New Year's Resolutions
By Counterpoint Staff
Our hopes, dreams and resolutions for the new year (including learning to fight a goose). Will they come true in 2023?
Read MoreRammstein: My Will to Go On
By Addie Craig
I'm having a crisis. Specifically concerning what to major in. Which translates to the rest
of my life. Because my mind has warped this decision into ruling my existence thus far.
Read MoreBroken Merchandise
By Abigail George
you are crying before the dance
This poem arose out of a frustration with the simplication of the realities of sexual assault victims.
Read MoreDipping My Toes In
By Camryn Ward ‘25
I’ve always imagined time as the sea. Calming yet restless, gentle yet powerful, something that you can never get ahold of. Always pushing forward, always moving, but most of all, inescapable. I felt the weight of time press on to me this past summer, frequently finding myself counting down the days until I could finally return to school and get back to planning my future. Those days time would blur and pass by me, but never fast enough. By the time summer was over, I came across this poem:
“The Orange”
Read MoreA Declawed Cat
By Anonymous
Content warnings: references to self-harm
Anger is a problem. And I treat anger as a terrible person would a cat—if claws scratch things, remove the claws; if anger breaks things, remove the anger.
Read MoreNumb is Trapped in Numbers
By Li Yin ‘26
After a good cry from a scolding for being 2% away from 100%, for being one away from a five, I hold that gutting pain in my chest. It is at first blunt and piercing, but it slowly fades, and I let out a laugh. Every pore of my body, clogged by generational trauma, tightens. But laughter, and the boldness and unavoidance of its accompanying breaths, time and time again becomes another breath, becomes another step into clarity.
Read MoreWe Know No Balance
By Li Yin ‘26
The buzzing engine, the faint cabin light, the sharp cry of vexed infants, the muffled noise of food carts rolling. I wake up shivering with Hong Kong thousands of miles away. Or maybe more. Everything weaves together by chance, and the intricate, complicated, and unpredictable world carries us like the ocean carries a wooden vessel. The vessel floats, thinking it owns itself, its capabilities, its existence. But the next second the ocean may decide to swallow it whole.
I close my eyes again.
Read MoreA List of the Most Bitter, Sweet, and Bittersweet Things About My Time at Wellesley as Summarized by Headlines of Counterpoint Articles I Didn’t End Up Writing
(in chronological order)
By Parker Piscitello-Fay ‘22
No Really, Where Am I? (a case for more signage on Wellesley College’s campus and admitting you don’t have everything figured out)
An Ode to the Compassion and Honesty with which Esteemed Poetry Professor Dan Chiasson Approaches Discussions of Odes
It’s Tuesday, November, 2018 at 3:29 pm and the Idea of Shadow Grading is the Only Thing Holding Me Together (why we need to talk about first years when we talk about Wellesley’s stress culture)
Read More