Impressions 1995 by Dickinson State University

-1995

Contents Photograph* by Stacey Dieble .............................................................................................................. Cover Untitled by cole .................................................................................. .... ............................... ........................ 1 Untitled* by cole .................. .... .... ................................................................................................................. 2 Drawing+ by NiJar Rorvik .............. ................................................................................................................ 3 Love at First Sight by Charlotte M. Peiler ................................................................................................... 4 Life+ by Shawna Lee Gietzen ........................................................................................................................ 7 Reclining by Lu Ann Robinson ..................................................................................................................... 8 Untitled* by Brain Matthews .......................................................... .............................................................. 9 Drawing by Lori Campbell ..... ........ .... ......................................................................................................... 12 T he Lady and Death+ by Timothy D Plumb ...... ...... ...... ............................................................................ 13 Eyes U by Wolf ............................................................................................................................................ 14 Scarred by Wolf ........................................................................................................................................... 14 The Conflict by Stephen Bradley ................................................................................................................ 15 Dead Child in Leaves by Stacey Dieblc ....................................................... .............................................. 16 Jane by Lu Ann Robinson .............................................................................. .............................................. 17 Photograph+ by Steven VerMass ..................... ................................. ............ ....................... .... ................... 19 Real Honesty by Charlotte M. Peiler ..................................................... ............................... ...................... 20 Mother by Charlotte M. Peiler .................................................................................................................... 22 Drawing by Tara Jensen ............................................................................................................................... 23 The Little Broken Heart by Kris Dassinger ............................................................................................... 24 Drawing by Yvonn Quijano ......................................... ................................................................................ 26 Dawn by Jennifer VerMass ..................................... .................................... .................................... ............. 27 Reflections by Jennifer VerMass .... .............................. ............................................................................... 27 Order+ by Danny Raymond Brinson ................................................................................................. ......... 28 Success by Jan Scheer .................................................................................................................................. 29 Solid Rock by Brant J. Wardner ................................................................................................................... 30 Refrigerator by Brant J. Wardner ................................................................................................................ 30 Stand-Up by Mark Spitzer ....................................................................................................... .................... 31 Photograph by J. D. Thrarns ....................................................................................................................... 33 Drawing by Deanne Holm ............................................................ ............. .................................................. 34 A Spring Morning by Yumei Wu ................................................................................................................ 35 Drawing by Lori Campbell .......................................................................................................................... 38 Lost by Lu Ann Robinson ............................................................................................................................ 39 A Bowel of Cherries by Lu Ann Robinson ................................................................................................. 39 Drawing by Lu Ann Robinson .................................................................... ................................ ................. 40 The Kiss by Shawna Lee Gietzen .................................. .............................................................................. 41 Smile by Kristine Dassinger ........ ......................................................... ..... ....... ....................... ..... ................ 43 Winter's Curse by Kristine Dassinger ..................................................... ................................................... 43 Photograph by Steven VerMass .................................................................................................................. 44 Drawing by Corinne Lindbo ........................................................................................................................ 45 Drawing by Cathy Fix .................................................................................................................... Backcover â&#x20AC;˘ Denotes frrst place winner in the student contest. + Denotes runners-up.

Impressions 1995

Co-editors Kristine Dassinger Lu Ann Robinson Yumei Wu

Faculty Advisor Dave Solheim

Copyright 1995 by the editors of Impressions. All future rights to material published in this journal belong to the individual authors. and any reproduction or reprinting of this material may be done only with their permission.

Preface by Kris Dassinger Impressions is Dickinson State University's annual art and literary magazine. We accept submissions from students, faculty, and DSU alumni. Cash awards are given to the top three students artists in three categories: poetry, prose, and visual. It was difficult to chose the top three out of all the great contributions. Thank you to Dr. Solheim, Lu Ann, Dr. Lamen, and to everyone who submitted works. A special thank you to Yumei for her hard work on computer layout and her dedication to Impressions. I hope everyone enjoys the words that have conquered these pages.

see my longing i need this somehow knowing it as a comfort only you can give you smother me with womanness warmth and skin-scent overcome me and i must plead for more your excess is my need the lust for extremes must be consummated if i give this night to you ... will you vow to make me need you?

talons rending tender flesh ... my exposed heart lies beating in the cavity of my soul gushing wetness covers claws buried deep and fans the furnace of your desire for my agony. my tortured limbs writhe impaled by the grinning tip of the sharpest of all implements ... love . cole

this spiritual agony the antagonist ln my mind flawed crystal shards the mirrored panes of memory slit my veins crimson fountains blur my vision and reality doesn't exist i need someone anyone my heart is black anguish rapes my mind, unfeeling self is washed away in blood mental menstruation.

