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Ä electronic literary 'zine Ä
*ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ*
ù ÄÄ´ volume eight ÃÄÄ ù
*ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ*
stop plagiarism - let out your soul
Copyright 2/96
ú úùcompiled & edited by Twilightùú ú
ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
Dedicated to Stephanie White and her son, Justin Kyle
..."with every goodbye you learn"...
þ Table of Contents þ
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
1. After A While - Veronica A. Shoffstall
2. Almas - Zita Marie Evensen
3. Ask Me If I'm A Truck - Janet Kuypers
4. Aubade And Elegy For El Hermanito - Michelle Vessel
5. Beauty - Mark Hallman
6. Caffe' Di Pensieri - Arlene
7. Chicago, West Side - Janet Kuypers
8. Convolution - C. Dianne Long
9. Daughter - Mary Ratcliff
10. Dead Rope - C. Dianne Long
11. Devil's Son - sca00030@mail.wvnet.edu
12. Drowning - Marco Morales
13. Eternity - GQ Guy
14. Everything Was Alive And Dying - Janet Kuypers
15. Fall Asleep - Sunflower
16. Fireflies - Mary Ratcliff
17. Fragile - Bob Ezergailis
18. Free The Hemp - Sunflower
19. Fruit - Marco Morales
20. I Idolize Myself - Mike Conway
21. Leaving Chicago - Paul David Mena
22. Manny Is Everywhere - Robb Buchanan
23. Melt Me - Twilight
24. Nothing Left To Lose - Slaanesh/Antigone
25. Over And Over Again - Pat DiNizio
26. Pink Moon - Sunflower
27. Reel Around The Fountain - The Smiths
28. Someone Doesn't Want Me Here - Twilight
29. Take Me, Fuck Me, Wheel Me In - Ian I. Hu
30. The Farmer's Serenade - C. Dianne Long
31. Undercurrent - C. Dianne Long
32. Unsevered Strings - Twilight
33. Untitled - Stephen Lush
34. When In The Dark - Mere Smith
35. Wrote This For A Guy Named Jon - Patricia Gonzales/Alli
þ Including Quotes From:
Tori Amos, _Batman Returns_, The Bible, William Clayton, Kurt Cobain,
Pat Conroy, Benjamin Disraeli, Drakon, Albert Einstein, _First Knight_,
F. Scott Fitzgerald, Thomas Jefferson, C.J. Jung, Courtney Love, Stephen
Perisie, Queen, Rush, Hugh Ryan, Mark Twain, and Tennessee Williams
ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
After A While
þ Veronica A. Shoffstall
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
After a while you learn
the subtle difference between
holding a hand
and chaining a soul
and you learn that love doesn't mean leaning
and company doesn't always mean security.
And you begin to learn
that kisses aren't contracts and
presents aren't promises
and you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of a woman
not the grief of a child
and you learn
to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow's ground is
too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.
After a while you learn
that even sunshine burns
if you get too much
so you plant your own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting
for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn
that you really can endure
that you really are strong
and you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn,
with every goodbye you learn.
"Too much love will kill you just as none at all." Ä Queen
Almas
þ Zita Maria Evensen
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
uncontrolled chain reaction of nuclear emotions
fireballs of greed hate hopelessness
sear the city pounding surges of primal screams
raging fires from molotov minds and spirits
explode in undulating waves -- and the world cries
for her for this city this los angeles
watch your back dodge the bullets
between street signs on your way to school
cry at the funeral of a young man
you say only yesterday laughing at the sun
and the world fears for this city --
this los angeles
a reaper stands on dead-end streets
wearing teen-age masks of eighty year old minds
while suicide watch shadows children
of the burnt-out ruins of a million memories
kindness is a clean crisp paperwork
required by legislated humanity
Ask Me If I'm A Truck
þ Janet Kuypers
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
so i worked in the summer time
part time with about ten guys
(since guys were stronger, they
could scoop ice cream better,
that was the idea). but they all
screwed off when they were
at work. they'd always write up
signs and tape them to each
others' backs. once i wrote on
the back of candy box paper,
"i'm a boy with raging hormones"
and for about an hour every
customer had a good laugh at
matt's expense. but my favorite
was put on john's back once. you
see, john used to tell everyone
the same joke; he'd say to you,
"ask me if i'm a truck," and when
you'd ask him if he was a truck,
he'd look real perplexed and say,
"no." like, why did you ask him
that? so anyway, we got a sign
on his back once that said "ask
me if i'm a truck" and when all
the customers did he got real
confused. it was hysterical.
þùúùþ
Janet Kuypers, Chicago, is the editor/publisher of the literary/art magazine
"children, churches and daddies". She has had two books published, _hope
chest in the attic_ and _the window_, is a graphic designer by day, and also
sings with a band.
Bio sketch:
Employment: Art/Production Editor for a publishing company in Chicago
Education: bachelor in News/Ed. Journalism (Communictions), with a minor in
photography, from the University of Illinois, Urbana/Champaign
Publication Credits: published over 600 for writing and over 150 for artwork.
