Impressions 1996

impressions 1996

Contents Untitled + by Mary A. Halverson ................................................................................................................................ Cover Untitled h) Barbara Bolton ............................................................................................................................................... I Untitled by cole .................................................................................................................................................................. 2 Untitled by cole .................................................................................................................................................................. 2 The Darkness Within by Jennifer J. Hanel ........................................................................................................................ 3 Titanium Id by Jennifer J. Hanel ....................................................................................................................................... 4 Seven+ by Ross Hanson ...................................................................................................................................................... 5 Faded Hues by I.a. robinson ............................................................................................................................................... 5 Only A Thing b) K.C. Hanson ........................................................................................................................................ 6 I Remembered Until I Could See by Barbara Bolton ....................................................................................................... 8 Entertain1uent by Dan Brinson .......................................................................................................................................... 9 Stillness hy Meloni Alene Lowman .................................................................................................................................. 10 Priceless: Nature Free by Melani Alene Lowman .......................................................................................................... II lu My World by jaLL. ....................................................................................................................................................... 12 Knock in December by K.C. Hanson .............................................................................................................................. 13 Lot by Dianne Hardy ......................................................................................................................................................... 14 Untitled by I.a. robinson ................................................................................................................................................... 15 Coffeehouse Perk by Brant J. Wandner ........................................................................................................................... 16 Untitled by Karen A. Helm ............................................................................................................................................... 17 Affirmation by Chandra Mengel ...................................................................................................................................... 18 Untitled* by l.u. robinson ................................................................................................................................................. 19 Inolvidable by Yvonn Quijano .......................................................................................................................................... 20 Unreal by Ryanne ............................................................................................................................................................. 2 1 r\0! by K.C. Hanson ........................................................................................................................................................ 22 Does Anyone Ever Know Bow I Feel by Jill Lindsay .................................................................................................... 23 What My Eyes Tell Me by K.C. Han~on ......................................................................................................................... 24 Cranial Projections+ by Jennifer J. Hanel ...................................................................................................................... 25 Nigerian Fantasy+ by Barbara Bolton ............................................................................................................................. 26 Untitled by Yumei Wu ..................................................................................................................................................... 28 Untitled by Stephen Bradley ............................................................................................................................................ 29 On A Rainy Day by Misten Lee Schwarz ........................................................................................................................ 30 Valentine's Day* by Charles Bauer .................................................................................................................................. 31 Misha by Jasmine Huether ................................................................................................................................................ 33 Sasha by Yvonn Quijano ........................................................................................................................................ ........... 34 Discovering Pearls by Barbara Bolton ............................................................................................................................. 35 Hard Day At Work+ by Yvonn Quijano .......................................................................................................................... 36 Creation b) Jennifer J. Hanel ........................................................................................................................................... 37 DupJjcation by Yumei Wu ................................................................................................................................................ 38 Imagination Starts With "l,M" by Melani Alene Lowman ........................................................................................... 39 My Life by Misten Lee Schwarz ........................................................................................... ........................................... 40 Untitled* by Nil a Rorvik ..................................................................................... ............................................................. 41 Through the Eyes of the Beholder by Kristine Dassinger .............................................................................................. 42 Neanderthal by Ross Hanson ........................................................................................................................................... 43 The Farewell Ne... er Said by I.a. robinson ....................................................................................................................... 43 Untitled by Nila Rorvik. .................................................................................................................................................... 44

* Denotes firM place winner in the student contest. + Denotes runners up.

impressions 1996

Co-editors Kristine Dassinger K.C. Hanson Yumei Wu

Faculty Advisor Dave Solheim

Copyright 1996 by the editor of Impressions. All future rights to material published in this journal belong to thi! individual authors. and any reproduction or reprinting of this material may be done only with their permission.

Prologue

by Kristine Dassinger

Marisol once said, "Whatever the artist makes is always some kind of self-portrait."

Every word of a poem, every image of a prose, and every line of a piece of art lives inside its creator.

It takes a mighty pen and a willful mind to drain the essence of Life and truth into a work of art. The artists of Impressions express themselves in the following pages which in itself is a portrait of its creators and a piece of art.

Many lhanks to all who contributed and helped make Impressions 1996 come to life.

We hope you enjoy the poetry. prose, and art that we have selected. When you arc done reading Impressions, maybe a bit of inspiration will surge in you for submission to next years's literary magazine.

Barbaraluntitlc.!d

3 '/"

sadness surrounds me my warm blanket of filth floating suspended weightless transparent skull cradles my pulsating brain heaving... slamming my conscious driving will to transcend my loss...my hate leaving you all behind in the blinding flame of my purification

need ... feral hunger licks at my frightened soul cringing, gasping innocence is eaten away agony's sicked tooth flays sinew from bone tasting tongue roughs blackened edges wounded cries mingle with unholy screams of delight depression's playground

cole

2

,.

