Carrie Doron, Self-Portrait, Independent Study
"Some Haikus"
by Derek Sullivan
Yes, I write haiku.
The beautiful flower is -
...Blame five-seven-five.
Light without darkness.
Surely impossible as
Dark without lightness.
We buy and consume.
Liberating creation;
The feeling is lost.
"Science Fiction"
by Derek Sullivan
In the future, cars will drive themselves.
Food will be readily prepared by machines...
Machines whose only concern is man's pleasure--
And pleasure will be man's only concern.
In the future, there will be no sorrow.
Every desire will be fulfilled;
Every want will be instantly gratified.
Covetousness will be obsolete.
In the future, Earth will be a paradise -
Or at least a delightful surrogate.
Oh, surely the future will be perfect,
Even if perfect is so fickle a concept.
Why walk...when we can be driven?
Why cook...when we need only to press a button?
Why work...when all work is done?
Why think...when there is no use for new knowledge?
Why live...when there is nothing to overcome?
Why live?
"The Walking High Heels"
by Corby Myers
I love to wear my red high heels with their adorable, sleek six inch spikes. I decided to wear them today to show them off to my grandma while we were eating our breakfast. After my mom dropped me off at grandma's, I gracefully walked up to the door and quietly let myself into her house.
"Take those high heels off immediately!" my grandmother bellowed.
I was absolutely stunned, but I always obeyed my grandma’s orders. So I took them off, and we sat down to eat our usual Saturday breakfast: over light eggs and home fries.
I asked her why she had demanded me to take off my red high heels. She replied by telling a story. She began with saying that her best friend, Rosemary, always wore seven inch heels and one day she was just walking around the town when her hip suddenly gave out from wearing her high heels all the time.
"At the hospital," Grandma continued, "the doctors told Rosemary that her joint capsule had slipped out from where the joints come together in her hip and that she would have to get surgery. Surgery was bad enough, but it got worse--creepy worse."
Grandma began to speak hoarsely so that I had to lean in close just to hear her.
"Well, Rosemary had just woken up from herhip surgery and to her alarm discovered that she was missing both of her legs. Frantically, she looked to the right to find the button to call the nurse, but instead she saw her legs standing in the corner. They began to twitch and move toward her, walking around her bed ever so proudly in those seven inch heels. Poor Rosemary let out a scream, went into cardiac arrest, and died."
I looked at my red high heels again, this time with a tinge of fright. Perhaps I should not be in such a rush to wear them. I was starting to rethink about wearing them at all, but again they seemed just too adorable and attractive. The fear passed and I knew that we would be together once more--my red high heels and me. Grandma noticed me smiliing, but said nothing. We finished breakfast and drank our coffee. We talked for a little, about how work and school was going, but once again she turned the subject to one of her school chums, Lily.
Grandma had said that she and Lily went out one night to dance.
"We were having the grandest time until Lily stumbled on the dance floor. You see her high heels were too high to dance let alone walk in. Lily stumbled and fell flat on her face, blood pouring out of her nose like water pours out of a faucet. I rushed her into the emergency room, and it was quite a sight to see nurses and waiting patients faint to the left and right when they got a look at poor Lily. When she was finally seen by her doctors, they told her that her nose was severely broken. Removal of the nose was her only option since there was a chance of a widespread facial infection. Such a shame that she goes through life without a nose, so difficult for her to breathe. Poor Lily has had an oxygen tank ever since the incident. Would you like to go visit her today to just drop in and see how she is doing? Maybe we can stop at the store and bring her a box of Kleenex?"
I pleaded with her to take us to lunch instead though finding my appetite would be tough.
At noon, we decided to go to a nice Italian restaurant. We both had a salad, baked ziti, and canolies. Over dessert, my Grandma told yet another horror story. This time it involved her friend Bernice.
"Bernice had always worn heels that came to a point and were always nine to ten inches. Over time, Bernice noticed that her toes were becoming narrower all the time, but she never was concerned. Until one day, when she woke up with only two toes on each foot. She let out a scream and called her doctor. He said that she would never be able to wear high heels again and that he would have to amputate what was left of her feet. Ever since, Bernice has never been able to walk. But at least she and Lily can help keep one another's company like we do, dear."