"I don't own a computer. I have a nine-foot piano in my home to compose my
messages. Why would I want a one-foot computer to do the same thing?"
Ä Tori Amos
Aubade And Elegy For El Hermitano
þ Michelle Vessel
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
you had run away. tucked in caves,
starved on dirty mounds of the treasure of your alone self
(tremors of which had encrypted your skin, graffitied you foreign,
thrust gold thorn through your breast and spewed lightning in
your froggish heart) and i already knew your secret. i knew
exactly the price for your brand of life. i hear you
died scared. your heart waltzed you into a martyr
for the desert night with shit in your pants and
gimson seeds stuck between your teeth
away from me. and nowadays i rub my belly with jade against
this tainted weight of baby. he kicks
with the poison of a suicide. but i still dream you that way:
head cocked in listening, quiet and wild, crouching over the
dying fire of yourself. did you really think.
running away from my father and into the cold hole of your visions.
that i could? rob from you your living life? suck from
your blood the prickly pear of youth? look!
at my hands. young too, and just a rose. and a piece of dirt.
no priest or no guns could
have murdered the little abandon
i have loved first and last.
which i have loved best.
"I hold the key to who you really are/I was wrong and he will never forgive/
He kept me vital/Made we want to live" - Courtney Love
Beauty
þ Mark Hallman
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
a houseful of firemen
out scrubbing their truck
on a sunny day
Caffe' Di Pensieri
þ Arlene
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
clinging desperately onto
the waft of steam
which arises
from the froth
enshrouding a cappuccino scene
a need presents itself
to carve the image
forever in the mind
with the sound of
one spoon stirring
making insistent
circles in the dark
with the air having
devoured all notion of time
I write on the coffee table
etching here my name
and all remembrance of
mid-afternoon breaks
which shall soon be
drunk without much relish
and disappeared
into the air
a mere trifle of a wish
as always
dying unfulfilled
"We are young, wandering the face of the Earth, wondering what our dreams
might be worth; learning that we are only immortal for a limited time..."
Ä Rush
Chicago, West Side
þ Janet Kuypers
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
she knew who they were coming for
she crouched in front of the window
straddling her chair she moved from the corner
her coffee sat in the windowsill
the condensation rising, beading
on the window right about at her eye level.
she took the side of her index finger
periodically and smeared some of the
water away to look into the streets.
the snow was no longer falling on the
west side of Chicago; it just packed
itself darker and deeper into the ground
with every car that drove over it.
she gunshot was ringing in her ear
still. it was so loud. the earth cried
when she pulled that trigger. let out
a loud, violent scream. she could still
hear it. for these few moments, she had to
just stare out the window and wait. she
didn't know if she should bother running,
if it mattered or not. she couldn't think.
all she knew was that this time, when
she heard the sirens coming from the
streets, she'd know why they were coming.
she'd know who they were coming for.
"Sickos never scare me. At least they're committed." - 'Catwoman',
_Batman Returns_
Convolution
þ C. Dianne Long
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
The ball drops and I'm awake
despite a prescribed remedy
tossed down with a glass of water,
not the graying bottle of unopened
Freixenet
that I had planned to surround my brain.
Floating like a 7th grade science project
fingers dancing about the glass
hushed giggles and thwarted eyes
as sparks fly across the sky.
Black bottle is
lying on its side in the whiteness
of a chilled box
wrapped tightly and neatly bound
around the neck
like a voodoo doll of what
I will become
as each failed resolution
pricks me in my crooked spine
pulling my life apart
like a wishbone
until I'm lying cold
in a box
laced with good intentions
dancing fingers now grey
and intertwined
around an unopened bottle of '95
still chilled and on its side.
"I had never seen the cold corpse, she hid behind the paint.
Never saw the ivory devil beneath the plastic saint." Ä Hugh Ryan
Daughter
þ Mary Ratcliff
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
tiny fingers, tiny hands
big enough to hold my heart
"Place me like a seal over your heart,
like a seal on your arm;
for love is as strong as death,
its jealousy unyielding as the grave.
It burns like blazing fire,
like a mighty flame.
Many waters cannot quence love;
rivers cannot wash it away.
If one were to give all the wealth
of his house for love,
it would be utterly scorned." Ä Song of Solomon 8:6-7
Dead Rope
þ C. Dianne Long
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
When I bring you home
all red-faced and bundled with a black cord
will you smell like sweet cotton candy
or rotten as a graying corpse
will you cry all night
leaving my head throbbing
splitting like your dead rope
or will you coo with such sweet delight
that my heart burns with motherly love
as your drooling, toothless, silly smile
clears my burning red, watery eyes
or will I curse you and smell you
and shake you by your arms
shutting you up inside your holding tank
vacuuming out your cries
or will I love you, love you, love you
or will I see a crooked eye
will I love you, love you, love you
or leave you
with a kiss good-bye.
