By Pavan Dayal
Its blackness fills your throat; you cannot speak.
Your lips start burning as if caught on fire.
You taste this poison when you’re feeling weak.
The pain you feel is what you most desire.
It’s darker than the drapes of Death himself;
The night without a moon cannot compare.
It’s hotter than the depths of Hell itself,
And all who take it say it’s more bitter.
With morning's sun and by the lighted moon,
Too many men indulge this medicine,
And when time comes, drop like a lead balloon;
But first they swoon, and thrive in happy sin.
It brings me life and plenty energy
When I sit down and sip some sound coffee.
By Javier A. Flores
The bearded bard boasts,
Of truly tender tunes,
Yet plays paltry pieces.
The fain flutist fawns,
At large, lascivious lasses,
and remorsefully regrets retreat.
The daft, dainty dancer,
Does keenly keep knowing,
But clearly ceases caring.
The sweet sounding singer,
With aberrant assets abloom,
Needs quixotic, queerly quenching.
The yucky, yellow yodeler,
must gleefully gain girth,
To win worldly wonders.
By Tianna Perry
Feel one million emotions
Rushing through me.
Like a wild waterfall,
It through in my veins
And bubbles in my brain.
Until it reaches the edge
Of my lips and
Pours out of my mouth.
I tell you,
“I love you.”
The silence grows;
I can hear the brutal smash of water.
Then you break into a brilliant smile.
“I love you too.”
And the waterfall
Starts to flow again.
By Maya Tisdale
If you can’t see the sun amongst the clouds,
or hear the songs of peace being played,
Keep going cause you’re in too deep now.
You feet are too far on this road,
For you to have a change of heart,
have the strength to finish carrying this heavy load.
Yes, this path you have been on is awfully cold,
So crooked, rugged, lonely, and forsaken.
But this is no time to fold.
No time to shrink in size,
Or excuse yourself from life,
This, after all, is for the ultimate prize.
Yes, you’ve lost many who were by your side,
Many seem to be gone, only to cause more pain,
But what good would it be if you got so close, just to die?
Just to watch it all become undone.
To fade into the would’ve been, and could’ve been.
To be forced to celebrate what the enemy has won.
No, walk on through the days of night,
Where adversity surrounds you,
For the Lord knows well your cry.
You’re at the point of breaking,
All ready to fall,
But you’ve got to know the new day is just waking!
You have to hold out for that wave,
that flood of liberation,
For when it comes, you won’t even sway.
So go forward, and turn no other way at all,
Allow the stripes to be opened on your back,
Make you stand like no one beside you is tall.
All those lost while walking this land,
The empty silhouettes beside you,
Are waiting to, in a dance of praise, take your hand.
Go, till you can embrace His glory,
And tell the babies,
How good an author God was with your story.
By Michaela Gathings
By the time you realize you're an outcast,
You're surprised to see how much time has passed,
Yet slowly at last your face downcast.
But the reason at hand is because you weren't steadfast.
Brought together memories, thoughts amassed,
Memories of the things you did in the past.
“How you ended up here?” You asked and asked.
But you didn’t look through the pain of your past.
By Oluwajoba Ogun
I am woman, who’s confident and great.
I am woman, who doesn’t take defeat.
I am woman, working from date to date.
I am woman, who’s very hard to beat.
I am woman, who uses her loud voice.
I am woman, who stands up for rights.
I am woman, who always alright.
I am woman, who’s fearful and timid.
I am woman, who's strong-willed.
I am woman, who stays committed.
I am woman, who's always fulfilled.
I am woman, who’s always good and strong.
I am woman, who takes “no” as wrong.
Bask in the warmth and rays of the Sun,
Mortal love and happiness inspired;
Thus friends and lovers enjoy their fun,
Ideal relationships desired.
My love is like the best of seasons.
Seemingly eternal paradigm days,
Thus explored for no other reasons;
Summer sets lovers; destinies ablaze.
But, alas, leaves inevitably fall.
Relationships are put to the test;
Which shall vanish, or withstand it all?
And conclude, by triumph, above the rest?
Only those resolute and enduring,
Throughout Seasons, endlessly maturing.
By Caitlyn Doan
Sing me to sleep,
Because I am worn down and broken,
And all I want to do, is feel your warm embrace.
Sing me to sleep,
With your soothing voice,
And play me a lullaby on your guitar.
Sing me to sleep,
I will savor this moment forever,
Because I realize it can never happen again.
Sing me to sleep,
Because I don't think I will be here,
For much longer.
By Maya Tisdale
I don’t want to die pretty. I don’t care for the proper grooming
done for the deceased. I’d rather let my body be exposed,
in its last moments of sight.
I want the people to witness the downfall of a saint.
Some people want to die pretty. Skin all smooth, as though
it gives some type of warmth that only their appearance could bring.
Sometimes they even want closed caskets,
just to hide the unchangeable features of the dead.
They don’t want to give the wrong impression that they did something.
Let my feet be in the sight of God,
revealing the callus skin that played as my shoes,
allow my broken hands to be shown,
to sum up how productive I was.
Let them witness, let them believe that I gave up looks to,
create a world where they can be beautiful.
Veil their feet and make their skin nice and smooth.
Adjust their hands in a graceful manner that almost compels you to hold them.
Don’t delude the image of peace at it’s best.
let them be inspired to live pretty lives like those who went before them.
Let my legs be examined. Notice the remains of my essence,
due to the lacerations administered by those who denied my cause.
Please view my tear-stained face.
The true tears of a soldier.
Let them catch a glimpse of my power, and strength to be ugly.
Rub lotion on their limbs and allow them to appear elegant.
To the naked eye make them look glamorous.
Hide their imperfections, clothe their mortal features.
But one thing that can’t be concealed is how pretty a life they lived.
So quiet and calm, their bodies all still and perfect.
How silence doesn’t make any difference to them being alive or dead.
A true waste of God’s gifts. they watched me earn my life,
as they allowed theirs to be seized.
they can have the public eye’s approval, please take it freely.
For I will be ugly.
They can be pretty.
Lit. Mag. Staff
Ye Yee (Mary) Song
Table of Contents
~"Sonnet" by Pavan Dayal (Poetry)
~"The Five Performers" by Javier Flores (Poetry)
~"Don't Forget to Remember" by Jillian Wolstromer (Fiction)
~"Waterfall" by Tianna Perry (Poetry)
~"Bipliophile" by Ye Yee Mary Song (Artwork)
~"In the Dark?" by Maya Tisdale (Poetry)
~"Outcast" by Michaela Gathings (Poetry)
~"I am Woman" by Oluwajoba Ogun (Poetry)
~"Enigma" by Serena Wooten (Fiction)
~"Robbery on the Dusty Road" by Emily Guettler (Fiction)
~"Seasons and Relationships" by Kaylee Kalaf (Poetry)
~"Lullaby" by Caitlyn Doan (Poetry)
~"The Crown" by Olivia King (Fiction)
~"Skull" by Ye Yee Mary Song (Artwork)
~"Dying Ugly" by Maya Tisdale (Poetry)
~"The Haunts of Brynmor House" by Emily Guettler (Fiction)
~"Swamp Town" by Samuel Asabor (Fiction)