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2012 Edition

Cleveland State Community College

ENGLISH DEPARTMENT

Editor: Julie Fulbright
Assistant Editor: Heather Cline Liner

Front cover photography by: Amanda Guffey

Graphic Design and Production: CSCC Marketing Department
Printer: Dockins Graphics, Cleveland, T e nn.
Copyright: 2012
Cleveland State Community College www.clevelandstatecc.edu
All Rights Reserved

Funding for this publication provided under Title I of the Carl D. Perkins Career and Technical Education Act of 2006. CSCC HUM/12095/04092012 - Cleveland State Community College is an AA/ EEO employer and does not discriminate on the basis of race, color, national origin, sex, disability or age in its program and activities. The following department has been designated to handle inquiries regarding the non-discrimination policies:

Human Resources P.O. Box 3570
Cleveland, TN 37320-3570 [email protected]

Table of Contents

Written By

Frankie Conar Brittney Glover

  • Title
  • Photo/Drawing By:
  • Page

After the Storm Weep for Me
Julie Fulbright James Loyless Amanda Guffey
56

  • 7
  • Leaves of the Sea

  • Mother
  • Stormy Fisher
  • 8

Savannah Tioaquen Tracey Thompson

  • I Am the Wind
  • Brandon Perry

Amanda Guffey Megan Payne
9

  • Rose
  • 10

  • Mirror Mirror
  • 11

Tonya Arsenault

Angel Jadoobirsingh Cody Thrift

  • Siblings
  • Marchelle Wear

Kimberley Stewart Angel Jadoobirsingh Angel Crawford Misti Stoika
12-13 14-15
16
We Can’t Go Back in Time Spying

  • My Pay
  • 17

Through Solemn Eyes I Had a Dream I Died The Hero
18

  • Alonzo Bell
  • 19-20

21-22
23
Tonya Arsenault

  • Angel Jadoobirsingh
  • Nicholas Johnson

Chet Guthrie
Such Is Life Turn the Lights Out The Window by the Tree

Christmas on the Battlefield

Sweet Kalan
24
Marchelle Wear Amanda Guffey Tonya Arsenault Marchelle Wear Marchelle Wear Marchelle Wear Daniel Stokes
25
26-29 30-34 35-37 38-42 43-44
45
The 23rd Psalm Letters through the Fence Grandfather’s Axe Her Beauty In the Eyes of a Dreamer Rise o’ Rise Dear Wall Street The Old Man

  • Megan Payne
  • 46

47
Michael Espinoza Shanna Calfee
48

  • A Night of Passion
  • 49-50

Table of Contents - Cont’d.

Written By

Chet Guthrie

Title

Literature’s Anti-Christ Autumn

  • Photo/Drawing By:
  • Page

51-52
53
Natasha Clark Amanda Guffey

  • Children Dancing in the Rain Natalie Goleman
  • 54-55

56-58
59

  • Hannah
  • Hailey Yeargan

  • Nancy Boyd
  • Caoseth Roanoke

Alyssa Whaley
All Again

  • Collage
  • Mercedes Smith

Amanda Guffey Amanda Guffey Richard Harris Amber Walker Kyle Brogden Marchelle Wear Dannette Wright Nancy Boyd
60
Nature at Its Finest Laissez Faire Through My Eyes In the Mind of an Addict The Funeral
61 62 63 64
Christy Wells-Reece

Dannette Wright
65-66 67-69
70
Life Thunderstorms

  • My Sister
  • 71

Letter Poem Repetition Poem Sugar on My Pillow Neyland Stadium Forever 27

  • Sheila Bates
  • 72

Tonya Arsenault Tasha Lowe
73

  • Raina Terry
  • 74

  • Shelby Bishop
  • Shelby Bishop

Shelby Bishop
75 76
A Robot Named William Who Was Wired Wrong
Tyler Brock
Marchelle Wear

Sarah Kirkpatrick
77
A Day in the Life of a Mouse

  • at the Zoo
  • 78

79 80 81
Coining Someone’s Life Through the Clouds For I’ve Loved You

  • Tammy Trew
  • Tonya Arsenault

Amanda Guffey

After the Storm

Frankie Conar

Raging winds of adversity came bearing down,
And tossed my life around like stubble. Tragedy shook me until my soul was weary
But I will pull my life from its rubble.

I will scream and shake my fist at catastrophe

And not be beaten down by her blow.
Thunder, lightning, and storm may rage about me,

As I’m pulled by my troubles that ebb and flow.

