Cleveland State Community College ENGLISH DEPARTMENT · 2017. 3. 14. · Not Enough Tomorrows ........

Cleveland State Community CollegeENGLISH DEPARTMENT

Editor: Julie Fulbright

Front cover photography by: Marchelle Wear

Graphic Design and Production: Tony Bartolo and Donna Benton

Printer: Dockins Graphics, Cleveland, Tenn.

Copyright: 2011

Cleveland State Community College

clevelandstatecc.edu

All Rights Reserved

Cleveland State Community College is accredited by the Commission on Colleges of the Southern Association of Colleges and Schools, 1866 Southern Lane, Decatur, Ga. 30033-4097, telephone number (404) 679-4501. ClevelandStateCommunityCollegeisanAffirmativeAction/EqualEmploymentOpportunity(AA/EEO)institutioncommittedtotheeducationofanon-raciallyidentifiablestaffandstudentbody.Thecollege does not permit discrimination on the basis of race, color, religious views,veteranstatus,politicalaffiliation,gender,age,nationalorigin,orientation or disability against employees, students and guests in any college sponsored or hosted educational program or activity including, but not limited to, the following: recruitment; admissions; academic and other educational program activities; housing; facilities; access to course offerings;counseling;financialassistance;employmentassistance;healthandinsurancebenefitsandservices;rulesformaritalandparentalstatus;student services; and athletics.

CSCCHS/11129/04112011

Table of Contents

Aaron Quinn Blackness of Emotions ................................. 4 Syllable Away ............................................... 5 Unpaved Path ............................................... 6 TheWellHouse............................................ 7-11Natalie Hill Paul ...............................................................12 Heart-to-Heart ............................................... 13C.Howard IWishTimeWouldFly ................................. 14Lita Connolly Broken Light ................................................. 15 Burning Life .................................................. 16 Burning My Past ........................................... 17 Guarding My Sanity ..................................... 18 Journey to an End ......................................... 19 Unknown .......................................................20TashiaHarvey Untitled .........................................................21Andrea Morris My Mommy Dearest .....................................22JonathanHall WhatKindofChocolate? .............................23 ADayinFebruaryatClevelandState ..........24 My Love ........................................................25 Ode to My Car ..............................................26 Ol’WornGuitar ............................................27 Soccer Champions ........................................28 TheGoodStudent .........................................29 TheLostTroopers ......................................... 30 Winter ........................................................... 31OscarPascual TheProblemwithProblems .........................32 Stranger ......................................................... 33 NailTacksonMyBed .................................. 34 Unknown ....................................................... 35C. Michael Downes Song .............................................................. 36 Old Acquaintances ........................................ 37Michael Honaker Cephei ........................................................... 38AsaFlowers IAmMe ........................................................ 39FrankieConar InnocenceLost .............................................. 40 TheOldOnesSay ......................................... 41 TheStudent’sPsalm .....................................42 SeasonsofTime ............................................ 43Lauren Link Always Remember ........................................ 44EszterKovacs SongoftheHeart .......................................... 45Zack Scoggins Star Gazer ..................................................... 46TonyaArsenault TheBarefootPrincess ................................... 47 TheFatherIFailedtoSee ............................. 48 THESNAKE ................................................ 49 TheYellowRaincoat ..................................... 50 Toy ................................................................ 51

My American Hero .......................................52 LearnfromYourChildren ............................. 53 Nighttime Confessions .................................. 54 Stop and Smell the Roses: An Elegy for Rosemary ............................. 55 Sweet Release ............................................... 56 TeardropRain ............................................... 57TommyStamey SometimesICry ........................................... 58 TooManyYesterdaysand NotEnoughTomorrows ............................. 59-60 ThisThing ..................................................... 61 TheButterflyEffect ......................................62 Crush ............................................................. 63 Guilt Ridden .................................................. 6 Just One Lie .................................................. 65 ICan’tBeYourHero .................................... 66-67TylerWickman Sonnet ........................................................... 68Sharon DePierro Gypsy Skirts .................................................. 69 Silent Bond ................................................... 70 Lone Stalk ..................................................... 71Chris Bennett Sleep .............................................................72 Hour Glass .................................................... 73 Untitled ......................................................... 74SierraWhite SuicideSpotter .............................................. 75JamesLongEagleKilgore Autistic Student at Cleveland State .............. 76JeffYoung BlessedDebt ................................................. 77 Beach at Dusk ............................................... 78AnthonyBowers InMemoryofaFriend .................................. 79DouglasParris ThePurposeofSilence ................................. 80TiffanyTate Ocean ............................................................ 81C. Michael Downes Soon ..............................................................82-84EszterKovacsAaron QuinnAnonymous AnotherKindofMother ................................ 85

Photographs and Drawings:

TonyaArsenault,AllenBouchard,MandyCantrelle,AngelaChism,KylieClark, Lita Connolly, Misti Davis, C. Michael Downes, Annika Endo, James Garrett,KatelynHarrod,GrangerHughes,BarrettKibble,TatyanaKrish-chuk,AimeeMorris,ZackScoggins,FrancehskaScruggs,RossSpurgeon,JamesTivis,andMarchelleWear.

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Blackness of EmotionsAaron Quinn

Strangled by loss of reasonDriven by sight givenPeeks of humanity’s liesDrives them to thinkHeld on by knots of fearLosing breath by their jeersCaptivated by depravityBlackness of emotions washAway the crimson of religionNegating the white of purityTainting the blue of the skyIgnorance prances along mouthsLooks burn hatred into skinIt is time to hang anotherOne man of a different colorFor this act we sacrificeWe sacrifice our humanityAll for gaining securityFrom the fear of differences

Photo submitted by Angela Chism

5

Syllable AwayAaron Quinn

Bleed into the perceptive circleOptically challenge the winter of youthGuiding me into the spring of adulthoodTeachmeShakespeareantruthsBringAWinter’sTale’shopeInto“TheWinterofMyDiscontent”Allow the warmth of earth’s core permeate Blazing through the coldness of my ignorance Grayness of the unknown hides shades of knowledge An array of colors exist on your canvas Merge them into the void of my immaturity Silence the doubts of my lack of wisdom Blow winds of wisdom out of my tongue LightingafireofunderstandingthatfloatsLike a cloud full of life giving rain DropletsofsuretywillbringforthflowersThatwilldecoratethementallifeIliveThen,nature,IwillseeallthroughyourstatureI will know nothing while piercing every thought Only to realize I have never thought a thought Yet,allpossibilitiesarejustasyllableaway

Photo submitted by Tatyana Krishchuk

6

Unpaved PathAaron Quinn

My vision impaired as though pierced by lightEyes twitching, capturing images of the unfathomed I lift up as though I have Herculean strength Though I move as much as a statue Beauty that is statuesque Details that are carved out by poets’ verse A song sung by lovers’ hearts Emerges from the reaction of the written Challenged by forevermore in the here and now But never made uncomfortable by what they say Lethargy’s mindset becomes the great foe As whimsical thoughts lead to and froI have died a martyr’s death to ill logic All for the sake of the definition of truth Thanks to the poet I calm like a still river While I rage like a hurricane affected ocean My insides are brittle when I stagnate But immortality greets me when I read the sonnets I plead for more when I shut the book But poetic lines never cease to speak As long as I lend them an ear For them to romantically whisper in Pushing me along literature’s unpaved path

Photo submitted by Kathy Austin(Subject depicted in photo is not related to the story)

Photo submitted by Marchelle Wear

7

The Well HouseAaron Quinn

Helaughedastheothersranthroughthefieldlookingforhim.Thecornstalkshidhimfromhispursuers.Asheheardthementerintothefield,hegotupandmovedintothetomatofield.Billyhadnodesiretobeseentoday,oranyotherday for that matter, so inside the tomato patch he listened for the people coming fromhim,judginghowlonghewouldhavetoescapedetectioniftheymanagedtobreakthroughtheexpansivefieldtheywerefightingfor.Helookedatthestolenpropertythatdrippedreddownhishandsandcheeks.Thewarmthofthe liquid contrasted the unseasonable chill summer afternoon, and made the uncovered part of him even colder. It did not help matters that clouds blocked the sun from bringing heat to the ground, and now as he sat in his shorts and shirt,thegroundfeltmiserablycoldforanAugustday.Thesoilthathidbelowhim had been turned into a thick sticky mud after feeling the effects of an extremely rainy season. “Wehavetofindhimquick,”astockyguynamedStanknockedastalkofcorn

outofhisfacewhilescreamingthewordstothepeoplefivefeetfromhim.“Now, boss, if you feel like screaming at us, you better be planning on telling

uswhereyoubelievetheboyis,”anoldman,sixty-yearsold,namedFoster,hacked at the corn while responding to Stan’s shout. Thoughitwasnotuncommonforparents,authorities,orfriendstogolooking

for Billy, today there was a sense of urgency in the pursuit of the misplaced citizen. It sat heavily on how they said words, how they heard words, and how theyreactedtowords.Thevastcornfieldmadeanirritationmixwithsenseurgency.

Photo submitted by Granger Hughes

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“Ireckonthattheoneswholastsaw‘emsaidhebeinthisherecornfield.UntilIgetareportsayingotherwise,thenwelookhere.”Theothertenpeoplewho were in ear shot took in Stan’s voice and continued hacking down old man Jim’s corn.

Old man Jim followed behind the search party cursing Billy under his breath and hoping that all would turn out better than he feared. Everything during Billy’s twenty three years had been an overreaction or misconception and, silently, he prayed that this time would be no different.

Aretha, Billy’s mother, frantically paced her porch, waiting on word of Billy’s well being. After many nights looking for her special son, she succumbed not so willingly to staying at home per the request of the police lieutenant. Sweat randownherhandsfromrubbingthemtogethersohard.Todayfeltdifferent,frightfully different for her. An ominous aura hung gloomily over her head, but shehopedallwouldturnoutwellforherfamily.Thelastthingshewantedtodo was deal with her passive aggressive husband if Billy’s actions once again embarrassed the family. She had pleaded with her husband to trust the good Lord this time with their son. She tried her best to convince him that Billy never meant any harm to anybody, especially them, that after all he was special.