The Darkness Within

by Jennifer J. IIane) Between silver moonbeams The shadow dancers creep; Their silence be not broken From inside their souls they weep.

The sun. and old acquaintance, The joy of contentment slain, The chill of Night reminds them of their banishment to Pain.

Evil spirits lurking Through the depths of hearts divine; They steal prectous innocence From the purest of all minds.

We aJl have shadow dancers Taking refuge in our souls~ Every heart has its dark side That allows the wrath to 11ow.

So turn hatred into passion.

Bring Iight to all you do; Let your goodness conquer darkness Or let the darkness conquer you.

3

Titanium Id The child screams And loses the game; A struggling beast Remains untamed.

The child weeps.

Without consolation, And views its life An abomination.

The child cowers, Forever imprisoned In fear and mistrust And horrified visions.

The child smiles And wonders why It has never Learned \At hen to cry.

Jennifer J. Hanel 4

Tics choke.

Marriage strangles.

Broccoli kills.

Ross !!anson

Faded Hues

If you are a ruby then I must be jade Compliments. opposites Together our waters muddy But apart.

Our Vibrance fades.

I. a. robinson

5

ONLY A THING

by K.C. Hanson EVERY bar has its innocent and every innocent has his bar. I¡ iII's was no exception.

Two posts and a wood bench separated a small tile dance floor and nappj pool table from the bar Time had decorated the interior to barn gray and cigarette smoke hung e'en '"hen no one was there.

Zack Hardin sat leaned back against the bar monitoring the IO\\ hum of mostly male patronage as he watched the band set up. I le wore his oldest pair of jeans and a wrinkled western shirt untucked. with his Case baseball hat cocked too far back. He admired a petite long haired brunette with a mouse face wearing a knee-length black spandex skirt and red flannel top. She was what he called a redeeming factor.

The Band opened with a Merle Haggard tune, "Rainbow Stew." too fast with a blaring bass. The lead singer had a voice made for Waylon and slaughtered the lyrics. Zack figured the youngest to be fifty and the soberest to be sixty-two.

There were four of them if your counted the drummer as a musician. He was a little off.

The brunette made her way to the bar and ordered a Cools Light. The bartender, a short man in a muscle shirt. bought her a tequila shooter instead and leaned across the bar making googly-eyes. Zack could tell he was on tip-toes. She slammed it and ordered her beer again.

Zack leaned forward as she grabbed her bottle b} the neck and came towards him.

"Hello Ma'am. would you like to dance?" he asked.

"Sure," she answered without stopping.

Zack sipped his drink through a straw before following.

She danced closer than comfortable at first. then closer and closer until closer was verJ comfortable before he spoke.

"You dance nicely Ma'am." Ilc seemed to fight a lump in his throat and the dry parchment that had become his tongue.

"Thank you. You don't do so bad I} yourself.'' she answered speaking slov. and seductive from the side of her face that men were empowered by.

Zack seemed flustered. I Ie struggled. then spat out. "You sure are pretty Ma'am" with a fake fexas drawl. lie felt like the fool men were born to be.

"Oh Sweety, you must be from Wyoming."

"Why ... ycs. I am Ma'am. How did you know? Are you from Wyoming too?"

"Nope, born and raised in California."

"Shows 111 your figure, Ma'am."

"Ah Swcety. I knew it was Wyoming."

"How can you tell?"

"Some men are just smooth talkers, slinging little compliments like lavish gifts, and drive women batty with attention. I know you well." She giggled and tossed back her hair as they rounded a comer.

"Well, I didn't know I'd caught a live one."

"Don't you know it. Sweety Punkin.

You're my Punkin Pie. so sweet." She kissed him on the cheek. giggling. and let her hand brush off him as she moved away.

She danced with another, a large and handsome big city cowboy with a pretty hat and fancy boots. l ie was fresh pressed and clean shaven and they danced very close round and round. Lack sipped his drink. studying them.

She returned smiling.

6

I•

"Mm-mm... Hello my little Punkin Pie." "Hello Sweetheart. you're sure looking scrumptious, how about a beer?"

"You are a redneck. Punkin."

"You like rednecks do youT "I like men. Punkin, big and talL short and fat skinny and wide and everything in between. Mm-mm. how I do love men."

"And that other fella?" Lack asked.

"Oh him? We kinda had a thing once."

"A thing?"

"He's an old man who doesn't know what he wants."

"So a thing is bad."

"No, it was great, Punkin. but he was bad. oh real bad." ''I'm sorry."

"But you're not bad, Punkin, are you?

You couldn't be bad and be so sweet."

"I don't know about that Ma'am--" "You do know how to talk, Punkin ... say, you're wearing Stetson. I love the smell of Stetson. Punkin--mm-mm good."

"Thank you ma'am, you smell pretty rosy yourself."