A new tomorrow comes with each dawning Darkness is lifted, morning covered with dew. Rising from the ashes of my broken dreams I will grieve, and then build my life anew.

Reclaiming the broken pieces tossed about
My existence will slowly take form.
My bruised heart will never be the same,
But I have weathered the storm

Fresh mounds of earth, flowers scattered round

With God’s help, I’ll be resilient and strong.
I will bare my grief with quiet dignity And hold my head high for life goes on.

Battered by the winds of destruction I am bent, but not totally broken. Rising up inside my ravaged heart

My resolve I hear firmly spoken

From the strong ragging spirit within,
“I will survive and one day I will smile again.”

This poem by Frankie Conar was written after the tornado outbreak on Wednesday, April 27, 2011. Cleveland, TN, was one of the many towns hit across the south. This poem is a tribute to the spirit of the people in our area who are picking up the pieces of their lives.

Photo by: Julie Fulbright

5

Weep for Me

Brittney Glover

Weeping Willow crying in the rain Your leaves droop so gracefully.
Your branches swaying in the cooling wind; Your leaves coal black and dark with sin. You give me chills that race up my spine

As your leaves and branches fly.

You reach for me with a thousand screams.
You bring me deep into your dreams.
Your bark cold and gray
Next to it lies my solemn grave.

Photo by: James Loyless

6

Leaves of the Sea

Brittney Glover

The leaves above my head, Moved like waves in the sea.
Shifting in the wind,
Sunlight danced upon the leaves. So beautifully they gleamed, In different shades of green. How soft they seemed, Like the crest of the sea.

Photo by: Amanda Guffey

7

Mother

Stormy Fisher

What does it mean to be… Protector, defender…
Mother? Mother? Mother?
Warrior.
Performer. On demand.
In love.
Fighter. Dancer.
Acrobat, juggler… Questioned, answerer… Whisperer, cuddler…
First responder.
Mother?

Song singer.
Mother?

8

I Am the Wind

Savannah Tioaquen

I am the wind in which the air you breathe I am the wind that soars across the sky

I am the wind that flows across the nation

I am the wind that takes pride in I am the wind who defends I am the wind all in one
I am the wind that will never stop
I am the wind that is strong I am the wind in which you love With the wind she will stay strong, With the wind she will be great, With the wind she will keep soaring.
I am the wind

Photo by: Brandon Perry

9

Rose

Tracey Thompson

We started as just studying in class.
Who would have thought that our friendship would last?
“Best Friends Forever!” That is what we would say.
Should forever end, in just one bad day? Please take this letter and enjoy your rose. I pray that our friendship forever grows!

Photo by: Amanda Guffey

10

Mirror Mirror

Tracey Thompson

If Snow White had a brother, instead of an evil stepmother
It is you he would be, no one else as fair as thee Hair as black as the night, skin so fair tis almost white
Mirror Mirror on the wall I will wait. Will he call?
I see you watching me, you see me watching you too.
Eyes so deep, if I look, I’ll fall.
Our computer chats were the best of all.
You talk to someone not knowing.

But, then you find out it’s me, so you got to be going.

Mirror Mirror on the wall,
I couldn’t wait. I just had to call.
Take my advice, before taking yours, I would think twice.
You complain and moan that you are all alone,
Heck, here I am, just take me home.
I will remember you forever, But I will not wait forever Mirror Mirror on the wall,
I did not wait, and he never called.

Drawing by:   Megan Payne

11

Photo by: Marchelle Wear

Siblings

Tonya Arsenault

little brother, i’m so sorry for not acting like i should

for the yelling and the fighting

for not helping when i could for projecting all my frustrations onto such a sweet little man the guilt that weighs me down inside sometimes makes it hard to stand you were so much smaller and you were only a kid too i should have been your guide, your friend but i hurt you through and through little brother, i’m so sorry

for those many selfish years

i promise to be a better sister and use the future to wipe your tears little sister, i’m so sorry for not always being there you needed me many times but i wasn’t always aware

12

sisters are supposed to be friends and for a short time we were i miss that short time in my life for that you can be sure i’m not a perfect person and i’ve never claimed to be

i have shown my many flaws to you

and have hurt you so bad, i see i have made some big mistakes along our sibling road i’ll always pay for them they are a heavy toll little brother, i’m so sorry for not giving the best advice we were right there with each other through most of that childhood strife i should have been setting an example but instead i was making a big mess i should’ve been showing you what was right of me you probably thought less and less little brother, learn from my mistakes don’t do what i did wrong i know i was the oldest one but you have always been strong see all that i messed up on and take it all to heart all the trouble i got into please don’t you ever start dear siblings, i’m so sorry for not being a better sister to you the kind you can look up to the kind you love through and through i hope you’ve gained triumphs through my failures and learned good through my misdeeds i hope the crooked path i lead shows you what kind of life to lead i also hope you really know how much i truly love you how much i’m willing to make amends just how much i’m willing to do i’ve grown to be a better person please forget the old me if you can dear siblings, i’m so sorry please see the real person that i am

