The Muse: June, 2021

2020

The Muse

It may not be standard procedure for the Muse Board to include a letter to our readers, but seeing as this edition of The Muse has been anything but standard procedure, it felt only natural to express our gratitude for the Roeper community’s patience. By looking at the cover, you will have noticed that this edition is actually a year late. While the COVID-19 pandemic may have impeded the roll-out of the 2020 Muse Muse,, by no means did it lessen the quality of the works inside. We wanted nothing more than to give the pieces that had been submitted last year a chance to be spotlighted, even if some of their creators had already graduated. We have worked very hard all year to finish the 2020 Muse Muse.. We would also like to thank Olivia Gandee and Ellie Barron for bravely leading the Muse Board when we were all worried we wouldn’t get The Muse out. And finally, a thank you to Patrick Ratliff for jumping in as our faculty advisor at the beginning of the year.

— The Muse Board

The Muse 2020

The Muse Board

Layout Editors

Ellie Barron

Ellie Barron

Alexa Dinneweth

Alexa Dinneweth

Gina Galligan

Gina Galligan

Olivia Gandee

Olivia Gandee

Shaima Hossain

Peyton Keffer

Katie Lane

Katie Lane

Rose Li

Annabel Wilson

Jocelyn Ni Lilly Richards Liliana Schechter

Faculty Advisors Kelly Piontek Patrick Ratliff

Heads of

the

Muse Board

Ellie Barron Olivia Gandee

Event Planners Ellie Barron Gina Galligan Olivia Gandee

Front Cover Terryn Husband

Back Cover Ben Wedepohl

Juniper Sunset He ran his fingers over the flesh of life Today he is to be bound in a widow’s web, he is to be man in man and wife The soft claw clasped cluelessly at his spine Checkered patterns plastered their figure in his retina, held in his mind Dried fruits of labor brought into fruition She slinks soundless, nothing to shroud her sleek frame She runs her fingers through her body of aspartame Her heart was like his eyes, what it saw it coveted The skin of the peach gone, what once was velveted What it saw it wanted, and the deed was done through attrition A wrong turn is the one he took Events of his life reading like a book The clutch on his spine coming to a close Imperfection now clear as blood spews out his nose The knife of his wife slid through his fingers The sting of regrettable decisions is the only feeling that lingers The placid demeanor of the snake slips away None are left unsettled today Devastation or incompletion is all they are left to know The thick syrup drips alone

Juniper Sunrise The sun rises, open to a new day Looks down at the world, his heart aches Make no mistake, he’s feeling heartbreak Closes his eyes, hopes the feeling dissipates The feeling begins to implode as the boy meditates Gears and cogs whir, his heart resuscitates Checks his breathing, it’s robotic and even Remembers the reason for his grieving and hopes that he’s dreaming Pinches his cheek, feels reality, and now he’s seething Cuts out his heart in blatant disregard for reason or rhyme He feels relief as the feeling starts receding The boy then glares at his former weakness Crushes it while drowning in bleakness Tears stream down his eyes in single file He’s in denial He falls to his knees, feeling the hole in his chest Opens his eyes wide, knowing he’s got nothing left And then the sun sets Kessonga Allen and Peter Cole

Ellie Barron

Sneakerhead Shoes are surely my favorite Splendid scents of silky suede, Shiny leather, canvas, vinyl.

Sketchers can’t take the smoke, Like undergrads sweatin’ a final The price of some shoes could give you a stroke, Boxes pilin’ up Yeah I’ll be flexin’ like I’m the pope.

Caroline Lambert

Light

in

April

The Light In April

Jocelyn Ni

Ben Wedepohl

Quiet Unquiet

The man walked silently, solemnly through the woods just before the break of dawn.

His footsteps were muffled by the thick layer of snow beneath his feet, and only the sound of his thick winter coat brushing against the stray branches could be heard. The dull white of his jacket made him hard to spot in the quiet woods, but that made the scarlet stains stand out even more. This was a man who had seen more than a man should ever have to see, and endured more than a man should ever have to endure. This was plainly visible in his eyes, dark brown and brimming with a regretful sorrow; they told a thousand stories.

He held his pistol at his side, the glimmering weapon hanging heavy in his hand. The blue light of the not-yet-risen sun illuminated his path through the woods. Gentle snowflakes drifted off the boughs of the trees in the light wind. The man stopped in his tracks for a brief moment and looked at the gun in his hands. His shoulders shook; he raised his foot to take another step forward, but then he placed it back where it had been moments before. He turned around and looked at the woods surrounding him, but they could not give him any answers.

With a shaking hand, he wiped a tear from his eye and then slowly continued his march forward.