"Do you know what they call Stetson, Punkin? Do you?"

"Dad called it skunk piss."

She laughed, "They call it panty remover, Punkin. Best in the business."

"Damn Ma'am. You're a tittJe forward, aren't you?"

"Ah Punkin. sorry I embarrassed you.

You're so cute when you blush."

"Well Ma'am. You interested in another one of U1ose things?"

"Oh Punkin, we really can't."

"It could be a great thing."

She trembled. "Punkin pie ... you don't want a thing ...you're too sweet for things ... too sweet for me. You're just a dream. Punkin. Don't leave U1e dream for a thing. Punkin... don't leave it for anything."

She left. Maybe she cried. Zack bought another drink and made a mental note not to be quite so sweet again. He had played it good. but too much didn't work. He watched the band as the drummer dropped a stick. They were ruining 'Passionate Kisses' and he wondered what Wyoming was really like.

7

I Remembered Until I Could See I shall long remember your style. your poise. your grace.

Sun, moon and stars meant nothing to me against your face.

Still. my heart savagely skips a beat, knowing you are dead.

Time has not removed you from me. but it gouged out hatred's ugly head.

Barbara Bolton

8

I•

Entertainment My eyes follow the small black bug, that slowly, whimsically putters across the carpet...

While the instructor rambles on, blithely unaware of the bizarre humor of the scene.

M) class compatriots. some of whom sleep. some of whom stare blankly into space, sit unaware...

While my morning entertainment, that tiny black bug. glides smoothly along. on its way to wherever.

Dan Brinson

9

STILLNESS

by Melani Alene Lowman ... Stillness in the midnoon hour Suns been dulled by clouds and showers Bring about the grovvth of Oowcrs With radiant love He drips 1Tis power. ..

Stillness in the desk I sit My ears are open but 1 don't hear a bit Only see the motion of moving lips My mind not in class yet my thoughts are lit Stillness during the test I stare White pages stare back and give me a glare My mind is blank: my page remains bare I'm trapped in this desk as a bunny in a snare Stillness during the day surrounds me 1 look out the window~ sec motion around me The flight of the birds simpl) astound Though the teachers lecture simp!) dumbfounds me Stillness while I wait for results lie hands the test back: the grade is my fault Giving difficult tests must be a professor's cult "Please curve the grade~ f have no mind of Gestalt" Stillness as he hands our midterm back The grade is the result of the motivation 1 lack My mind has no interest for these know facts Next time make it more interesting so I can plan my attack ... stillness in my bed I Jay My mind swirling with thoughts of lhc day As I go to sleep [ pray To wake with no more tests nor bills to pay ...

10

I•

Priceless: Nature Free by ~1elani Alene Lowman How much would you pay For the beauty of outdoors If the changing color of seasons Were no longer free no more Would you give a dime to sec the sea A sand dollar to feel it's breeze fwo dollars to strong oak trees A quarter for it's leaves But if a penny you gave the !lower A nickel you'd owe the bee If two bits you gave the deer How much would you give the t1ea How much would we owe If we paid for what outdoors hold Forever indebted we may be To never feel hot nor cold

lI

]n My World I walk into the room breathy and honey-eyed.

Anew J ease from reality, Into my realm of love and life.

Sheltered from chaos and constraints, Calmed am I in my world.

Sweet rain soothes my misled and misguided heart.

Loved am I in my world.

Easily I find compassion An eager ear patient and kind.

Allowing silence to wrap us in its steady warmth.

At ease am I in my world.

Love grips its greedy claws around me in their world.

Taunting me with the unattainable.

Wringing my weathered heart of hope.

Age doesn't matter in my world.

Loneliness visits often in their world.

Unexpected it clenches me.

Strangling my desperate plea.

Buried are my dreams and loves.

Frantic, I turn to others, They fade away, ignorant of my desperation.

Safe am I in my world.

Longingly I concentrate on better times.

Times of peace and contentment.

Times which are few and far between.

Often are they in my world.

Refreshed I emerge from the room Hopeful for love.

Eager to reengage in life's long battle Confident of victory.

Glad am I for my world. jazz.

12

KNOCK IN DECEMBER Well Hello Mr. Satan, Please. come on in.

Ha\e a scat.

Take your coat off.

Coffee?

Oh, you¡ re here on busmess.

Wish 1 could help you oul, But Jesus took m) soul.

The bank too ever) thing else.

But surely You'll have some coffee.

Rest your feet, And sit a spell?

Please Mr. Satan, Pleasant company is so hard lo find On a cold December night.

K.C. Hanson

13

LOT

by Dianne l Iardy Ile left her there. a pillar of salt to the mountains he did nee with two virginal daughters scrambling behind just as God said it should be.

A cave in the mountains they did lind a place where they could stay Lot left the girls to tidy it up while be went out to pray.

