Aging Gracefully
Aging Gracefully
by Debbie Hendryx
Please set me free from this God forsaken prison
that makes my nightmares like child’s play.
Open those cellulite doors that suffocate me
and bar my escape to the life I once knew.
The cracks that spiderweb down the wall
continue in my mirror—my face
each one earned like a soldier’s badge of honor—
at a high price.
The silver dances as it weaves in and out
between the strands of gold.
The hourglass morphs into a pear,
a cylinder and finally a ball.
The supports once strong have begun to warp and weaken
as they corrode into a raging fire
that consumes every joint
that still is capable of movement.
The pain of the day is only forgotten—
erased by my escape in the night
when for just a short flash
youth and beauty are again mine.
The Communist
The Communist
by Taylor Henley
A communist, a nihilist and an aging punk rock asshole
All walk in to a bar
She warns everyone up front
WE ARE NOT GOING TO TALK ABOUT SOCRATES TONYTE
It doesn't come up anyway
No one talks and all of them go to bed early.
Our Attempt
Our Attempt
Para mi amigo, Mucio
by Sloan Davis
“I went off, my fists in my torn pockets;
My coat too was becoming ideal” – Arthur Rimbaud.
When I joined you
in Oaxaca
I ran away from what
I thought was drudgery—
suburbia
a woman who wanted
to settle down
waiting tables
rent
a six-month-old son with pale blue eyes
You and I
we lived above a cement garage
ate camarones con frijoles
y tortillas
drank cervezas
con limón
I learned a little Spanish
pero no mucho
We met two Austrian women
who spoke four languages
Climbed foothills
de la Sierra Madre del Sur
stayed up all night
bebiendo tequila
We looked down on rooftops
sang over crosses of small churches
a sea of adobe
Our voices cracked
the rising sun
In Mitla
the city of the dead
I haggled a tough-skinned woman
calloused fingers and grey eyes
pagué doce pesos
and had me an Aztec shirt
We took pictures
amongst ruins
your long, black hair
flowed like silk lava
smooth over the shoulder
whoever stole that camera
enjoyed those photos
But Mucio
I could not stay
the pull home
that little boy
his mother
with the same eyes
grew inside me like blue agave
I left you under the border
surrounded by Latin jazz
Mescal
I hear you’re in Chiapas now
a dangerous, rebellious land
your own rebellion
working with stones
shaping jewels, sewing necklaces
Have you lost your pretentiousness yet?
You were trying so hard
but please
save a little
Been reading Rimbaud—
remember our attempt
at the bohemian
up in Albany
kicked out of bars
our attempt
to understand women
our attempt
to write, draw, paint
drinking
smoking
singing?
We ended up
only dreaming
just dreams
pero muchacho
they were great dreams
And Rimbaud, he would have understood
Lungs screaming on Madison Avenue—
I walked under the sky, Muse! and I was your vassal;
Oh! Oh! what brilliant loves I dreamed of!
Mucio
do your ears burn?
Mucio
centinela de Puebla
dream
dream hermano
sueña
Waiting
Waiting
by Niamh McNally
‘It’s not the time for poetry
and don’t use the tracks
as a short cut’
she said.
So, I waited.
I waited for
The train of thought
to express by.
Chewing
on a once fitting cap,
My ball- point foot tapped
like the hind of
a black BIC
that isn’t
quite waterproof.
In my right
Held in the centre
A plastic drum rolled
Beat.
With my left
A right-angled scaffold
Supporting
My temple and cheek.
Paradoxical parallels
Of the railways sleepers
Smothered in oily ink fails,
They stop the rot
Of the embedded words
under the sleeping ladder rails
It might hit me
if I cut the metered track,
A paraphrased choice
Echoing that voice: ‘stand back’
Behind thick yellow tarmac
The writer’s blocked line
I’m saved from the cheat sheets
and half
rhymed times.
Revolutionaries
Revolutionaries
by Craig Kurtz
BASED ON MIDDLETON AND ROWLEY’S PLAY OF THE SAME NAME
We’re going to obviate them all
’cause being old’s against the law;
we’ve legislation that now bans
all crones and coots and their bedpans.
We’re done with them and their bad backs,
their politics and their earwax;
they had their shot, they’ve had their chance —
we’ve heard it all from smarty-pants.
Ah, yes, ‘it’s for your own damn good’ —
their fav’rite word, I’m sure, is ‘should’;
they’ve got advice for everyone
except themselves, then it’s no fun;
for years, we’ve heard them sneer and scold —
if they’re so smart, how’d they get old?
They’ve hogged the spotlight and they’ve run
the country they think they begun;
well, now it’s time to step aside —
someone inform ’em that they died.
