Superstition -Monica Wei

It was the year of my 12th birthday, and according to the Chinese zodiac, it was my year. The Year of the Pig, which I was born in 12 years ago. To most Chinese people, I would be considered a very lucky person. My own birthday was on August 8th, and the number 8 is the luckiest number in China. That's why the Beijing Olympics started on 8/8/08. The number 6 is also considered lucky, and I weighed 6.6 pounds when I was born. But while being only 11 years old at the time, I naturally believed that 2007 would be the best year of my life. But my supposedly lucky year seemed to show that all these superstitions make no guarantee; except the guarantee to be misleading.

My parents wanted me to stay in China longer for summer break so I could improve my Chinese. Two months, they decided should be enough. So yes, I stayed in China from the day school ended to the day before my birthday. My dad came with me to stay for a few weeks and to visit his parents, and then my mom came to visit her siblings. But just the week that my mom arrived, a tragedy hit our family.

My mom's sister-in-law has been diagnosed with ovarian cancer for over a year. I wasn't exactly that close to my aunt, but I loved her and she was always nice to me. I guess it never really dawned on me that she might die, because I didn't think her cancer was that bad. And it wasn't, at first. So the week my mom came back to China wasn't the best vacation time she has spent. Right when she came, she started going on and off to the hospital, visiting my aunt and returning with news. But the news they brought back weren't intended for my ears. My parents only let me visit my aunt once at the hospital, but I didn't really talk to her much. Everyone knew what was coming. But I failed to realize that even though my year was supposed to be lucky, terrible things could still happen.

After that, my parents didn't let me go visit again. I'd pass the hospital sometimes when going somewhere else, but that was about it. When my parents returned, I'd ask them how it was, but they didn't say much. But one day I didn't even have to ask. My parents came in slowly, their eyes glued to the floor, avoiding my gaze. No one made eye contact or said a word. Utter silence. My mom finally found the courage to pick her head up and give me the news.

"She's dead." Her voice was barely a whisper, but I could sense her words. She's dead. The words rang in my ears. It was unbelievable to me. Her death was so hard to accept that I couldn't even cry. Suddenly, my anger blazed before me. Why didn't my parents just let me see her one last time? I knew I might've been too young to understand, but I had never known anyone that died before. And at that moment, all I did was stand there dumbly, wondering what a person like me would do in this situation. Should I sob uncontrollably in the open? Or run to my room and cry in silence? I didn't know what to do.

Her funeral was a few days later. All of the kids wore white sashes on their heads, to symbolize the color of death. We each set flowers on the table, and offered food for her spirit. But the worst part was when she got cremated. That's when I started to realize that my aunt was dead. I would never be able to see her gentle face again. I would never be able to hear her voice call for me, just to sit by her bed and hold her hand. She would never walk, talk, or smile sweetly at me ever again. I turned away from the crowd watching the deed, and felt guilt and regret. Why didn't I talk to her more often when I had the chance? Why didn't I feel grateful for every minute I spent with her when she had cancer? This was supposed to be my lucky year. But my trip to China had only brought tears, anger, and made me desperately homesick.

During the actual funeral, my mom took me away so I could sit on the stairs and cry. I could hear my cousin sing mournfully in the background, and I smelt paper money being burned. I felt bad for my cousing, because she had just gotten engaged a few days before her mother passed away. I noticed the ashes of my aunt, in a tiny wooden box about to be placed into the grave. And then I realized that all of this Chinese Zodiac, my lucky year, and the lucky numbers on my birth certificate were all just a bunch of false beliefs strung together to give people something to believe in.

Don't depend on superstitions, I told myself as I felt a tear run down my cheek. It'll let you down.

The Satisfaction of a Scarf- Monica Wei

Eva got the scarf for her 20th birthday. It was 8 feet long, white, knit, and braided. The tassels on the end were fuzzy, and the scarf was extremely thick. Her reaction to the present was nothing ecstatic, because it was simply just a scarf that her aunt bought for her. She gave it a thoughtful look, and then wrapped it around her neck. Eva was somehow attracted to the scarf that day, and she started to wear it all the time.

Eva was always paranoid, from the day she was born. During school she would walk the halls particularly fast and squeeze her books to her body. She would look side to side constantly as if someone was going to attack her any minute. No one ever knew what was wrong with her. Whenever someone even looked at her, she kept a blank face and stared at the ground. Eva had never been seen smiling.