"Reluctant arena rock voice/My lipstick smeared on your soul/No flowers for
you/No flowers for a dead child" Ä Courtney Love
Devil's Son
þ sca00030@mail.wvnet.edu
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
standing atop a mountain looking down upon his subjects
he is the living epitome of "holier than thou"
they are all kneeling before him pitiful fearful and awestruck
with an heir of confidence and a graceful snarl he furrows his brow
beyond the gates of hell his soul resides within a chamber
if you listen closely at the door you'll hear a sound
a mephistophelean growl amidst satanic laughter
this soul in hell controls the man who stands on holy ground
he says his name is jesus and maybe he will save you
if you stay penitent and sell your precious soul
but once you do the gambit's run and then he'll have to slay you
and once you die your soul is damned to face the devil's son
you rolled your dice with the antichrist and now your life is done
your soul is doomed to be devoured by the devil's son
"The dumber people think you are, the more surprised they're going to be when
you kill them." Ä William Clayton
Drowning
þ Marco Morales
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
I sink.
My few last words
turn to bubbles
of rarefied air.
I just stare.
Those silver planets
rush to the surface
I'll never see again.
I despair.
The oceans rush
into my scream
raping me.
Family heart youth
sad love goodbye
All written in blue
against water and sand.
Pressure crushes life
in shades of blue and red.
Now I rest
on my solitary seabed.
"Never confuse a single defeat with a final defeat." Ä F. Scott Fitzgerald
Eternity
þ GQ-Guy
ùúùúùúùú
Slowly the papers,
decrepit and yellow with age,
gently rose upward
as a light wind blew quietly in through an open window
and across the layer of dust which coated the wooden floor.
Unlocking the door had been pointless;
nothing was to be found.
The old man,
depressed with the notion of memories lost,
quietly turned,
locked the door,
and walked noiselessly back down the passageway
into the darkness.
Everything Was Alive And Dying
þ Janet Kuypers
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
I
I had a dream the other night
I walked out of the city
to a forest
and there were neatly paved bicycle paths
and trash cans every fifty feet
and trash every ten
and then a raccoon came right up to me
she had a few little baby raccoons
following her, it was so cute, I
wish I had my camera
and she spoke to me,
she said, thank you
thank you for not buying furs,
I know you humans are pretty smart,
you have to be able to figure out a way
to keep yourselves warm
without killing me
and I said, you know they don't
do it for warmth,
they do it for fashion, they do it
for power. And she said I know.
But thank you anyway.
II
Then I walked a little further
and there was a stray cat
she still had her little neon collar on
with a little bell
and she walked a few feet,
stretched her front paws,
oh, she looked so darling
and then she walked right up to me
and she said thank you
and I said for what?
And she just looked at me for a moment,
her little ears were standing straight up,
and then she said, you know,
in some countries I'm considered
a delicacy. And I said how
do you know of these things?
And she said
when somebody eats one of you
word gets around
and then she looked up at me again
and said, and in some countries
the cow is sacred. Wouldn't they
love to see how you humans
prepare them for slaughter, how you
hang them upside-down
and slit their throats
so their still beating hearts
will drain out all the blood for you
and she said isn't it funny
how arbitrary your decision
to eat meat is?
and I said, don't put me
in that category, I don't eat meat
and she said I know
III
And I walked deeper in to the forest
managed to get away from the
picnic tables and the outhouses
that lined the forest edges
the roaring cars gave way to the
rustling of tree branches
crackling of fallen leaves
under my step
when the wind tunneled through
the wind whistled and sang
as it flew past the bark
and leaves
I walked
listened to the crack of dead branches
under my feet
and I felt a branch against my shoulder
I looked up and I could hear
the trees speak to me,
and they said
thank you for letting the
endangered animals live here amongst us
we do think they're so pretty
and it would be a shame to see them go
and thank you for recycling paper
because you're saving us
for just a little while longer
we've been on this planet for so long
embedded in the earth
we do have souls, you know
you can hear it in our songs
we cling with our roots
we don't want to let go
and I said, but I don't do much,
I don't do enough
and they said we know
but we'll take what we can get
IV
and I woke up in a sweat
V
so tell me, Bob Dole
so tell me, Newt Gingrich
so tell me, Pat Bucannan
so tell me, Jesse Helms
if you woke up from that dream
would you be in a sweat, too?
VI
Do you even know why
we should save the rain forest?
Oh preserve the delicate balance,
just tear the whole forest down,
what difference does it make?
Put in some orange groves
so our concentrate orange juice
can be a little cheaper
did you know that medical researchers
have a very, very hard time
trying to come up with synthetic
cures for diseases on their own?
It helps them out a little if they can first
find the substance in nature.
A tree that appears in the rain forest
may be the only one of its species.
Or one like it may be two miles away,
instead of right next to it. I wonder
how many cures we've destroyed
to plant more orange groves.
Serves us right.