He stopped in front of a shed, concealed haphazardly between two trees. Everything about the shed was dated. From the chipping and faded dark green paint to the disintegrating and mossy shingles, the shed had been there long enough that it had simply become a part of the landscape itself. Tree limbs poked their way through the broken windows, and all manner of lichen had attached itself to the aging wooden walls. It all seemed to simply fade into the landscape, all except the glimmering silver padlock affixed to the doors. Even in the early morning light, the padlock glimmered with an eerie newness. The man held his hand out to knock, but hesitated for a moment. He retracted his hand, and then with a renewed confidence he knocked three times on the door. Small chips of paint shook loose and fell to the snow.

Something within the shed stirred. The door shook, the padlock jingling. The man sighed, his head falling from its previously confident position. He reached into his coat pocket, dug around in it for a bit, and then procured a small key. He grabbed the padlock daintily in his hand, and tentatively unlocked it. The door slowly creaked open. Chains clanked reluctantly together, releasing a gentle lullaby as they fell softly into the snow. The forest drew in its breath, the wind stopped blowing, and even the snow seemed to stop as it fell.

A pillar of fog made its way out of the man’s mouth as he let out a remorseful sigh. It curled its way gently upward, caressing the man’s rough face. The man sat down in the snow, placing the pistol tenderly but securely on his lap. He looked up into the darkness of the shed around him. He took a deep breath inwards, and then, tentatively, he began to unleash the story that had waited so long to escape his lips into the anxious forest around him.

Cameron Gorelick

Lee Must

Sam Weiss

I’m Watching You The child gazed at the flame they’d extinguish I stood nearby, what a soul for me to relinquish He took a sharp intake of air I stayed silent, waiting for the lives they wouldn’t spare The blaze flickered and wavered Oh, this moment of truth, which I’ll savor As the flame was snuffed, the children wandered out What was I worrying about? I should’ve never had my doubts I observed with bated breath What will become if you pass my test?

I’m around the corner, you can’t see me Yet regarding your fate, I’m the epitome This small child, true so true I’m sad to say, I’m coming for you The candle’s flame will soon run out How would that smile look replaced with a pout?

My name is Death, and I come in peace My friends, however, now that’s who you’ll meet Peyton Keffer

The Roses

Jocelyn Ni

This artwork was created using soil and vegetation.

Alexa Dinneweth

The Enigma

of

Human Life

Rise and fall Sink and set All relative to your effect on the world Simple yet radiant Guidance through light and kindness Feeling yet impactful Quaint yet enigmatic I crave your truth Your hidden questions The heart yearns for answers It can never comprehend Some call you a beautiful lie, others a false truth In order to ease our human suffering Our endless cycle of joy trailing to your end We simply regard you as The rising And the end as either Setting Or f a l l i n

g Peyton Keffer

Lee Must

Michael Talbott

Falling Through Falling leaves Blowing through the wind, Like a kite on a windy day, The great wind that howls like a wolf, And with the force of a great big wave, Pushing through anything In its way Anonymous

My Hell Another stupid solemn start In a place that leaves me in a daze As boredom strikes down my superior spirit And my mind meddles in millions of wonders As well as events that left me distraught Making me question where I went wrong Like a man searching for his destination on a ripped map My mind and heart confused on which part to take Alas, it is a break that I receive Where I shall devour delicious delicacies As the day continues Mountains and mountains of meaningless work That I believe will extend my stay in hell Spending my expensive leisure time Making every problem’s answer right At last, at last The clock has reached the end And my hell has stopped for the moment But now fun shall commence Mannie Stephens

Alexa Dinneweth

Anonymous

Lightning The light—it flashes violently I want to see my world; it changes so much The warmth of the brightness lulls me to sleep But no sleep will come easily I need the light like a bird needs a worm Under my blanket, my troubles disappear But here comes mom—with a gentle touch She caresses my cheek and lethargy swells Ping ping ping goes the light; my morning bells Clean and dry I want to be prepared The day ahead is ominous, just as the sphere Luscious loony lies exude to my eyes Woebegone is what I feel That treacherous light; a wound that can’t heal Then when the damage is known The clock resets; the light—it flashes violently Signe Smith

Sam Weiss

Cameron Gorelick

Alexa Dinneweth

Anonymous

Tree Graceful, looking up up up At the tall, never-ending sky Branches, reaching out out out At the hope, whisking away through the breeze The sweet scent of pollen, drifting through the pine-scented air Roots digging down down down Steadying the mighty beast Leaves flitting like hummingbirds Swish swish swish Gazing at the sky Lost in a myriad of clouds The sun burning bright Blinded by the dazzling light Peyton Keffer

I am just a man, One gun, one bullet But with that shot, armies were shattered.