13

We Can’t Go Back in Time

Tonya Arsenault

I rub cream into my hands
And I wonder where time has gone I stare down at those sore hands
They’ve been there since life has begun
I try and think of all the things I’ve struggled, made it through The wear and tear it’s made on me
And others around me too

Sometimes I wish I could Go back to a simpler life But we just can’t go back We can’t go back in time

Back when things were simple
Back when kids could have some fun Mom would turn us loose and let us play Say be back before the day was done I wish things always stayed so simple I wish things always stayed so safe The things I did when I was younger
I just can’t let my kids do today

One day I’m getting ready for school
And it seems like just the next
I have a husband and a house full of kids
And I never get any rest

I find I worry about everything

The big things and the small The house, the kids, the dogs,
I’m the mother of it all
Make dinner, do the laundry
Pick up that big mess
Come on kids, let’s get ready You’ve all got ball practice
What are those dots on your face, Mom?
And all of those really thin lines
Are they from making silly faces at us
Or frowning too many times?

Sometimes I wish I could Go back to a simpler life But we just can’t go back We can’t go back in time

14

Sometimes I wish I could go back Go back where things were easy
Go back where things made more sense
Go back with no more wrinkles
And a little bit more rest

But then I wouldn’t have what I do now I wouldn’t have my kids and my good man Yes I know the things I would also be missing
My wrinkles and my sore hands

The things I would be doing without
Don’t outweigh what I would be giving away
So as far as going back in time Well I think I’d prefer to stay

Photo by: Kimberley Stewart

15

Spying

(A Narrative Poem) Angel Jadoobirsingh

Avoid the squeaking square, make sure, the time of night step only on support beams, just there the door opens slowly with a low, and grinding squeak.

Cringing at the noise, breaking silence in the still night as I crack the door open, making no noise as I slip silently into the room.

Drawings by: Angel Jadoobirsingh

The smell of baby, of gel, paste, drying art.
Carefully place each foot, to maybe avoid the weak structure points

A sigh, one of relief, and dark eyelashes lying against cheeks, a small, beautifully sculpted hand lying on the pillow by her face.

Her small nose, while her full lips are caught in a small smile for a pleasant dream

Beautiful, my child, Glowing with youth. Lying in her bed Breathing, and forever growing, alive and blissfully asleep.

16

My Pay

Angel Jadoobirsingh

Photo by: Angel Crawford

You take away my humanity replace it with a gun. You take away my happiness replace it with discipline with a sense of honor, you give me the right to kill

You train me to be a killer you take away my wife you murder my home, my life and I accept it gratefully with duty and with honor.

Then take away my pay my art, the ability to help my family survive our way, I’m not home, I’m gone, You’ve made me a killer, then you take away my loyalty, by taking away my home, my family’s food, my wife and my child.

You made me a killer, then took away my inspiration to kill. I learned this deadly craft that you taught me. And then you take it all away. Remember this, though, you reap what you sew.

17

Through Solemn Eyes

Cody Thrift

Through solemn eyes I watch
As my brethren are destroyed around me.
We are helpless to these machines,
We cannot do anything As we are hacked to pieces,

Thrown into the fire,

Decimated beyond extinction.
They say to themselves,
“They’ll multiply and re-grow. Then we won’t have to feel bad
For destroying them all.”
But they do not realize that they are wrong.
We are becoming scarce
As their own greed consumes not only us But them and the world around them.
They need us to sustain life And once we are gone, Soon, they will be too.