VII
You know my motives aren't selfless
I know that these things are worthwhile in my life
I'd like to find a cure to these diseases
before I die of them
and I'm not just a vegetarian
because I think it's wrong to kill an animal
unless I have to
I also know the excess protein
pulls the calcium away from my bones
and gives me osteoperosis
and the excess fat gives me heart attacks
and I also know that we could be feeding
ten times more people
with the same resources used for meat production
You know, I know you're looking at me
and calling me an extremist
but I'm sitting here, looking around me
looking at the destruction caused by family values
and thinking the right, moral, non-violent decisions
are also those extreme ones
VII
everything is linked here
we destroy our animals
so we can be wasteful and violent
we destroy our plants
we destroy our earth
we're even destroying our air
we wreak havoc on the soil, on the atmosphere
we dump our wastes into our lakes
we pump aerosol cans and exhaust pipes
and you tell me I'm extreme
and these animals and forests keep calling out to me
the oceans, the wind
and I'm beginning to think
that we just keep doing it
because we don't know how to stop
and deep inside we feel the pain of
all that we've killed
and we try to control it by
popping a chemical-filled pain-killer
we live through the guilt
by taking caffeine, nicotine, morphine
and we keep ourselves thin with saccharin
and we keep ourselves sane with our alcohol poisoning
and when that's not enough
maybe a line of coke
maybe shoot ourselves in the head
in front of the mirror in the master bedroom
or maybe just take some pills
walk into the garage, turn on the car
and just
fall asleep
in the wild
you have no power over anyone else
now that we're civilized
we create our own wild
maybe when we have all this power
the only choice we have
is to destroy ourselves
and so we do
"It is error alone which needs the support of government. Truth can stand
by itself." Ä Thomas Jefferson
Fall Asleep
þ Sunflower
ùúùúùúùúùúù
I can't sleep by the window
I can't sleep by the window, my soul gets cold
Then I roll over in my bed and try to stop thinkin'
About what I need to do and how to channel my emotions
So I close my eyes, and for one more night...
Fall asleep
I can't feel the surface of the ground below
To focus my life, I must carry on
So I turn to the empty pages inside my heart
Where my imagination plays the major part
World of unknown dreams help to transform my...
Reality
Outside's where I lie
Outside's where I lie
Outside's where I'll die
Underneath the moonlight hear my soul cry
Screaming inside my head
Something's cold, it's fear I dread
Lost in a world where the unconscious has control
Please don't take my soul
"Never do anything against conscience, even if the state demands it."
Ä Albert Einstein
Fireflies
þ Mary Ratcliff
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
we chased fireflies on balmy summer nights
romping o'er grassy fields with glee
we gave chase
jars in hand with holes poked in the lids
we caught them, enchanted by their light
we put the jars on the nightstand
delighted with our homemade lights
careful to hide them from mother
we whispered about their mystery
long after lights-out time
summer was over all too soon
and the fireflies disappeared
an ill wind blew through coldly
and plucked you from my life
when I see the fireflies I cry
because the time they have is short
just like the days of you and me
when life had meaning and light.
"Our Life's Morning Dawns
Yet We Only Live Our Lives
In Our Memories." Ä Drakon
Fragile
þ Bob Ezergailis
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
When shall I fall
down from the vine,
as another withered leaf,
having become a thin layer
of bulging veins,
to become that smoke
that rises to touch
a few reddened eyes,
past the colours
of next season's flowers.
When shall I fall
down for the last time,
having held on,
held on, dangling,
in the twisting winds.
That cat and mouse game
played with death,
that everything plays,
so unwittingly,
often with our breaths.
The fragility of life.
Broken so easily
in any harsh climate.
Even the strongest
eventually break down.
The extreme frailty
of human existence.
It is so difficult,
at the best of times,
to avoid sudden endings.
"One of the greatest gifts you can get as a writer is to be born into an
unhappy family." Ä Pat Conroy
Free The Hemp
þ Sunflower
ùúùúùúùúùúùúù
Free the hemp to the rational mind
Lost again zen mandala spray its mist
That we may all be the sensational kind
As mary jane blows another majestic kiss
Free the hemp, free the hemp
Stoked again, they think I'm losing my mind
If they'd only try like me they'll come to find
That the beauty in life that we overlook every day
When high comes alive so people hear us say
Free the hemp, free the hemp
Please don't pass me by
I'm still young gettin' high
But I'll never cry
'Cause all I need's my soul
To never die
"So do not be afraid of them. Everything now covered up will be uncovered,
and everything hidden will be made clear. What I say to you in the dark,
tell in the daylight; what you hear in whispers, proclaim from the
housetops." Ä Matthew 10:26-7
Fruit
þ Marco Morales
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
A fruit carcass once sweet
now bitter, pregnant with hatred seed
lumped on a fly ridden heap
dissolves into empathic dreams.
I spat a sour mouthful
then picked the weeds
-sliced my throat
while devouring my greed.