I am just a man, One gun, one bullet But a war was started that would last a decade, Killing millions With that bullet, two sides, Before, just rivals, were cleft in two, Decimated and left to die On that dusty field And they wondered as they lay, Who had fired that deciding shot that echoed through the noonday light But none suspected me The puppet master The one behind it all They will see my greatness Once I raise from the ashes Like a phoenix burning bright Many years from now When our power is above all.

I am just a man One gun, one bullet But imagine if I was two Two guns, two bullets, and the havoc we would wreak Razing monarchies and crushing democracies, All will fall And we will stand Tall —Unknown, 1775 Massachusetts Anonymous

H.azardous E.nvironment E.xoskeleton Sam Weiss

Anonymous

Julia Hoover

Cookies

Chips are expected to be given chances Sugar cookies could only dream of

We are painstakingly prepared and mixed

Promoted to front platter

Blissfully unaware

While disappointed sugar cookies

Of the cookie cutter

Watch from the sidelines

We are coaxed through This bakery is a monopoly We are mixed and kneaded, stirred and strewn

And people love the sugar on the surface

Before heading towards the inevitable The cookie cutter

While criticized by their own

As we are placed in the mixing bowl

Sugar cookies achingly ebb and flow with frosting

We are already prepared

In order to maintain their perfect image

We are no longer defined

Of a materialistic life

By egg or sugar

Veiled from the whisked judgement

Butter or flour We simply can’t be discerned from one another

Or is this just the sting

For we are all dough

Of sliced metal

And we are all going

Swiftly and smoothly

Whether we like it or not

Breaking us into categories As we turn to each other

Sugar cookies

Unable to see the true problem

Are expected to sit sweetly on the counter

For the reassuring whisper of the cookie cutter

Frosting in place

Assures us this is the only way

While the chocolate chip cookies Ridicule them

And what of nonconforming batter?

The other flavors

When did it become expected of sugar cookies

Drier and dried

To become docile and harmless

Chocolate chips that like chocolate chips

When did it become acceptable

And the snickerdoodle believing in different ovens

For chocolate chip cookies

The cookie cutter finds them undesirable

To irritate the sugar cookies

They are tossed aside

With no repercussions

Unable to fit

Just a simple “chips will be chips”

Inside this perfect little utopia Of cookies

Peyton Keffer

Lee Must

Living in an Ocean [An Excerpt] Anxiety is like living in an ocean composed of your tears and your pain.

Just like any other ocean, This ocean has high tides.

Because the pain comes in waves, And sometimes you start to drown.

When the ocean’s high tides begin, the waves pull you back into the ocean.

Back into a place of sorrow and worry.

You start to hyperventilate.

The riptide is pulling you in.

Everywhere starts to buzz, Your hands, Your face, Your legs, But most of all, your mind.

You lean your head over your knees, gasping for air.

Did you know that water has memory?

The water makes you remember.

You remember what happened last time.

You remembered how they hurt you.

And when the waves roll onto the shore, they trigger you into a panic.

You’ve been here before.

Something is off.

But the waves just creep back into the ocean.

It was nothing, just empty water.

One day, you will start to wonder, Why me?

What a scary question.

A question that leads to nowhere.

Because there’s never an adequate answer.

You will pick yourself apart to find an answer until there’s nothing left but broken pieces.

Anonymous

Ryan Neihsl

Mors Opheliae Pullata in aquulam mergitur; Qualis clepsydra, lacrima sola decidit Decretum cum facit decrescere.

Desiderium serenum hanc detrahit: Flores alteri degravati sublabuntur Cum elementum patrium proprium desidit Alte in desperationem She in mourning is plunged into the brook; Like a water clock, a lone tear falls As she makes her decision to fade from life.

A serene feeling of loss drags her to the bottom: The other flowers, weighed down, wilt As she sinks deep Into her native element, despair.

Olivia Gandee

Ellie Barron

Lilly Richards

Peyton Keffer

Fire The dangerous dancing of a devouring blaze.

But it is not always in a pit, or a pile of sticks waiting to be lit.

Fire is the burning passion and desire within each one of us Oh! What we could learn and understand, if we would only look, and take the fire’s hand.

Claire Martin

Lee Must

Sam Weiss

Quote from p. 237 of the Norton edition of Bram Stoker’s Dracula.

Alexa Dinneweth

Language!

The subject of a super serum Stored away as a soldier He was diminutive And came back agile Like a phoenix rising from the ashes America’s ass was found He captured the girl’s heart And even got the dance The Captain Always Elyse Kane

Ellie Barron