Archive > October 2008

Memories of Departure, by Josh Lien

I have been in 4 rooms so far in life

A box of crayons and paper, scattered throughout this room

A hackey sack sitting at the corner

The drapes, tattered with age

An exercise bike only in slight disrepair

And the smell of baked cookies covers the walls

The memories that must have gone through this room

Hundreds of them

Happy, Sad, Sun, and Rain.

I have to part with all of it now

I have to traverse into a new room

Why must we depart

Why is change neccesary yet painful

This room meant so much to me

In that it is a part of the makeup of my soul

It seemed like it was only yesterday that I walked in and sat down,

Laid on the couch and shared a warm dinner that same night

I’m closing the door now

But before I go

I have to be sure to leave a note

For whoever comes in the room next

“Keep things the same

Please don’t change them

Because I may be back in the future”

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Guardian of the Crossroads by Josh Lien

There is a roadway to the Everglades in Florida
If you drive down it, day or night
You will suddenly have a feeling of being completely lost
Your radio will turn to static
Your CDs will skip
If you try to find the map in your car
It will have mysteriously vanished

If you continue down the road for more than a minute
You will find the road pitched black behind you
You cannot turn around and there are no other cars on the road

Continuing down the road you will find a fork
There are no sign posts,
but there is a man in the middle

He will be covered foot to toe
In various clothing from around the world
A turban, dark toga, moccasins, and overalls
The only flesh visible will be that around his eyes

On one side, a sweaty dark black
only found in the remotest African Tribes
On the other side, the fairest of white
only inherited from Scandinavia

You must get out of the car
but leave the engine running
and do not close the door behind you
It will begin to rain

You must approach the man
but stop 3 feet away
You must stand there silently
waiting for him to speak first

He will ask
what of him do you require
Tell him that you need to know
which road will bring you to your destination
He will then ask
what are you offering in exchange for his assistance

If you offer him a ride
him and your car will disappear
and you will become the guardian of the crossroads

If you offer him an umbrella
to shield him from the rain
he will take it
and stab it through your chest

If you offer him your love
he will take it, keep it
and never offer his in return

You must offer him your loyalty
Kneel down before him
It is the only thing any of us can do
and the greatest thing any of us can give

He will close his eyes
and bow in return
and point towards safety

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The Girl, by Simon Xia

Look how she comes

broken and destroyed.

Her trust and heart broken.

Her body abandoned by her lover

for another.

She bleeds as she walks

having no one.

No one will comfort her.

She lets no one in for she doest not trust

She pushes everyone away

destroys her own world

but does not care.

She utterly destroys herself

In the end

 

The weak rise up. And fail again

They are considered strong.

They are not.

He falls into a dark abyss called

life.

Maybe there is a meaning to all this

Maybe no—

Either way it will destroy us.

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Sophia Trinh

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Rosaline Zhang

Stool Art

Stool Art

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Midla Zyzite

Stool Art

Stool Art

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Jiyeon Lee

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Jimmy George

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Old, By Brandt Nevin

Who knows where the wind blows?
When do the seasons change?
Where do the leaves go;
When colour has left with age,
And life is fading quick,
Do birds of song take flight
To Combat the coming of the day and of the night
Age, combatants wield the devil’s walking stick

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15 Minutes of Fame, Brant Nevin

how about 15 minutes of pain
of death of isolation
of the hard cold desolation
of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness
How about 15 minutes of game
of mirth of decimation
of ego of will
of the cold distraught smell of defeat
or 15 minutes of blame
of insecurity and pain
when life is just a game
who cares who you are
or what you become in the long run
it doesn’t matter; it doesn’t matter
what you scored or who you got to splatter
How about; about this; about that
when is your 15 minutes are up
who’s gonna carry your torch,
your flame, and your burden

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