I Idolize Myself
þ Mike Conway
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
i idolize myself
despise myself
revise myself
i watched me from outside myself
confine myself
inside myself
on the outside looking in to when
i crossed myself with metal pin
i turned the knife and stuck it in
and drank my blood with vapid grin
sin is when you're back again
you lick the knife and cut again
i'm never going back again
i had it once, my blood's too thin
i idolize myself
despite myself
revive myself
i watch me from outside myself
define myself
beside myself
from the outside looking in to when
i crossed my heart with metal pin
and cut it out with knife worn thin
i know that i'll go back again
my body drenched in blood again
i'm covered in your sin again
i'll try to fight it once again
i've had it now, my soul gives in
"I miss the comfort in being sad." Ä Kurt Cobain
Leaving Chicago
þ Paul David Mena
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
by the time I reached the second toll plaza
Courtney Love had faded to static
I could still smell the city through my open window
I paid exact change
accepted a bright plastic thank you
and drove into white noise
snow was beginning to appear on the shoulder
afraid of the city
perfectly at ease in the suburbs
mariachi station wagons replaced by trucks
one of them breezed past me
while I gripped the wheel with both hands
another appeared in my rear view mirror
slowly growing larger
before shifting to the left
I swallowed hard
wishing I could close my eyes
too many miles of this
too many miles between us
the grey sky was already suffocating
the lavender I left behind
I turned off the radio
and daydreamed
riding the steam from your jasmine tea
away from Chicago
"Love is a state of insanity anyway." Ä Stephen Perisie
Manny Is Everywhere
þ Robb Buchanan
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
"I'm scared."
"Excuse me?" I reply.
"I'm scared, man," replies Manny.
"Of what?"
"Them."
"Who's them?"
He looks over at Brother George, who is sitting quietly in his desk, doing his
assignment.
"Him?"
"Yes, him," he says. "His type. All them conservative, religious folk."
"That's a stereotype, Manny. Just because you don't like one of them doesn't mean you shouldn't like all of
them."
"Fine. Then most of them. The happy ones. The combination of everything
wrong with college. Constantly happy, like sorority girls - dressing
conservatively, like the Nudist Club -"
"There is no Nudist Club."
"- and quoting the Bible, just letting themselves be brainwashed, like that
'PC' group."
"What 'PC' group?"
"The ones that say Halloween is Satanic."
"Who?"
"The one hanging over our government's head?"
"Huh?"
"The reason Wal-Mart and K-Mart aren't selling 'In Utero'. The reason public
arts and broadcasting funding is being cut back."
"Oh, them!" I say. "They quote the Bible?"
"One would assume. Why else would they be so blind?"
"You're doing it again, dude," I tell him.
"Fine, I am," he says. "Halloween was created because regular people would
dress up as evil spirits, so as to lure them away from the town."
"Really?"
"Yes, really. Like I said, they're blind. And stupid."
"Hmm..."
"No, they are. I heard someone attack Jews as Satanic. He had to be informed
that the Jewish Bible is the Old Testament. Morons, I tell you."
"Not everyone is like that."
"No?"
"No!"
"Okay, watch this - GODDAMN. THIS CLASS SUCKS!!"
The teacher doesn't move.
Brother George looks up.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk that way around me," he says.
"Why?" Manny asks.
"It's offensive."
"Why?"
"You're taking the Lord's name in vain."
"And?"
"You shouldn't talk about your creator that way."
"Creator? Says who?"
"The Bible."
"And who wrote the Bible?"
Pause. He's about to answer when Cindy approaches him.
"George, will you go out with me?"
George looks at nothing but her face.
"Why?" he asks.
"Because you're cute," she replies innocently.
"Oh, Cindy, you know I can't," he replies.
"That looks familiar..." I say.
"The prosecution rests," Manny says, ignoring me.
Brother George goes back to his work.
"I don't get it," I say.
He sighs. "Brother George?"
"Yes?"
"Do you have that new Nirvana CD?"
"You know that's Satanic."
"But the lyrics are clean."
"Yes, but your singers are going to hell, mine aren't."
I stare in disbelief.
"Um, George?" I say.
"Yes?"
"You've read the Bible and accept it?"
"Of course."
I gulp. "And you think other people should do the same?"
"Of course! The word of God should be embraced by all! He is our saviour
after all."
I look over at Manny. "I'm scared."
"The prosecution rests again," he tells me.
Cindy approaches George again.
"Can I sit on your lap?" she asks innocently.
"Ah, Cindy, that would be wrong," he replies, then goes off on some tangent
about why.
"You see? That's the future," Manny tells me.
I won't give up.
"George? Ya going to the Halloween party?"
"Halloween is a Pagan holiday," he informs me.
"Cindy will be there."
He doesn't respond.
"Anything else?" Manny asks nonchalantly.
"Well... why'd you make fun of sororities? My girlfriend's in a sorority."
"She is not."
"Yes, she is."
"Fine. She is. There's gotta be 10,000 of them! You don't think that's a
bit trendy?"
"It takes responsibility to do what they do," I tell him.
