Spring 2022
Issue #4 | Special Issue (April 2022)
Dwight Coleman: A Tribute
The Eternal Score
by Brianna Trimmer
Painting the campus with laughter and light,
You mentored your team to always fight.
Now that the silence and sadness invade,
How can we continue on our Holy Crusade?
The team is grieving, faces full of tears,
Your life taken to soon, robbing from us the years.
As we recall the hall, gym, or caf;
We see your smile, and it wasn’t by half.
Your legacy is secure, here in this place.
And we are certain that you are in His Grace.
From the dark, dark night so grim and deep,
We are assured you are in the Shepherd's Keep.
Please say hello to the Lord of Lords,
On behalf of us all as you hear heavenly chords.
You’ve run your race, and you’ll run no more,
For it is time to receive your eternal score.
Thank you for all that you have done for us
And now go enjoy, eternity with Jesus.
You mentored your team to always fight.
Now that the silence and sadness invade,
How can we continue on our Holy Crusade?
The team is grieving, faces full of tears,
Your life taken to soon, robbing from us the years.
As we recall the hall, gym, or caf;
We see your smile, and it wasn’t by half.
Your legacy is secure, here in this place.
And we are certain that you are in His Grace.
From the dark, dark night so grim and deep,
We are assured you are in the Shepherd's Keep.
Please say hello to the Lord of Lords,
On behalf of us all as you hear heavenly chords.
You’ve run your race, and you’ll run no more,
For it is time to receive your eternal score.
Thank you for all that you have done for us
And now go enjoy, eternity with Jesus.
That Smile I Remember
by Andrea Hernandez
I saw that smile just the day before, like many other days
That smile would greet me after class occasionally
That smile could cheer up a whole room with just an appearance
That smile affected a whole group of young men, even when it was absent
That smile led to many discovering their own self-empowerment
That smile led people to God
That smile is now gone. I miss that smile
That smile would greet me after class occasionally
That smile could cheer up a whole room with just an appearance
That smile affected a whole group of young men, even when it was absent
That smile led to many discovering their own self-empowerment
That smile led people to God
That smile is now gone. I miss that smile
Issue #3 | April 2022
Truth
A Thought on "Truth"
by Ian Bonham
How does one define truth? In my very brief life I have come to understand that the truth is very hard to come by; whether it be politically or individually, I have found that many truths often rest somewhere in the middle. In this world of division and half truths, I am glad to have access to the one truth. To learn this is pretty simple, one must simply practice reading the Scripture and applying its messages. I'm sure some are surprised by this answer; how can a book be the ultimate truth? YAWEH is often referred to as a “God of truth.” This makes it clear that truth is defined by the Almighty and his holiness. Anyone who seeks to separate themselves from a world lacking clear truth, should turn to the Scripture. In John 10:35 Jesus states, “The Scripture cannot be broken” (New International Version). How individuals react to the Truth has everlasting consequences. To turn a blind eye to the truth and live in the world of sin and deceit, or to accept the truth and yield to God's will, to see beyond the moral gray of the world, and to find eternal life. The choice seems pretty clear to me.
"The Lying Truth"
by Claressa Radtke
The
Reality is
Undoubtedly that
Truth
Hurts.
But…
Little did I know,
I fell for your pretty words and
Everything seemed perfect
Since all you did was lie.
Honesty was not what I got,
Only a fake “I’m sorry,” but
Nothing really mattered,
Especially not your words,
Since I had finally found out
The truth about
You.
Reality is
Undoubtedly that
Truth
Hurts.
But…
Little did I know,
I fell for your pretty words and
Everything seemed perfect
Since all you did was lie.
Honesty was not what I got,
Only a fake “I’m sorry,” but
Nothing really mattered,
Especially not your words,
Since I had finally found out
The truth about
You.
"Truth"
by Megan Ross
Issue #2 | February 2022
LOVE
Who am I to you?
by Natalia Alegria
Why does it hurt so much to see you walk away?
We’re like fire and water
You take away my flame when I shine
I cannot be happy, unless you’re happy
and that’s just no way to live,
But I still love you
More than the others
The hours I wasted talking about you to my mother
You’re not like any other
I wanted you to be mine,
But we are like a forest fire
My happiness tears you apart
I should have known from the start
Why did the years let us grow apart?
You were my pride and joy
The one I could turn to when I needed you the most
And I still don’t know who I am to you?
I’m such a fool, but I can’t shake the feelings you bring me
Yet there’s a deep feeling in my heart
That you never loved me from the start
It brings me pain to know that I wasn’t the end game,
But now I just gotta know
Who am I to you?
We’re like fire and water
You take away my flame when I shine
I cannot be happy, unless you’re happy
and that’s just no way to live,
But I still love you
More than the others
The hours I wasted talking about you to my mother
You’re not like any other
I wanted you to be mine,
But we are like a forest fire
My happiness tears you apart
I should have known from the start
Why did the years let us grow apart?