"Poor Daddy." the first virgin said to the other, ''This really is quite a plight.

Our mother's a statue of salt back there So with whom will Dad spend the night?

"I think it's my call to do the Lord's work, If s my right, r m older than you.

When he drinks this wine he'll lay with me You can have him when I get through."

An orgy raged on the mountain that night Each gal played her part to the letter.

In drunken splendor Lot climaxed it all Crying "Wife, you ' re getting better and better."

And the Lord looked down and said to Lot "Look, these daughters you've defiled.

You're righteous and you're clever. too Through both will come a child."

This story is one not told in Church In the Bible you 'II need to look Revelation! Scripture! from the hand of God It's the world's first dirt) book.

14

,.

Once we thrived together as one Now raw is the hat that burns for you within me Yet the one I long for is you.

l. a. robinson

15

Coffeehouse Perk Damn you beatnik.s with your gorgeous black light!

Tonight you serenade me with your hollow, heartfelt prose. r II have a large coconut cappuccino please.

She sits next to me on the table. steaming like an ember-red fire about her life. I ignore her in her little espresso cup world.

Latted in a sublimt! vision. My cappuccino lover.

Her love scorched my tongue. Blisters malaccd Forward. Bitterness is the residue of coffee grounds lift over. The} fill the deep crevasses of my teeth like a diseased cavity. She dehydrates me. Diuretic! Taking, stripping me of all resources; leaving me tense and shaking. My cappuccino gigolo.

I love her with her coconut spunk flavored generously with whipped cream and cinnamon curled here. llcr strength, as if it were black magic. stimulates me in the insomniac night and in the early morning rituals. My cappuccino woman.

So you beatniks stand up there. in the spotlight. and read to me your paused cries of your turmoil. rll sit right here in calm miser} and sip my lover goodbye.

Brant J. Wardner

16

'.

it is raining and dark and sad no light no smiles leave me be to my sorrow it is my own and not your's so get out it's not your pain to have you hurt me bow can you feel it you're selfish and weak you lie yet you don' l speak you run yet you don't move you care yet I don't feel il go on and on and l won¡ t hear you anymore

Karen A. llclm

17

Affirmation l sit with my head between my knees waiting for the dizziness to pass but I've been sitting here for months now.

r wait, for the time to come for me to let go but my hands remain in tills vise-like grip.

I walk, away telling myself I've moved on but my head turns with longing.

I laugh. with the hope the laughter sounds real but I still don¡ t convince myself.

I cling. to the threads of thought that hold you to me but the guilt has become habit and l've stopped hearing its echo.

So I move, on to the next chapter knowing next time I ' II have the strength to cJose the book at the end of the tale.

Chandra Mengel

18

,.

Love Sucks, I bit the wrong key and erased the original and I need about 7 snorts of whiskey

I.a. robinson

19

Inolvidable/Yvonn Quijano

20

Unreal I sec laughter fall from your face, Dropping would be our case.

As easy as sipping down rusted tea, I know what your eye fears to see.

Your body is alive but killing dead~ The voice is hearing the calling of the lead.

A magnetic lamb trips through the flick.

Screw your courage to the stick.

This drug is the feeling of pretty peace~ A maze of what is reality or fantasy.

A line is started, you're trapped in a box~ The unsexed will escape and die as a fox.

You¡ rc trapped then flee once again, Once you are out, you want back in.

Ryanne

21

NO!

by K.C. Ilanson MORNING arrived an hour and a half too early, and my French toast was cold. I damn near froze on my way to English. and I'm out of Copenhagen so I can't get my morning fix. And now, to top things off, I'm given a thesis statement that 1 cannot agree with to write my midterm on during the next hour.

The sentence has been carved on the board like a concrete corollary to the Ten Commandments with THESIS underlined about it like the burning bush. Moses has come down from the mountain in a storm of smoke and fire and reads!: students who work at the same time they are going to school face special difficulties in their lives. Meanwhile little old me the college student sits behind the screen of this electrical contraption bombarding me with unknown radiation wishing I could get my hands on a golden calf.

So students have some problems. WAAA, big deal, so docs Billy Bob Bo Chuck and the rest of the semi-free world. I figure if they arc in school they must be doing all right because I know a pile of people who can't make it to school but still are managing to support themselves. It's all like my good buddy the great philosopher Derrick T. Mr. Snowman always says.

"Suck it up, Buttercup." That, my friend, will get you far further in this life than whining about having a job.

Wait just a minute here. This is unreal.

Someone is out crying that college students that have to work have got it rough. How about college students that just can¡ t seem to find a job? Nov. I see that as a special difficulty. At least your college student that-oh-my-gosh has to \vork has money with v.hich to go to school. Am I Right!

No @%#*&% I am!

