Newspapers / North Carolina Wesleyan University … / Dec. 6, 1985, edition 1 / Page 3
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FRIDAY, DECEMBER 6,1985, THE DECREE, PAGE 3 Diamorpha: An Elegy They ride motorcycles always Interstates, city streets, backroads — Searching garages, pool halls, finding Women without men; forgetting Families, homes for road news, Antique clothes, familiar mistakes With favorite friends. Wild dogs live in packs, birds flock; Diamorpha bleeds through rock — Allowing easy rooting for future plants. Fertile soil kills granite—grown, red-strewn flowers. Too much life is diamorpha—death. Under such rot, he cannot, untwists This Kfe-knot, Not. They live for motorcycles; live, die together. Pavement is black; in black we gather — Bring black cars, motorcycles, clear holy water. Jesus, Lord, adored by us — We sing, chant your resurrection; Seek your inspection; your correction, direction. Lord, Jesus — Feed, guide, abide with, lead, teach us. We praise you! Wild dogs live in packs, birds flock; Diamorpha bleeds through rock. They ride motorcycles always; Searching, forgetting. I rise from diamorpha-fertile soil. — Reggie Ponder, Jr. The Kiss He sets his lips against her lips, Slips his hands down to her waist. Awaits a sudden taste. Finds her kiss like apple pie; Her lips warm, moist, thick. This first kiss hurts worst, delights most. Desire becomes the kiss. He holds the pen between his fingers, Lingers over the thin paper. Awaits his returning Muse, Finds her kiss like water; Her touch cold, bold, hard. This first kiss hurts worst, delights most. Desire becomes the poem. — Reggie Ponder, Jr. In A Time to Come The Dew of the night has settled upon the grass. And the birds begin their singing. I look across the bed and see you Ijdng there, And I smooth the hair gently aroxmd your ear. The passion of our night has fallen into dreams, And the bliss of our climax has become a memory. But the dawn breaks and I love you more. As the memory fills my mind, Of our rough and rumble passion, And the exploding of my mind. So, sleep my love and wake refreshed with the feelings that I feel Of a blissful love of tenderness, That you have made me reall — Cheryl Tuttle What Stage of Faith? What stage of faith at early age Has uncertainty allowed me? conception in the cognitive wine untrue; Holding at the center, the convenience of polarity, of perspective wavering. I remember the singing in the dark. The music of my mind, a wailing in the haze which bound me; Calling to the child, an endless depth forever sounding. I fetl the static of the night, A ringing in my ears, a screaming in the silence that surrounds me; Pulsating in my temple, the fluid uncertainty of my soul. — Robert Spencer
North Carolina Wesleyan University Student Newspaper
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Dec. 6, 1985, edition 1
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