It’s time that we got rid of them
with their sagacity and phlegm;
we’ve had enough of their mistakes,
their speeches and their bellyaches.
What they have done for world affairs
deserves a good kick down the stairs;
when they’re removed, then things will be
utopian, and hassle-free;
we’ll have no wars when they are gone,
we’ll all look great with swimsuits on;
we won’t hear ‘hmph, I told you so’ —
inheriting won’t be so slow.
The world is for adventurers,
not fuddy-duddies with dentures;
we’re extirpating the old guard —
they really shouldn’t take it hard;
and when time’s up for you and me,
we’ll reconsider this decree.
Point Dume
Third Place Poetry Winner
Point Dume
by Cori Morris
I took the leap
Not knowing
how or why I’d change.
I’d come back with tears in my eyes and
A longing that would never leave me.
I bought the tickets, I just knew it was right.
I knew I had to go,
I never questioned, nor considered
California.
I never thought about you,
until this land moved me to tears;
I was lifted
as if by an unearthly wind.
Growing there on the spot
Digging roots,
Laying ground,
Settling in,
To watch this sunset fade
A wash of emotion consumes me
I linger,
Looking back.
Watching the twilight rolling in,
The grass blowing gently,
As if waving me back.
I feel a great sadness, a longing.
I long not to leave this place ever again.
I want to explore it – catalog it.
Preserve it. Impress this memory, until I never, ever forget – what I felt here.
Where I once stood.
Its ever-present consciousness seeping its wild wisdom deep in the innermost cavities of my mind.
The longing grows, even as I turn away and walk away.
I keen holding back a cry.
This Point changed me.
I am different inside.
I couldn’t go,
But the flight was booked.
I felt like staying there forever. Locked in time,
I thought maybe I’d stop
Here and now and grow roots.
I was locked, floundering, overwhelmed by this ocean, by the sea that called my name.
I still feel nature calling me, I hear it every day.
I still hear the sounds of time thundering, consistently ever present, the real and the white so bright and full of promise.
I still feel that tide thudding in my chest.
The Chaser
Second Place Poetry Winner
“The Chaser”
by Aurora Gamrak
Those ancient trees are falling, drowning in ravines –
Limbs, whipping against the skies,
The wind giving voice to their cries!
Flaming sunsets lick and burn the edges of consciousness;
Like smoke drifting from my dirt-encrusted lips.
Run for the River –
Our lives depend on it!
Leave hurried, putrid comforts behind –
Enveloped within the carcass of fallen trees;
Even the eye of a child can see,
How far we have fallen from divinity.
Sunlight
First Place Poetry Winner
Sarah Stecher Poetry Prize
Sunlight
by Emily Forrest
I’ve slept in the summer sun so much
That she kissed my hair with her touch
And left the taste of her golden light,
The same brightness that bursts before night
And draws color into each new day
As the dancing fog is pushed away.
A Home Called Earth
A Home Called Earth
by Cori Morris
I choose to see the world, one way. Through a lens of sunshine. A harbinger of gold and pollen. I see the world in greens and yellows, saturated colors, orbs of light. I chase the sun dancing on my skin like a bee chases nectar. I live for those sun-saturated moments. The moments when I realize how good we have it here on planet Earth. When dancing for the pure pleasure of it, sunlight bursting, refracting off of eyes and skin. Closing your eyes and paying attention only to what your ears can hear. The sounds of squirrels calling to one another, the whizzing of bees flying busily by, birds singing glorious songs and hummingbirds cheerfully making their rounds. All of them fighting for one little spot of creation. Each new breath of life is a gift and yet we treat our resources like they are disposable.
We still don’t understand the monumental blessing we’ve been given. To live on a planet that has the kind of atmosphere we have, Earth is a singular anomaly in the Universe. There isn’t another planet like it that we’ve found. We have it so good and yet we don’t appreciate it. We use our resources as disposable – and we have no idea how much fossil fuel is left or how long it will last. We never think about what kind of pollution power plants spout off every day, providing us with electricity. Or that our waste is causing so much methane gas, that it’s causing the Earth to heat up (NASA). And that’s only one of the ways that Global Warming is affecting temperatures, emissions from our cars produce six different types air pollution, causing smog, and contributing to asthma and are even linked to cancer (Union of Concerned Scientists). So many of the ways that we live are wasteful and inefficient and harmful, but so many people won’t change because it’s not convenient for them. But it’s not about convenience, it’s about what we want the future to look like.