I don "t know how to beat it through your thick non-absorbent skulls that your measly insignificant problems are but entertainment for those people who actually have it rough. And yet, you will never hear them screaming that they have been fouled in life to a public audience. They arc too proud for that and you should be too.

So, you sit back and think about that for a while. l 'm going to go scrape up what change I can find left in the soda machines and try to buy a can of Copenhagen to make this day bearable.

22

Does Anyone Ever Know How I Feel?

Does anyone ever know how I feel?

Tf s almost as if 1 were invisible to those that I care for most, Or is it invincible?

Are we so two-sided that we have lost our true identities?

1 like to think that I never found myself, instead I'm just the whisper of the wind; the gentle breeze of a hurricane that's boiling inside or the calm of the storm just about to Hit! Either way It just hurts---everything hurts. !.

The lack of Love is something so familiar that when faced with the cupid I get scared.

Yes ... No ... Maybe .. .I have not a clue to anything.

The key to my future may never be found. ls it in the labyrinth of the past, present, and future ... !

Where does it begin? When does it start?

Helpless Alone Twenty-one and miserable...

What went wrong?

Is it my fault?

Usually things are always my fault-directly or otherwise.

Beautiful;ugly;short;tall;strong;weak - I am all these things on the outside one at a time. I am all of these things on the inside, all at the same time.

Inside is not the calm; nor is it the reckless; is it of turmoil and triumph? No!!! I am the gut wrenching and twisted and above all torn between the steel gray and the emptiness.

If l choose the emptiness, I may escape the pain, or I may not and instead, fester in the very core of myself...

But what of the steel gray? An object of dimension and plane I am not part of at the moment---should I be?

Jill Lindsay

23

WHAT MY FYFS TELL ME i do not know for fact if god or devil do exist. buti do knov:. for it's plain to sec. that someone is thinking on a grander scale than me.

K.C. Hanson

24

CRANIAL PROJECTIO'KS

I low bleak the winter harvest, when they nestled in their beds, underneath protective roofs. and moons of crimson red. rhe night grows ever long, The sleep grows ever deep~ And frost forms on the grass, As shadows start to creep, Engulfing every surface Till all is consumed in dark.

The moon rises full, And into dreams embark.

Sleep my little children For tomorrow's sun will shine but come tomorrow night Your little souls are mine.

Jennifer 1. Bane]

25

Nigerian Fantasy

by Barbara Bolton father must have been to leave him at home. Jahava never listened very long to Sahana' s dreams about becoming a soldier.

He just didn't understand.

Sahana went back into the hut to get his spear. He did not ask his mother as he grabbed a mound of bread. He did not tell her he was going to the river. Neither did she ask.

The thunder of voices and footsteps began to echo in Sabana's ears. He know the women and smaller children would go out to greet the men. Sahana hesitated, his pride holding him back. He swallowed hard and stepped outside.

Jahava motioned him to come. Sahana did not want to walk past everyone, but he knew he had to obey. He hoped everyone did not see his pain. He wondered if his father was going to disgrace him.

As he approached, Jahava smiled and extended his arm to his son and began his speech.

"Today, it was agreed that ten of our young men will leave our village next year.

Life has become very difficult for our people. Each season there is less water to keep the earth still for our crops. There is less and less food to be shared. There is a way to help feed our village. The soldiers told me of special villages being set up to draw the black water from the earth. This black water has power to buy the food we can no longer grow.

"Our boys will learn to live and work in these villages. They will be given money.

To help our people in this way will show great honor and respect.

"I wish to tell you," Jahava placed his hand on Sahana's shoulders, "my son, Sahana, will not be one of these honored

RAYS of morning sun persistently danced across Sahana's face. As he opened his eyes to see the dust particles. he wondered how the earth pieces were given to the stm.

He wished the earth did not travel with the wind. [t would be better for the sun to send water to hold the ground in its place and give green life to the trees in his village.

Sahana listened to the footsteps just outside his mud hut. He recognized his aunts' voices. They had already returned with water from the river.

Sahana stepped outside into the open area surrounding his father's huts. He could not see past the grass woven fences, but the silence told him the men had left already.

He turned to his mother kneeling at her oven and spoke in English.

"Why did you let me sleep on this important day?" Sahana demanded.

Balatia looked at her son. She knew he was caught between his boyhood and his desire to be a man. She did not correct him but chose to answer him in Hausa, "Yesterday the sun confused your thoughts.

Your father said you needed rest."

Sahana kicked and cursed the parched ground. His heart pounded as his throat tightened into a stone. He had missed his chance to escape the mass of round huts and fences that bordered his existence.

He wanted to meet the soldiers that made rules even his father obeyed. The soldiers commanded such power.

Sahana tried to imagine their knowledge.

How many times he had wondered what it was like to move around the country, never sleeping in the same place and never viewing the same village huts.

His chance was lost. How happy his 26

sons."

