%-------CUT HERE--------------------------------------------------- % % This is the TeXfile for Sand River Journal. While you can read % the poems easily enough in this file, the formatted journal can % be obtained by (1) saving it % s srj.tex % (2) removing the header, (3) compiling it: % tex srj % and (4) viewing or printing it: % preview srj % dvips srj % % These are commands on my unix-based system, but the process is % similarly easy on PC's and Macs which support TeX. The PostScript % (compiled) version of this document is also posted and can be % printed directly. % \raggedbottom \baselineskip=12pt \font\journal=punksl20 scaled 2000 \font\byline=ccmi10 \font\lsl=cmsl8 \font\smtit=cmr9 \font\tit=cmdunh10 scaled \magstep2 \font\ref=cmitt10 scaled 1200 \font\astro=astrosym \font\editorial=cmr6 \moveright -1.8in \vbox{% \centerline{\journal Sand River Journal} \vskip 0.9truein {\editorial \baselineskip=0pt \narrower\narrower\narrower\narrower\narrower Sand River Journal is a collection of poems gathered from the newsgroup rec.arts.poems; it is posted monthly in \TeX\ and PostScript formats. Poems appear by authors' permission and constitute copyrighted material. Free transmission of this document (electronic or otherwise) is permitted only in its entire and unaltered form; to inquire about individual poems contact the authors by their email addresses. The editor takes no responsibility for the fate of this document, nor does he claim ownership to any of the contents herein. Send comments and contributions (please reference SRJ) to asphaug@lpl.arizona.edu. Enjoy! \medskip \hskip 1.7in Erik Asphaug, Editor \baselineskip=12pt} \vskip 0.5truein \centerline{\ref Issue 5, July 17 1993} \bigskip \centerline{\astro f \hskip 0.2in n \hskip 0.2in h } \medskip} \def\title#1{\vskip 0.8in\bigskip\bigbreak\centerline{\hskip -3.5in {\tit #1}}\bigskip\nobreak} \def\smtitle#1{\vskip -0.15in\centerline{\hskip -3.5in {\smtit #1}}\bigskip\nobreak} \def\author#1#2{\nobreak\medskip\line{\hskip 1.5truein\hbox{\sl #1\/}\hfill}% \line{\hskip 1.5truein\hbox{\lsl #2}\hfill}\goodbreak} \hoffset=1.6in \obeylines \title{Avalanche} white recedes to wet \bigskip a bird pecks a red button \bigskip sleeping jaw yawns \bigskip falls \author{Sean Ward}{sward@lonestar.utsa.edu} \title{to those with decorated lives} to those with decorated lives who live with symphonies of poetry and stanzas of music ... languages that flow like veils of waterfall paintings and gardens and dreams \medskip i am a mist... nebulous \qquad surreal no walls to hang poetry on no tearful violins to paint chords of exquisite pain no garden of perfumed music \dots \medskip clumsy at language and stranger to love i can only gaze at those with decorated lives. \author{zita marie evensen}{bu016@cleveland.freenet.edu} \title{Nightbird} Now it's me who's frightened -- not of you, nor of these things that have been happening between us, but of love, unwieldy wings that flap and flail like something manic in my hands. Is this heart mine? I hardly know myself, departed as I am from my design! Are these dreams, these broken nest-beds full of down and shattered shells? and these, my fledgling feelings, sweats and trembling nothing quells? I'm afraid that I will spook you in my fluttering and fright, and you'll fly in soft-winged silence back into the arms of night. Then I'll have to limp into the daylight, lone and feather-dressed and tuck this ranting, sharp-clawed flapper back into my ragged breast. \author{Jennifer Merri Parker}{jmparker@ra.msstate.edu} \title{(this is where you come in)} mother says the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. mother - floral bloused, oil-of-olay sobbing angel, she makes good lasagne. \medskip in the desert - hot ridges and paper cut-out blue blue sky, i will ladle too much cream onto the oh-so-english strawberry scones. it will dazzle your mouth and i will lick it clean. i will put too much tabasco onto the indian ocean crab - black pepper corn eyes. i will cool your mouth with damp faure' kisses. i will spill wine down your breast - (fast wrist flick - crystal glass) and hang blueberries from my lips; sapphire saliva. \medskip i will wash your hair with crushed guavas apricots huge figs; hook the perfume of cherries behind your ears. i will drown the hollow of your throat with mulberries. \medskip we will be thirsty but we will never go hungry. \author{Helen Walne}{g93w5635@thoth} \title{How could it be} I see my reflection but how could it be me the sun tanned leather face has a strange white palor my hair line has so receded where young ladies use to run their fingers in the curls why the aches the scratching electric pain in each muscle and bone the doc says too much vibration fromn the tractor but who will harvest the hay cut and store it safe? not my son who sits beer can to his lips watching TV sports by the hour while his muscles atrophy Not the teen who rides the tractor jauntily to impress the girls but deserts the task to follow them What will come of my land my crops Must I sit by waiting for a grave to quiet my soul No. Pain speaks of life and I am not ready to leave may the pain come but let it but spark my soul. \author{Jackie Link}{jrlink@netcom.com} \title{Angel} all day will fall upon you in invisible cascades of light and heat, such is the love i have assigned you in my absence. \medskip and at night in dreams these disembodied hands will reach into you, seeking deftly all the knots of pain, undoing and undoing. \medskip i have loved you with a cord of braided flesh and blood and feeling that would bleed if it were severed. That, i never would allow. \medskip But all day my heart will hover beating winglike at your ear. if you're still enough you'll hear it. i am here, but i am