Cole

Love at First Sight

One fall day out on the Daneville farm, as the sun was setting behind the red barn .

The guys came through the double door to

view the new schoolmarm . with one ann.

She was riding in a buggy, hanging on

They jostled each other giving what for and asked

the oldest brother, "are ya goin' to go meet the new schoolmarm?" The oldest brother stood there gazing with stars in his eyes. This new school teacher was quite a surprise. shaking his head as if in a dream .

He stood there

Hardly able to breathe, let

alone hang on to the galvanized bucket of cream .

But he composed

himself so the others wouldn't tease, or hot air blow and he calmly replied, "Yep, I'm gonna have to get to know her sooner or later, you know . "

For in that moment, as she turned in the yard

he'd decided whether it be easy or hard, this new school teacher he'd one day have as his wife .

This woman was the one he wanted

for the rest of his life. He was 18 at the time with hardly a dime and the school teacher was a lady with a mind of her own .

She at 21, with three years of

. teaching under her belt didn't have a heart that was easy to melt , or so she let him think,

She gave him a reason to have

goals to reach, while she taught wherever she was needed to teach .

Then in 1928, he gave her a ring, with filigree, a

diamond, and 2 emeralds from Montgomery Ward Catalog, a pretty thing . 4

She told him she'd marry him when he had a place . She

decided on satin instead of lace.

She said, "When you are 21 and

are able to sign your own marriage license, that's the way it' 11 be and I won't listen to any other nonsense .

They married when

fall work was done, in October on the 12th in the year 1930 , when the wind was blowing and everything dusty and dirty . and became a Lutheran, a faithful follower of God. Only Son .

She studied

His Spirit and

That was her gift to her beloved husband so true .

From the day of their marriage no one had a clue .

They thought

She ran the ship, that it was always her way . But, if the truth be known, it was always Daddy's final say. angry and in a big huff .

When she would get

He'd calmly listen and then call her

bluff by saying "I think dear , that's enough-now let's calmly say what there is to say .

Her feathers would fluff then she'd

settle right down, 'cause she knew just how far she was able to go, before he'd retreat for awhile with a frown on his brow . Yes, those parent of mine are no longer here. They gave me grow very dear .

The GCX)D qualities

I think of my Dad and how hard it

was to believe that he took one look at that schoolmarm coming there love at first sight? Who are we to say?

Evidently there is.

Is it right?

If the truth be known about those days, even

though Mon put up a whale of a fight or battle of wits, she'd sized him up too, that first night and decided he was right.

total of 52 1/2 years, 49 1/2 married, through laughter and tears, but when he died she lost her reason for doing the things that she did.

Now you'd think that tough lady had such a mind 5

of her own, but she was able to be so strong because of the love she was shown. "What shall we have for Christmas dinner?"

she'd

say, then "Well, Daddy likes Oyster stew and goose of course, that's the Danish traditional way, at least in his family . "

goose it was and if we had no goose, turkey might be a conditional choice .

Did we have the foods and other things from

her growing up years? pretty clear .

Not if Daddy didn't like them, that was

Into us children she put the fear of God with a

frown and "Your Daddy wouldn ' t like you doing that if he were here-Straighten up before he gets back to the house from t he barn . "

Whalever we did, we knew in our hearts our parents were

dedicated to God , church, the good old USA and making sure we turned out half educated in a better way than they had been .

AND

it all started because a buggy drove down the road with the new schoolmarm in it to stay at the Daneville farm for the school term and the young man , even though acting cool with his brothers , began dreaming of her as his wife for the rest of his life .