Sahana ¡ s heart sank deep inside. He wanted the '"ind to lift him up and carry him awa} I IO\\ could his father make everyone look down at him? Was this the way his father chose to correct him for falling asleep in the sun yesterday? He wished he had never shared his dreams with his father. Sahana lowered his head and stared at the ground in shame.

Jahava li fled his o;;on ¡ s chin as he continued, "My son 1s not going to the oil villages because he is going to serve his people in another way. Next year, Sahana is going to join the soldiers. He will learn many things about all Nigerians, not just the Hausa. fhe soldiers have a new power that even the English respect. The soldiers try to protect the people and the land. I do not always agree with the methods they use. It was not easy to decide." fhe lines on his face did not change as Jahava spoke from a solemn heart. "The life of a soldier is not what I wish for my son. but it is what is in his heart. I have listened to him many times when he did not think J heard. We cannot live exactly as our fathers did. Change is forced upon us. We arc a proud people and will not stop trying to work our land, but we will also give our children a chance to try new things."

Sahana looked up at Jahava's strength and power. lie wondered when he had stopped seeing the qualities he once loved.

I le had accused his father of not hearing when, in fact, it was he v.ho had stopped seeing. A rush of excitement swept over Sahana. Jaha\a heard his dreams and now he was gi\ing them to him.

27

Untitlcd/Yumci Wu

e

'l

s

1/:

"

0

{,

Q ;£-

e 'Z

-i

5

0 •

't.

71

e

28

Untitled/Stephen Bradley

29

One Rainy Day b: Mistcn Lee Sch\\arz Distant thoughts and lonely memories thoughts alone one rainy day Fril!nds you¡ ve met and friends you 'II meet saying goodbye that rainy day Hugs and kisses long farewells tears being shed come a rainy day Silt:nce and ending no one around everyone left one rainy day

30

Valentine's Da}

by Charles Bauer cart. 1t said: SOLD OUT UNTIL TOMORROW. He smiled bitterly because he knew by tomorrow his twenty dollars would be gone with the alcohol he would consume tonight. lie calmed down by telling himself that Julie probably wouldn't like them anyway.

I le looked past the vendor and saw the perfect bar for the night. It had an old look to it and looked like it would be filled with old men and perhaps a few of the youngsters that Liked to do their drinking alone and in the silence where they could be at one with their thoughts. Yes, it was a good bar and didn't look too expensive.

He was going to be very drunk by the end of the night. Maybe the) would have dollar shots going and he would tip the tender three and drink seventeen. Maybe.

It was the next day and his head felt as if it had been in a vice the whole night before. lie swallowed three aspirin dry and gagged on the bitter taste. He had been fortunate at the bar. they had dollar shots and he had ordered them to be put in front of him one by one. When they had all been poured he had drank them down in the exact order that they had been laid. By the time he had been half done. his head had already been swimming and the stool had become nothing more than a pole with a seat. They had laken his keys, and he had walked home.

Now he was sitting at his kitchen counter wondering what he was going to do for a gift for Julie. He rummaged through the drawer and come upon an envelope. Next month's rent. Ile thought maybe he could usc this and pay the rent with his check next week. Yes, he just wouldn't tell her.

It would ruin the surprise. He opened it up

THE man sat on the park bench and v.:atched the people 5troll b) in a nice and orderly fashion None of them were in a hurry. most of them looked quite happ) with the day¡s events. and all of them looked like well-rounded individuals. It was February 12. 1996. and they all had plent) of time to find that perfect gift for their special someone.

He still had two days to watch people and he wanted to make the most of it. It was ama11ng hov. clear it all seemed once a person had it all in perspective. Yes, many people \.\ould see the truth b) the time midnight came on February fourteenth and then he would be able to die with something accomplished in his life.

He closed hts eyes and pictured his lovely Julie. llcr dark blonde hair that he would twist in h1s fingers and smell at night while he held her in his arms. the curve of her waist when they danced and the small patter of her feet when she walked from the couch to where he sat most evenings watching TV. Yes, she was beautiful and he loved her and wanted to bu) her something nice but couldn't think of anything. He had thought about jewelry. but then it occurred to him that she was not a materialistic woman. Then he had considered chocolates and had remembered her allergies. I Ie was holding his \Vallet in his hands and looked down at the few bills that were in there. Twenty bucks and payda} wasn ¡ t for another week.

He sighed and looked across the street. fhere was a vendor there selling what appeared to be tiny glass globes with figures inside of them. They looked very pretty, and he stood up to buy one. And then he saw the sign on the front of the 31

and looked inside. Three hundred dollars.

It would be enough for roses and those beautiful glass balls be had seen the day before. He smiled and walked to the bathroom to take a shower. He was happy.