there. \author{Jennifer Merri Parker}{jmparker@isis.msstate.edu} \title{A Reprisal: My Thoughts Do Not Rhyme} Forgive the lack of pretense, \qquad and scarcity of form. Mind not, the token hints of rythme; \qquad these scattered clutches of whispy words \qquad barely outweigh the sullied stationary they adorn. Cast no eye askance at my loss of classic style. Neither should your brow wrinkle where \qquad my dreadful ignorance of the ``mode du jour'' is concerned. A poet's pen and a poet's mind are not joined directly! The heart knows naught of meter or measure. My disordered collection of whimsies, forgive, I beg. For you see, my thoughts simply do not ryhme. \author{Timothy I Panagos}{tip@kepler.unh.edu} \title{Spring Love} I. \medskip Rejoicing the daisy recoils, the wind kisses her face. Tickling, a bee lands gently. Blushing, she knowingly shudders. Laughing, he flys away in ecstasy. \medskip\goodbreak II. \medskip\nobreak Golden rays lie upon earth. Rising petals spasm. Air rushing out of bulging soil. Ejecting forward, coming into spring. \author{Eddie Carrington}{ejc@chem.ucla.edu} \title{do not look at me in anger} i was furious \dots livid with anger how dare he \qquad\qquad\qquad what did i do, he said nothing, i said \qquad\qquad\qquad but i was furious about inconsequential things \medskip please, he said \medskip do not look at me in anger i cannot bear that shy-sensuous pout i cannot endure that fire in your eyes their raging exquisite flames lighting firecrackers in my soul oh, please do not look at me with such livid passion i will only love you \smallskip \qquad\qquad\qquad\qquad\qquad that much more. \author{zita marie evensen}{bu016@cleveland.freenet.edu} \title{A Doubtful Comfort} Stress soils me. It buries me, the worm I am, And comforts me: A cool, dark blanket of soil. I am naked Without its life-stealing symptoms And properties Which hide my true self from others. \author{msj}{regurg::jessop@ljohub.enet.dec.com} \title{Blue} Her eyes breathing miracles rings of burning sapphire \medskip Her stare blue iris manacles chain me to crimson fire \medskip lips \medskip carve delicate whisper azure whirlpools pull me in moats I swim that make her an ocean deep eternity \medskip In torrent circle water storm I will drown in hole darkness I become her pupil \author{Shawn}{sklejmon@black.clarku.edu} \title{Solitary} She wept a solitary diamond, Multi-facets shimmering As it tumbled from her cheek, Too precious to taste with a kiss. And I? I was her broken heart. \author{msj}{regurg::jessop@ljohub.enet.dec.com} \title{Call for Help} Her voice echoed, shattering the sunlight. \medskip A hoarse cawing, crow-like as she called my name. Panic in the rasping, as I hurried to her, \qquad\qquad clasped her broken hand in mine. \medskip Her so-fragile body lay swathed in hospital white, \qquad\qquad slight as a child's under the covers. \medskip ``Talk to her.'' they said. ``Just be a friend.'' \medskip Talk to her. \medskip And what do I say to this battered body, \qquad\qquad these blind eyes begging for comfort? \medskip All I am now is fury at the men who did this to her, \qquad\qquad and there is no softness, no beauty in me anymore. \medskip I am huge with righteous anger and my hands are giant, \qquad\qquad too clumsy to begin to mend this human spiderweb, \qquad\qquad\qquad this tracery of delicate strands \qquad\qquad\qquad\qquad torn apart by careless predators. \medskip I must suppress this passion \qquad\qquad or I will tear her apart all over again. \medskip Speak past the tears in my throat \qquad\qquad for beauty lost \qquad\qquad\qquad for friendship. \medskip ``Hello. How do you feel?'' \author{M.A. Mohanraj}{moh2@quads.uchicago.edu} \title{velvet} sunlight nudging away sleep nothing to do \quad nowhere to go just lazily drifting between dreams \quad cool silk sheets and jade-sky morning \author{zita marie evensen}{bu016@cleveland.freenet.edu} \title{when your skin is too tight} when your skin is too loose, it sags --- post-party balloon. it drags behind you through sour corridors like wet cordouroy. it collects dust and goes black and tangles around your legs while you sleep. it slaps around the floor under the breakfast table and jams revolving doors in fancy hotels. \medskip me, my skin is too tight. it forces my arms into tango's while the orange disc of the sun feeds itself to the mouths of valleys. it stretches me out --- deliciously painful, and lures ladybirds to prick small feet over me. this wicked wicked peach polyester crab-walks my body onto the floor beneath the window --- allows my mouth to be stung by frozen moonthings. my feet and hands are stretched and pinned to the four corners of this rippling room. my head is pegged over the ocean --- translucent net for starfish and rocket-ships. \author{Helen Walne}{g93w5635@thoth} \title{Silver Thimble} You appeared thin, but no steel could pierce you. I wanted you to be more than an inch of polished metal. \medskip An inch, I rationalized, is no shallow height when measured from a sudden cloud burst. \medskip I used you to try and mend my torn things. Hoping the friction would warm you. Now you are back in your mother's sewing box, where you are safe, and \medskip as I fix these holes I will surely endure \medskip some pain. \author{Sean Ward}{sward@lonestar.utsa.edu} \title{Sphinx} I sang a song of mystery not meant for all to comprehend, of ancient sands and hidden vaults and of the fertile river bend where jewels cast up on deltan soil lie sparkling like the starry sky and spell the hero's fortunes out in pearl and lapis lazuli. I sang it for my seventh son who lives to find my secrets out, just as I live to lead him on and in, to all I am about. \author{Jennifer Merri Parker}{jmparker@ra.msstate.edu} \vfill\eject \end