You were my pride and joy
The one I could turn to when I needed you the most
And I still don’t know who I am to you?
I’m such a fool, but I can’t shake the feelings you bring me
Yet there’s a deep feeling in my heart
That you never loved me from the start
It brings me pain to know that I wasn’t the end game,
But now I just gotta know
Who am I to you?
"Untitled"
by Trinity Johnson
Love is a funny thing.
We laugh, we cry
We crumble and we thrive.
People tear each other down
Sometimes we even feel drowned.
In the end we never forget
How it feels to truly love that one
We crumble and we thrive
But sometimes it's quite the drive
We feel the pain
We feel the joy and the memories
But the hurt lasts for centuries.
We laugh, we cry
We crumble and we thrive.
People tear each other down
Sometimes we even feel drowned.
In the end we never forget
How it feels to truly love that one
We crumble and we thrive
But sometimes it's quite the drive
We feel the pain
We feel the joy and the memories
But the hurt lasts for centuries.
Reflection of Love
by Jason Smith
Rosy sun-painted hills covered with wool blankets and tarps. Bread broken and meals shared among the people. Fellowships strengthen as the vile snake wilts.
Comb meets scruffy hair. The mother brushes through the daughter’s locks as the daughter twinges from pain. Their roots grow as the vile snake wilts.
A child slams the bat against the baseball. It goes flying over the spectators and he embraces his father. Bonds soar higher than ever as the vile snake wilts.
The woman lies sick in bed, barely conscious. Her friends and family arrive, tears in their eyes, as they hand over gifts and goodbyes. The wounded heart perseveres as the vile snake wilts.
The man lights another bunch of his stock. The child hugs him, and hands over a drawn portrait of the man, their idol. A tear rolls down in regret as the vile snake wilts.
Voices bicker in the kitchen as the child listens on. She cries out in anguish at their suffering, wishing to be different from them. The new generation vows to change from the old as the vile snake wilts.
The child lies in the cold, shuddering beneath a cardboard blanket. The woman picks him up, and holds him tight, offering her only food: bread. Love warms the heart and hearth as the vile snake wilts.
What, then, do these things have in common? Why would one go so far out of their way and ultimately spite themselves for kindness? Well, the answer is quite simple. After all, why wouldn’t a creation reflect its creator?
Comb meets scruffy hair. The mother brushes through the daughter’s locks as the daughter twinges from pain. Their roots grow as the vile snake wilts.
A child slams the bat against the baseball. It goes flying over the spectators and he embraces his father. Bonds soar higher than ever as the vile snake wilts.
The woman lies sick in bed, barely conscious. Her friends and family arrive, tears in their eyes, as they hand over gifts and goodbyes. The wounded heart perseveres as the vile snake wilts.
The man lights another bunch of his stock. The child hugs him, and hands over a drawn portrait of the man, their idol. A tear rolls down in regret as the vile snake wilts.
Voices bicker in the kitchen as the child listens on. She cries out in anguish at their suffering, wishing to be different from them. The new generation vows to change from the old as the vile snake wilts.
The child lies in the cold, shuddering beneath a cardboard blanket. The woman picks him up, and holds him tight, offering her only food: bread. Love warms the heart and hearth as the vile snake wilts.
What, then, do these things have in common? Why would one go so far out of their way and ultimately spite themselves for kindness? Well, the answer is quite simple. After all, why wouldn’t a creation reflect its creator?
Someone Like You
by Natalia Alegria
I do not want to get my hopes up when I am around you
You seem too perfect, too good to be true
The more time I spend with you the more I worry
Do you like me or am I the only one whose heart is in a flurry?
I want to be so madly in love with you,
But if the truth is too much to face
I wish this “thing” would speed up
Go at a faster pace
The truth is I am dying to get to know you
You seem kind and smart
Honestly, you are like a work of art
I have never met someone so laid back and chill
you are not even my type, but your blue eyes and curls
make my heart pulse
I am just afraid I am making this whole thing up
It’s happened before, I put my love out there
And it seemed I was the only one who thought it was real
Maybe this time will be different, and it would be ideal
I just do not want to get caught up in my feelings if you don’t feel the same
Cause then I’ll have no one else to blame
But my dumb brain
For thinking maybe something new would happen
With someone like you
You seem too perfect, too good to be true
The more time I spend with you the more I worry
Do you like me or am I the only one whose heart is in a flurry?