He spent the day sitting in the same bench and watching people. He was fascinated by all the brilliant colors that the people wore as it glared so violently against the whiteness of the snow. They were beautiful. Yes. that was the word for what they were. Beautiful. They were angels and he was but a dirty old man sitting and watching them. But tomorrow he would be an angel too. Yes. he would be his own special type of angel. And he would bring love to the world. Yes. love greater than any love ever known. He would Jove.

He bought the glass globe and went to the bar and got drunk after buying two dozen roses. Again, he was made to walk home, but he was happy. Tomorrow was Valentine's Day. Valentine' s Day. He saw her walking.

Her legs were not too long, but they were just right. She was a goddess in her own way. beautiful to look at , beautiful to touch, beautiful to know. He pulled a single rose out of the box and walked over to her. From here he could see her lovely dark blonde hair just barely peaking out from beneath the red stocking cap she wore and he wanted to touch that hair. She saw him coming and then she smiled when she saw the rose. No, he had not forgotten the day, after all, she was his love. He smiled and held the rose out to her.

The woman switched her shopping bag from one hand to the other to accept the rose. He wondered what was inside the bag. Perhaps a tie or maybe some new cologne. Yes they would kiss and perhaps later on they would make love and bring

Valentine's Day to a perfect end.

She reached out for the rose and beamed at his old and kindly face as her cheeks grew rosy with her blush. Then the blush turned to a bright, running, dark velvet blood as the hand that held the box of roses dropped the box and appeared with the screwdriver. She opened her mouth to scream, but he drove the screwdriver into her lips, gums, and throat, over and over again. She dropped to the ground and lay quivering, her hand grasping for the roses that lay on the ground as if they could saved her life.

He watched her as she began to die and then bent over and kissed her cut, bleeding, tortured lips and she kissed him back with her last remaining breath. At that moment he knew that she loved him and that they were united in her death. He smiled and walked off, whistling a slow, low tune.

He walked into his home and took off his coat and walked into the bedroom. He saw the shape lying in the bed and smiled.

Julie must have beaten him home and went to bed early. He removed his clothes and crawled into bed with her and put his arms around her. She had lost a lot of weight lately and he wondered if she was ill because she had been so cold the last few years. He closed his eyes and started drifting off to sleep, the bent, dried, silver, ancient hairs of the corpse moving with his heavy breath.

32

Misha/Jasmine Huether

Sasha/Yvonn Quijano

34

Discovering Pearls Cool bumpy hard nodules polished smooth glide past my fingertips. leaYing them numb from thl! sensation.

Like thl! rustling of glass leaves. the beads clamor.

Hundreds of mirrored faces appear on perfectly shaped miniature spheres.

Inhalations produce hints of talcum and vanilla.

Elegant florescent dual cream colors eclipse each pearl.

Individually free. yet collectively harmonious.

Cold compressed symmetrical shapes evenly distributed on the strand. frozen tasteless tell warmed to plastic by the tongue.

Barbara Bolton

35

Hard Day At Work/Yvonn Quijano

36

Creation I he barren sedimentary Earth Yearnt.!d tor the Blessing A forgotten and incomplete creation.

Void of vacanc}. awaiting the Spell.

And the) came Awakened from oblivion, the Elements united And formed a shell out of nothingness.

Along with clumps of sacred soil.

Celestial droplets fell from the cosmic tapestry, Spilling over the landscape Like a lluid ripple or silken azure.

And the knowing tree became.

And the flowing fields became Turboulone meadows of Elysian.

The most cherished gift, Immortal song.

Poured into each fissure of nature, Gushing to the lips of the Flowering; A fallen rden restored.

From the lungs of the Goddess A zephyr blew Across the desolate hi ll, the motionless stream, Entering the shell \\.ith the force of the Essence, Bringing life to all that was promised.

The flame of eternity ignited, Engulfing the shell in its glowing embers Granting it the desire to survive, The will to exist.

Thus was the CreationNo almighty god as creator; No universal explosion. galactic impact.

Simply the joining of the Elements fo which we \\ill all return Upon forcverend .

Jennifer. J. Hanel

37

Duplication!Yumei Wu

38

I•

Imagination starts with "LM" by \ltelani Alene LO\vman 1 Am A Mermaid In Sea Depths I S\\im I Can Talk To The Whales And Dolphins Within I Am A Deer In The Fields 1'm Bounding I Have Strength And Sure-l·ooting My Speed Is Astounding 1 Am A Horse Palomino My Name Wild Is My Nature Free Is My Mane I Am A Lion

ln The Jungle Roar Beastly Power And Might Make My Ego Soar I Am A Seashell Hold Me Close To Your Ear r II Whisper You Secrets As If The Ocean Is Near 1 Am A Butterfly Given New Life Angel Dust On My Wings To Direct My Flights

39

My Life

by Misten Lee Schwarz I came into this world too soon for my birth mother. She made a big decision to give me up to a different family.