Charlotte M. Peiler

Life Time brings danger We learn not to trust The excessive need The casual lust Our minds are confused Our bodies torn Our souls divided Between love and scorn Our emotions guarded Love in rations Innocence stolen By forbidden passions Conscience enters The Fate steps in You are blinded by touch And you want the Sin These whispering bodies Ache for excess Erotic intervention The universal quest . Shawna Lee Gietzen

j ./ Â·

Hairy chested winos sipping on a rusted can of Penzoil . Lubricating their souls with Roman fluid. Burning tube socks stain my drive way and my car starts on the first try.Candle light cellulite hovering over the bean dip.Juke box covered in oranges playing the sucking down Wesson oil. Plastic pink Barretes . Liver oiled tennis player screwing in a surface of the sun . Sharkelberry hair dye, winding up my ego.Matchbox full of roller blades.Pentacostal eyebrows blinking at my bunk beds.Lounge lizard grandmas tilting my garage door.Lemon joicing heart throbs shoveling through Sears catalog . Orthapedic lava lamp.Frankestein's pinky toe, white out cholesterol, bamboo sippo lighters, sex contact lenses pushing up the toad stools . Can't find my Gatorade I left in Utopia. Flourescent art pits falling in my bean bag. Handcuffed to an out house buried in my glory. Chicken noodle moustache underneath my walkrnan. Pregnant with a buzz saw chopping out my innerds . Boufonts and turtlenecks biting off my tongue . I can't talk speechless without my fabric softener. Shaving all my shingles, buffing up my cardigan.Hi top rubber gloves.Lip gloss metal plate,ear wax bubble gum,shaking up my wint-o-green.Air conditioned love trap messing up my reception. Cordouroy Barbie doll singing to my parakeet.Banjo humming, nocturnal organs spreading out the mayoinaisse like a pocket full of Geritol.Swing set nose job killing side burned midgets.Long distant water bed curling up at pool side smelling like a pigeon.Leaf blowing babbling stirring up my diet.Yogurt in my ashtray behind the margarine . Main stream salmon jumping on the Volvo heading for the mountains . Ain't that a shame?Never saw a piccalo running like cougar . Vacu-sealing deodorant to mail it to my chess coach.My left pinky slipped.Left a scar.Mobile phone alert.Dentu-grip eraser textured like an elephant.Slurping up the milk duds and spraying them on my lawn.Found my plastic golf ball.Aliens eating Melba toast watching Bobby Newhart . Static in my bed sheets looking like an afghan . Leaned into Barney shooting 9

up with Drain-o.Pocket protector left inside a suitcase.Disneyland orange juice dripping from the pillars . Vaseline headbands gagging on a tulip. Ringo Starr can't go far because he has no legs . Diamond space, isopropyl alcohol . Pissing in the gene pool, flying by the rib joint.That's OK . !'m a horse . There's nothing wrong with that.Psychedelic minstrel gagging on a snake skin yearning for invention,has to be rack and pinion.Power stink bomb floating on a fish bag.Astral projection overload . ! can't believe the egg yolk confessing to the crime . Never saw a monkey hanging from the rafters . Voodoo honey bee soaking up the sun rays . Plucking out my nose hairs like a frigid house wife.Am I gay?Power strip,button hole searing up the coastline . Low rider etch-a-sketch riding to the beach house.Kung fu tyrade through my nervous system . Pulling off off the band aid from my zit of magma.Lusting for a candle box covered in pajamas . Loosening the bolt holding my insanity . Jelly bean maalox under heavy fire .Can't find the VCR smoking in the closet.Hill Street Bules cavalcade nazi hookers on parade.Next of Kin . Barbecuing Van Gogh full smokey flavor . Heinz yellow ochre mixing with the bread dough.Suicidal chowder lurching through the boat docks . Licorice toothpaste clogging up my arteries . Patent leather floppy disk floati ng in my cocoa puffs . Solitaire polo locking up the poodles. Optical thryoid burning up the crew cut . Fords on the border waiting for the tacos . High living curtain call totalling their canker sores .Garden tractor highway running through the sandbox . Corvette Stingray.FM Radio . Black out press on chicken breast.Never liked my alligator . Christmas lights torture chamber . Yelling at my poster . Cauliflower ear phone . Establishing my uterus going through the yellow snow like a cabbie from Voncouver . Button hole fi nger tips squeezing in a tube top . After glow,everlast,heavy duty play dough . Head light flowing on my mildew . Unicorn hairpiece , asteroid belt loop juggeling the jell-o upwards down the stair belt loop juggeling the jell-o upwards down the staircase.Lifting my 10