Billy started digging in the black lifeless mud. In the distance he could hear the corn stalks falling. He knew this meant that the mob was getting closer. He had dealt with this situation before, and something inside him screamed that he should run. At the same time, a cry rose from below his heart.ThecryhitStan’searsforcinghisheadtoshootup.Behindhimtheotherssaw

himlooklikeacoondogthathadjustcaughtasniffofthepreyitlookedfor.“Guys,didyouhearthat?”Stanstoodstatuesquein-betweentwocornstalks,

tryingtocatchwindofthefaintcryagain.Timetohim,atthisjunctureofthesearch, was precious, and if this gift passed, then his allotment of time decreased because of it. “No,sum.Sah,whachahear?”AmechanicnamedPhinaskedStan,

dismayed that he might have missed something important in the search.“Thecry!Didnoonehearthecry?”Asalionwouldturnfuriouslyaroundand

glare at a disobedient cub, Stan turned his attention to the pack behind him. He becamedistraughtwheneachofthegroupchildishlyshooktheirheads.“Well,I’llbe…”Beforehecouldbeginhistirade,aloudercrycameabovethecornstalks and smacked the group hard.“SoundslikeBilly,”OldmanJimpipedupfromtheback,speakingwitha

calm that only many years of wear and tear could induce. His calm unsettled the men he startled by speaking of; in times like this, a bit of edge on a man’s voice can bring more calm than the steady drum of experience.

Billy realized how loud the cry was that escaped from below and knew he had to escape detection now. Red dripped off the man who longed for the chase to continue. Hide and seek had always been one of his favorite games when he was justalad,andtodaytherushhefeltfromothersstalkinghimdownbroughtagiggle forth.

He searched all around him, looking for a place to hide, when an image of an

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abandonedwellhouseglimmeredin.Withtheimageforciblyinhisheadnow,he hunted the horizon hastily hoping he could remember which direction he needed to go.

Just outside of the tomato patch, a large hill dipped down and lead to a dense forest. If his memory was accurate then it was about a mile into these woods he wouldfindtheoldwellhouseheplayedinduringalesscomplicatedtimeofhislife.Withasenseofurgency,Billystoodupandrantowardsthehill.Atremblewentdownthespineofthegrievingmother.Thoughshecould

not explain what had happened, she could tell that something went drastically arrayinthesearch.Theonlythingshecouldthinktodowaspray,andthisshewas used to doing. Pressure had mounted though, and this woman’s feeble heart couldnotfindthewordstopray.Insteadshejustsatandsobbedonherknees.As the tears soaked her colorless cheeks, the stress from the situation caused her tokilloveronthefloor.Justasherheartstoppedworking,herhusbandmadeithometoseehishouse-wifelifelessonthefloor.Theyoungofthegrouphurriedahead,clearingapathforthetownsfolkwho

no longer had the strength to naturally move fast, nor had the imagination to run inhopeofapositiveoutcome.TheyescapedthecornjustintimetomissBillycrossing over the hill.

“Alright, boys, we know he is … well where the blame God above is that retard?”TheairhadbeenpunchedoutofthegutofStanwhenhehadsteppedthrough and saw no sign of Billy. Now he and the crew must start their search with no direction. “Well,I’llbeplumbeddamned,son,”oldmanJimcametothefrontofthe

bewildered group.“Iknow,Iwhastfersurewedonehad‘em,”Stanscratchedhisheadin

exasperation.“Wedohave‘em,sir.”“Whatyoutalkin’‘bout,oldman?”Standidnothavethepatiencetoplay

riddlegamesatthismoment,andwantedthedinosaurofthetowntojustspeakwhat he meant.“Thatlittlepeckerdonesteppedonmahmaterplants.Plusoveryonderishis

prints.”Stanlookedatthedirectiontheoldman’scrinkledfingerpointedandsawthat

indeedBillylefttrackmarks.“Ireckonweheadthatwaythen.”Stanthrewhisarm over his head, directing the others to follow him.“Nowwatchthematerplants.”Thefarmerstruggledtoputonefootinfrontof

the other as the sun started to fall over the horizon.“Dadnabit,Billy,”thefatherofthehuntedwailedoutasheheldhisdeadwife

in his arms. He had mustered enough energy to call 911. Now, after the exertion, he settled into his misery, with his wife in his arms and perplexity in his mind.

Billy stumbled clumsily through the woods, trying his best not to tumble over theweightofhispassage.Therootsstuckupoutoftheground,makingthetrektowardsthewellhouseevenmoredifficult.

Now that the sun had became an antagonist, Billy frantically searched for his

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destination.Hefeltthestickinessfromthefield,theliquidhehadwipedonhisface had mixed with the salt that had came from the sweat when he hurried to escape from visibility, and the mixture now stuck uncomfortably against his face.Thirtymenranintothewoods,twentyhadjoinedStaninthetomatopatch,

andwiththemfivesearchdogscamewiththenewpartymembers.“Dotheyhavehisscent?”“Theydo,Stan.Billy’sfathergaveushisclothing.Weshouldhavehim

shortly,”Drewtheofficerwhohadgotthearticlesofclothing,responded.“Good,wewillgetthatboysafelythen,hopefully.”“Goget‘em.”Drewlethisdogoffofhisleash,andtheotherofficersfollowed

suit with their dogs.“Finally,”Billymutteredashesteppeddownintothecreekthatleadsintothe

buildinghehadfound.Theoldwellhousehaddecayingbricks;thedecayinghad caused cracks to run through the once perfectly shaped bricks, that were muddiedrednowafteryearsofwearandtear.Yearsofneglecthadmadethewater inside stagnant, and the smell that came into Billy’s nostrils reminded himofdeath.Hesteppedontothemuddyfloorinside,andinstantlythesmellchanged to that of manure. Using his free hand, he managed to pull himself upontoaledgeandlaidhisheaddown,confidentthathecouldescapethenightmares of this hide and seek game.Withdogsleadingtheway,thesearchpartyhurriedintothewoods,making

progressslowlybuturgently.Flashlightsweredrawn,andnerveswereevenmoreonedgenowthatthesunhaddippedbelowtheskyline.Timehadmadea valiant punch, and now their counter punch was a sense of urgency that produced speed. WithinfifteenminutesofBillylayinghisheaddown,thedogshadsurrounded

thewellhouseasthoughtheyhadtreedaforestanimal.Thesearchpartywasnotfarbehind,andthosewhomadeitfirsttookamomenttocatchtheirbreathas the others caught up.Billyfoughttofallasleep,butdaydreamsofdogsbarkingbroughtafitful

restuntilhefinallyaroseandrealizedthatthedogswerereal,andhehadbeen discovered. He started sobbing at the fact that his little attempt had been thwarted.

“Billy, son, now don’t make us come in there. It ain’t going to be purty if we haveto,yahear?”

Billy looked down at his hands that held his transgression and thought better thantokeepthemenwaiting.Thoughreluctantly,hepushedupwithonearmand pushed all his weight towards the window, as his sobs got harder. Death had neverbeenhisintention,butafterescapingintothetomatofield,heguessedhehad sealed his fate. Once there, turning back was not an option.

Stan watched with horror as the body Billy possessed fell down from the window. ThegroupraninclosetoexaminehowmuchdamageBilly’sdecisionhaddone.Thefearsofallwhoweretherebecameconfirmedwhentheysawthebody.

Six year old Caleb laid there motionless. Caleb was the boy who had been reportedmissingfortwodaysnow.WhenBilly’smomhadreportedBilly

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missing, everyone had put both reports together to form their suspicions. Once the suspicions began, the search for the two ensued quickly.

Billy had been known for committing many crimes, but he had never done anything like this. But Caleb, the son of Billy’s ex-girlfriend, had proved to be a perfectrevengeobject.Hisintentatfirstwasjusttoscarethewoman,butafterstabbing the boy, to threaten him to remain silent, and it did not work, Billy panicked and slit the boy’s throat. As he ran over the hill, he held him tightly, wanting to prevent blood from dripping on the grass. Now with these turn of eventsfloodingintohismind,Billysulkeddownthewellandsurrenderedsilently and passively, knowing he had be found guilty of wasting two lives.

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PaulNatalie Hill

It’s been a while since we said goodbye, when you held me in your arms and watched me cry. I swore that wouldn’t be the last day, but here I sit in my room and it’s already May. TheysayAprilshowersbringMayflowers,butwherearethey?Batteredandfrayed?WhenweweretogetherIhadhopesanddreams,but as you walked away so did my dreams. Dreams of love, security, children, and acceptance, yet again you left my love and forced a distance. YousworeonyourgraveIwastheonewithyourheart,andthatwasjustthestart.A start of a life together that would last from now until forever. Wherediditend,orstart?I didn’t want us to play these parts. Parts of a game of lies and deceit, where we were both forced to retreat.Youfrommeandmefromyou,I would have followed you anywhere you asked me to. Isn’titsadhowIbecameapuppetinyourgame?Ifellforyou,isn’tthatashame?I look like an idiot who has no pride as I lie down and let you watch me die. But that was then and this is now, so let me explain me to you now. I am me and you are you, I’ll never do anything you ask me to. I picked myself up when you didn’t care, letting a few help me with the pain I bared. Thosefriendswhohavehelpedmeinthistryingtime,I never want our friendships to die. You’vehelpedmestandwithmyheadheldhigh,and I’ll never let another man like him watch me cry. I don’t need a man to be in my dreams; all I need is hope and me. One last thing before I go, he wanted us to name our dog Paul; I already hated that stupid dog.

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Heart-to-HeartNatalie Hill

Explain to me what all I’ve lost because of my stupid pride, come with me now, let’s take a ride, a ride through the trees feeling the amazing breeze, now sit back and listen to all that I say, it might help down this long, dark, and gloomy way. Tryasyouwill,youcan’tchangethemindofman,ofamanofthatkind.Hurt and alone but deep in pain, can’tfindthewayaroundthatrockandchain.It’s the beat of your heart that keeps you here, and will always draw you near. But listen, dear child, as I say it’s ok to walk away, buthearmeoutonelasttime,it’salsooktostayandfight.

Photo submitted by Kylie Clark

14Photo submitted by Lita Connolly

I Wish Time Would FlyC. Howard

Iwishtimewouldfly,so you could be here with me.

Wecouldtakeourtimeand be where we wanted to be.