We live in a disposable age, an instant age. We want what we want now, and we don’t really think about the consequences. We go to the store and use numerous plastic bags once and then throw it away. We use plastic straws one time, and then they too are thrown away and end up poisoning our oceans, fish and us. We use and throw out things so much that the waste we produce is an insane amount. We throw things away without even thinking about it. But I’ve never seen someone throw away their whole house just because the drain got clogged or a toilet overflowed. Or get a new car just because they ran out of gas.
National Geographic discusses the harms of such indifference to waste and its side effects, “The prediction is that by mid-century, the oceans will contain more plastic waste than fish…” That shocking estimate should be enough to scare you. It certainly scares me. Although that’s not all we have to worry about. Not only is it harming sea life, but it’s also causing acidity in the oceans to rise (National Geographic) and global temperatures numbers continue to go up. The bleaching of the coral reef is a direct result, losing its vibrant colors and life, causing concern in environmental circles (Megan Gannon).
We humans, we are ultimately problem solvers, we fix things. Make them better and make the world a better place to live. I’ve often wondered, what it would take for people to look up and notice there might be a problem. Shouldn’t we take notice when the bees start disappearing? Or the monarchs? The simplest and most basic life forms on Earth are its most precious and vital resources. Ones we can’t afford to lose. When do we get serious about the place we rely on and call home? When do we decide to clean up after ourselves? When does any of this begin to matter? When the fires rage in California, or when the oxygen levels and pollution make it harder and harder to breathe? Is that when we’ll finally understand? Or maybe when the glaciers melt around Greenland and flood New Orleans and Mimi or even New York? (Jet Propulsion Laboratory) Is that when will we finally understand we need to change?
When do we begin to understand that there is a fundamental problem with the place we reside? We are the Earth’s last hope. If we won’t protect it, cultivate it, ensure it will be here for our children, who will?
As JFK once bravely asked, “If not us, who? If not now, when?”
We must be the ones to see green, to see all the colors of the rainbow – to wonder at the stars. To gasp at the sound of a rocket lifting off, the promise of tomorrow still ringing in my ears. Echoing further into tomorrow, a lasting memory. Harrowing, gnawing at me, to write these words. There are things I don’t want to forget, sights and sounds, regularities, little gems of this planetary paradise that I don’t want to fade from existence. I don’t want what we have now to become foreign and strange. We are an oddity, no, a rarity in all of time and space and every day we are losing more and more of that strange wild beauty that is fading slowly.
There is no alarm for climate change, no magical sounding bell that will cascade down from the heavens telling us that it might be time to change. Not just changing the ways we live, but living more efficiently and productively.
I don’t want to forget the sound of a gurgling stream, the sound of rain falling on my bathroom window. The sounds of locusts on a perfectly warm Summer’s night, the sounds of frogs croaking in a nearby pond. Birds signing in the afternoon light. Dancing fireflies, scattered throughout the darkening evening light, the wonder of a child at discovering a new bug or butterfly. That wonder should not just be for children, it should remain in us – wonder is just what we need right now. To reach for the stars and not just to wonder how they got there.
These are the things I want all people everywhere to experience, to be alone in the forest. One with nature. Observing the teeming and almost invisible life forms all around us. All necessary for the little ecosystems and the functions of life. The facts are, we share this planet with a variety of other creatures and insects, and if we won’t save it for ourselves maybe we’ll save it for them. The more we learn and study our planet and explore energy saving options and clean energy. The more we can certifiably augment our future and change the way we’re going; it’s going to be a better place. But if we keep using more and more resources the results could be catastrophic. We need to be givers, aiding the Earth, this needs to be a national, global precedent. But it starts with you, with a single decision to make the Earth a more habitable environment. We all can contribute; it is not one man’s problem to solve. It is all of us together that can make a difference.
Here are some ways you can help on a larger scale and in small everyday ways:
- Go electric and choose gas free modes of transportation. If you can’t do that carpooling is a great and fun option to help keep fewer cars on the road.
- Collect rainwater, you will be amazed at the quality of the water! Your plants will thank you too!
- Don’t use plastic water bottles. Bring your own reusable water bottle with you! Your wallet will thank you! (National Geographic says that 91% of plastic water bottles aren’t recycled and end up in massive landfills and in our oceans, which are causing abnormally high acidity levels in the Sea. If that’s not a sobering incentive not to use these awful plastics I don’t know what is.) Also bonus tip: Bring your own bags to the store instead and opt out of using single-use plastic straws. (Stores like Aldi’s don’t provide bags, which force you to bring your own and I think more stores should do the same.)