prefrontal cranium digging up the dandelions . Tracking down the sidewalk,cheese whiz on the bumper . Bicycle suction cups holding onto youth. Calling card territory hiding in the underwear. License plate vaccine numbing all my tse tse flies . Bell bottom hear-do heavy on my sunshine . UFOs danced away thanking Clara's bath towel. Catatonic stationwagon . Lawn chairs reclining in the decade.Bargaining with marbles underneath the brass ring . Swirnrning in my macaroni chanting for a tortoise . Leaving all my cracker jacks in martian helicopters . Billy Crystal's methadone seeping through the ceiling . Flappi ng in the hurricane like a lucid zebra . Tunneling through my ear canal , sipping on my brains . Recor ding all my movements on a wallet full of parchment . Understand that standing under is nothing but claim . Guru sweating on my tv . I think I ' ll go to bed without my ice cream sandwich.Focusing on the tie.A little bit too mascara all over my rancid holy teeth. Brian Matthews

(

The Lady and Death 'To what do I owe this honor' said the lady to the man who came to her door looked into her eyes and held out a bony hand. 'I have come o'lady this I say your time has come your death is near must come with me this day.' 'But why must I follow such a dark and looming man? Do you bring new hope? Do you open new doors? Tell me o'sir where is it you stand 'I bring to you, o'dear, the gift of lifeless peace where no pain is near, your heart is free, and time will ever cease'. 'But why would I want these things o'sir I do implore tell me what il is you give oh do tell I want to hear more.' Cease this talk o'lady the time we have is short we have no time for mindless chatter to my domain you must report . ' The lady thought and stretched out a hand and pulled it back again 'I think not o'sir I will stay. My hear is free, my life is short, and I enjoy the pains.' But this is an order a request for you to turn down. You will came with me and be with us deep beneath the ground.' But I think I won't o'sir for I have the right to choose and if I went just think and look at all that I would lose.' She shut the door and turned away and left him there in awe of all the souls he had seen, taken and mauled. This he thought had to be the bravest of them all.

Timothy D Plumb

Eyes II The poisons of the mind Bled from within my eyes The thought became clean and pure As the tears cleansed my soul The mind regained its virginity No one was on my mind No one was in my head My eyes are again bright and clear

Scarred A light dew forms It ever so slowly builds A light trickle begins to form It builds more and more Vision is shattered into pieces With the flow of tears The emotions begin to run wild Good and bad erupt from the tears The tears clowly fade away with the tears past The heart is scarred

Wolf

Jane The l ast time I saw Jane was in '87 . She looked stran gely mature in her thirteen year old body. Looking at the lines around her eyes, I realized that there was no innocence left in her . She raised her Marlboro to cracked lips with hands that showed of a life of hard work. Her scarred knuckles were stained with the kind of grease and grime that never seems to come out . It made me think of the line from Macbeth, you know the one "out damn spot! " In some strange way I envied this woman- child who stood before me . It seemed that any hardship that befell her just made her stronger as she told me the story of how her step-father had screamed at, ridiculed and belittled her mother until she eventually broke down . Her mother had the kind of inner beauty that made you wish she was your mother. If this woman would have been anything but a human she would have been a lily, a white lily . Elegant, pure, and delicate, and he crushed that flower . In Jane's eyes, her mother's suicide was all his fault and she would never forgive him . I guess that ' s why it really didn't shock me that much, when two years later I heard that she had shot her step-father, whom the authorities had t h ought committed suicide . Th e story goes that one evening Jane was home alone with him . She was cleaning their sawed off shot gun when he asked her to hand it to him . Supposedly she didn't know that it was loaded when i t accidentally went off, splitting his head open like an over-ripe pomegranate . But I know better . I know the respect she had for guns and the hate that he had for him . I know in my heart of hearts that that day her hate simply overpowered her . She did what she had to do to free herself. I can see her picking up and shot gun one handed with her powerful arm and pointing it at his head . And I can hear her snarl at him "Here

you go bastard# through clenched teeth as she squeezed the trigger. How she must have shuddered with relief as his crimson blood and creamy white brain curds spewed across the kitchen table . Yea, she did what SHE had lo do. We might not think it's right, but I think every now and again we're jusL too blind for our good and someone like Jane needs to come along and wake us up. Perhaps that's another reason I envied Jane, she wasn't afraid to do what she felt was right . She stood up for herself no matter what the cost. How may of us can say that? But that is neither here nor there. I still think of her. I think of the unending pools of sadness I saw when I looked in her eyes. Where are you now Jane? Have you finally drowned in a pool of sadness, I wonder as I take a drag off of my own Marlboro, grey smoke curling around my scarred knuckles.

