Post on 21-Jul-2016
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ROOTSby Brett Van Vort
I find it especially relaxing to look at the trees.I stare at them in the fall,I stare at them in the spring.But my favorite is in the winter,When they dance in the crisp night wind.
I hear the sound of the wind rise,Like a call from the trees to look.I see their leaves glimmer in the breeze,And sway softly against the blue sky.
Yet my favorite is in the winter.When they are bare and exposed.Covered is sparkling frostFrozen in a humbling pose.
I feel secure walking on a path lined with trees.It reminds me of the street I grew up on.There was an Old Tree I used to sit under,In a field across from my house.I would lay under it for hoursStaring at the veins that protruded into the sky.There was so much meaning in those moments.With my fast changing life-I felt that moment would last forever.Despite the ongoing strife.
Yet here I am,Hundreds ofmiles away from my Old Tree,Surrounded by so manyYet none mean as much to me.
Cover Art By: Susa Breese
I ssue #1 presented by: Kelsey Talbutt, Susa Breese, Aaron Ayala, Brett VanVort, Emma Levensohn,
Macy Weymar, J ennifer Wilkey, and Evan Coleman.
THE DOORKNOB
by Evan Coleman
Once upon a time there was a man with a small
doorknob growing from his head. Wherever he walked he felt eyes
longing to turn the handle, saw friends pretend not to notice, saw
the mailman refuse to acknowledge the doorknob’s presence as it
protruded from his forehead, slightly to the right and up, its soiled
brass base permeated through his pale skin. He had played out the
countless scenes in his mind the knocks of knuckles asking is
there anyone home? The endless puns involving keys and locks
and vacancies, and even a dream in which men the size of
Lilliputters from Gulliver’s Travels had posted for sale signs from
his hair, and inhabited his facial orifices.But one day he locked
eyes with a one-toothed girl. She gazed back from her small
wheeler.The two smiled, then laughed.And the baby girl walked
over to him. She pulled on his face, stretching out his many
wrinkles, and as she did the man realized that there was no
doorknob, that there had never been a doorknob.
FAMILY POEM
by Willow Beavis
My grandfather taught me blue
Like the ocean and the sky
The beauty of fresh air and salt spray
His hands were calloused from the ropes
My grandfather taught me white
The color of billowing sails
And the clouds beyond the shore
The sea his realm
My grandfather, the source ofmany ofmy joyful memories,
Lost all of his in time
And slowly drifted away
Like a boat from the dock, the sails not yet caught by the wind.
By: Diana Weymar
ENDLESSLYby Gavin Scott
Cold, tired and hopeless I wandered on.. .
Its been a while now
the creeping dark shadows
twisting, turning.
Trying to give me the answer.
But they are speechless,
silent voices scream to me.
Yet I cannot hear their secrets,
Cold windy pavement goes on relentlessly.
Evidence of civilization,
shouting in the distance.
Slowly reaching inside
cold blackness of skin and bones
allowing a small flame to thrive.
hope.
It illuminates the blackness
closer, closer, closer.
MOMMY PLEASEAnonymous
Mommy what are you doing.
Put your cup down, please
The other parents are looking
Don’t you care?
Maddie and her mom are leaving
Doesn’t that matter?
Mommy where is my cake
I ts supposed to be
My special day
Mommy stop can’t you see its hurting me
Watch me blow out my candles
Watch me for once
Put down your cup now
N ow, oh please mommy
Stop fal l ing, stop laughing
J ust watch me
I t’s my day
Mommy love me please
For once just look and smile.
Tel l me what ‘s real ly wrong.
Stop numbing yourself with that drink that ki l ls
That drink that is tearing you apart
I love you no matter what
J ust stop
BE THE LEAFby Abbie Ward
Orange leaves cascade
Encasing the ones around
Consuming spirits
By: Lawson Lin
by Kristine Bailey
I have run over
your skateboard
that was on
the driveway
and which
you were probably
planning
to ride with friends
forgive me
but if you had brought it in
like mom asked 5 times
it would not now be
so crushed
and so broken
By: J ennifer Wilkey
FIRST SNOWby Macy Weymar
The first snow of the year was on a Saturday. We all eagerly pulled onour snow pants, hats, mittens, snow jackets, the works. As we ran outside, theseven-year-old in all of us began to show. We flopped down on our backs andmade snow angels, not caring that cold melting snow crept down our necks.The snow danced down, covering the back yard in a perfect white blanket.Snowflakes decorated our eyelashes and wild hair.