Youandmeinlove.Iwishtimewouldfly

so we could take our time.

15

Broken LightLita Connolly

Cracked and bleeding So broken insideFeelherfallingapartTheworldcrumblingaroundherAnd the blackness creeping inThreateningtotakehold

WhenallseemedbleakHelp from nowhereThenthroughthedarkTheflickerofalightStarting to form

It builds in strengthPushes the demons backComes to her aid

FindsabrokengirlHer hands clasped tightShielding her heartTryingtoholdittogether

ThelightcomesinLoosening her grasp EngulfingherheartNow drenched in light

Her crumbling worldBeginning to healNo longer so brokenShe can now thrive

Photo submitted by Zack Scoggins

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Burning LifeLita Connolly

TheflameI’dthoughtdiedI found is still burningSlowly creeping inEngulfingmyheartI feel it seer the edgesWearingitdownTillnothingisleft

A physical painAn ache in my chestToshowthisisrealTobringmetomyendBut do I relent And let it pull freeTakingandburningAll that is me

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Burning My PastLita Connolly

I burn my pastAnd with it the pain that it heldHolding me back from what I can be

I burn my pastAndamfilledwithsorrowWatchwhatIwasgoupinflames

But as it burnsIamfilledwithaknowledgeKnowledgethatIhavechangedI have been rebornNot held by those memories

IwatchtheflameslickDevouring what I once wasA new beginning ThathasbeenreachingforwardNeeding lifeBut suffocatingIs now bornAnd can thrive

Like the rebirth of a phoenixBorn from the ashesOf what it once wasAs I watch my past burnAnd turned to ashI am rebornAs the phoenix begins anewSo shall IWithouttheweightofmypastNow that I have let go of my painAnd have burned my past I will live once again

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Guarding My SanityLita Connolly

I’ve been so guarded scared to feel

scared of drowning the walls protectand keep me sane

when the walls came downyou were there to guard

to help me feelswim when I can’t protect where I failand save my sanity


19Photo submitted by Misti Davis

Journey to an EndLita Connolly

Whyshouldwebother?Wheneverythingendsinpain

Death and destructionAwait your arrival

So why should we care Ifwefindhappinessorlove

WhenpeopledieAndalljoywillstop

ThejourneyismoreimportantNot where we are going

It matters how you get thereSoinlife’sjourney

WealldieAnd everything ends

But how you get thereIs what makes it worth the trip

20Photo submitted by Lita Connolly

UnknownLita Connolly

Laying in the darkClutching to my heart

TrytokeepitfrombreakingWhyistherethisaching?

TearingmeapartButwheredoesitstart?ThoughIhavemorejoyMy mind it will destroy

Takemylove,mysoulandlifeNotknowingwhatislefttofight

21Photo submitted by Tonya Arsenault

UntitledTashiaHarvey

I rock my two babiesSo adorable, so innocent, so cute, loved

Heavenly peace, as they sleep

22Photo submitted by Heather Ruzic

My Mommy DearestAndrea Morris

How could you leave me not once but twiceWhatdidIeverdotomakeyourheartcoldasice.

FromthedayIwasbornIhaveneverfeltyourloveNot a pat on the back, a kiss on the cheek, or even a hug

Now thirty years later I’m still in this painJust want to know why so I don’t go insane

I know I’m not perfect but neither are youYouactlikeIdon’texistbutI’mhere,I’mreal,andIhurttoo

How could you disown your very own daughterTakeeverythingIhadevenmyfather

I should be angry, upset, and even outragedBut it’s taken me this long to break loose from this cage

It’snotuptometojudgeyouforallofyourwrongThat’suptoGodandyounowandthatiswhatkeepsmestrong

Youaremymother,theonlyoneIwilleverknowI hope that you love me even though it will never show

TobeamotherisagiftandIamonenowtooThankyou,Mom,forshowingmewhatnottodo

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What Kind of Chocolate?Jonathan Hall

I must admit I have no clueWhatkindofchocolateIlovebest

Dark, milk, and whiteIt’s like an unending quest

ThejourneystartswithaReese’scupSuch perfection is peanut butter and chocolate

ThencomeMilkyWay,Cookiesn’Cream,andM&M’sIce cream and cake are as good as it gets

I love it with a glass of two percent milkOr made into hot cocoa with marshmallowsCan be icings, toppings, or even fountains

It can turn me into a happy fellow

I’ve experimented, tested, pondered, and thoughtWhatcouldpossiblybethesolution

WitheachHershey’skiss,pie,andsundaeI’m drawing no nearer to a conclusion

I’m smart enough to be a college studentEven made the Honor Roll last semester

None of this helps me get any closerIfeelassillyasajester

So there you have it, my confessionI’m slightly embarrassed to share

I’mturningtwenty-fivethiscomingMayWiththischocolateburdentobear

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A Day in February at Cleveland State Jonathan Hall

ThecoldairathisbackThesmellandtasteoffreshairBirds and a girl communicating

Power lines swaying here and thereThehustleandbustleofcarspassing

Eighteen-wheelers, squeaky breaks, and tiresThesunplayinghideandseekbehindgrayclouds

A parking lot with one bad driverTheschoolanditsstudentsmovingaround

BackpacksshuffleandpursesjingleHousewith“StayOut!”fencesup

Some people starting to mingleThegreentreesandgraysky

One dead brown tree with no leavesA school built with cement and brickIjustheardsomepersonsneezeThisisthelifeatClevelandState

SittingonabenchonthisFebruarydate

Photo submitted by Lita Connolly

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My LoveJonathan Hall

Dear Love,

I love having you in my lifeSo proud of the day you became my wifeYourbeautyshinesinsideandoutI love learning more what you are aboutGod’sfingerprintsarealloveryouIt’s the only explanation I can come toFromtherichblackhairsonyourheadToyourwarmfeetwhenwearelyinginbedI hold you in my arms to keep you warmNot a chance for anything to bring you harmYoursoftskinsosoothingtothetouchYoursweethugsandkissesIlovesomuchI thank God above and my lucky starsFormakingyouexactlythewayyouareWouldn’tchangeathingaboutyou,babyAs our love continues to grow like daisiesSo sleep my angel for you need your restCanyouhearmyheartbeatinginmychest?Eachbeatsaysthewords,“Iloveyou”Andyouknowwhat?Iloveyoutoo

Withlove,Jonathan Hall

25Photo submitted byZack Scoggins

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Ode to My CarJonathan Hall

WhatamItodowithacarlikeyou?WeweresupposedtopickherupattwoYoujusthadtobreakdownrightthere

I can see you smirking like you don’t careI take out my cell to give her a callOf course no service, no bars at all

I pitch it in the river some feet belowGreat,nowit’sbeginningtosnow!

IjabthekeyinlikestabbingyourheartTurningwithapassionyelling,“Comeon!Start!”

Finally,IseesomeblueandwhitelightsThankfullysomeonecarestoseeifI’malright

Before I can even utter a wordThepolicemansayssomethingsoabsurd

Hesays,“You’reparkedinanoparkingzone”He writes me a ticket then leaves me alone

I look up as the snow blinds my left eyeIyelltothesky,“WhyGodwhy?!”

I walk to a station in the blizzard coldRealizing how dumb it was to throw my phone

I slide a quarter in the payphoneI dial her number to see if she’s at home

She doesn’t answer which means she’s not thereShe must have thought I didn’t care

YoustupidcarwhatcanIdo?WhatamItodowithacarlikeyou?

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Ol’ Worn GuitarJonathan Hall

Ol’ worn guitar what a time we’ve hadPut smiles on faces when they were sad

YoudancedandentertainedthosewholistenedWe’vehadmoregoodlaughsthancanbementioned

YourstringsandmyfingersdancedthetangoOrwasitdisco,rock‘nroll,fastorslow?

You’vetakengoodcareofmealloftheseyearsI kept you in tune with new strings and gears

Now as I look at your worn bodyI think back when I bought you to start a new hobby

Three-hundredandfiftydollarsitcosttotakeyoufromthatshelfIt took every last dime that I had left

Each scratch a reminder of another great songThatredKool-aidstainontheneckstillisn’tgone

On stage, in homes, audiences big and smallSometimes worshipping God and answering His call

YousavedmylifemoretimesthanIcancountI wouldn’t put you up for sale for any amount

Like a friend you’ve stayed by my sideMydeepest,darkestsecretsinyouIcouldconfide

Now there you lay covered in dustSo much time has passed as the gears begin to rust

I’ll play you one last time before the sun has setForol’time’ssakeandmemoriesI’llneverforget

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Soccer Champions Jonathan Hall

Seven o’clock wake up to Mom’s singingLike a beautiful angel with a message she’s bringingIgetup,putonmyjersey,atthetablebyseven-thirtyHopinthevanwithmomsaying,“Don’tgettoodirty”

Wearriveateighttheteam’ssettingupJohn Lucky number twelve kicking the ball for warm-up

Goalie Sam promises not to let a single goal passKevinSlowfinallycomes,he’salmostalwayslast

Coach Power blows his whistle to line us upWeallsetdownourlemonadecups

He tells us how good we are and to give it our bestHe reminds me of a papa eagle protecting his nestTheotherteamstepsonthefield–theKillerBeesYellowandblackstripesandsockstotheirknees

I take my position, I’m the sweeperI usually never score because I never go deeper

Kick-offbegins,JohnLucky’sinactionKickingtheballupthefieldwithapassionTimegoesbyandafewscoreshereandthere

Fourtotwothefinalscore,theBeescry“Notfair!”It is true; we had in fact won again

Still undefeated I see Coach Power grinMom tells me how great I looked out there

Becoming champions at only age seven is rare

29

The Good Student Jonathan Hall

I was in the library at schoolWorkingonCreativeWritingI saw something pretty cool

InyouIamconfidingThesmalleststudentI’veeverseen

Not even two feet tallLyingonthefloorasleepCurled up in a little ball

Mom was only a few feet awayWorkingonaprojectforclass

Right now all work no playIf she has hopes to pass

ShepausedjustforamomentLooking with love at her treasure

WishinghertimecouldbebetterspentBringing her little one some pleasure

I watched all this with amazementAnd a hint of conviction

I’ve been beating myself up like a cavemanTryingtolearnperfectdiction

Here was a strong young womanTryinghardtomakeittograduation

WhileraisingachildwithatenderhandAnd a young daughter with such patience

Never again will I complainOf having a rough life

ThethingsshehastosustainAt least now I have something to write

30

The Lost TroopersJonathan Hall

I take my pen and start to writeThepainfromthelossIfeelinsideMy hand shakes and my lip quivers

FeelsworsethanwhenIwasshotinmyliverIlayhereinKabulformylastbreaths

I’m not afraid of life after deathYourmomhadmentionedinarecentletter

Thedetailsofyourcancerandyou’dnevergetbetterIn a way I feel connected to you somehow

Mom says you’re stronger than me right nowThemedicseesmytearsbuthedoesn’tknow

You’retherealreasonformysorrowI know I’ll see you soon in Heaven

ThanktheLordyouweresavedatageelevenHowever, Mom is going to be left behind

I thought you’d protect her if I lost my lifeMy darling love, my sweet caress

PleasefindnewloveandknowyouareblessedYouwillhavetwoangelstowatchoveryou

Have mercy, my hand is turning blue…


31

WinterJonathan Hall

SnowflakesfallingdownColdairandfrozenfingers

HowIlovewinter!