1 . a. robinson

REAL HONESTY I'M NOW A WOMAN WHO BELIEVES IN HONESTY WHO'S FOUGHT SELF-ESTEEM SINCE I WAS A GIRL OF THREE I'VE SETTLED FOR LESS WITH MEN IN MY LIFE BECAUSE I WAS ROBBED EARLY IN LIFE WHEN I LIVED IN FEAR A FAMILY MEMBER SAID TO ME "WHAT'D YOU EVER DO TO HIM TO MAKE HIM ACT SO CRAZILY" TODAY I HAVE NO REASON TO SWEEP DIRT UNDER THE RUGS THIS SANCTIMONIOUS HYPOCRITE IS LIKE LICE OR LIKE BUGS MY DAUGHTER AND SON BLESS THEIR HEARTS HAVE TURNED OUT WELL THEY'VE HAD FRESH STARTS THEY'VE HAD PEOPLE BEHIND THEM WHO CARED EASILY THEY WERE REAL HONEST FRIENDS BUT MEANT MORE THAN ANY FAMILY PEOPLE SAY I'M A GOOD MOTHER HOW WOULD YOU KNOW? YOU WERE TOO BUSY BRAGGING ABOUT MATERIAL THINGS THAT SHOW

I'M NOT LONESOME AND MY LIFE IS FULL I HAVE LOVE IN MY LIFE AND I DON'T NEED YOUR BULL DO YOU BURY YOUR HEAD IN THE SANDS OF LIFE WITH YOUR WORDS DIGGING IN CUTTING DEEP LIKE A KNIFE I HAVE FACED MY LIFE I HAVE NOTHING TO HIDE I'M LIVING REAL LIFE WITH TRUE HONESTY AND I HAVE SELF-ESTEEM NOW, DOWN DEEP INSIDE

Charlotte M. Peiler

Mother You have wanted so much for your children that you never had But I don't know what you missed that made you sad Isn't it enough that I love you as you are? I don't want to be a doctor or a lawyer I just want to know that whatever I so, you'll accept menot approve of me Just accept me For that I would love you forever

Charlotte M. Peiler 22

The Little Broken Heart Excitement registered across my face. My teacher announced that we were going to make valentines for the seniors citizens at St, Luke's Nursing Home. My classmates, at once, began busying themselves by cutting, pasting, and coloring . For an hour, we labored over our gifts of love . Glue oozed from the edges, and the hearts were crooked, but I didn't care. I couldn't wait until we met the people and make them happy . Ready to fight the cold, we bundled up in bulky boats, mittens, hats, and snowboots. Twoby-two, holding our partner's hands we marched the two blocks to the nursing home. When we arrived, a smell lingered in the air, and we wrinkled our noses, as the nurses greeted us with smiles. I stood on my tiptoes to see over the boy in front of me. The walls of the room were a light green, and the curtains were yellow with brown strips running horizontally. The senior citizens sat facing a small stage that was about one foot off the floor. Our teacher shoved us onto the stage . We listened as she made a speech about the meaning of Valentine's Day . She the unleashed us to spread our Valentine love to others . Smiling broadly, I handed a red and white laced valentine to an old woman with soft features and white hair. She shook her head and said she didn't need one of mine . I backed away, puzzled. I glanced around. The other kids were handing out their valentines with no problems . I moved on to a bald-headed man who appeared to be nice. I was wrong . He told me that he had enough valentines. With my lower lip trembling, I asked another 24

person . She told me she didn't want one either. I shuffled my way to a corner, holding back the tears threatening to spill over . Alone, I stood there until it was time to leave. Our parents were waiting for us then we arrived at the school. I grabbed my worksheet and storybook, and shuffled out to the car. My mom asked me what was wrong. I cried. Slowly at first, but then, the tears started to flow. I explained what happened over milk and chocolate-chip cookies. She pulled me into her lap, and hugged me tightly. I sighed. I was happy I had mother who understood the troubles of first grade . Kris Dassinger

~~QNN QQIJN.t() 2-b-liS"

Dawn Dew drops on a spider fine web. Morning streams in silver strands as day breaks .

