Ivy Leaves Journal of Literature and Art — Vol. 73

Page 1



Firelight Not

far

from the

we drove

river

stakes and poles

deep, the earth soft

from early

rain.

Bags

spread, tents raised,

we

kindled a low

The cookware:

fire.

forks,

pots, spoons, a jackknife, all

baptized in the coldness

of the river.

Later, the as the

smoke

rose higher

wet logs began

to dry.

The yellow flames threw heat on our faces and bit

back

at the chilly air.

Voices rose

in laughter

and faces, chapped and ruddy, brightened near the crackling flames.

The

danced

shadows across

in strange

firelight

the trees and limbs

stretched wide, opening to the

parade of

stars

Men camped The

above.

here often.

river, the fire

had seen

before.

Our

stories

their stories.

Our

lives, their

them

lives.

And we

all

grew

became

silent

in the seriousness of the night.

—Daryl McCard


Monkey's Wedding Day A Maddening Confusion reigns here drizzling in the sun.

falhng hke a sharpened blade

It's

and cutting everyone.

She shuts her eyes and joins her hands;

knows she cannot

she

And

pray.

while he beat her to the ground,

God's savior looked away.

Delirious thoughts swirling round,

he

tires

of games he's played.

As daggers swing

He

like

lives the choice

She

fights

him

off with

She screams a song of

Some

all

her might.

pain.

witches burning in the lake

Cry out

Do

pendulums

he made.

bitter refrains.

these punishments ever cease?

Will tortures not rescind? Lucifer's joy

His pain

is

is

in his grief.

in its end.

—Shane Bruce


Painting


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JO

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< Graphic Design


Recipe for a Male Vacation Take a

Know Add Veer

you forgot the map

the fact

to the right,

trip

a shortcut

because the sun

sets in the east

Turn your car 180° because you recognize a building you thought you almost saw

Add a Do Because

sense of desperation but not admit you're lost

this is a better

Bring your temper to a boil and Stayed

at

home because

tell

way, you'll see your wife you should have

there's so

Tell your kids that if they don't shut car, turn right

Do

around and go straight

this

home

not admit that you already have turned around

But couldn't find home

Do all,

if

it

were part of your anatomy

not admit you're lost

because After

much work to be done up you're gonna take

all

roads lead to

Rome, Georgia

Disney World, besides, we

kill

is

Rome

as nice a place to vacation as

mice where

I

come from and Rome has

a Hooters and a Putt-Putt

Turn

to the left,

Get lucky as a bus marked "Orlando" passes you. Serve with self-satisfaction because

You know

a shortcut.

—John Woodson


Kiss on the Glass Every shot poured Pierces

Why

my

heart

can

I

bullet.

never leave you?

You've promised

I

your glass

must you always come here,

And why

And

in

Hke a

still

you

me

so

many

times

will not change.

overflow with these emotions

That you can't even see

The

bottles block

Our love

is

my

your view.

addiction, while yours stirs

inside these bottles and slowly pulls

you away from me. I

kiss

you but

my

You're losing

And You

make you taste bittersweet. everything to swim inside those bottles.

while your

tears

lips

should be pressed to mine,

can only leave

Your

kiss here

—Shane Bruce

on the

glass.


The Ballad of Lonewolf He's a dude

He

on the prowl

that's

A man the chicks

all dig,

drives a black and

brown Omni,

A polyester pig. He It' s

himself "El

calls

Lonewolf

written on his car.

His hair's slicked back with Vaseline

And dyed

as black as

tar.

Undone, the buttons on

his shirt

Reveal his hairy chest.

Covered

and cheap cologne,

in gold

Don

He

looks his

He

loves Mary, Sue and

Betty,

Pam and

He even

Juan

best.

Jill,

Dee.

loves his wife and kids;

He's into bigamy.

But just the other night

I

heard

His wife had found him out.

She burned

his car

And socked him

and nudie books

in the snout.

