Penumbra

PenumbraPenumbraPenumbra
  • Home
  • Submit
  • Team
  • Writing & Art Prompts
  • 2025 Edition
  • Penumbra Weekly
    • This Week
    • Archives V
    • Archives IV
    • Archives III
    • Archives II
    • Archives I
  • More
    • Home
    • Submit
    • Team
    • Writing & Art Prompts
    • 2025 Edition
    • Penumbra Weekly
      • This Week
      • Archives V
      • Archives IV
      • Archives III
      • Archives II
      • Archives I

Penumbra

PenumbraPenumbraPenumbra
  • Home
  • Submit
  • Team
  • Writing & Art Prompts
  • 2025 Edition
  • Penumbra Weekly
    • This Week
    • Archives V
    • Archives IV
    • Archives III
    • Archives II
    • Archives I

Penumbra Weekly


Week of 11/3


Wisdom and the Half Beast


Perhaps you thought me nothing but an imbecile,

my mane wild, eyes bloodshot, entirely unruly and untamed.

I see you, standing there so poised, so regal

and I beg you to look closer, to see beyond the beast you think I am.


I would never think to reach for you with these hands—

for I know my place on this totem pole,

but if I could I would hold your hands to beg you to understand.

The burden of a creature who bound by longing for something more—

something beyond this wild form,

something more than the intricate love of Ixion and Nephele—

Is a torture more punishing than you could imagine. 


I see your strength, your conviction, and I tremble beneath it. 

Not with fear, but with desire not even you can satisfy.

The desire to be more than this savage beastly form. 

For I, like any other wild boar or dog, long for a specific intellect. 

The kind only provided by the intricacies of humanity.


Jaiden Jackson '27




Amelia Bargas '27



Tulips on My Skin


Your touch like petals against my skin 

Brushing past in a whisper of warmth 

Tulips blossom where you linger

Red and pink

Staining my skin


Your presence wraps around me 

The trace of your mouth 

Still blooming on mine

Soft and gentle 

Like the slow awakening in late May 


My strength unravels beneath your touch 

Even in your absence 

You remain a part of me

A part of the air I breathe


Soft blooms unfurling throughout the afternoon 

Bending and breaking to face the light

Leaning towards the sky, only to wither in its glow 

Leaving only shadows of where they once were

Each trace a broken promise 


My color draining 

Once a blazing crimson 

Now blushing gently 

Into a pale sigh of pink

Leaving me wilted

Yet my craving for you 

Inevitable 


You slip away

My petals fall, one by one

A reflection of what was once whole


Until I am nothing but a stem

Fragile and weak

Quietly yearning for your warmth 

A desire that remains

When all else has withered 


Logan Penske '27



Editor of Penumbra Weekly: Anika Vaidheeswaran

Guest Editors: Claire Silverman and Amelia Bargas 


Copyright © 2025 Penumbra - All Rights Reserved.


Powered by

This website uses cookies.

We use cookies to analyze website traffic and optimize your website experience. By accepting our use of cookies, your data will be aggregated with all other user data.

Accept