"It takes money. How hard is it to spend their parents money? They do that
anyway."
"Service work is tough."
"So is changing the channel without a remote. I'd go insane."
"They have to."
"Why?"
I have to think about that one. "They just do."
"I see."
I have to ponder that channel thing for another minute.
"So you hate sororities?" I ask Manny.
"Yep."
"Why?"
"Follow the leader."
"It's more than that, Manny," I tell him.
"Follow the leader while the whole student population gapes at you."
"You have a problem with Greek life?" interjects Franz, a 200 lb., 6'6" frat
boy.
"No, Franz," Manny says.
Did I mention Franz is dating a 4'5" sorority girl?
"I didn't think so," growls Franz.
He goes back to studying a fast cars & alcohol magazine. I feel compelled to
tell him it's upside-down, but he was mean to Manny.
"And you hate religions because..."
"Love your brother," Manny shoots back. "Your brother swears, love him. Your
brother gets depressed, love him. Your brother rapes your sister, love him.
Pathetic."
"Love is wrong?"
"Unconditional love is wrong. That's why Barney sucks so hard."
"Barney is a good role model," says Brother George.
"I see," Manny says. "Bad acting is a good role model. I'll remember that."
"Anything else?" I ask.
"What did you have in mind?"
"If you could preach to the school one tidbit of this worldly knowledge of
yours, what would you say?"
Manny thinks for a second then says, "Three things: 1) Don't believe ANYthing
unless you've confirmed it with two of your five senses, 2) Don't argue how
bad society's morals are if you don't follow them yourselves, and 3) The
Constitution is more important than the Bible."
"I'm scared," George cuts in.
"Fuck you, George," Manny tells him.
"Don't talk -"
"I said, 'Fuck you, George.'"
He goes back to his work.
"You should write for the newspaper," I tell Manny.
"We have a newspaper?"
"Yeah. And a student council too."
"Oh. And what do they do?"
"I don't know."
"Suppose you were an idiot. And suppose you were a member of Congress.
But I repeat myself." Ä Mark Twain
Melt Me
þ Twilight
ùúùúùúùúùú
Encased in ice
Frozen, I stand still
Enduring sensory deprivation,
I feel no warmth.
Scarred and burned tissue -
Nerves twisted into knots,
Dead at the terminals...
Blocked out vision
Rejected song
Tastebuds dry...and depleted.
But - pumping inside,
Raging to escape,
Pounding and pleading -
To be let out...
To shed this winter coat
And emit, emanate - radiate!
But nothing will cooperate...
Try -
Not a lost cause...
Push -
Thickness is not infinite...
Pierce me open and thaw me out -
Please, all I ask
Is one pinprick to the heart.
Nothing Left To Lose
þ Slaanesh/Antigone
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
nothing left to lose
"FREE"--across the
top of the mirror.
I never see my reflection.
"I dove off the stage, and suddenly, it was like my dress was being torn off
me, my underwear was being torn off me, people were putting their fingers
inside of me and grabbing my breasts really hard, screaming things in my ears
like 'pussy-whore-cunt'. When I got back onstage I was naked ... But the
worst thing of all was that I saw a photograph of it later - someone took a
picture of me right when this was happening, and I had this big smile on my
face like I was pretending it wasn't happening. So later I wrote a song
called 'Asking For It' based on the whole experience. I can't compare it to
rape because it's not the same. But in a way it was. I was raped by an
audience - figuratively, literally, and yet, was I asking for it?"
Ä Courtney Love
Over And Over Again
þ Pat DiNizio
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
It was just yesterday
That I saw your face
Looking in my window
I can't recall the place we first met
It seems, but I guess that you know
Hadn't thought about it
For a long, long time
But still she's here inside me
Never off my mind
I try to hide it from you but you know
And I hear it over and over again
Do you recall the day
I first came your way
And I had to know you
When you stepped in the way
And I smiled at you
Though I never meant to
Hadn't thought about it
For a long, long time
But still she's here inside me
Never off my mind
I try to hide it from you but you know
And I hear it over and over again
You can talk about tomorrow
All your talkin' doesn't mean a thing
All our yesterdays are sorrow
Can't stop remembering
Hadn't thought about it
For a long, long time
But still she's here inside me
Never off my mind
I try to hide it from you but you know
And I hear it over and over again
"Better a pebble given out of love than a diamond given out of duty."