The dog was unsure at first what to make of the white fluff. It was herfirst snow, and she was unsure what to think. Then, she slowly and gingerlywalked into the inches of snow. Realizing this weird white stuff held no threatto her, the previously ruffled hair on the back of her neck smoothed downagain. Snowflakes caught on her fuzzy puppy fur and she jumped around. Sheleft little paw prints in the snow like a trail of breadcrumbs. All cautiousnesswas gone. She chased the small snowballs we threw, only to pounce on asmall heap of broken snow. She tried biting snowflakes and catching them inher mouth, and the shock was clearly visible on her face when they meltedinto cool water in her mouth. She didn't know the name for this weird stuffthat was falling from the sky, but she knew she loved it. She pranced aroundus as we made mini snowmen and plowed through them like Godzilla. Weblew visible breaths like a dragon breathing fire, and our freedom had nolimit. We played until our mittens were soaked, our noses were red, and hairsoaked. Reluctantly, we went back in, wishing we could spend all day outside,in the bliss of the first snow.
ODE TO BOREASby Aaron Ayala
O Boreas, Boreas, god of cold Northern gusts,
Leather wings, rotten grin; your rule is unjust.
Your invasion has started, your annex begun,
With first fall of snow, your first thread is spun.
Smear the sky black with charcoal, turn the earth pallid white,
Let tyrannical rage feed you newfound delight.
Drive man deep underground, constrain your seat in throne,
Freeze earth and hell over; make them both your new home.
Just remember one simple, little thing please,
When your kingdom is melting, and you're brought to you'reknees;
Wise men say all is fleeting; yes, this does include you,
All the things that I tell you I promise are true.
Memento mori repaid by your grace alone,
Man shall be Nero, set ablaze your rime Rome.
But for now tinker freely, take great joy in our dread,
And sleep sweetly tonight, with no price on your head.
By: J ennifer Wilkey
ARIZONAHEATby Kristine Bailey
Ground burning my feetFlames rising from the cacti
The desert in me
By: Diana Weymar
BURNING BONFIREby Brandon Nelson
Sitting by the sea
In the soft sand
Listening to your favorite band
You feel so free
At the burning bonfire
Talking to your friends
Stalked in the peaceful night
By the bugs that surround the fire
In a display of peaceful flight
At the burning bonfire
It radiates warmth on you
From the cool sea breeze that pinches you
Off into the dark beyond
Where the light can’t reach
At the burning bonfire
The fire draws in the soul
Of the past and blues
Though the pop and crackle
Reassures ofwhat makes you
Oh the burning bonfire
THE MATCHSTICKby Brett Van Vort
There was the soft scent of cinnamon-
As she placed her oatmeal raisin cookies in the oven.
Her eyes soaked with love,
Every beat of her heart towards her broken son.
Her heart ignited in the sun.
Her soul flickered in the rain.
She was as patient as a candle,
Holding the weight of the world as a flame.
In my dark cave,
You showed me it was in fact a tunnel.
You strung lights that shined like beacons.
And I found my way out.
In my next loneliness
I will remember the sweet aroma of cinnamon.
As I know your everlasting love for me, your kin.
When it was dark I only knew sin.
Like a candle that never goes out.
I finally feel your light within
By: J ennifer Wilkey
DO I KNOW MYSELFby Aaron Ayala
Sometimes,you feel so alone in the universe.
Without Hellos or hugs, without pats on the back,you start to question your own worth.
Maybe, when the pressure starts building,
When the walls start mounting and it seems bleakest and blandest,
That's when you must look inward.
Look to your own accomplishments and dreams and visions, knowthat they are no one else's.
Your own living breathing existence,
Deeper you may delve, scared you may get,
But be calm, please, don't fear yourself.
Get to know these cave walls, etch your name, play with lightpuppets and dance in its grandeur.
All you have is yourself, your spirit and being.
Love your part of the universe.
Love being enormous and grand, one followed by however manyzeros of atoms and leptons and quarks and tiny bacteria beings,
all a part of you,
Love being minuscule and humbled, a creature in a country on aplanet in a solar system, so on so forth,
This is love for life, to be able to zoom in and out and be happy sseeing any angle or position.
Do not fear the lone expedition of these realms so unfamiliar.
Only ask,
Do I know myselfwell enough to be good company on the way?
PRIMARY COLORSby Susa Breese
My sister taught me red
Her childish excitement abounded through my grey heart
I had given up on the colors I knew,
Rejected the tradition of a painted face.
My sister taught me blue
Her calm when listening to the words in a story
She colored in the blank spaces in the coloring book.
My sister taught me yellow
With a hug and a smile, I forgot the years without.
The primary colors I failed to understand
She taught me to keep painting.
By: Susa Breese
WHERE ONCE THE GREAT OAK STOODby Jesse Sataloff
When one’s autumn begets to winter,
‘fore the leaves begin to fall,
when the fire leaves to asheswith no ember there to tell
of the roots once inhabiting
or the burning once occurred.
When this, dear friend,
O poor, poor friend,
when this perchance befalls,
curse not the wretched twisted winds,
ofwinters endless blight.
Nor cast into the hapless masses,
of dreary dark, and weary ashes,
an everlasting spite.
For though you tremble midst
Winters gale,
and though for warmth
your body wails,
this very spot to myriad past,
gave warmth of life,
and once shelter cast.