She lived in New York city but always hated it there. You'd wonder how anybody could hate New York. There's movie premieres, fancy shops and many museums. But the smells of garbage, filthy subways, and the noise of traffic anoyed her every minute of the day. Eva couldn't leave; she had no money to move and her entire family llived in the city. Besides, she couldn't leave her job. The only place she really felt safe was aat work. Eva was a librarian, and she liked how everything was quiet. She also enjoyed the fact that thousands of books filled her presence, with not many people.

But ever since Eva got that scarf, she started to wear it covering most of her face; covering her nose to shield the smells, covering her ears to stop all the noise. She started to feel a little better about New York, but then hated it more because she couldn't shield away everything. She would walk down the streets covering her ears with a scared face staring at the ground.

About a month after her 20th birthday, Eva was walking home after work. It was barely past midnight. The scarf was wrapped around her neck and covered her face, as usual. She was staring at the ground. She didn't cover her ears this night though because it was already too quiet. Eva just passed a huge dumpster when a dark figure came behind her. Of course she didn't notice; she was too secured by her scarf to realize someone was following her. There was no one around for at least 3 blocks. All of a sudden, the dark figure wrapped his arm around her neck, dragging her down towards the ground. His attempt to strangle her was unsuccessful from the start; her scarf was wrapped too many times around her neck to stop her breathing quickly.

Eva panicked. She tried to rip his arm free, but he was too strong. She couldn't scream because his other hand was covering the scarf that was covering her mouth. Running out of ideas, she tried to bite his hand through her scarf. She bit down as hard as she could, and the man suddenly pulled his hand away, shrieking in pain. Eva pulled her scarf off her face and grabbed the ends. The man tried to come towards her again, but she was ready. She threw the scarf around his neck and pulled it tight. He was choking and thrashing, trying to pull it way, but she just pulled the scarf tighter. It was a struggle; but the man finally lay limp with the scarf tied to his neck. Eva dropped him to the ground. His face was on the ground; his body was all contorted. She stared at him with a blank face. Showing no fear or remorse, she untied the scarf from his neck and put it back on. The scarf was wrinkled, and had a drop of blood on it where she bit the man. But it didn't matter. She covered her face with it, put her hands in her pockets, and continued walking with her eyes to the ground.

As she walked away, the corners of her mouth lifted up, and her lips were scrunched. Would that even be considered a smile? No one knows. But one thing that we do know...she was satisfied.

Eye See The Truth- Monica Wei

To Live, to Fly- Diona Humes-Jamison

Odes never address the working man
Lord knows, of all people, he deserves one.
Working overtime and can still lend a hand
All work and no play, when does he get to have fun?
Maybe you're a big time corporate exec:
Swiftly passing judgement,
But won't cut the right check.
Guess the more pressing issue was the dollars unspent.
No budget for non necessities, paycheck to paycheck.
Conflict after conflict, yes, this was his life.
When everyone's your competition and it's all neck and neck,
Do you know what it's like?
To work, to strive, to live, to fly;
There's no other code I'd rather live by.

Mark You as Mine - Sabrina Callan

You had caught me off guard
The one with the focus
And the working pencil
Who’s two ears grab the air
Catching each word spoken.
I am to wonder
Could I assert my claim?
Mark you as mine

You must have been somewhere
Under my little nose,
So that when I looked down
I did perceive your hands,
So that when I looked up
I did perceive your eyes-
Those diminutive gems
Rarest alive

Chemical reaction
Some sort of strange glow
From your eyes into mine
Chemical reaction
That burns up my body
Not to be implosive
But to be pouring out
Through affection

If the gems aren’t in sight
The burning feels changed
With no outlet but sighs
And endless daydreaming.
I drift to a day spent with you,
Walking or laughing or holding,
Any moment spent with you,
A real go-getter for the good

Dare You To Tread Upon This Path? - Caleb Scott

Dare you to tread upon this path, my friend?
To walk that line which hath so many slain?
Think you yourself to spare from that same end,
Escape with pleasure, lacking cost or pain?
Aye, my feet too have trod that shadowed track
My eyes into the mirror’s glamour stared.
If no more learnéd man may turn you back,
Then heed a brother’s warning, or prepare
To stand awash in crimson testament
To all that in your hunger you have spent.

Prey - Anonymous

Can salt ever be such as sweet?
As a blooming rose in mid-may,
Or water ever hold the heat?
As beauteous entwined bodies lay.

Nay! Salt is pungent, water cold,
Its depths are deep and midnight black.
But that is how it keeps its hold,
Its beautiful mysteries do attract.

The sun, it sets, its hollowed rays,
Turns to one with the ocean blue.
Fire red and deep purple lays
Across the sky with solemn hue.

And night! Oh night! The chilling night,
Bathed in the silver of the moon
In its reflection filled with might,
When Heaven, stars, and sea commune.