Photo by: Misti Stoika

18

I Had a Dream I Died

For Rachel

Cody Thrift

I had a dream I died And was lifted up into
The Heavens. I saw a vast and

Magnificent sight

That is the world. The Lord came to me,
And noticed my Awe at the sight. He said to me,
“All of this before you
I have made. Now I ask you, Which do you love most? Is it the mighty ocean Who roars against all Its adversaries?” I reply to the Lord,
“No my Lord. It is not the
Mighty ocean.”
“Then is it the forests, calm and
Vast in their entirety?” Still gazing out upon the Wonderment of the world, I reply, “No my Lord, it is Not the vast forests.”
“Then is it the majestic void Known to man as space, With all its mysteries and Questions whose answers Are unbeknownst to man?” “Now my Lord, it is not the Void that is space that I
Love most of Your creations.” “Is it the stars, whose beauty Man envies every day?” He asks.
“It is not the stars, my Lord.”
“Then, pray tell, My Child, what It is you love most of all My
Creations.”
I continue to gaze out upon

The world, when my eyes fix

19

Upon what I love most. “My Lord,” I inquire, “the Creation I love most is That girl. She is the Wonder I love most.”
“Why is a mere girl the Thing you love most, My
Child?” asks He.
“My Lord,” I say, “to me, she Is no mere girl. To me, she is As mighty as the ocean, As calm as the forests, As mysterious and majestic As the Void, as beautiful As the stars themselves. She is my heart, my soul,
My very being.
She is the love of my life.”

Photo by: Alonzo Bell

20

The Hero

Cody Thrift

“Mom, I want to be a hero,” the boy said.
The mother smiled, and put her hand on his head And replied “I’m sure you will be one day, honey.” He claimed that he did not want a lot of money
But wanted to save people from death

Until his final breath.

Ten years later, the boy was older, And his ambitions were much bolder.
The disease, however, that crept inside him all his life

Had finally decided to cause him strife.

He collapsed one day, and they rushed him to the ICU;
His face had turned an awful hue
Of white. Sweat beaded on his forehead,
And his mother, crying, said
“Why? Oh why?” “Mom, don’t cry,” The boy said to her.
His speech had already begun to slur. Instead, she cried and cried some more While the doctors stood beside the door.
“Ma’am there’s not much we can do. None of the doctors have a clue About this disease, you see,” The doctor said sympathetically.
“He’s only got about an hour to live. And if you think you could give Us his body so we can study him, I believe there might be a slim

Chance of finding a cure.”

The thought seemed obscure
But she consented and, within the hour
The boy passed and gave the doctors the power

To find a way to heal the sick,

And they accomplished it rather quick. Five years later, the boy was long gone.
And every day, an hour past dawn
The mother wakes and remembers her son And all of the wonderful things he had done.
“My son, you got what you dreamt of.
You always told me you would always love To be a hero, who saves the people from death

21

Until your final breath.

You achieved it, dear boy. You have saved
People, even past your days
And became a hero like you wanted to.”

Photo by: T o nya Arsenault

22

Such Is Life

(A Haiku)
Nicholas Johnson

A long heartfelt walk A walk to the old oak tree Where I then will lay

Photo by: Angel Jadoobirsingh

23

Turn the Lights Out

Nicholas Johnson

(A satire supporting the Stop Online Piracy Act Blackout of January 2012)

We have come to our end My fellow pirates and I We raped and we pillaged The world wide web high

We turn out the lights

Now as we fight

We lower our colors
To show the world we were right

They’ll see without us That they stand all alone
No Google or Wiki or Youtube their home

Turn your lights out so old SOPA don’t see
Just what it’s like without you and me

Lower the flags

And tell all your men
We won’t tell them anything
Ever…… again

That’s what it’ll be as we stand shackled and cuffed on our way to the headsman to call our last bluff

we, the pirates, have stood our fair ground this is our last stand this is the last round

so turn off the lights and hold your breath tight if old SOPA wins

we’ve fought our last fight

24

The Window by the Tree

(A Personification Poem)

Nicholas Johnson

I view two directions Yet I see everything The light and the dark
Your hopes and your dreams
I’ve seen you for years
Yet you see right through me
Such is my purpose The window by the tree

Photo by: Marchelle Wear

25

Photo by: Amanda Guffey

Christmas on the Battlefield

Chet Guthrie

I stood there half beaten in a muddy, bloody trench made from the tears, sweat, blood, and thicket of December snow as it fell on the quiet western front. The trenches

were filled with a murky soup, made from the souls of the soldiers who had died early

years before, serving their nations, dying with the honor of being buried in the trenches as they were gassed, shot, and stabbed. The war was nearing its end, however; the imperial axis powers were falling; falling with the utter stubbornness that had fueled its war machine that led to a hell on the European continent, as well it made a larger commotion on the earth. The weather was a bitter cold as my men huddled together, listening to the sirens scream to run into no-man’s-land and shoot, stab and gas, unknowingly wondering if we ourselves would come back alive. The siren rang and we

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