Reflections Into the face of the past I now look, reflections of my as a child once forsook. The yellowed book pages of "Harriet the spy", an innocent face with red cheek and blue eye. The next scene I see is one of young love, like the soft downy feathers of a white dove. The reflection grows murky through dark waters of time, so I stop looking inward memories left are sublime. Jennifer VerMaas

Order Said to me was That the universe Is ordered Through evolution. Not designed But ordered. not God But evolution . I say Rather That order Is implicit in design. That God Designed order Into the world That He has made. Creativity Ingenuity Wonderful complexity; God's Spirit At work And at play. Danny Raymond Brinson

Success Success canot be measured Its meaning undefined Its variations unlimited Its really a state of mind. Self-respect and confidence That is the key Success is merely being The best that ~ can be . Jan scheer

"Sunspirit Seance" Sunspirit shining straight Soaring its essence Dancing and prancing Sunspirit seance,

through the blinds, into my mind. atop the snow, Tara hello .

Dave Seyler junior

Solid Rock The rock on the side of a hill Where I sit and dream alone, Absorbed in sunlight I watch Like a guardian over the birch valley I wonder if I'll ever reach my goal in life, but every Hermit, ole or young, once Had a home, and the solace That I have found is a Rock on the side of a hill Where I sit and dream alone.

Refrigerator I love you; Fell off the white, refrigerator today, and rested on the cold, brick Floor.

Brant J. Wardner

Stand-Up Two hogs waddled into a bar and sat down at a table facing the door. The bartender, who was a horse, trotted over and asked them to order. "Have you got anything moldy and smelly?" asked the first pig. "Is that a personal question?" asked the bartender . "Not at all," grunted the pig, "just bring me a barley special and throw in a little corn." "How 'bout you?" asked the bartender to the second pig." "I'll have the same," said the pig, "but make it a double." Just then a Labrador Retriever sprinted into the bar, wearing a muzzle . "Whew!" said the Labrador, "it smells like a sty in here . " The hog who ordered the double said, "I do have a sty but it's in my eye . " "In a pig's eye, there's the pig's sty," said the horse, bring the hogs their drinks and guiding the dog into the back room. In the back room tow hippos and an aardvark were deep into a game of five card draw . The dog sat down by the door. The bartender asked him, "Are you going to stay for awhile or what?" "I'll stay," said the dog by the door. Just then one of the hippos played a card and grunted, "Take that!" "Huh?" said the aardvark. And the hippo reported, "That." But the aardvark was hard of hearing so he asked the second hippo, "Was that 'that' that that hippo said?" But the second hippo was even harder of hearing, so he didn't answer. In back of the back room was another room where the chickens were tar wrestling. "I've got to get back to the back-back room," said the bartender, "but I'll get back here to the back room just as soon as I can." And he galloped to the door which he unlocked using his skeleton key . The . sight he beheld was not pretty; everyone in the back-back room was tarred and feathered so he left without taking an order and locked the door with his skeleton key . "That's a very handsome skeleton key," said the deaf hippo but the bartender didn't answer for he was a smart horse and knew that talking to a deaf hippo could only mean trouble . Just then the Labrador barked out his order so the bartender went back to the front where the figs were wallowing in their drinks. "What a bunch of pigs," thought the bartender to himself, and the truth be known he was a