Pink Moon
þ Sunflower
ùúùúùúùúùúù
Radiant sky, created by
The pink moon overhead
All dreams tainted, waters polluted
But in the core a well resides, so pure
As we get closer it runs away
But when we were distant, so easy to see
That which is sweet, sour one and the same
The real moon is camouflaged, by the blood-stains
What I know doubts itself
I may need some help
Trapped in the shadow of myself
Feeling like there's nothing left
Radiant sky, created by
The pink moon overhead
Hoping it will come soon
When the night from pink to white
Transforms the moon
Reel Around The Fountain
þ The Smiths
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
It's time the tale were told
of how you took a child
and you made him old
Reel around the fountain
slap me on the patio
I'll take it now
Fifteen minutes with you
well, I wouldn't say no
people said that you were virtually dead
and they were so wrong
Fifteen minutes with you
well, I wouldn't say no
people said that you were easily led
and they were half-right
I dreamt about you last night
and I fell out of bed twice
you can pin and mount me like a butterfly
but take me to the haven of your bed
was something that you never said
two lumps, please
you're the bee's knees
but so am I
Meet me at the fountain
shove me on the patio
I'll take it slowly
Fifteen minutes with you
oh I wouldn't say no
people see no worth in you
oh but I do
"Never apologize for showing feeling. When you do so, you apologize for
truth." Ä Benjamin Disraeli
Someone Doesn't Want Me Here
þ Twilight
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
[special thanks to courtney love for her lyrics]
waxen lips pallid skin upon the satiny soft pillow looking up through frozen
lids surrounded by flowers white lilies concentrate on the petals cards of
sympathy attached all the i'm sorrys and deepest sympathies can't look over
to her shut them out shut out the crying the screaming close your eyes
don't watch her collapse over him in such grief sobbing and asking why
shut it out shut it all out focus on nothingness block out the soft music
piano keys gently pressed into my fleshiness molding shaping denting squeezing
pounding on my heart lyrics swimming
-if you live through this with me i swear that i would die for you
no shut it out strength be strong now
-where is the baby who took my baby
the child wails as if he too knows the sorrow of the truth your daddy killed
himself he didn't love you or mommy enough felt the only way to rid of the
pain was to hand it over to others instead let it multiply make it worse
coward selfish jerk shut up don't think but you don't deserve such honor it's
not an option it's a killer and you killed them by killing yourself damn you
damn this wandering mind damn this annoying music like a mosquito buzzing in
my ear damn me i can't focus memories backwash regurgitating bile into my
mouth constricting cannot breathe frantic glances to all in black hugging
each other in support cannot stand it gonna scream gonna die gotta get on
out of this stuffy coffin fast as i can cannot forgive cannot forget anger
burning in my red hot tears searing my cheeks rage hurt empathy damn my
piscean self damn all those fucking cowards
-he said he'd never ever ever go away he said he'd always always he would
always stay
sense of failure though i had no clue no knowledge pangs of guilt wish i
could have known helped wish i could have done something want to be
all-knowing thrive on burdens survivors set examples hey you can live through
this so fuck you world you may have won this time but i will have the last
laugh been through hell know it well will triumph in the end i promise but
why save in this overpopulation to be superman feed me kryptonite will still
live fight him fight this widespread epidemic just fight but i still feel so
weak someone doesn't want me here
-i am the girl you know the one who should have died
fuck that
"What is the victory of a cat on a hot tin roof? Just staying on it, I
guess, as long as she can..." Ä Tennessee Williams
Take Me, Fuck Me, Wheel Me In
þ Ian I. Hu
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
don't leave me here alone
step down on my back
my hands are on my head
i'm down on my knees
you look at me and cry
i'm so pitiful in clay
i'm stuck here in this cold
i'm trembling on my own
you look at me and cry
i'm so sad in ecstacy
you wish it was enough
i don't know why i need
i don't know why i crave
i'm an addict
take me away
"She's everybody else's girl; maybe someday she'll be her own..." Ä Tori Amos
The Farmer's Serenade
þ C. Dianne Long
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
In a shiny shovel, you see my face
Reflecting the seed that you're afraid to be
Deep inside lies a stranger
Fetal positioned, filled with anger.
Dig away, break your ground
Turn over the soil upon me
So that I remain dirty and unseen
Only your shoes are left unclean.
Underneath years of cultivation
The seed you feared in you
Was buried, then grew inside of me
Harvest time is now, you see.
You've planted, you've tilled
A careful farmer you are
What a beautiful crop you've grown
A special gift, this seed you've sown.
An Indian gift, you might say
You gave to me but you take it away.
With this you have so much to learn
As the giftbearer, it is my turn.
I present to you, icy cold and black
In my heart, in my hand
A gift that you've always wanted
To aid your planting, yet leave you haunted.
Deafen me with your scream
Our secrets revealed
My gift in red, white and blue
In a note signed from me to you.
'To my friend, my farmer
My bitter enemy
This is my gift - your seed's demise'
Now, now, my sweet, don't look so surprised.
The paper will always be white, the ink blue
But the red will fade to brown
Like the ground you broke that bittersweet day
When a seedling was only a harvest away.
"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."
Undercurrent
þ C. Dianne Long
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
You drifted toward her
through a white foam cloud
I couldn't see if you were smiling
the murky water was too thick
but I longed to see a frown.
I squinted until crows feet appeared
the waves crashed and left
rings
All sealed with a kiss
I think I heard you call her dear.
The ceremony is over
I'm still choking on my objection
white, powdery and dry in my throat
warm saltwater doesn't ease the suffocation
Unless you're in the glass
Swimming toward me
my driftwood
lifebuoy
Eyes sparkling
through a cloudy sea.