But soft! Take care, just hear my final pleas.
I fell as prey to the call of the seas.

Anachronism - Caleb Scott

Accursed be this wretch, afflicted with
McClane's sad fate - to find myself entrapped
In time and place so poorly fit for me.
Allow me, pray, to ride unbound and free
Abroad in vast uncharted, deathless plain;
To live for death, for life by pen and steel
Made meaningful, in honor proud to die;
O for the chance to kneel in high regard
And swear to noble monarch noble life,
In days when King was more than crown alone,
And death and life so intimately known.
Give me the chance to live that dying may
Be but a worthy end to well-lived day.

The Blood - Aaron McAndrew

Even some friv’lous vice can burn.
My heart hath tasted hell and knows
That through the Blood is quarter earned.

Most life lessons are hard way earn’d;
And despite our face we cleave our nose.
Only through Blood is quarter earned.

Over squalls of mercy have we yearned.
Too easy to soil the snow.
Even some friv’lous vice can burn.

And when it seems as if we’re spurned,
The squall comes ‘gain, the grace doth flow.
Only through Blood is quarter earned.

And so we suffer, our souls churned.
Easy and smooth life never goes
‘Cause even friv’lous vices can burn
And through the Blood is quarter earned.

In Only Death - Aaron McAndrew

In only death will I be free
From haunting dreams of twilit shores?
(Where first I trapped you inside of me.)

Or from the fact that I can’t see
Past crimson bruises, scarlet sores?
In only death will I be free?

In filthy colors I find such glee;
Watching them as they leak out pores.
(It happens when you’re inside of me.)

At night I hear the jade banshee
Wail out her cries of locked doors.
In death will she (and I?) be free?

I wish I’d be the cold, black sea
That doesn’t mind man’s probing oars.
But no, you’re still trapp’d inside of me.

If only I could find the key
Without getting down on all fours.
I guess in only death I’m free
From the world that’s trapp’d inside of me.

Voluntary Madness - Aaron McAndrew

If I can only have you in a dream
Then have I will, in spite of sanity.
For even if things won’t be as they seem,
I’ll still have your love, sham as it may be.

In the world beyond my skull we’ll die
But in my skull our passion never wanes.
Imagination keeps desire nigh
And conj’rings of the mind are sweeter pains.

Yet madness voluntary’s madness still;
And conj’rings though desired aren’t true.
For madness oft drives righteousness to kill
And afterward bids blameless men to rue.

If only you would love me like you could
Then maybe I could love you like I should.

Venus - Aaron McAndrew

I love you as I love a sculpture Greek;
An art of yore when beauty reigned o’er all.
I love you, love, with all the love I seek;
And if’t be sin, I’ll love until I fall.

Claim me, Venus, in alabaster boughs.
Hold me hostage in your sapphirous eyes.
You’re the means which my libido allows
Itself to feast; my true urge, my grand prize.

Can you not see how I long? How I pine?
I love you more than any woman dare
Or any man confess. You should be mine
To have if fairness made sense anywhere.

Yet, alas, fairness hangs on gallows cold;
And evil resides in your master’s gold.

Prose - Majed Diab

As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
I will march forever in step with my brothers in arms
For we were those ancient Spartans of Greece
Who only when faced with death did they find peace
That fed their insatiable appetite for war
For we were the feared legionaires of Rome
Whose reign expanded to rule most of the known world
Whose fighting skills were unmatched in battle
Whose thunderous footsteps were heard miles 'round like stampeding cattle
But most of all, we are those Few
Who will travel where most men's minds would go askew
Who will PT to the ends of time because only we can
Whose insanity is that of legend
Whose tradition is timeless and will never die
We are the Proud
Who will defend our nation against any odds
Who will fight any fight and will never lose
Who will stand nose to nose with death and spit in his face
Who would die for their brothers alongside them
We are the Always Faithful
Who will never forget whence we came
November 10th, 1775 was our fateful birth
In Tun tavern a brave 100 signed
And since then we have guarded our nation tireless and strong
That wear the eagle of this country
That bear the anchor - our naval beginnings
And in the grasp of eagles' claws
Is teh world we will always hold
For in our hearts a brotherhood is born
Of blood and tears and of a loyalty unsurpassed
For we are and will always be
That indomitable Spirit of War
That stands unharmed against the test of time,
The men who walk unafraid of death
The purpose of life - uncovered
A legacy inalienable
That makes us who we are
That which is beyond man
We Are Marines.