- Take a quiz and see what your ecological footprint here: (www.footprintcalculator.org/). Consider taking meat or dairy out of your diet, not only is it not healthy for you and hard on your digestion, vegetables can be easily grown and are very nutritious. Going vegan can reduce your carbon footprint by 70%!
- Shop brands and stores who are concerned about the environment and use Earth conscious materials. (Also buying cruelty-free beauty brands is a major plus too!)
- Pick up after yourself! Don’t be a litterbug! Littering is lazy and irresponsible, and I think we can do better! You can even go the extra mile and pick up trash around your neighborhood or school.
- Plant trees! Or better yet plant a whole garden! Not only are you helping the bees, but trees are also one of the most important pollination stops for bees. Look online for plants that aid pollinators like monarchs and honeybees.
- Start composting! This small action you can take every day that can cause a great positive change. Composting can cut your waste in half and be a fun way to watch nature at its finest. You can start a compost pile in your yard, or bin, save your coffee grounds, old food, greens, peelings, and eggshells. There are quite a few resources on how to compost online but those are just a few things you can compost. It’s gaining popularity in many circles and it’s quite good for the garden as well!
- When you wash your clothes, run the cycle on cold, it saves a ton of energy! Also, line drying your clothes saves energy and your clothes will smell sweet and clean!
- Vote for leaders and politicians that believe climate change is real. We need to acknowledge we do have an effect on the Earth.
Works Cited
“Cars, Trucks, Buses and Air Pollution.” Union of Concerned Scientists, www.ucsusa.org/clean-vehicles/vehicles-air-pollution-and-human-health/cars-trucks-air-pollution#.W_3qP2aZPOQ.
Gannon, Megan. “The Great Barrier Reef Is ‘In for a Rough Ride.’” Scientific American, 21 Nov. 2018, www.scientificamerican.com/article/the-great-barrier-reef-is-in-for-a-rough-ride/.
“Global Surface Temperature | NASA Global Climate Change.” NASA, NASA, 19 Feb. 2019, climate.nasa.gov/vital-signs/global-temperature/.
“Ocean Acidification.” National Geographic, 18 July 2017, www.nationalgeographic.com/environment/oceans/critical-issues-ocean-acidification/.
“Ramp-Up in Antarctic Ice Loss Speeds Sea Level Rise.” NASA, NASA, 13 June 2018, www.jpl.nasa.gov/news/news.php?feature=7159.
Church
Church
by Cory Williams
Jack sat in the third row on the far-left side of the sanctuary. Fourth seat, the same seat, he occupied every Sunday morning for the past thirteen years. His dirty ripped jeans were far from his Sunday best, and the blood splatter didn’t help things. It was OK, though. At three in the afternoon Sunday service had been over for hours. Jack was just the last to leave today. He looked towards the empty pulpit. It was eerily quiet in its emptiness. And it would remain quiet until it found a new owner.
The blood of the previous occupant was still running down its glass frame. That’d be easy to clean. The carpet would be the real job. Jack had spent the last forty-five minutes trying to think of another church that had a carpeted stage. He couldn’t come up with one, and he hated the fact.
Jack started to think of the sermons he had heard from that pulpit. It was a distraction from the carpet issue. Surely, he could google how to get blood out of a carpet. Can the police check search history? Jack didn’t want to think about that. He couldn’t afford to right now.
Jack stared at the red lines pin-striping the pulpit. How many times had Jack heard that he was saved by the blood of Christ in this very room? It was the foundation of his faith, but doubts were beginning to creep in. Can blood spilled on a cross erase the sin of blood spilled in a church?
Jack sat in the silence that engulfed the sanctuary and pondered this. He had never experienced silence in this room except during prayer. Jack wanted to pray but couldn’t’ bring himself to approach God in his stained rags.
The silence became distracting. Jack let out a sigh that felt like it had been building up since birth. A single tear escaped his eye and began its downward journey towards it’s suicidal plunge from the jawline. By the time it made its way through his stubble and dripped from his chin it had taken on a pinkish hue from commingling with the foreign blood on Jack’s cheek.
Jack stood up and made his way to the custodial closet situated between the bathrooms. He had woken up this morning believing God could do anything. Now he wasn’t so sure. As he dug the Hoover out of the cramped closet, he wasn’t convinced the blood of Christ could wash him white as snow with the same confidence King David had advertised in the Psalms. Let the bones that you have broken rejoice. Rejoice? It sounded more like screaming to Jack. Screams and pleas for mercy.
Jack grabbed a half empty bottle off carpet detergent of the top shelf and gazed at it. He felt a rise within him and felt it grow. He began to find his faith again. He felt more faith than he had felt in the past couple of hours. If God couldn’t wash away his sins, than he would do it himself.