Poems to Get You Goin’

Hello fellow prose enthusiasts,

We’re still riding the high of Poetry Night here at Medlit. We got to hear from students across all years (shout out to Trevor and Jon for making that sentence possible) and it was so refreshing to be able to share and express art with our peers. Thank YOU to everyone who came out, shared work, or expressed support- it means so much that this initiative was supported and appreciated. It was one of our favorite events this year and something we hope to bring back every term for 2017/2018 school year! So don’t fret if ya missed it this time around.

Here are a few select poems that were read at the event-

Exclusively on Venus

Roses are red / violets are transsexual / welcome to womanhood / now get to work honey

Roses are performative / violets are biological / I have very sensitive breasts / and so do your breasts

Roses are biological / you have the nicest skin / I can’t stop kissing you / let’s read more nondualistic queer theory

Roses are fed up / with our binary fetishes / I fucked my doctors / and stole all the medication to hide it in a cave and share it with other trans people

Roses have got me / up against the wall / kissing my neck / which is socially constructed to be a super hot strong feminist neck

Roses are violet / violets are roses / I really like you / I like you tube

Roses are born this way / violets have a lesbian streak / something about your dry sense of humor and our soft intertwined limbs / feels transcendently female

Roses are blue / violets are violet / roses are nonviolet / blue is bluenormative

Roses are from mars / violets had the whole surgery / setting up camp / exclusively on Venus

Roses have gone too far / not to be what girls are made of / I’m coming out / to my academic colleagues as a poet and I bet they will run away screaming

Roses are roses / violets are born this way / someone’s got a hoard / of heteronormative transaffirmation porn you say?

Roses are cheeky / I want you to fuck me / drown violets like an accused witch / in your arms which feel like mine

Violets got a name change / roses changed a pronoun / we ate at a restaurant / and forgot to put the leftovers in the fridge

Roses are trochaic / violets have their original plumbing / let’s march in a protest / then go home and we’ll cook something delicious and eat it with a spork

Violets are permanent / roses are impermanent / thank you for becoming me / offering to embrace your form your fate

Flowerbeds are umbrellas / umbrellas are rubrics / I support your identification / and your disidentification

Men are from women / roses are from Jupiter / women are from men / I can’t tell which is softer, your lips or this pillow or the snow descending gracefully outside

Discovered a Medlit member wrote this collection of poems and have to share!!! Click the image to read the collection 🙂

If I could help you
If I could help you, buddy, I would
I really would
I’d pray for you
I’d make muscles appear on your back
I’d take you to a bridge
that people think is beautiful
if there were the slightest chance
that you’d like it
I’d get you that motorcycle
Id put your songs on the jukebox
if you were a singer
I’d help you step across
that crack in your life
I’d die for you on the cross again
I would do all these things for you
because I’m the Lord of your life
but you’ve gone so far from me
that I’ve decided to embrace you here
with my most elusive qualities
You always wanted to be brave and true
So breathe deeply now
and begin your great adventure
with crushing solitude

Leonard Cohen, Book of Longing


Noah Capurso

We are taught that the brain

Is a set of highways;

Corpus callosum,


Optic radiation.

But there are other roads, as well.

Scenic neural backroads

That are hidden from view;

Dusty and seldom used.

Sometimes we can see them

When the highways are down;

From cancer,


Or a stroke.

Our patient had a brain tumor.

We tested her highways

With a feather drawing;

“What is this?” we asked her.

And the answer she gave

Came by the scenic route;

“A leaf

That fell

From a bird.”


William Ernest Henley

Out of the night that covers me,
      Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
      For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
      I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
      My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
      Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
      Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
      How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
      I am the captain of my soul.
Lastly, we have a song by Mount Eerie that might make you weep. His newest album, A Crow Looked At Me, was written in honor of his wife, who recently passed away of pancreatic cancer. His insight into the grieving process is poignant and striking, and should be required listening for physicians.

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