Photo submitted by Mandy Cantrelle

32

The Problem with ProblemsOscar Pascual

Thingsshouldn’tbesocomplicated,Theyshouldn’tbesotight.

Sometimes knowing,Doesn’t make you very bright.

Just learn to keep it simple,Even when things are hard.

If you follow this,Youwillbestupidsmart.


33

StrangerOscar Pascual

I changed her name to stranger,And stranger she should be,

But the strangest thing of stranger,She isn’t strange to me.

Photo submitted by Katelyn Harrod

34

Nail Tacks on My BedOscar Pascual

Nail tacks on my bed,Ohtheyjustwon’tletmesleep.

Arrows of poison, And they remind me that I’m a being

I put them to the sideIn the hopes of getting rest,

And I neglect themUntil they consume my every sense.


35

UnknownOscar Pascual

Isn’titironicwhatmostpeopledon’tknow?Theytrytolookforyou,theylookineveryhole,

Thentheyclaimtheyaren’t,andyou’renotthepoint.Butisthereanythingmorereal?

Just enough can solve the world’s problems And too much can kill.


36

SongC. Michael Downes

It is true what they sayabout song, beast and savagery-the melody’s cool sweetness, the sonorous subtlety

quelling the blackenedswelling depths with her songsaying, soothingthe ember crown of Heaven’s dusk returning

Thespiritmovesthinthrough the etheramidst prayers and burnt offeringsthin ribbons of ashen whispersof what may one day be sung together

Our psalm of strength and surrender

Photo submitted by Christian Downes

37

Old AcquaintancesC. Michael Downes

She is wrapped in a perfume scarfThatkissesthebottomofhernose

Her cheeks pink in the coldThenight’sbreezesends

Her eyes ablaze in each blink

She pauses and winksHe grabs the taxi-cab handle

LaughingPlastic leather glove seat rub

Down main street

HiswinterhotelfiresidemantleHeslylyslipsajoke

And she all lashes laughsGlass eyes smiling

Sipping her cool silver martiniWithanoldacquaintance

Photo submitted by Tonya Arsenault

38

CepheiMichael Honaker

TheycallhimCepheiThosetinybeingsonthatdistantrockHe calls himself nothingHe has no need for namesHe was born of tiny simple elements...Helium and hydrogenHe is vast nowAnd growing bigger and bigger with agehe knows his time will end soon...RelativelyHe does not careHe has existed for agesHe has seen many beings come and goSome greater, some lesserHe was born of the beginningMany of his kin have passed onSendingtheirgutsshootingthroughinfinityInablindingflashSeeding the universeSo others could existSo he waits...And watches those tiny beingsOn that distant rock

Photo submitted by Christian Downes

39

I Am MeAsaFlowers

I am an oxymoron.I am too inquisitive to remain clueless, yetI am too unaware to be intelligent.I am too young to be old, yetI am too seasoned to be innocent.I am too bold to be meek, yetI am too afraid to persevere.I am too strong to accept defeat, yetI am too weak to be victorious.I am too inspired to be reasonable, yetI am too grounded to reach for the stars.I am too sensitive to bare disdain, yetI am too calloused to feel the rain.I am too friendly to go to war, yetIamtooconfrontationaltoenjoypeace.I am too outspoken to be silenced, yetI am too muted to be understood.I am too enlightened to be sad, yetIamtoodarktofindlaughter.I am too cynical to be polite, yetI am too kind to be heartless.I am too wild to be bound, yetI am too tame to be free...I am me.

40

Innocence LostFrankieConar

Most everyone my age and older Can remember where they were that day.

WithexcitementIwatchedforhiscartopassbyOn that day, the day my innocence went away.

Timemovessoslowlywhenyourtenyearsold.And the minutes crawled gradually by.

My excitement grew stronger each passing minute.“Herehecomes!”Iheardsomeonecry.

My mother held my hand as we stood with the othersWhowerewaitingforachancetoseehisface.

WeknewtheQueenwouldbewithhim,andwelovedherForshewaspossessedbeautyandgrace.

TheretheyweretheKingandQueenofCamelot.He waved as they passed down the street.

I was proud as I stood there with the othersAnd I was sure I saw a wink when our eyes did meet.

“Mama,Mama,didyousee?Ithinkhewinkedatme!”ThesoundofashotrangoutandIheardpeoplescream.

TheQueensofairwasuponherkneesandTheKingwasslumpedoverinthebackofthelimousine.

Shock seemed to dull my senses as I watched,Along with thousands, as events unfolded that day.

I learned not all fairytales have happy endings On that day, the day my innocence went away.


41

The Old Ones SayFrankieConar

Theoldonessaytheyremember,Orwasitjustadream?Whensparklingwaterdanced,And brooks could really sing.

Theoldonessaytheyremember Something they called dew.Each morning they would see itBack when the grass was green in hue.

TheoldonessaytheyrememberDays spent outside having fun,But that was before our timeWhenpeopleplayedinthesun.

TheoldonessaytheyrememberForestwithtreesstandingtall.Theyevenknewbirdsonsight,And recognized each call.

TheoldonessaytheyrememberWhentheearthwasbeautifulandgreen.ThewaterwassafetodrinkbackthenAnd the air was fresh and clean.

TheoldonessaytheyrememberThedaysspentinidlehoursDancinginfieldsofgreenAndsittingamongtheflowers.

Theoldonessaytheyremember And never gave a thoughtToallthesethings,ortoThepollutionthefactorieswrought.

Theoldonessaytheyremember,Orwasitjustadream?Whensparklingwaterdanced,And brooks could really sing.

42

The Student’s PsalmFrankieConar

Thediplomaismygoal,itiswhatIwant.It maketh me to lie down and study,And leads me through library doors,It troubles my soul.It guides me through the paths at CSCCForitsnamesake.Even though I walkThroughthevalleyoftheshadowoffailureI will fear no testForthoughtsofgraduationarewithme;Junk food and friends,Theycomfortme.ThecafeteriahasatableformeI eat in the presence of my peers.My food is cooked with grease and oil;Andoccasionallymycupoverflows.Surely success will follow meAll the days of my life,And I will dwell among the educated forever.


43

Seasons of TimeFrankieConar

Thewindblows,andtheyearsflyaway,Days whoosh by like the leaves of a tree.Wasyesterdayadecade,oronlyaday?Timemoveson,theminutesflutterfree.

Spring, season of new beginnings, birthBuds burst forth innocent, shiny, newGreen, tender shoots greet the earth

All life sings with its soft subtle hue.

Summer’s rhythm of time and nature teamGrowing, maturing, changing, taking formAlightning’sflash,thenchildhood’sdreamCarried off on the breeze of a sudden storm

ThegustoftimeboldlymarkstheseasonFromgreentogold,red,orangeandbrownWhoischosen?There’snorhymeorreasonTimeandleaveswaftbywithoutasound

Thebreathofwintersaged,blusteringgaleTwisttheremnantsofthoseleftsolate.

Falling,floating,glidingonthewindtheysailAnd at the appointed time, meet their fate.


44

Always RememberLauren Link

It’s true that we will never knowHow long we have on this Earth.

And no one knows for certain the course of this diseaseOr how long you’re going to remember me.

Medicine, all the pills the doctors sayAre supposed to give us more time

Withyou.Before you are gone…

Before you can’t remember Just how amazing of a person you are.

I will always remember.Allyourjokesandsenseofhumor,howyoulaugh.

YouwillbeforeverlockedIn my memory and my heart

As that man you were.

No matter how far doctors say you fall,Youaremygrandfather.

Although so much of you will be gone one day,Tome,somuchwillalwaysremain.Thoseeyesofyoursandyoursmile…

How lucky am I to be your grand-daughter, Tohaveyouinmylife.

So I make this promise to you, grandfather.No matter how long and winding the road,

WhetheryouremembermeOr not.

I will always remember you.

Dedicated to her grandfather(who has Alzheimer’s Disease)

45

Song of the HeartEszterKovacs

Song of the HeartHow silent is your music.

Wherehasyourmelodygone?

SoundofjoyringingFromthevoiceoftheonesinging

Echoing in the soul.

Song of the HeartHow still your instruments lay.

Istherenoonetoplayyournotes?

Perhaps it is sleepingUnder sorrow’s mournful keeping,Overwhelmedbysorrow’slullaby?

Wakefromyourslumber!Let your notes resound within,Themelodyshininginthedark!

Forsorrowmaylastthroughouttheevening,ButGod’sjoycomesinthemorning,

Withit,theSongoftheHeart.

46

Star GazerZack Scoggins

A million suns dot the night,Representing lights of a distant time.

Lying on grass feeling so small.Throughthemoonlitwoods,theowlscall.Faintshimmersandtwinklesupintheair.Thoughfaraway,itsevidenceofflares.Flyingcometsstreaktheabysssky,

As meteorites enter and leave nothing behind.Distant city life beams alternate light.

Farmersandcountrymenhavetruesight.AsIlooktowardtheinfinitescene,

I wonder yet again, if He is watching me.It’s here at this moment I know we are not alone.WhatifHeisanalien,staringrightintomysoul?