bit of a species-ist . The horse looked at the antique clock over the fireplace but he'd never learned to tell time . He was waiting for his favorite filly who frequently frolicked in for fun, frankly, around twelve . Then at the stroke of midnight the mare arrived, old but twelve . Then at the stroke of midnight the mare arrived, only but not grey . Right about this time, though it might have been five minutes before or after, a leopard padded in leading a dodo on a silver chain. They headed for the north northwest corner of the bar and tried to blend I to the crowd, but it's hard to hide a dodo. The pigs drooling on the table noticed the tall feathered critter who stuck out like a sore opposable thumb. The first pig said, "That ungainly shackle bird is quite apparent; as unfitting in this company as a sore digit positioned well apart from uninjured members; a fully opposable injured thumb for instance . " The second pig said,"Yes, the dodo is distinct . " The dodo who had been listening and was somewhat insulted, squawked back, "I'm not extinct!" And the pigs felt they'd been put in their place, because of course they were . Life went on. The pigs ordered more swill . The labrador marked the door. In the back room the hippos working together. skinned the aardvark . The chickens tried removing the tar in the back-back room using acetate and were fried . Caesar came, Caesar saw, Caesar left on a Concord . The dodo died and the leopard sold the chain to a male frog who jumped at lhe silver opportunity . But then the first pig slid to lhe floor, crushing the apparently attractive amphibian and horse stamped his foot in disapproval. He closed the bar, burned it down, and ran to Kentucky because of his race. But he was older now, and feeble and coundn't find any others of equestrian nature; he felt he'd lost his race and allowed some local lowing longhorns to lead him lovingly to him to a lake . He felt he just couldn't win in this place . Which just goes to show; you can lead a horse to waler, but business management is another thing entirely . Mark Spitzer 32

A Spring Morning April in San Francisco was glorious. The warm sunshine dyed everything golden . White clouds swam in the light blue sky. Shiny cars ran on the streets. The salty smell of ocean and the fresh odor of French Roast melted my heart. Every morning, I would sit in San Francisco Coffee and enjoy a cup of black coffee. Every dawn I walked along the Ocean Beach, listening to the dolce harmony of wild waves, watching the sun dropping from horizon and sinking into seawater, saying ~Hin to strangers. The colorful clouds, the rising moon, and lanky sun painted the sky into a silent beauty . I could walk for hours and hours, feeling the soft sand under my feet and thinking about Mozart and Schubert and Lord Byron . Every Sunday, I went to the Golden Gate Park, enjoying time among the green leaves and wet air . The joyful river flew between the blossomed banks . Ducks played in the water . Birds sang in the trees. The whole city disappeared. I was left in a peaceful nature with a peaceful heart. Oh, this was San Francisco, my San Francisco . God was everywhere: inside the trees, on the hills, along the Ocean Beach . He was with me. The noisy crowd, the material world, and college or the career, China or America, all seemed unimportant. This was my world, the world of art. My heart was singing freely with love and peace. How happy to live ! To live only for art, for nature. How relax to be alone! Alone in the classic world of spirit . The ancient Chinese soul of Taoism rose in my mind . Life was for happiness, true happiness , not material desires, but spiritual enjoyment . I had found my God of love, the meaning of life, the fulfillment from studying, and the satisfaction of art. I was no longer confused, no longer afraid, and no longer lonesome . A new spirit was growing inside me, waiting for spring. Yes, I needed spring, the eighteenth spring 35

of my life, a free and independent spring, a young and passionate spring, a lonely and contentious spring. The force of life refreshed my mind; the feeling of youth flew over my body . Every cell was shaking, singing, and dancing. A new life was coming. The spring was coming. All the past was swept away. It was old, and I needed new . I needed spring, a beginning . What was those pains in the struggle of life? What was the life of human in this infinite universe? Every day, every minute, every second, life was leaving a little bit, and I was approaching an end, the end for all the creatures. What was the importance of anything in front of that end? My friends at Weiyu, the school teachers, poor Chinese village people at the train station, my teachers at Drew, the Honkongese students, the Yuppies at the coffee shop ... They were all the same; we were all the same. Suddenly I began to love these people . I saw myself among them, on a bus. We were all pushing each other to make space for ourselves. But as a result, the bus become more and more crowded, and we felt nothing besides sweat, noise, and pains . This bus was the life we had, and it was running to an end . How tragic life is! How foolish we humans are! Only nature was forever . Art was forever. How good it was to live only for beauty, only for wisdom! The spring was here . A thunder was coming. One morning when I walked out of the gate, a force of refreshing air rushed toward my exhausted body, flew into my weary heart, and woke up my shopworn soul . Oh, life ! This was the moment I had been waiting . Oh, eternity! Now was eternity! Someday I might die, but now I was alive. Now I could read , write, and love. Life was in the now . If I did not read now, I would still be an ignorant child when I died . If I did not write now, I would never leave anything to the ones I loved. If I did not become myself now, I would still wear a mask when I left 36

this world . Whatever goals I pursuit, whoever I wanted to become , I should start now . I heard the words of God in "Jean Christopher" : "I am not all that is . I am life fighting Nothingness . I am not Nothingness . I am the Fire which burns in the Night . I am not the Night. I am the eternal light . I am not an eternal destiny , soaring about the fight . I am free will which struggles eternally . Struggle and burn with me ." Above were the bl ue sky and the white clouds . I knew behind the cloud , there was another world ; I always knew. I laughed with all the joy in my ÂˇhearL . "God , I am on my way ."