Now

Lonewolf has no place

And

nothing

A

sad,

to

go

left to read.

unkempt and lonely man

Without a friend indeed.

Lonewolf wanders aimlessly. Polyester

all in

But there

is

He

still

shreds.

hope for

ol'

has his moped.

—John Woodson

Lonewolf:


/

I

Think of Lot's Wife think of Lot's wife

While

stand over the stove

I

Making Cornflake Chicken She cooked for someone

Much

the

way

do for you

I

Without jealousy I

more

think of her

As

put our son to bed

I

Tucking

As he

in his

kicks

Before

cover off

it

can extinguish

I

The Winnie-the-Pooh Lamp

And I

close the door behind

wonder

Like me, looked

With I

as

much

watch you

In your

me

if she,

at

her husband

love as

me

sitting

work

pants, dirty gray

You, dusty beautiful

With your hat backwards Glasses balanced on your nose Staring, not at

But I

at

me

there

TV

think of Lot's wife

The

friends she

With I

your

secrets

made around her

sworn

to

keep

think of Lot's wife

And

I

Not

to

—

could not promise

look back

Teri Smith


CO

t: CD

O DC


10

hnt*

Figure Drawing

l^^if

CD


How to End a By

Relationship

sunlight,

in the tender grass

of

a farmer's field,

shower

her with the

of

karyoke.

when

gift

By

moonlight,

the clouds rest in

the heavens, challenge

game of By candlelight,

her to a romantic

thumb tilt

wrestling.

your champagne glass

toward the

stars,

and

embrace her ever so gently full nelson.

as she

By

in the

nightlight,

moves her body

next to you, very softly play an excerpt from armpit.

By

Swan Lake,

sunlight,

she will be gone.

—Jeremy Shirley

using your

11


Wisdom Dancing

Wild As we

arrived, the sun

was already low in the sky, painting the hung from the corners of the

floor a rich red that stretched and

grand piano. The Lake Hotel in Yellowstone National park has stood for over a hundred years.

It is

a huge, yellow building that

near the shores of the Yellowstone Lake. The lobby, lined

sits

with a wide, open expanse of windows, gives sunlit

water that shimmers and reflects off

The soft pastel colors of the of warmth and cheer. floor.

its

all

attention to the

polished

wood

furniture create an atmosphere

My friend Heather and I would often drive the 25 minutes We worked there as wranglers, guiding

down from Canyon.

horseback rides around the rim of Cascade Canyon. The atmosphere

at

Lake Hotel was soothing

dusty labor back at the Corral. 12

elegant dining

room

that also

—a

different

We would

world from the

share an appetizer in the

overlooked the lake. Goat cheese

pizza laden with spinach, feta cheese and artichoke lar

meal. Yet

it

was

was

the popu-

the grand piano in the spacious lobby that

always drew me. The delightful notes floated through the hotel like a

warm,

On

soft breeze.

this particular

noticed an elderly

evening,

woman

sat in

I

sitting

a chair near the piano.

near me. She wasn't old though.

Through the age spots and the wrinkles uine brightness that

I

came from deep

in her face

within.

shone a gen-

Her husband

appeared and presented her with a glass of wine. The image that

came

to

mind was

that of

making a wedding

toast.

A

toast that

many have made with whole-hearted devotion and blossoming love only to find

it

whither and the glass of wine turned to vine-

gar.

This couple had retained the blossom and handsomely aged the wine.

It

had become

priceless.

They were

From honeymoon. As I

forty-second wedding anniversary. it

could have been their

ing this realization,

I

looked over to

child, clad in a red velvet dress.

my

celebrating their

the look on their faces, sat there quietly enjoy-

right

She danced

and noticed a small

in little circles, per-


fectly

unaware of her surroundings.

moments

that

comes

you

to

It

was one of those magical

as if all the layers of reality

were

peeled back to reveal something precious and very necessary. sat there

and drank

moments while

in those

We

the lobby vibrated

with guests rushing here and there, anxious to begin their escape

from the

As

real world.

the orange curtain of the sun began to slide beneath the

lake outside, Heather and Corral.