47

The Barefoot PrincessTonyaArsenault

Purple colored waterfallsand sugar-coated skiesherimaginationfloating

brings that twinkle to her eyesdressed in gowns of pink

as she begins to dancetwirling like an angel

barefoot in the emerald grasslemon-yellowbutterfliesflyaroundhergoldencurls

she is the princess of this landher shimmering magical worldon swings made of velvet rope

her sparkling smile growsflyingswiftwithfairies

asthechocolateriverflowslarge multi-colored trees

hang not apples, but gumdropsandinherfieldofdaisies

spring from the ground; lollipopsas she slides on rainbows

through cotton candy cloudsmusicfillstheair

and elves begin to dance aroundpeaceful night rolls inlightningbugsflyfast

and so my barefoot princessfalls asleep at last


48

The Father I Failed to SeeTonyaArsenault

You’retheonewhotookmeinAnd showed me how to growYouweresoangrywithhimYetyouneverletitshow

Every time I sat by the windowWatchingandwaitingforhimYouwouldholdandcomfortmeWhenhedidn’tshow,yetagain

WhenhefailedtoappearYouwerealwaysthereforme

Placed behind the image of himThefatherIfailedtosee

TurnedawayfromthewindowTearswellinginmyeyes

Youtellmeit’snotmyfaultAs you hold in the angry sighsYoubandagedmyscrapedknees

WhenIfelltothegroundI would cry for him at nightAnd you heard every soundYoutaughtmehowtoloveAndwhatsacrificemeans

Youweremymother’shusbandOr so it only seemed

YougaveupyourownlifeTobeapartofmine

A thing I took for grantedForwaytoolongatimeYouwereangrywithhimBecause you loved me so

YourheartwouldbreakformeEvery time he wouldn’t show

YouhavealwaysbeensomethingThatIneverseemedtosee

I would see him ever so oftenBut you were the one who raised me

He will always be my fatherDon’t let your heart feel sad

Thoughittooktoolongtorealize

49

THE SNAKETonyaArsenault

It comes to me in the nightIt tells me that you lied

All those times you promised meYetialwayscried

It slips in beneath my doorAnd watches silently

It whispers words of deceitIt whispers that you lied to me

It speaks to me through clenched teethA wicked smile upon its face

It scares me yet it says it speaks the truthItswordsburnlikefireyetit’scomfortinglikelace

It stays there till i fall asleepSmiling that awful smile

Thephone,itringsoffthehookBut yet it hasn’t been dialed

It’s you i know it isYouwanttolietomeoncemore

Just like the thing has told meWhenitslippedunderneathmydoor

It’s told me that you lied to meAnd that you will once again

It’s told me you’ve deceived meYouandallothersuntilthen

One more time it slips in quietlyUnder the door once more

My heart can’t take this againMy soul is getting sore

It creeps across the room to meAndflashesthatdeathlysmileIt tells me that you lied to meThenlooksatmeawhileThistimeican’ttakeit

I tell him “go away,He’s not the one who lied to me

Youhaveledmeastray!”Thenheturns,hiswickedsmilefading

He twists in anger, screaming even moreHecrawlstothefloor,crying

Thenheslipsbackundermydoor

50

The Yellow RaincoatTonyaArsenault

She stands on the sidewalkHer bare feet in a puddle

Her body wrapped in a yellow raincoatShe stands there, huddled

Her eyes are large and chocolate brownAnd brimmed with sparkling tears

She clings to me as I walk byWantingmetotakeawayherfears

I push her back and walk awayNo guilt within my mind

ThenIturntolookbackatherButtomysurpriseshe’snottheretofind

ThishappenseverynighttomeEvery night within my dreams

ThelittlegirlintheyellowraincoatEvery night she beckons to me

It pains me to see this little girl hurtBut what am I supposed to do

It frightens me when she disappearsMaybe tonight I will disappear too

Again I fall asleep and the little girl appearsIn her yellow raincoat she clings to meThistimeIaskher,“Whoareyou?”Thenshewhispers,“Can’tyousee?”Thislittlegirlintheyellowraincoat

Standing, crying before me in my dreamWhispersintomyearsoftly

Thatsheismysoul,lostinsideofme

51

ToyTonyaArsenault

Tossedaround,flungonthebedKickedonthefloor,steponmyhead

Broken arms and shaved off earsThisishowit’sbeenforyearsPut in boxes, forgotten about

Once loved, now without thoughtOncewithoutsadness,nowwithoutjoy

I realize now; all I am is a toy

Drawing submitted by James Garrett

52


My American HeroTonyaArsenault

Thiswarhasgoneonwaytoolonghurting country and family in turn.WithouthimitalljustfeelswrongMy heart yearns for his safe return.

BlockingoutthenewsstoriesonT.V.ofthetroopsfightingwithmyhusbandinIraq.

Fightingbackthingsunbearabletoseethe strength to keep going, I falter, almost lack.

I have to be strong for our children, for Him.Forwhathe’sgoingthroughistentimesworse.

Putting him through this feels like a sinbut for the American Hero, that is the curse.

On the radio are stories of men killed, people dying.New car bombs and blood baths every day.

I thank God to talk to my husband, both of us crying,saying when things are right, he’ll come home to stay.

Tillthenkeeponhoping,wishingandpraying…kiss and tuck in his babies good-night

keep on saying those I love yous to him that I’m sayingandmyAmericanHerowillkeeponfightingthegoodfight.

53

Learn from Your ChildrenTonyaArsenault

Listen to your childrenTotheirwordsfromthestartTheyhavethingstosaytoyou

Even though it may break your heart

TheysayhowgreatyouareWhentheyareveryyoung

TheytellyouhowmuchtheyloveyouBut also when you’re not much fun

As your children get olderTheytelltruthsyou’drathernotknowIt kills you inside, you try to deny itYougetmadbutdon’tletitshow

TheytellyouthatyouyelltoomuchAnd you treat them so unfair

TheygetafraidwhenyouslamdoorsAnd they feel like you don’t care

TheysayyouspendwaytoomuchtimeDoing laundry, and washing dishes

WhenyoushouldbespendingalittlemorePlayinggamesandfulfillingwishes

Of course they are still kidsAnd they have little kid minds

And things will come out of those sweet mouthsThataretwisted,deceitfullittlelies

But listen with your heartTotheunderlyingtruthinwhattheysay

Weadultsdon’talwayshearwhatweshouldBut with words our kids have a special way

TheyremindusofwhatisimportantAnd what it is we should forget

I have learned so much from my childrenAnd I have so much left to learn yet

54

Nighttime ConfessionsTonyaArsenault

I confess, I’m afraid, I’ve seen him before.That’swhyIamscaredtosleepbythedoor.Faceofaclown,andthelegsofagoat,I fear he’ll come out and slash my throat.ShouldIsleepwithanightlightwhenI’malone?Hiding in there, he knows there’s no one else home.Longthinfingerscanslipthroughjustacrack.I’ve seen him before, I know he’ll come back.He scares me, I’ll admit it; he is an awful sight.I make sure the closet door is shut closed every night.Istarttofallasleep,butthen…whatwasthat?I hear something scratching on the door… we don’t have a cat.Theevilclownedfacehascomebacktogetme.But it’s dark in here and I fear I can’t see.I gather up all the courage from my weary stores,Jump out of bed and use something heavy to block the door.Iflybackintobed;covermyheadsilentlyasIweepListening closely for noises as I try not to fall asleep.My eyes are puffy and bloodshot as I see the sun rise. Another night down, I think to myself, glad I survivedFromthisclown-likemonsterinmycloset-land.Yes,Iconfess;I’veseenhim,Ibelieveinhim,

He’s the Boogeyman…..

55

Stop and Smell the Roses:An Elegy for Rosemary

TonyaArsenault

I have heard that the saying goesthe sweetest smell is of the Rose

though I had never paid it much mindIhavebeentoldIamnottheflowerykindBut I had a Rose that was great to behold

I had a beautiful Rose of my very ownshe was thin and always seemed wind blown

andjusttoshowmyRosehowmuchshewaslovedI named one of my children a little Rose bud

for my Rose looked out for me since I started to grow

ThesignsoflonglostyouthmyRosecouldnotmaskmy Rose petals were no longer red as in the past

but had become faded and gray with ageand those years would be re-counted, retold by stagelisteningtotalesoftheRosewasmyjoyoustask

ToknowmoreaboutmyspecialRoseIyearnedthe longer I listened, the more I learned

the more I learned, the more and more I lovedbut the longer we talked the longer life seemed to shoveIwasenjoyingmyRosebutIhadnotyetdeservedher

Bentfingersforleavesfeltsoftuponmyfacethelifeofaflowergoesattoofastapace

and when its pain is taken feels like removed thornswhen my Rose at last was being cut, I heard the music of angels’ hornsthough I cannot water my Rose with this water, the tears you can trace

I pick up her blanket, breathe her in through my nosehold her deep in my soul, and smell that sweet Rose.

for once in my life I believe the saying and for the rest of my life I will continue my praying

thanking God for my old one and watching grow my young Rose

56

Sweet ReleaseTonyaArsenault

A little tickleA little tease

I’m still waitingCome on… pleaseIt starts to comeAnd then it stops

I draw in my breath…Myjawdrops

Here it comes again…And then it goesI want it to comeI know it shows

WhenitfinallycomesIt will fully shake meIt will feel so goodI will feel so free…

It will feel so great to let goI can’t wait for that sweet release

ThetimehasfinallycomeI think I’m about to sneeze

57

Teardrop RainTonyaArsenault

WhathaveIbecome?An image of invisibilityI have become somethingI never wanted to be

ToomanyfearstocountAnd childhood memoriesHave made up my illusionOf the world surrounding me

DeepconflictingemotionsLike never-ending tidesMake up the darkness In the prison where I hide

SelfinflictedpainAnd constant agonySeem to hide the truthThepersoninsideofme

Homemade monstersOf my own nightmaresTheyalwaysseemehidingTheonlyoneswhoknowI’mthere

Please save me from myselfStop the constant ruinIneedtofinallydealwithWhatIhavebeenthrough