Yumei Wu

r~,\

(/ \.

- ~'

~j~rJ/.'\ I' ,Â·~)\" _/'//) )\ ~t I

I..

'i.

,..\

..J

i;~

(

;I'

Lost the deathly whiteness of you r brow that day , and the curve of your horn rim glasses all come back to me now , as i lay stretched baked across your desk ... shivering and sobbing i cried out "Father Nelson , Father Nelson , my heart will always belong to you ," as you walked ou t the door fo r the last time taking a piece of you soul with you .. . as i lay here my body howls for the touch of your bony fingers agains t my skull , dear God ! to this day the very smell of Efferdent makes me shudder .

A Bowel of Cherries dandelions and butterflies purple grass and alizarin skies don ' t you know , everyone dies what you see is what you get and rose colored glasses ain ' t gonna change it so just remember , life doesn't dome with a starter kit l . a . robinson

The Kiss The kiss so sweet, Tender and caring Her soft skin, So young but old The love felt had no words . All was told With the tears on his cheeks . Slowly, a single droplet Fell to her, A token or love to stay with her Forever. Silently, he bent to her And kissed her lightly, Now remembering All the time gone by. The lines on his face Revealed nothing But his eyes left no secrets, As the casket was closed And his Life left him behind . Shawna Lee Gietzen

Smile Dancing with myself. Black, Iron Cages separating me from Sanity. Theirs wires Burn into my Fleshy palm; Blood ceases in All. Tears shed onto the Linoleum. People slip but Balance. I

cry,

For they Walk on in their worlds, Tossing Sneers over Shoulders. I have no strength to Fight anymore. I Whisper good-Bye And wave to their Backs .

Winter's Curse Feelings of loneliness squeeze the heart, Draining it of all its cheer and happiness. Jack Frost is my only companion Following me through the dreary streets . He teases and laughs, trying to paint my face red With his magical paintbrush. Faint echoes of bells and ho ho ho's from the past, Haunt in the back of my mind. Essence of the festive spirit Disappear until next year . Glancing up at the bleak, night sky Tears run down from my eyes, remembering. Hearing the crunch under my feet, Emphasizes the tranquillity surrounding me. Snowflakes rest on chapped, red lips, On eyelids too tired to blink. I trudge through the white wonder Wishing to find home . My dishearten spirit striving for sanctuary: searching for hope , Waiting to find it . Kristine Dassinger 43

The Epilogue by Yumei Wu "It is not a college that always makes a person; sometimes a person can make a college." Two years ago, I brought these words from my dearest high school teacher, came to the Midwest to start my college career. At that night, when the bus was driving through downtown, San Francisco, I bid farewell to the city-lights, the bridge, the ocean, and my bright future . In a small town of Montana, I dig into the dreams on which I have lived through out my life . That is a world or purity, the enjoyment of art, a hope of love ... Oh, no more . When I started to worked on Impressions, I was a humble servant for my master , the power of beauty and truth, but when I am writing this closing statement , I have been left alone in a cold, dark , deep night. This volume, Impressions ~' is so like the rest of my hope, a thin shadow of a living humanity. It turns out like a sick baby, whose fate may represent the fate of fine arts . What I have seen is a tragic scene : People who have intelligence do not have voices, and people who have voices do not have perception . Now when I am leaving, I present this sick baby as my gift to the place where I eventually learn to accept the world as it has been and to survive my soul from its earthly position. My sincere thanks goes to those who have given Impressions their works and support, Dr. Solheim who encouraged me when I was going to give up, my colleagues Lu Ann and Kris, my friend Melissa and Dr. Lamen. Keep on working, my friends . May your struggles be more forceful than mine . May your passions never pass away . I love you all, as much as I love life and spring, even if it is a spring without the sun ' s shining, and a life without anyone ' s understanding .