On the fifth of December 1980 was my first view of my new parent. The adoption director carried me into Ulis huge room with a blanket covering me. I heard people talking. nervous like, in the room.

Quickly, the blanket was removed from over my face. The room was very stilL My God, did I have a rash on my face?

Did r have a bad hair day? What was wrong with me? Everyone was quietly staring at me. No one said a word or made a move.

Finally, this chubby lady with a trench coat on, got up and walked over and said, "Hi." Then this dude with a western shirt and cowboy hal moved in and said, "WelL hello there."

They just stood there smiling and their eyes moved back and forth across me. fhe chubby lady held her arms out and took me into them. She squeezed me so hard my eyes nearly popped. Then, the western dude took me away from her and raised me high into the air. They sat down then and still didn't take their eyes off me but started undressing me. They counted my toes like maybe T lift them somewhere else.

They checked my head, my ears, my eyes, and even backside. They were smiling aU the time, so I guess I appeared okay.

Then the western dude said, "Little girl, what happened to your hair, did you stick your finger in a light socket?" These were my new parents torever and ever, and I was having a bad hair day, wouldn't you know it.

Our home was in the country near a small rural town. They carried me into this huge house where I met two new strange people.

These two strangers, I later found out, were my new brothers. 1 thought to myself, I sure hope they don't leave me home with these guys, there might be child abuse.

Through the years these two boys have taught me a lot of interesting facts. They taught me how to play pool and how to go around and around in the clothes dryer.

They taught me at a very early age how to clean out the dishwasher and to take the blame for breaking something that they really broke. They taught me how to love them too.

Fifteen years later, I'm still here; they haven't given me back yet. There were a few times 1 thought they might. My Mom told me I might have become an abused child when I sucked her satin sheets into our central vac system.

The western dude hasn't changed much except he has developed furniture disease, that's where your chest drops into your drawers. The tummy pushes the western pants waistband out a little further each year. By the way, he likes my hair now after the down hair disappeared at threeyears-old. My brothers are malTied and away from home now, but they come back to pester me often. And my Mom, the chubby lady, we are best friends and worst enemies sometimes.

These people think they picked me but to tell you the truth, l really picked them. I could have made their lives a terrible place to be if I really wanted to but I decided a long time ago this is the place I was going to stay.

I had an hours drive to my new home.

40

untitled/Nila Rorvik

41

Through the Eyes of the Beholder I gaze into m)' mirror, Figure plump and sweet. l spm softly like a ballerina To the music in m) head.

Arms gracefull) outward, Stomach in, Spmc straight, I jump.

Then spin Pirouetting into fantasy.

A tiny smile Peeks through my mask.

1 love my body.

I love its movements Turning this way and that Reshaping the memory of what is mine.

Twirling unwillingly into the world, I encounter many mirrors

All \.-\-ith human mass Reflecting what they think I am, Ignorant impressions forming judgement.

My feet fall flat~ My eyes divert; Arms down, Body exhausted, I trudge into reality.

Kristine Dassinger

42

Neanderthal Hairy balls hang below Plaid trousers In the sunshine.

Ross I Ianson

The Farewell Never Said

by La. robinson I remember so clearly our first night together.

When l close my eyes, I can still feel the gash on my leg from the glass you broke m a rage. rhe smell of bile still catches in my sinuses when I recall peeling the sodden clothes from your still body as you lay passed out on the couch.

Even the taste of vomit and stale beer are fresh in my memory from the first kiss we share as you rose from your intoxicated slwnbcr.

Fast forwarding through the past my thoughts come to rest on our last night together. the night you never came home.

43

Untitled/Nila Rorvik

44

l•

Epilogue

by K.C. llanson

Editing is a terrible business; to sit in judgement of Art is Hell. It is largely a matter of opinion, opinion" taken as gospel and largely based on opinions. that don't get any better on an editor's feeble throne. through we wish the) did.

But man) wonderful things are not inside this cover. They were outvoted--argued for by at least one of us--m the end un-noticed. They became those things out from the side to create a whole. a unified thing. They become the most important pieces.

On publication. congratulations will go to those published. They deserve it. But do not rorget my victuns. the victims of editmg. with whom goes my soul. The end product. this magatine, belongs more to them that to anyone.

Thanks.

untitled untitled. untitled. unti tied the darkness v. ithin titanium id seven. faded hues onl} a thing i remembered until i could see entertainment. stillness priceless: nature free in my world knock in December lot. untitled coffeehouse perk. untitled amrmation, untitled inolvidable. unreal no! docs anyone know how i feel? what my eyes tell me cranial projections Nigerian fantasy untitled. untitled. untitled on a rainy day valentine¡ s da) Misha, Sasha discovering pearls hard day at wor"crcation. duplication imagination starts with "i,m" my life, untitled through the eyes or the beholder neanderthal farewell never said