I am going crazyDying with the painDrowning in the poolOf my teardrop rain

58

Sometimes I CryTommyStamey

I have these feelings I keep locked deep inside that are at times hard to hide,these emotions cause a commotion inside my head and my heart,I can’t let them show for the fear they may tear my world apart,I keep them under lock and key so that no one else can see,these emotions, my own personal agony,sometimes I cry, and these are the reasons why,because deep inside my heart it’s bleeding,there’s something missing that I’m needing,sometimes I cry, when I’m sitting all alone,cause it chills me to the bone, that you’re never coming home,that you’ll never call me on the phone,sometimes I cry, because you’re on my mind,allnightanddayandIcan’tfindawaytomakethesememoriesgoaway,sometimes I cry, because I have to live like this,deep down inside it’s really you that I miss,ThesetearsthatIcry,theyfalltohelpmemakeitthroughitall,they wash away the pain and make me whole again,justuntilIhearyournameorthinkaboutneverseeingyourfaceagain,sometimes I cry, because things don’t go my way,when my life it goes astray,when I feel like I can’t go on another day,sometimes I cry, because I’m sick and tired of waiting,for something or someone to take up this time that it seems I’m wasting,sometimes I cry, because it seems that god, he’s hesitating,tofulfillthesedreamsthatI’vebeendreaming,sometimes I cry, because deep down inside I feel like screaming,I’m getting tired of reaching for something that seems so misleading,ThesetearsthatIcry,theyhelptoeasethepaininside,they help me to release these feelings that I hide from day to day within this foolish pride,sometimes I cry, because I’m angry about this hand that I’ve been dealt,I wish I’d never had to feel these feelings that I’ve felt,they make my soul feel like it’s starting to melt,sometimes I cry, because it feels so good to let it all out,to take a few minutes to kick and scream and shout,to release the tension of these doubts,sometimes I cry, because I don’t know what this life is all about,attimesitseemssohardtofigureout,ThesetearsthatIcry,theyaremyrelease,they give me a moment to stop and breathe,sometimesIcry,becauseitjusthurtsdeepinside,these feelings that I have are so hard to hide,sometimes I cry.

59

Too Many Yesterdays and Not Enough TomorrowsTommyStamey

Well,Itookitallforgranted,thingsjustdidn’tgohowweplannedit,I still don’t understand why this had to happen,There’snomoreyou,there’sonlyme,WhenIlookbackallIseearethesefadingmemoriesofwhatusedtobe,things were supposed to be better, better than the way things are here today, if only things could’ve gone a different way,I wish there were some magic words that I could say,to make this all go away, my senses are numbed,


60

my soul’s left hollowed,there’s too many yesterdays and not enough tomorrows,the time’s been spent there’s none left to borrow,all that’s left is this heart-ache and sorrow,the bits and pieces that were left behind,no one sees the images that play inside my mind,with no fast forward or rewind,ahauntingfilmfilledwithmurder,misery,andpain,I’ll never forget the face, the place, or the namewherethesethingshappenedonthatSaturday,October28th,I’m the only one left, with no one to blamethis life is different,it can never be the same,my senses are numbed,my soul’s left hollowed,there’s too many yesterdays and not enough tomorrows,the time’s been spent there’s none left to borrow,all that’s left is this heart-ache and sorrow,Thebulletsburnedandbrokemybones,they left me here feeling empty and all alone,with no reason, cause, or purpose,didwereallydeservethis?I’m sorry that I missed your funeral service,no last words,no long good-byes,I woke up one week later paralyzed,to my surprise,I thought you had made it,I didn’t know that you had died,I couldn’t even cry,Thedoctorskeptmesodopedup,that no one knew that all the while I was dying inside, my senses were numbed,my soul was left hollow,there’s too many yesterdays and not enough tomorrows,the time was spent there was none left to borrow,there was nothing left but this heart-ache and sorrow.There’stoomanyyesterdaysandnotenoughtomorrows.

61

This ThingTommyStamey

Howdidthisthinggetthisfar?Idon’tevenknowwhereweare!I’velosttrack,who’sbeenkeepingscore?Ican’ttakethisanymore!I’m tired of hearing these slamming doors,I’m sick of all the screaming and this dream I’ve been dreaming, that’s not so sweet,Whydidweandthistimehavetomeet?Fallingoffthedeependinchesfromdrowning,I’m lost and I’m found always turning around,I’m listening but there’s no sound,(ThisThing........!ThisThing........!)Howdidthisthinggetthisfar?Idon’tevenknowwhereweare!Soclosetoflyingoffthehandle!Sickofburningbothendsofthiscandle!I’mlosingmygrip;myfingersarestartingtoslip!(ThisThing........!ThisThing........!)Maybejustonemoresipofthisalcoholwillmakeitallgoawayforjustonemoreday,Thesewordssohardtosay,I’ve been biting my tongue,Thissituationismakingmenumb,I’mtiredoffightingmyself,wishingIwassomeoneelse,Somewhere else, another time, another place,Another person, a different face, instead of here taking up this space,Howdidthisthinggetthisfar?Idon’tevenknowwhereweare!Soclosetoflyingoffthehandle!Sickofburningbothendsofthiscandle!I’mlosingmygrip;myfingersarestartingtoslip!(ThisThing........!ThisThing........!)Theserhymeswithoutreasons,Theneverendingseasons,Spending my time watching my money,Icanhearthelaughter,butnothing’sfunny!Whateverhappenedtomy“HappilyEverAfter?!”It’s time to put this book back on the shelf,Thisstory’sover,ithasreacheditsconclusion,It’s time to end this illusion and self made confusion,Howdidthisthinggetthisfar?Idon’tcarewhereyouare!Soclosetoflyingoffthehandle!Sickofburningbothendsofthiscandle!I’mlosingmygrip;myfingersarestartingtoslip!(ThisThing........!ThisThing........!)(ThisThing........!ThisThing........!)

62

The Butterfly EffectTommyStamey

Abutterflyfloatsloftyunawarethatitseffectshavebegun,Asitfluttersitswingssoftly,Theeffectstheycreatecannotbeundone,Thewindpicksupslowlygentlyblowing,Theleavesonthetreesrustleandstir,Thebranchesstartbowing,Yetstillthebutterflystaysgentlyaloftandremainsunknowing,Theseas,lakes,andoceanstheybegintoanger,Theshipsthatsailonthemareunawareoftheimpendingdanger,Thewavestheyswellasiftheyhadtheirownstorytotell,Civilizations have no realizations of the coming hell, Theearthfeelsthisrageandthevolcanoestheyrumble,the ground shakes violently as the buildings they crumble,yetstillthebutterflystaysgentlyaloftandremainsunknowing.

63

CrushTommyStamey

There’sagirlthatIknowIcanseeheralmosteveryday,the way she catches my eye doesn’t leave my mouth with much to say,my mind goes blank, my tongue gets tied,her image dances in my eyes while all the while, her pretty smile is accentuating her style,coulditbe,thatit’sjustme,wishing that she could be, the missing piece,that makes my life complete,I think I’ve got a crush, but I’m in no rush to let her know,should I move in fast or should I take it slow,to let her know, I love the way that she glows, tell her she’s pretty and how I wish that her heart belonged to me,How I see her in my future and all my dreams,I know it’s only fantasy,ButIcanjustimaginehowgreatitwouldbe,Ifitwerejustherandme,I think I’ve got a crush, She’s so out of my league,How I wish I could speak when she approaches me,But I can’t talk and only smile,InmymindIknowshe’sjustmystyle,She’s got a rock hard body,I wonder if she knows she’s a hottie,My mind tells me that I need her,My arms really want to squeeze her,I think I’ve got a crush, but I’m in no rush to let her know,should I move in fast or should I take it slow,to let her know, I love the way that she glows, tell her she’s pretty and how I wish that her heart belonged to me,How I see her in my future and all my dreams,I know it’s only fantasy,ButIcanjustimaginehowgreatitwouldbe,Ifitwerejustherandme,I think I’ve got a crush.

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Guilt RiddenTommyStamey

Demons haunting, taunting, reminding, unbinding the ties, Blinding memories, untold truths coming out as lies,Regrets, doubts, worries, fears, debts left unpaid,Crooked paths left unpaved,An innocent life left unsaved,Abatoftheeye,aflickofthewrist,An un-understandable gist,Mixed emotion, a battle lost in confusion, a disagreeable illusion,Illicitconflictsstirredandshakenblendedintoanundrinkabledrink,A vertigo spiral spinning in a bottomless sink,A sweet caress with misguided intentions,Wordsandthoughtsunmentionedlefttightlywoundinsuspendedtensions,A breathless kiss, a ticking clock, moments missed,Forgottenmisleadingill-gottengains,A railroad spike driven deep into the brain,A bleeding heart bound by barbed wire,Eyes that tire never sleeping always weeping,Tearscrieddriedbyarelentlesssweeping,Lips locked tightly by the secrets they’re keeping,Feetthatdancegingerlyforfearoffalling,Ears that listen attentively deaf to who’s calling,Balance lost a glamorous descent a broken body twisted and bent,Jaggedshardscutthroughfleshsotender,Blood bled willingly in a captivating surrender,Misunderstood meanings encrypted in stone,an arctic breeze that chills to the bone only to freeze the arms reaching for someone hold,Nerve endings numbed disconnected and old,Viralinfectionsuncuredantibioticsunknown,De-stigmatized and desolate unaware all alone, Situations screeching to a halt,ThemeaningoflifesealedwithinanopenlessvaultShame hidden, sympathy ungiven, guilt ridden.

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Just One LieTommyStamey

Just one lie, Days go by,Misleading insecurities, changing the view of what she meant to me,Future’schanged,twolivesrearranged,Whatwasmeanttobe,No longer a destiny,Broken hearts, drifting apart,Tearscried,inmomentsthatdied,Just one lie, Months go by,Trappedinmisery,Exposed for the world to see,Drunken stupor lived in, Heart ache and regret hidden,A marriage of guilt, the wall was built,Divorced for truths, No longer amused,Just one lie,Yearsgoby,A realized reality, a no longer hidden epiphany,His soul is yearning, too late the bridge is no longer burning,Piles of ash, He’s always thinking of the past,Memories of her a constant reminder, Hismistakehislovecannolongerfindher,Just one lie, His life goes by,He still sits at home all alone and cries,Wonderingwhy,Thewordspassedthroughhislips,Wishingthathewouldhaveneverletthemslip,Ashetoldjustonelie.

