god splashing against deceased skin, may they live again. e desire for such fanfare is a commentary on you however, Life is dismal and dreary when you have no passion. e all-consuming radioactive explosion that propels you forward, or, Is it the momentary pause of molecules, the breath of nature caressing your face? Create a stew of fervor, bubbling up with a splat. It's time to- Release your soul, a white spirit, a mist hardily discernable, or, A mashup of memories so thick and lively, surging with a sting of energy. Conquer the mountain inside, let erosion smooth your jagged edges. e mountain underfoot is a dream. Drool dribbles out of your cracked mouth. Light flickers across your toad like skin, images of adventures, reflect off your oily face. Rise up from your faded blue couch, step away from the crusty stains, and be present in society. Take your unscrupulous life by the neck and strangle out every inhibition When it is blue, veins panicking, mind thundering, black starry eyes bulging, Plant your embryo of metamorphosis. Elizabeth Bell is a first-year environmental science major at Penn State Harrisburg. Periodically, eBurg features creative works by students at Penn State Harrisburg. In this issue, we feature several poems in honor of National Poetry Month.

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