Promethia 2002: Low to the Ground Promethia 2002: Low to the Ground Copyright 2002, Oral Roberts University English Department Tulsa, Oklahoma
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Low to tl1e G1·ound It your are interested ln submitting to Promethla. pleue contact: Mitzi Shead ext. 2188 ~I Kyle Erlc!n ext. 3093 Emall: [email protected] Promethia 2002: Low to the Ground Promethia 2002: Low to the Ground Copyright 2002, Oral Roberts University English Department Tulsa, Oklahoma The copyright of the individual contributions remains with the respective authors c 2002. All rights reserved. This journal may not be reproduced in whole or in part without permission. Promethia 2002 is published by Department of English Oral Robens University 7777 South Lewis A venue Tulsa, Oklahoma 74171 Contributions accepted from the students, faculty, staff, and alumni of Oral Roberts University. Cover photo by Joel Blain Editorial Staff Faculty Advisor Dr. Kt!J M,ym Editor-in-Chief Ana Mari.a Cqma Assistant Editors ChriJtab<llt Haff Tmna Balds c,,,.ndQ!,n G/Q.., Photo Editor Bonni, Ri.lxmi Editor's Note Sittmg here tn my humble 2bode facing another ,speer of 6.nabty, I tlunk of what tlus has meant. I find myself contemplating lncamauonal bving and Anruc Dillard's line, "Holiness lies spread and bome over the surface of wnc and stuff like color." It is such a surreal, humble dung to finally have tlus JOutnal to offer ...yet one more attempt at piecing together these fragments that we have shored ag;unst our ruins (th•nlung T. S. Eliot). We know that m truth, it all boils down to life scnbbled on napkins at Denny's and old and new coffee shops before sunnse, and we sec bow 11's all laid open before us like a free museum or an e.,poscd manuscnpt. We blink our eyes in sluny disbelief 21 the foct that somctlung "''" wnrten or visually caprured. And It was good. Somehow, I've taken to calling tlus ycat's version "low to the ground." Rem.inding me bow we're IIltentiooally held down by gravity-not because the sky is heavy-but becau,e every moment we might be lifted into the stratosphere, enfolded III angel wmgs alone and together with Glory Himself. Our true home ... It's• question of g,VU1g and glcan111g all we can while on th.is "terrestrial ball" We walk around with hopeful and hcutbroken souls, secretly knowmg that the conspiracy that Tune plots won't win. We were never made 10 be bound by umc (or even mngled up in our SIIlgular and collccuvc pasts). We recognize ourselves between His hallowed lines and sec how the lines we la.y out and spill onto equally tlun p•per ore just other faint echoes of inhetent replication. We wrap our fingers around our own prophecies III the dying night. Benevolent constcllaoons swing wide ovethcad, we roll over u, our beds, and btc•thc in restless sleep as Jacob keeps dreaming of ladders with angels and wrestles them 10 the ground on a cononual basis. "For surely Thou an a God who hidest Thyself..." Longing to be found, loVIIlg 10 be caught. You mcasu,e out love by the uuckload ..• patiendy waiting for us to get it. And these rocky paths ate harder without You, but we realize that You never intended it to be dus way. And we write to know that we arc not alone. I'm grateful to ,hose of you who were not •fwd to share glunpscs from your world. Especially to The Fellowship and to my wondctful st:aff. Each of you has given more than you possessed. I am all the tichct for havu,g brushed by your cver-walong lives. Ana Maria C•ma, April2002 Table of Contents 2-14-02 (The Sequel) 11 Fapde 20 Adam Drmltr Ja1on Blais S<,lo 13 Frontier of the Heavens: Prologue 21 Ch,iltabtlk Hall M"'!ln Jamu Duet 13 When worlds collide... 23 Chnstabtllt Hall ChriJtabtlk Hall paragraphs on Mexico 14 remembering the approach 24 Matthtw Cbrri,r Ma11hn,, Cmkr may second 16 Just Maybe 25 Jana Swarowod Gwrnd.!Jn Ght!t1' Spotted 18 Bane of 20•• c. 25 Tmna T. Balds ChriJ14bt/l, Hall A Wasted Look 18 Sanity 26 Tmna T. Balds ].,!,,,a Dank,r-DaJ:, Beyond 19 Identity 33 Kimbtr!J Wilso• Sarah L«hwod Illegally Brunette 34 Uotided 45 Joy Maran,i/1, Phillip Gn,w/d Finally. 