North Carolina Newspapers

    November 12,1987
THE LANCE
page IJ
Quill and Tnk
GROWING UP
Thinking back to the past.
Something we all do,
Yet somehow mine is different.
Looking back on life before college,
As if a different person was there.
I have entered the past.
To try to change what I have done.
Extra knowledge is of no help-
For all mistakes rectified are
Replaced by more intelligent ones.
ROB McLEAN
TO A.L.S.
You are not a dry
memory hidden in
a drawer, like
the dry shell a
locust leaves behind,
but rather, fresh and
substantial, like
an ice-cube or a
rose.
RIZWAN
UNTITLED
Long ago my mind was simple and wild
Vigorous to the thrill of crime and
killing and dreaming of suicide
Myself to die, a better way for the
world to understand my life
Thank God, his kind hand, the heart
of Jesus Christ, always within me
I have realized the joy of living-
The ecstasy of life just a whisper t
hat we must shout... I am alive!
PAUL E. DINKINS
THE WORLD JUST MADE ME CRY
Have you ever cried and won
dered why,
it’s happened to me and I never u-ied.
Tears they roll all down my face,
kiss
my cheek and fall to grace.
I ask again why am I crying, could
it be my happiness dying.
It’s hard to tell, it’s hard to seize,
but the tears that flow bring me ease.
I wipe them away and then I
laugh,
shedding my tears isn’t so bad.
I sit and wonder just asking why.
What in the world just made me cry.
DEVO
THE PATH IS GONE, THE WAY IS
LOST
The world is crashing down as if it were a
damned bowling ball cracking pins.
The sky, our ceiling, has sprung a leak and
pestilence is coming through.
The unicorn has fled from this;
Rainbows are not to be found, at all.
They say you must laugh to stay sane.
But how can you laugh in a world in which
you
can’t find happiness?
Sanity?
What is that?...
Something which is far away.
The unicorn knew to run; his bridge was the
rainbow.
The rainbows knew; they followed the uni
corns.
Can I follow the Unicorns?
Can my soul find its way along the path
without a guide?
My way is lost.
My childhood is gone.
JAMEY DONALDSON
IN GHOST’S COMPANY
There is a ghost that walks St. Andrews
(ghosts walk everywhere)
You know
You have seen him standing
Where a leaf stands in mid-aif
Before he lets it fall '
Yes, you have heard
Him, also.
Running past
A bush to catch up with
Nothin^g
No thing waits for him
Feel him.
Walking through you
He pushes up goose-bumps on your arm
While he mingles with
Your soul
UNTITLED
I think of her often,
[Blue stars tonight dance behind the
cover of rain] looking away
(from whatever could have been there)
into the other direction.
The course changed & the pools became
part of the stream that took away the
banks. (While)
Summer passed by in the forgotten
that stirs (us) in our sleep.
A languid song from the background
spirals into the distant.
[The hot rain fell] & as
the jazz fell through,
it broke right back,
(leaving behind whole shapes
of color)
PAUL BULLARD
SUMMER ON STONE MOUNTAIN
A circle is cast around us in salt
With a lock of hair
and words to the Goddess,
the Moon descends and joins
our souls.
In the cool mountain air
we breathe as one. We stand united;
grounded with energy rising from the
Earth below.
Together we gaze upon the moon,
letting her will entwine our hearts.
Our destiny in this life molds
and is realized.
Once again we are together, my
Lady of the Lake. We stand beneath ,the
Moon, our beings as one.
The wind blows cold through the
trees,
The stars twinkle,
and we are content.
ALMOST HEAVEN
...hand of babies
Ancestors summer
Breath of blacklung
Hands of steel
Night echo of banjo and slide
Rivers motion marks the year
Courthouse whittlers up DeAngelo
Roads ribbon to memories untold
Slag bums
Mail pouch bams
Hard is good
Shine helps
Right...
Right
CHAD HADDIX
UNTITLED
Great big gobs of marshmallows
in my basement
that’s already full of odier nonsensi
cal stuff
given to me by transitory boy
friends
who smoke entirely too much
dope
when picking out presents
NORAMAH BURCH
CAN YOU EVER FIND SOMETHING
YOU NEVER LOST?
Names,
Evoking memories.
Of a long time ago.
But never forgoucn.
Never forgotten.
But never found.
We can never find our futures.
By looking in the past.
MY SON
I never thought he would do it
Strong facial features and a proud smile
My friend was a rational individual.
A bit of a logician.
Here before me, on this day a year ago, sat
a broken man.
Behind his strong sad face lay a limp mind
Exhausted by his intemal struggle to find
What he could have done to make his father
Feel this way about him.
“Friend,” he said to me in a calm voice.
“I have loved you all my life.
My achievements have made you a proud
man.
Last night, on the eve of my seventeenth
birthday,
I became your lover.
My Friend,
My Father,
My Lover.
Why do I feel guilty about who I am and
what I’ve done?”
I could say nothing.
I saw my son crushed by my action.
My once proud friend had become a vege
table.
The result of my morbid revolt against his
manhood.
A stream of useless tears fall from my eyes
The flow is broken by a struggling voice.
“Cry not my father.
This is who I am.
Death calls me to pay my debt for my guilt.”
A year has passed since I’ve wimessed,
through a wall of
Tears,
My friend put a knife through his heart.
Pride is but a mere word to me now.
I struggle with the reality that incest.
Is my reward and mental tattoo for loving
my son.
I long to touch my young friend.
But I feel my heart pinch when I imagine
My son crying at every touch of my hand.
My tears
My son
My friend
My lo...
My loss.
JAMES KRISTIAN DEAL
MICHAEL K. CHAMPION
ROB McLEAN
SUBMITTED FOR RELATIONSHIP
VIOLENCE AWARENESS WEEK OC
TOBER 25-28.
    

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