An Ode to Moms - Majed Diab

To you, to you, to only you
I give my life to only you
Yes you, yes you, yes only you
My little babe, Yes only you

The stars twinkle for only you
The moon, it glows for only you
The sun, it shines for only you
The world, it turns for only you

My love, my heart to only you
My whole wide world, yes only you

These are the things a mother says
To her child, every single day

No matter what, no matter how
A child makes her mother proud
In sports, in school, in every way
Or even in a Shakespeare play!

And though a mother's life is hard
Just know that she's your tireless guard
To protect you, against all strife
To see all your dreams come to life

These are the things a mother hopes
These are the things a mother wants
These are the things a mother flaunts
That you'll succeed, a mother knows

So just be greatful, just thank her
She's there for you when you need her
She knows what best, she knows it all
She'll never ever let you fall

So thank you Mom for all you do
I'm really glad that I have you
And though I don't say every day,
Mommy I love you, for always.

Red Eyes - Aaron McAndrew

Oh, it runs through my hands, and oh
It trickles down my mouth; ice on fire.
It burns like sin, red like Satan’s pyre.
If it’s yours, let it be mine. Let scarlet flow.

Life and pleasure and sin are red.
We drink each other in until we’re dead.

See, the chalice of my heart’s before you;
I ache to see you flushed and wanting.
Hold the gilted edge to your lips; veins sing.
Drink in my curse, our lust is true.

Life and pleasure and sin’s the key.
We drink each other in until we’re free.

Your skin’s red and slick with passion.
I gave you a sip and you took the rest.
Your teeth graze my neck, my hands claim your chest,
And we have no need for absolution.

Life and pleasure and sin’s all ‘round.
We drink each other in ‘til we’re unbound.

Villanelle - Majed Diab

Have you ever danced in the rain?
And feel yourself fall through it all
Just know it's safe and love again

Have you ever loved in twain?
Blind-folded, trusting you won't fall
Have you ever danced in the rain?

To take the risk and trust in vain
To 'llow yourself that romantic call
Just know it's safe and love again

For what is love but math that's slain
For two does one plus one not equal
Have you ever loved in the rain?

Feel the rush of a beautiful brain
Embrace your feelings and walls will fall
Just know it's safe to love again

Feel the cold pour through your veins
And hear the endless water roll
Have you ever danced in the rain?
Just know it's safe and love again

Mom- Anonymous

Every time snow fell
Blanketing our home with hope,
You brought out our sled,
Put me on your back,
And raced us down the hill.
Your cheeks cherry red with cold,
Your smile emblazoned in my
Little, trusting heart.
Full of joy and security,
I lugged the sled back up
The steep hill
So I could soar back down
Attached to you.
The wind seared our faces
With whippet cold,
But we didn't mind:
We were one,
As we had been before
I struggled forth a few
Years earlier, my ccries of fear and pain
As loud then as my hilarity on the sled.

Years later,
It was silence that assaulted my senses.
You lay there as still as
The humid summer day
That it was.
I stared so hard at you;
At frail Whiskey Sours,
Now as silent and still as you.
Still.
And with that silence
You stole those
Halcyon snowsled days,
Those brisk happy odes to merriment,
And Trust,
And slammed them into
Eternal Oblivion
Beyond Memory, on the Other Side of
Reason and Love.
It's funny how
One impulsive Act
Can drain the happiness out of a Lifetime.
Now when snow falls,
My children's laughter seals for a time
The vicious wound of reminiscence-
And I smile with my eyes,
If not my heart.

The Torrent - Aaron McAndrew

I must compare thee to a sunny day.
But I'd rather much more the torrent, the tempest.
Your being is a wind promising rain, some fury faraway.
And I'm the one on these cliffs screaming. (I seem to be possessed.)

Don't you know my fields are dying?
Or that you've driven me insane?
I need water. My tears, they are drying.
And I fear that I'll die and never thirst for you again.

Bring on the thunder, the lightning, the wind.
Show me your fury, your madness, your greed.
In your maelstrom I smile that I've sinned
The gale is too strong, I go where you lead.

Only after you leave and I see what you've done
That I fall on my knees and raise my eyes to the Sun.

The Poet (Museless) - Majed Diab

Empty words meaningless in their rhyme
Devoid of beauty - worthless cliches
Writ of a poet - lost in his time
He finds no inspiration - museless

He begs the universe for an answer
For what is the purpose behind my work?
I don't feel inspired, as a writer -
I've lost my love for the written word -

I cry, for the sanity I've lost
When no one looks a silent tear falls,
With all that's faded this is the worst
My heart! Can't you hear my wretched calls?

I find no sense of writing anymore -
Trivial scenes, long gone, I go through death's door...

- Asma Naqvi