You reach through the water
All I see is golden lead
Circling your finger
And hovering above your head
My saint of sorrow
You've killed my dreams
And swallowed my memories
Like an undercurrent
Pulling yesterday
from tomorrow.
Swim back, yellow-finned man
to your goldenfish
Waiting in the coral
Still dressed in white
You've circled long enough to be fed
the sun's gone down
the sharks are out
I'm alone
and
the water's red.
Unsevered Strings
þ Twilight
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
Someone cut me free
Let me fly
Let me taste variety
Adventurous spirit trapped
In this cyclic monotony
What would I do
To run on frosted grass
With pink clouds against a bright blue sky
What I would do
To be set free
And dive into the cliffs
What would I do...
If someone cut me free
Deja vu
Isn't new
It's just reality
Can't escape
Can't fly free
Tangled...in these puppet strings
Of an age-old show
For all eternity
Someone set me free
Unlock the door
Let me flee this wire cage
Ravenous desire left to waste
Rotting in its entirety
What I would do
To surf clear blue swells
And fall one hundred stories
What I would do
To be set free
And die with thrill upon these lips
What would I do...
If someone set me free
"A man who fears nothing is a man who loves nothing. And if you love
nothing, what joy is there in your life?" Ä 'King Arthur', _First Knight_
Untitled
þ Stephen Lush
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
It's as we had to touch the night to see the day
it's not even closer to the inner walls of flame
dying closer to me
removing the leaves from the trees
embers of past, isn't it a blast?
lights in lines, smoothie ghetto rhymes
and you shouldn't even see
what's there for you isn't here for me
drawn blood like sponges with tongues
we're all cardboard surrounding a gift
takes time, you have to wave bye to time
the rifts in the walls appear
and you wonder where you thought it began
and the sands of nostalgia have open hands
whizzled and dizzled, faked and fizzled
baseline, out, the cheerleaders shout
do you know what you have to be?
will you taste the night for me?
the volume of the stars is eleven
and few have reached these gates of heaven
petty wordless sounds abound
the dark is the only time we can be the stars.
When In The Dark
þ Mere Smith
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
when in the dark
i am not craving
a gaping mouth a
small tongue
twice look here
and give me your shy
quick glance off
at the intersection
when in the dark
i am not wanting
a body a bone a blanched
face in mine
shake once no
so i can prey you down
could you run a
little faster, please
i do not want to catch you
when in the dark
i am not waiting
the rain in my hair
darkening pillows
sliding into the cup
of my sideways ear
"How can I be substantial if I fail to cast a shadow? I must also have a
dark side if I am to be whole." Ä C.J. Jung
Wrote This For A Guy Named Jon
þ Patricia Gonzales/Alli
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú
I gazed at a bare frame
This afternoon.
A lovely image arose from its glassy heart
A portrait of you.
Was a beautiful deception
While it stayed.
An infinite blitheful fantasy
That faded away.
ßÜ
ÜßÜÝÜßÜ
ßÜÞÜß Ü Ü Üß
Ü ÜßÜ ÝÜßÜß ÜßÜßÜ
ßÜßÜ ÜßÜßÞÜß ÜßÜ Ü ßÜÜßÜß
ßÜßÜÜß Ü ßÜßÜÝÜßÜß ÜßÜ ßÜ ßÜ ß
ßÜßÜß Üß Ü Ü ßÜÝÜß Üß ÜßÜ ßÜÜßÜßÜ
Üßßß Üß Û Ü ÜßßÜÞ ÜßÜß Ü ßÜßÜÜ ßÜß
Üß ßÜÜß Üß Ü ßßÜßÝßÜß ÜÜ ßÜßßÜ ß
Üß ÜßßÜÜß ÜßßÜ ßÝß ÜßÜ ßÜßßÜ ß
Üß ÜßßßÝÜß ÜÜßÜÞÜßÜß ÛÞßßÜ ß
ß ÜÜßÜßÜß ÜßÜÞÜß ÜßÜÝßÜÜß
Ü Üßßßß ßÜßÝÜßÜÜßÜß Ü Ü
Ü Ü ßÜ ßÜ ßÜßßßÜÜßÝÜÛßÜßÜÜß Üß Üß Üß
Ü ßÜßÜ ßÜÜßÜßÜßÜßÜßÜÜÛÛÛÜßßÜßÜßÜßßßÜÜß ÜßÜß
ßÜßÜßÜßÜßßÜ ßÜ ßÜßÜß ß Ý ß ßÜ ßÜßÜ ßÜßÜßÜßßÜ
ÜßßÜßÜ ßÜßÜ ßÜ ß Þ ß ß ß ß ß
Ý
Ý
Þ
ß ùtwiù
Legalize.
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
Submit your original literary works for Spilled Ink, [volume nine], to
Twilight via Internet e-mail:
twilight@mail.utexas.edu
ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù