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I Can’t Be Your HeroTommyStamey

In a moment that I could not foresee,I was weakened and knocked to my kneesAll alone and helpless it was only methe walls closed in and I could not breathe,TheskiesdarkenedandIcouldnotsee,I screamed so loud that no one could hear me,My strength was drained,My body put into excruciating pain,In was in that moment that I knew,Everything we had was through,I knew that I could no longer hold and protect you,No, I can’t be your hero anymore,I’ve fallen from your grace, Thesmilewipedfrommyface,My cape is torn and tattered,Like all the things that mattered,Thedreamsthatwesharedleftbrokenandshattered,No, I can’t be your hero anymore,Thesunnolongershinesontheworldthatusedtobemine,It’s a cold dark lonely place,Nothing’s left but these memories of your face,No, I can’t be your hero anymore,I was down and out for the count,My world was spinning round and round,So fast that I could not see,ThatIturnedmybackonwhatwassocherishedbyme,Forgivenesslost,Expensive moments ticked away,Thatcosttoomuchformetopay,Nothing left for me to say,I lost my grip as I watched our world slip away,I was broken and I knew that I could no longer hold and protect you,No, I can’t be your hero anymore,I’ve fallen from your grace, Thesmilewipedfrommyface,My cape is torn and tattered,Like all the things that used to matter,Thedreamsthatwesharedleftbrokenandshattered,No, I can’t be your hero anymore,Thesunnolongershinesontheworldthatusedtobemine,It’s a cold dark lonely place,Nothings left but these memories of your face,

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No, I can’t be your hero anymore,Therearethesecolddarkeyesthatstare,Searching only to compare,Withwhatisnowandwhatusedtobe,Theyonlydaretoseemeun-brokenandun-bent,Un-twisted and un-spent,Thefiresextinguishedandthesmokebeginningtovent,Theyonlyseewhatusedtobe,Living deep inside of me,Lost in an un-ending dream,Withacontinuingtheme,I’m broken and I can no longer hold and protect you,No, I can’t be your hero anymore,Thesunnolongershinesontheworldthatusedtobemine,It’s a cold dark lonely place,Nothing’s left but these memories of your face,No, I can’t be your hero anymore.

Photo of James Tivis

68Photo submitted by Christian Downes

SonnetTylerWickman

So many things to doWritingpapersanddoingmathAnd sometimes some reading too,Even when I’m in the bath.

If only I had one night offTodosomethingsbesidesschoolThatincludessometennisandgolfBut I guess the work keeps me from being a fool.

TiredofallthepressureandtheburdensIt takes a toll on a college studentI’dratherjusttakeanicetriptoSwedenSomaybeI’lljustkeeptomyselfandbeprudent.

School is something that everyone needsSo that way you don’t end up on the street being a dweeb.

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Gypsy SkirtsSharon DePierro

Swirling, Spinning, toAnd fro, Riots of ColorKissingCalvesandToes

Photo submitted by Tonya Arsenault

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Silent BondSharon DePierro

Long ago, across a bar,Imagineered for Second Souls.TheSparkalitthatspawnedaStar,Unknown, as we Danced among our Roles.

Masks on, Masks off, it mattered not.Timecame,Timewent,On tattered ear and comfort sought,TrueSoulswereLent.

Thebarisgone,theyearsranpast,Firstliveshaverunaground.Yetyouandme,restinginStarsoVast,KnowonlytheHearthasfound…

Sometimes the Deepest Bond lies in,TheonethatwentUnspoken.

Photo submitted by Aimee Morris

71Photo submitted by Marchelle Wear

Lone StalkSharon DePierro

Caught betwixt rough, red bricks,Hard angled, straight and narrow,And the taste of almost mossy dampness,Colliding with air ping-pongin’.

Jingling keys pass right by,Withoutasecondthought,As silent as their sneakers,Upon the slick black-top.

Only the whoosh of wind,Oristhattheengine’sroar?Toruffledroopofyellowedleaf,Caught between tree trunk and door.

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SleepChris Bennett

TheSunpassesintoitsalcoveForitsnightlyrestThemoonwithprideandbeamhurlsTheresidueoflightattheworldWesleep.Wedonotcareforthemoon,WhotiresoutbutwithconstantVigilancegivesusthelightWeneveruse.


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Hour GlassChris Bennett

TimeiseveralludingtoManIn a very causal way, it, pointsWithacrookhandandbotchedfaceWithasmirkandawink,Man is left behind.

Photo submitted by Barrett Kibble

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UntitledChris Bennett

Wasn’tthatjustbeautiful? I try to get a --Themostbeautifulpoem! I reach for somethi --Mr. Poet was insinuating that the human condition, I understan -- Is a hopeless, confounding, pernicious little disease that shouldbeavoidedliketheplagueitself!PLEASEHEL–


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Suicide SpotterSierraWhite

Made my Lucky Charms with bleachBlew up balloons for a funeral at threeWatchedmysisterdieofyellowfeverFelttheworldsuffocatesecondhandinsmoke.

Cigarettes and cinnamon rolls for lunchDrewagirl’ssketchincrimsonatfivefifteenLace dress riddling skin with ten hundred paper cuts And a glance at redemption that wasn’t clean.

Black gossip about cries for attentionRed wrists white-out my soul around seven; Some voices are too quiet for recognition, Some eyes are too catarized to see.

Suicide spotter, little bird peeping on the window sill Sing a symphony for waxed beauty And remember that I couldn’t cage you still.Remember that I tried, that I tried, that I tried.

But they didn’t believe me.Oh, no, they didn’t believe-

Photo submitted byMarchelle Wear

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Autistic Student at Cleveland StateJamesLongEagleKilgore

August29th,2006,IwasacceptedandenrolledtoClevelandStateCommunityCollege.Abouttwoweeksbeforeschoolstarted,TNVocationalRehabwantedmetoacceptthefactthatIshouldjustbehappytowraphamburgers;but,myDadtoldthem“NO”andhedidnotacceptthefact.Sotheyremovedmefromtheirrolls.WewenttoClevelandStateCommunityCollege.WelocatedtheaccesscentertospeaktoMs.AmyL.Derrick.Ms.Derrick is advisor for disabilities support services for the college. Ms. Derrick helpedenrolledmeintwoclassesforthefirstsemesterin2006.

IstartedintheFederalWorkStudyprogramin2008underDr.GayleL.Garner.Afterfifteenyearsofhardwork,teachingthestudentshowtospeakinapositive manner. Ms. Garner is retiring to pursue new interest. She has been suchagreathelptomeinthenewspaper(TheCherokeeSignal)forthreeyears.

Dr. Gayle L. Garner. Dr. Garner really helped me whenever I got problems on putting in articles for the Cherokee Signal. I got involved with the Cherokee SignalintheSpringSemesterof2007.IhavebeenwriterandreporterforthreeyearsandVicePresidentoftheCherokeeSignalClubfortwoyearsfrom2008to2010.Thispastacademicyear2009-2010,IwasnamedtheCherokeeSignalaward winner at awards night in the Johnson Building at the auditorium. She hasbeenawonderfulteacherandgreatinstructor.Mrs.GarnerwillbedefinitelymissedbyallofthestudentsatClevelandState.WeareveryproudofDr.Gayle L. Garner, who is not only a great teacher, but also a friend to us all.

Ms.KarenWyrick.ShehasstartedmeinBasicMath,ElementaryAlgebraand Intermediate Algebra until I started College Algebra on the computer for the firsttimeever.ItwasKatieHines’sideatohaveaMathlabintheadministrationbuildingonthesecondfloor.FormerchairmanoftheMathdepartmentwasDr.John Squires, who really take time to go over the tests that I make mistakes on and trytohelpmeimproveontest.Mrs.WyricktakestimetohelpmewheneverIhave problems on my homework. She is really an awesome teacher.

Mrs.KellyOrmsby.Mrs.Ormsbyhashelpedmegetthroughbasicwritinginthefallsemesterof2006andalsoDevelopmentalWritingintheSpringSemester2010.Mrs.OrmsbyhasreallypicksupsomeslackbylettingmebringingtherecorderanduseittostudysincetheSpringSemesterof2007.Inthefirsthalfofwriting, my essay average and quiz average wasn’t very good at all. But, in the second half of writing, I paid attention to my teacher and write the notes down on a piece of a notebook paper so I did not forget.

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Blessed DebtJeffYoung

OhKing,myheartlongsformuchmorethannormal.I am the untamable wolf kept from the wild,Put amongst dogs and expected to be formal.Didyouintendformetositrestlesslylikeachild?Takeawaymystatusandremovemypossession.Thesethingsmeannothingwhenmyspiritisbound.I leave them behind; you are my obsession.I was broken and shunned, you lifted me from the ground.Become my sole reliance.TeachmeyourrelentlessloveandastoundingstrengthWhenunjustauthorityrisesup,givemeyourcompletedefiance.Permit me the unwavering will to press on to any length.

Foremost,admonishmetoneverforgetI am yours eternally and I owe a blessed debt.

78Photo submitted by Tonya Arsenault

Beach at DuskJeffYoung

Sloshy, wet, sand between my toesAnd chilling translucent salt water drowns my feet.Beach, you will never recognize how my affection for you growsOrhowenjoyingyouatduskisblissfulandsweet.Colorfully painted seashells are speckled across your grainy face.Each steps sinks below the sand, leaving a print.Pelicans glide above the water with a pleasant graceAnd I’m amused seeing violet crabs move across the sand in a sprint.Violentwaveschargesthelandinagloriousroar.Pinks, reds, and oranges dash across the skyAnd sand turns to gold on the shore.Thesunkissesthehorizonwithitslastgoodbye.

ThismomentisrareandsublimeWishing,forthismoment,tobelockedintime.

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In Memory of a FriendAnthony Bowers

Many days have gone by.Many nights have passed.It’s sadness like this, you realize life doesn’t last.

I remember us swimming.Thesundiddie,andquicklyithidbehindthetrees.Wejumpedoutofthewater,almosthearingtheshakingofourknees.

Youwerealwaysgoofy,butagoodfriendthough.It’sjustsotough,sometimestoletgo.

