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The Bangor University Writers’ Guild is a society dedicated to inspiring Bangor’s writing talent through activities, workshops, and peer feedback. Collected here are several poetic works that members have chosen to share with the world.

Royal by Dylan Finnan

Royal-rented tone dances

to the song of B flat

sustained across silk-sewn ridges

to rest on the tip of taste,

and coat the air

with confectioned dust

as the crown settles,

not on head

but texture.

The cold-paned petal lifts

to reveal the residue

of freshly laid sheets

left upon your lips

as the word itself pops twice.


Fearless by Bindu Peterhansl

Sometimes I close my eyes

And I can feel my heart pounding

My ribs a humble drum

To the quick paced cadence of my


A memoir to the wild

To the hoofed ones who’s feet drill into the earth

In grounded flight as they speed across landscapes untouched

Leaving in their wake those soft Indentations in the earth

Signatures of Journey

I see them in my mind’s eye as I sit in stillness

and know

That I am never still

That this throbbing in my chest is the reminded that keeps me

With them


Towards the unknown



Unnamed by M-A

Acceptance is a choice

And one that I intend to make

For my brothers and my sisters

For everything alive

The path I choose defines me

In a way in which I’m proud

As I for stand with with those

Whose plight needs our help


I choose to accept your race

I choose to accept your religion

I choose to accept your patriotism

I choose to accept your genders

I choose to accept our choice

I choose a world of love

I choose a world of peace


This is the world I wish for but it has yet pass

So I choose to fight those plights,

Of race, of gender, of religion, of love, equal rights, of ending war, of safe food and water, of victims and survivors, of the disabled, of the overlooked, of the disadvantaged and of the poor


For until their plights are resolved, they shall be mine too, and I think that they should become the plights of us all.


Thoughts by Bindu Peterhansl

There they are.

At my heels

(I hear them).

Lurking at the edges of street lights.


(I smell them),

The scent of decay

The drip drip of soggy fur

Trailing tepid pavement waters.

My mother told me not to feed them

-Leave the strays alone-

She said

-If you feed them they will follow you.-


She said

-If you name them

They become yours

And will always be a part of you

nipping at your heals till the end of time-

At least they are loyal though,

The scavengers with saliva on their jaws,

madness in their eyes.

Mans best friend.

At least they stay with you,

lapping up your own madness,

wet slobbery meat stink kisses to put you to bed

at night

when no one else will.

Because humans don’t really understand loyalty.

Because those nights spent hugging yourself to sleep aren’t enough.

Because even breath that smells of blood and death is warm on your neck

And any company is better than none.


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