35 beavenly nigbtligbts 45 Jmira ]011t1 Katit Hoffa Coura.ge 36 cold cold oigbt 46 fas•• Blais Pbillip Gn11Wld Memory's Journey 37 Darker 47 Athky C11mmins Bmjamin Cmmpto• procedure 39 Untided 47 Ma11h,w urdtr G111twdo!J• Ghwr A Strange College Student's Straoge Collage of Last Mouotain 48 KerouacLcwisAdamsAristodcBible 40 Knth G"l"• F. °'!, Smirhtr Uotidcd 49 Living Dcatb by Haoging 42 Phillip Grin,o/d Joy Marrmvilk off tbe gulf at tweoty-one past eight 50 for S. 43 Ma1thnv UJrdtr Jtn Wallo.ff Untitled 52 Someday You'll Waot to Run 43 G1Hndo!J• Ghl'tT jtn lli'atloff Leners Never Sent 53 Someone 61 Ana Maria C()fT'ta M•IJJGi/1 Unlived 53 Holy Spirit 62 J(llfa Swa,n,,ood Rbse Smug,! Shattered 54 Gleam 62 &,,, Sthkgtl Phillip Grin,,o/d The Srreaming ofTruth 55 The Last Call of Eternity 63 Jm Wan.ff Domini, T11n11r Still Watching Snow 56 Call Waiting 65 Adam DnJJ/,r K,itbGo§Zn Heruy 57 the eleventh day 66 AdamDmsl,r Jana Swartwood After a Death 59 s"•car not by stars 67 Ha=•'!J Failh c,.,, Jana s-n,,,oo,J Untitled 59 Me, me Devil, and the English Language 68 c,,,,ndo!,n Gkirttr Josh1«1 Danktr-Dah Mother 60 Gas at S0.01 per ounce 72 Harmo'!J Fai1h Cro11 Amanda Ha// Greenwich Village, October 77 Photograph and Illustration Ana Maria Corna Contributors jot! Bhin Cover, 33, 55 Antt111da Gontallz. 17, 20, 48 Phillip Crinvold 46,56 Amand,, Hall 12, 34, 36, 61 Cw<nl..and 64 Bon11ie Rithard 15, 19, 24, 25, 35, 38, 42, 44, 51, 52, 60 2-14-02 (The Sequel) The empty chrurs in this place scand at ancntion, rigid, like soldiers waiting for someone's wamu.ng scat to rest . ..on sitting at this table, on thou shiny, black cusluons . slightly raised, A cold, February draft swoons 10 and uying co remember things the occasion2lly-opened door of a year ago. as people I don'c know Can l still really be in parnde in and out, the 5'Ulle place as I've seen many times before. yet again? Th.inking here with no one but the smiling waitress I wiU never sec these people again. dabbing into my writing time- And ye~ for one bdef momen~ 2s if she were a refraining line our: lives mtersect, in my W'lstanzacd poem- like passing cars on some dist•nc counuy road. it's clear she doesn't rhyme I would im•gine that Love is like this, (or maybe it is I), cxcepc the parade is only walked by cwo so I leave her 10 leaving me alone. and the people involved just keep walking in and in wd never out. l hear thac this d•y bears us name But each moment still seems brief from a saint. because every intct'$Cction just leads But if honesty were king, l must say further and further down a private road that religion is more of• church-1111d-sceeple thing into a private country reserved and cannot really spe,tk of Cupid's for your Lover :ind you alone. heart-tipped aaows launched Sure, the excitement may come a.ad go into young Loven' sides. like the women calking of Michebngelo, But that's just a thoughc- but the undedying point s!Jlys the same: A bios, perhaps-- you are in love. from this rambling poet's mind. And that ls a trcasu.cc that you can't afford 10 walk away from. I I Agam, the \YaJtrcss comes, this time keenly aware that I'm wriuog somcthmg and, no, I'm not expccong anyone. I put my hand on the outer lip of my coffee cup to let her know that I'm almost through and the check would be fu,e. As for this Valcntiruan d•y-it's wrapping up, 'J.D.d I can't complain,. for tomort0w's poem already £1Js my mind ... Adom Dmsltr 12 Duct Solo ", ..oh tell me ..." Old Blues Man old blues man thousand year song l1l your mouth I just don't know sometimes same old, same old clear black skin "... what did 1 do ..." at SaJDt's /we. and Yale smging to a wb.irlwmd ofLazarus ea,s because nobody tells me unnoo.ced hean:beacs whe.cc I went the songs of life your tune " ... co ~come so... n unbroken by time dreary-weary melodics out of my mind repeated for comfott I guess I just have to stumble Cbristabtlk Hall 0 •• • black and blue .. !• up and down streets to 6nd the answer for myself. Christabtlk Hall 13 paragraphs on Mexico ox,d,zed buildings, nusbegonen brick truths, telling me l! was a gift (the old man and lus guitar) homes, ofall he could show ronen beneath the "a love song for the vt•taf t1melcss flab of narure's cellulite rear dun Amencan'' lltlt~! cvcrytlung disincamaong, 2nd a vision to be sunding behind mat a la drama .•. dunning slowly back to mud fallen ecWice we, the gun shot scanering and w>tcr, sand grams, the baked clay the sun cancering us bolh Oocks of never before seen 1 now step on as bone shards to dust to hear the m:ubled sounds of humaruty humans and life <00 seems far-off arrudst a yellow singing balled 1ears of!us lover, with half-wrecked English glow everywhere and forgonen .•.