Weusedtogoswim,upatthelake.Yet,neveragain,becauseofonemistake.

Youhadthemunchies,sotheysay.Yougotinyourcar,andthendroveaway.

I wish you were not driving drunk or high.Forthissimplemistake,nobodyspokeafinalgoodbye.

It’s not easy losing a good friend.Because of this, it takes time, time for the heart to mend.

I remember the last time I said hello, and even hi.Yet,itwasatyourfuneral,mylastgoodbye.

Photo submited by Ross Spurgeon79

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The Purpose of SilenceDouglas Parris

Thedefinitionofsilenceistherelativeortotallackofaudiblesound.Thewordsilencemayalsorefertoanyabsenceofcommunication,eveninmedia other than speech. Silence in speech can be the result of hesitation, stutters, self-correction, or the deliberate slowing of speech for the purpose ofclarificationorprocessingofideas.Accordingtotheculture,silencecanbeinterpretedaspositiveornegative.Foranexample,inchurchtherecanbeamomentofreflectionwhileothertimessilencecanbeaformofobjectionorrejectionofanideaorwhatisbeingdiscussedortaught.Placingtheindexfingeroverclosedlipsisthemostwidelyrecognizedgestureofsilence.InWesterncultures,silencecanmeananger,hostility,disinterest,oranynumberofemotions;becauseofthis,onesidewillusuallytrytofillsilencewithsmalltalk.TheWesternApachesusesilenceduringtimesofuncertaintyandanger.In music, silence is simply termed as a rest. In debate, silence can be both offensive and effective. In law, we have a right to silence. In spirituality, silence can be used as worship and as part of listening for the inner voice. Usually when a client is silent, an event or memory is triggered that they are ashamed ofordonotfeelcomfortabletalkingabout.Manytheyjustdonotunderstandwhat you are saying or do not know how to response. If I can help to identify why there is silence, then many we can discuss it. Silence can be fear or illness; italsocouldbeshame.Thereisalwaysapurposeforsilence.

Photo submited by Annika Endo

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Ocean TiffanyTate

I can taste the warm, salty breeze.I can feel the sand between my feet.I hear the waves crashing on the shore.I will remember this forevermore.Thisplaceismyhomeawayfromhome.ThebeachiswhereIbelong.


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SoonC. Michael Downes, Aaron Quinn,

andEszterKovacs

Theirperfectlifecametoashatteringhalt.Evennow,herlipstrembledatthehorrificmemory.Formonthsafterthecrash,shehadtofighttheguiltofliving, while her son did not. She battled the severe depression that threatened her very sanity, and alienated her husband, as she slowly came to the realization thatherbabywasgone.Hertherapisthadsuggestedthatshejoinanonlinechatgroup to talk to other people that had gone through the same tragic experience, to help her grieve. It was there, that she had met a woman who suggested a procedure that could bring her old life back-a suggestion that had shocked her whenshefirstheardit.Atfirst,shehadrejectedtheverythoughtofsuchathing.But then, as time passed, and as her grief haunted her more deeply, she became desperate to return to a time when she had not lost control of her life.

Whenshesuggestedtheprocesstoherhusband,hewouldn’tevenconsiderit.“You’renottheonlyonewholostason.Ididtoo,andImisshimjustasmuch as you. But hunny…we have to come to terms with the fact that he’s not comingback.Nothingwillchangethat.”

Thinkingthatherhusbandhadbeenright,shetriedtosurrendertothatthought. But the thought wouldn’t leave her mind. It began to plague her every wakingmoment.Therewereboutsofinsomnia,anddepthsofconstantsleep.Yetwhenshewoke,hersonwasalwaysthere.

She wasn’t personally religious, but she was raised in a strict Catholic family. She knew right away the priest from her old parish would be against it. Butwasheright?Wasitmorallywrongtopreservetheirlivesinthisway,withthisprocess?Thereisnospecificversecondoningtheact-itneverevenmentionsthe word. It wasn’t even against the law…well, at least in some countries. But didthatmeanthatitwaswrong?SurelyGodwouldunderstandthemother’sdesperatewish.TherewasastoryaboutalostsonintheBible,wasn’tthere?Isn’titbasicallythesamething?SurelyGodwouldn’tbegrudgeherfortryingtoregain the perfect life she once had. She glanced at her bulging stomach, then at her husband. He was still staring at the ceiling, then the door. He sighed. She turned a stare to him, waiting for him to say anything. She felt so tired. She huffedandlookedupattheceilingvent.Whycouldn’theseethingsherway?She had tried to see his point of view, but every single time, she knew that hers wasbetter.Didn’theunderstandthatshewasdoingthisforbothofthem?Tohelperasethepainthathadrackedtheirhearts?Shelookedbackathim.Whywouldn’thelookather,understandherlikeheusedto?

Now here she lay, many months having passed, months of constant arguing with her husband about the child she now carries-with the ongoing war in her mind,continuous.Achildisontheway.Wasshereallydoingtherightthing?People say that the pain of a lost child never leaves the heart, but time softens the blow. Now she had a choice. She couldn’t imagine that ever happening to her again. Ever.

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Beneath the examination gown, she rubbed the area on her stomach, wantingitalltobeover.Soon,Soon!Shethought.Herhusbandwillcomearound. Once he fully understood her vision, her dream for the two of them, it would become his too, and he would embrace it with open arms. Soon. She thought again, turning to look at her husband.

Thewaitingroomlayheavy,pressedagainsthiseyes.Hiswifelaystillonherback.Theirfuturerestedominouslyontheheavyturnofadoorhandle.Anoverwhelmingdreadcontinuedtocreepoutfromhisinner-self.Theyhadat least discussed this decision with each other at great length; long nights spent respectively hunched at the computer, medical books-copious amounts of research done. Even the preacher had been consulted, chiming in with his shock, and scolding disapproval. None of it made this moment any more bearable. In the deepest recesses of his heart, he wanted her to make this decision, since at the end of this, it would be she who had to share the physical burden and responsibility. He wanted her to delineate her own bodily limits, but at this point she was not interested in limitations. Even so, he longed to tell her-she, this part of him-that he did not wish to go through with this. Perhaps it was toolatetoexpressit.Wearehere.Waiting.Maybehisopinionhadlittleweightanylonger.Wearealreadyhere.Nevertheless,heburnedtoscreamout,No!-Anything to quell the ache of this. He began to reminisce over the ultra-sound. If things were different, he knew the glossy vignette would have been more than this, more than a child; an adult, a man with dreams that would ultimately surrender to reality, never the same-yet always…his son.

Hesatinsilence,waiting.Theairoftheexaminationroomwrappedaround his wrists and neck, anywhere his skin was bare-a much darker chill, thanmedicinalcold-sterility.Heturnedhisheadslowlytowardher.Theair,sosharp and electric, stung his eyes. Slowly, they glazed-he feared she’d think him weeping. She stared fervently upward, at the dull gray vent, shifted slightly as the examination table paper crackled hard and loud against the stillness of the room. Washesoinnocentinthis,sittingsilentinthefaceofdestruction?Whyopposethecreationofauniquebeing-flawed,andillequippedyetanexceptionallydistinctindividual?Hedrewinaslow,coldbreath,andlookedup.Theceilingventseemed audible in its exhale, that in the entirety of this room, it was the only thing with purpose, volition, no matter how cold its will. His mind lapsed back to her weddingdress,conjuringacomparisontothewhiteoftheroomthatenvelopedthemnow.Thepurityofthewhitesdeviated;hewatchedbeautybecomesterility.He had allocated a whole section of his memory solely for the sanctity of what that dress symbolized. It had so beautifully adorned their night of matrimony, but now that color quickly faded into the walls of the room.

Devoid of strength, his chest collapsed, in a shivering exhale, a sigh he did not want released. His wife looked at him, exasperated, tired. Her stare was crushing. Her own battle had been so readily apparent, as if the war within her constantly spilled from her lips, eyes, and tumultuous expressions that so easily made his heart tremble. He wanted to hold her, longed to give his brave wife some kind of support, but for a moment he perceived in her a subtle liveliness

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that momentarily mocked his beleaguered mind. A schism of rational thought was instantly raised, a wall he had no skill to traverse. Squishing footsteps approachedthedoorandinsecondspassed,takingthefortifiedremainderofhispride with them. His wife sighed. He worried about that momentary emotional detachment from his wife’s well being, and his defensive instinct. But what ofallhelearnedofmortality?-Itwouldsoonbecomeamerry-go-roundforalltheWorld’schildren.Heabhorredthethoughtofsuchapossibility.Hereheremained.Theirpseudo-mutualdecisionalienatedhimfromhiswife,andall their family had shared in years that passed so innocently, so that only he remained. Growing colder, hardened and more alone, he held the ghost of his son in a heart that slowly broke, with the turning of the door handle, and the doctor’s footsteps into the room.

“Myfriends-thankyouforyourpatience.First,yourtestresultsarepositive.That’sgreatnews.Wehavecomealong,longwayfromvegetablesandsheep.Justthink,nearlyayearagoyoutwoweresittinginmyoffice,overcomewithgrieffromtheaccident,andthelossofyourpreciousson.Wehavemadestridesinreturningthatlostjoytoyourlife.Futuregenerationswilllook back at this moment and your decision, as the pioneering endeavor that resurrectslostchildren.Thesciencecommunitymournedwithyouandnowwearecelebratingwithyou.Youhavemadeyourselvesheroicexamplesinaworld-fearful of change. Never again will anyone look at cloning as an irrational pursuit. More importantly, very soon, you two will have your son back again, healthy,happy…thewayitshouldhavebeen.”

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Another Kind of MotherAnonymous

ThismothercansmileJust like any other

She takes pride in her clanShe loves like no other

Her loyalty is like steelSheisafierceprotectorShe knows how to feel

One cannot help but respect her

ThereisjoyinhereyesShe is steady in her devotion

Her expression never liesPicture of motherhood perfection

Photo submitted by Allen Bouchard

Cleveland State Community College ENGLISH DEPARTMENT · 2017. 3. 14. · Not Enough Tomorrows ........

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Transcript of Cleveland State Community College ENGLISH DEPARTMENT · 2017. 3. 14. · Not Enough Tomorrows ........