I want to be so madly in love with you,
But if the truth is too much to face
I wish this “thing” would speed up
Go at a faster pace
The truth is I am dying to get to know you
You seem kind and smart
Honestly, you are like a work of art
I have never met someone so laid back and chill
you are not even my type, but your blue eyes and curls
make my heart pulse
I am just afraid I am making this whole thing up
It’s happened before, I put my love out there
And it seemed I was the only one who thought it was real
Maybe this time will be different, and it would be ideal
I just do not want to get caught up in my feelings if you don’t feel the same
Cause then I’ll have no one else to blame
But my dumb brain
For thinking maybe something new would happen
With someone like you
Issue #1 | January 2022
Beauty
An Oceanic Gaze
by Jason Smith
A solid wing graced fresh seawater, parting the surface of the waves within distance of the feathery limb. The bird’s reflection shone off the steely mirror of sea life, displaying its glide across the vast ocean. Schools of fish swam beneath, moving as a mass under the membrane of seawater. The boundary separated earth and sky as a perfect split. The ground and air; two parts of a whole, opposing each other identically. Constantly meeting, yet never crossing over into one another’s territory. A coral reef sat below, peacefully undisturbed on the bed of the sea body. Bright yellows, blazing crimsons, and soothing oranges painted the underbelly of the cyan-infused waters.
The waterfowl flew on, beak poised, and head held high as he soared above the depths below him. The sun, so far, yet so near, began to enter below the world, surrendering its governance to the lunar ruler taking its place. As it sank below the horizon, the backdrop of the journey was painted with colors of the coral reef underneath. Soft pinks and majestic purples draped the darkening sky, swirling across and between the clouds.
The sea bird’s goal had been hardwired into his mind, guiding him along his journey across the sea of the west. Though night was beginning to reign over the deep depths of the sky and sea, the bird’s flight continued uninterrupted by the light level and change in tone. The wind surged underneath his feathery wings, propelling him forward to greater horizons. His crest was pushed against the top of his head, kept smooth on his scalp by the flight’s rushing acceleration and increased flow of air across the ocean.
Thoughts flowed through the observer’s head, the captured moment giving reflection to her psyche. Just as the fowl itself, not much thinking was required for capturing these moments. She sighed in the monotony of it all. How could so few appreciate such a thing like this? It would only end up in a rundown gift shop for a dime a dozen. Going beyond the uninterested consumers of this work, she did this for herself. Although the unappreciative sellers and buyers decreased the moment’s value in their eyes, she gave it her own worthiness. Despite their devaluation, in her hands, hands that had fully come to terms with existence and wished to mold and sculpt created material, they would make honest, wonderful things. Pushing past the surface is what needs to be done, and although few have achieved this, those who extend this created beauty, are the ones who are truly living a fulfilling life.
The waterfowl flew on, beak poised, and head held high as he soared above the depths below him. The sun, so far, yet so near, began to enter below the world, surrendering its governance to the lunar ruler taking its place. As it sank below the horizon, the backdrop of the journey was painted with colors of the coral reef underneath. Soft pinks and majestic purples draped the darkening sky, swirling across and between the clouds.
The sea bird’s goal had been hardwired into his mind, guiding him along his journey across the sea of the west. Though night was beginning to reign over the deep depths of the sky and sea, the bird’s flight continued uninterrupted by the light level and change in tone. The wind surged underneath his feathery wings, propelling him forward to greater horizons. His crest was pushed against the top of his head, kept smooth on his scalp by the flight’s rushing acceleration and increased flow of air across the ocean.
Thoughts flowed through the observer’s head, the captured moment giving reflection to her psyche. Just as the fowl itself, not much thinking was required for capturing these moments. She sighed in the monotony of it all. How could so few appreciate such a thing like this? It would only end up in a rundown gift shop for a dime a dozen. Going beyond the uninterested consumers of this work, she did this for herself. Although the unappreciative sellers and buyers decreased the moment’s value in their eyes, she gave it her own worthiness. Despite their devaluation, in her hands, hands that had fully come to terms with existence and wished to mold and sculpt created material, they would make honest, wonderful things. Pushing past the surface is what needs to be done, and although few have achieved this, those who extend this created beauty, are the ones who are truly living a fulfilling life.
The Standard
by Claressa Radtke
Beauty… is everchanging.
Society has its eyes set on one mold of beauty,
And makes the rest feel… ugly.
We who fall outside of the mold,
Are criticized for not being the world’s idea of beautiful.
We wonder, “what is wrong with me?”
Crying ourselves to sleep at night,
Fearing we will never be beautiful in society's eyes.
Forgetting that in the end,
The only opinion that matters is…
Yours.
Society has its eyes set on one mold of beauty,
And makes the rest feel… ugly.
We who fall outside of the mold,
Are criticized for not being the world’s idea of beautiful.
We wonder, “what is wrong with me?”
Crying ourselves to sleep at night,
Fearing we will never be beautiful in society's eyes.
Forgetting that in the end,
The only opinion that matters is…
Yours.