Grandma's stories were making me think that this could actually happen to me. Were my red high heels really worth a life of footlessness and noselessness or worse? I did hope to eventually start dating.
On the way home, I called my mom to pick me up. I told her all of the stories and she began to laugh. I asked her what was so funny, but she said that I will understand when I become older.
"Grandma had told me the same thing when she was younger...the stories are all made up, dear."
Mom was right. At the time I could not understand why Grandma would make something up so horrible, but now that I am older, I understand that my Grandma just did not want to see me grow up and become more mature. She just wanted me to take care of myself and not get drawn into the world in fashion magazines. Now that my ten year old daughter says that she wants to wear high heels, I am wondering when I might tell her a few of Grandma's tall tales... or if I could make up a few doozies of my own.
Ryan Chrismer, Drawing, Art 3
"Love - A Disease"
by Chris Harris
The most beautiful disease is not creativity,
but Love.
It can cause happiness,
but can also kill.
Love lives in two states,
a state of mind,
and a state of happiness in the heart.
They say there is "real love,"
but will it ever be real for me?
"H u r t"
by Brandi Smith
Life goes on and feelings begin to wander,
But the hurt I have just keeps getting stronger.
Such a perfect life and so little time.
I wish I had the wings to fly through the sky
Just to give a hug, one final goodbye.
The seasons will change from summer to fall,
But my feelings still have not changed at all.
My friend, my buddy, my pal--
The hurt I have for your loss swells with an awful despair.
I will not forget you, my dearest, you see
Because you have left your footprints in my heart...
For eternity.
"Aurum, Argent, Ore"
by Kit BrinkI think maybe I could
Spend hours buried
(sweetly)
in the sheet of copper of
Your hair with its cheap
But familiar perfume.
"Frostbite, Bitemark, Steel Idol"
by Kit Brink
Home has become faint echoes
Of stinging cold and shades of grey
and white
and steel afternoons
of aching bones.
Pain is a reccurring theme.
"Andromeda, Picasso, Chevrolet"
by Kit Brink
Warp and swell with the tide,
Look up at the stars and you're gone.
They give you a pallet
Of pre-approved pastels and neutrals
And expect you to paint a perfect life.
What am I even supposed to be painting?
Look up at the stars and ask
Do I even want to hold this paintbrush?
Can I bear another brushstroke? Another color?
Am I painting inside the lines?
You plaster the wall with your bleeding hearts and say
This.
This is a masterpiece.
This is my life.
My own tiny,
rotting life
torn out
in the
open
"Pity and Glee"
by Derek Sullivan
In his Pity and Glee,
Johnny rose from the sea,
Towards the sky and the
Great, green, epiphany and
The monster below
Said, "Why must you go?"
And he cried tears and tears and tears
Were cried by Johnny's father who wept
For his lost second coming.
But Johnny kept running and running.
Bobby the Baptist exclaimed,
"Boy, you come down now!"
But Johnny refused.
Because Bobby had found
Beautiful Kingdoms of
Bureaucracy and blame
In the good ol' King James'
So Johnny came down never
And never
And never
Again was Johnny seen...
By the birds or the bees
Or the pimps or the wizards
Or the City or me,
So the wizards proclaimed,
Respectfully,
Schizotypy,
In their Pity and Glee.
"This Longing"
by James Farrelly
This longing is the beginning of my end.
This longing that feasts on fires that I tend.
This longing comes to me when I am lost.
Fire within fire, burn away all that is dross.
This longing that inflames the soul of my soul
And forms love in an emptiness and makes me whole.
This longing that flings my paltry words into the calligraphy of skies
Writes me into being, makes songs of my sighs.
This longing that thirds us beyond the coupled riddle,
Sweeps us above and below and threads our seeds within the middle.
This longing that pangs our joys and births our sufferings
Rest here in one heart and be the end of our beginnings.