The

drive from

I

started our drive

Lake

to

Canyon

is

back

to

beautiful.

Canyon The road

curves around along the Yellowstone River though Hayden

The land

Valley.

sun

we

tance. that

is

vast and green. In the midst of the sleepy, red

could see sulfur steam rising from hot pools in the dis-

These secret cracks and vents are on of the many wonders

add

to Yellowstone's mystical quality.

Another impressive thing about of Bison

that live in

Hayden

Valley.

this drive is the large It is

herds

hard to believe that 1 '^

—

herds of 50,000 or more once roamed the land. There were less than 30 bison it

seemed

left in

as if they

that time, the

new

the Northwest at the turn of the century, and

would never have much chance

Transcontinental Railroad

to survive.

Company

At

feared

derailment of their trains by this massive animal. Men'were hired to ride these trains, shotguns in hand, slaughtering thousands of

bison. There

Indian's

was an added

main source of

benefit in killing off the "savage"

survival.

The decimation of bison became

necessary for progress and change. Late in the

summer we wranglers rode up

the valley and relived history.

green because of the long

into another area of

The grasslands were excessively

summer

rains.

This richness

made

the

herd of bison in the distance stand out. Their dark bodies were animated. The females were nursing the

little

calves

— some

newly born. These young calves were clumsy and weak, babies are. They rose and

fell

on uneven

legs.

large males challenge each other. Their heads

shook rhythmically, heavily, as ground.

their

We

as

most

watched the

hung low and

hooves churned up the dusty


As other.

I

sat there I realized the loyalty

thought about the pictures

I

One was

of a snow-covered bison plowing patiently through

and four-foot

three-

they must have to each

had seen of the winters here.

I

keep going,

There must be an incredible drive

drifts.

to survive

—a powerful

instinct. It

to

made me wonder

about mankind.

The

it

came

elderly couple at the hotel

with good intentions.

won't turn

We

cultivate the

to vinegar. In the

to mind.

wine

in

We

all start

out

our lives and hope

name of progress we

forge for-

ward. In

memory,

I

oblivious to what life's

saw the innocent

was around

her.

little girl,

There

simple beauty carry us. There

is

dancing her dance,

necessity in letting

is

a stirring in the soul to

forge life's dreams.

comes

In this forging winters.

14

The bison

survive. For the bison,

them

in

there

we have

is

these events

wild

virility to

dom

to retain

a season of hardship every winter. Like

to fight

odds seem to be against

From

the strength to weather the cold, dark

Yellowstone overcome incredible odds to

I

and be strong

to survive,

even

if

the

us.

see

life in

wild

wisdom dancing. The snow drifts; the wis-

forge through life's winterous

and correctly age the wine of

of the child in us to

make dreams become

—Sharon Felder

life,

and the dancing

reality.


Color Theory


16

Painting


Sonnet

Paper

for a Late

(with apologies to Elizabeth Barrett Browning)

When

shall

But

So

my

it's

I start

when

I'll start

thee? This

must decide.

I

come

the words

pencil won't work, for

with a computer thee before

I'll start

Most dreaded

my

I

must

to

my

it's

head,

run out of lead.

write.

hair turns white.

thing, this paper

I'll

wind

compose.

that blows.

I'll start

thee freely, as the

I'll start

thee quickly, before

I'll start

thee, frankly, to avoid the rush

Of exams and To make Games,

such, as scheduled

starts to fuss.

on the

syllabus.

thee with an energetic push

I'll start

I

Cox

it

through

tears of all

I'll start

my

life

shall but love thee better

—Katherine Ross

thee despite the mess,

and, if

when

I

choose,

finished.

17


Las Vegas I sat

on the

tiled

Where window

edge of the hotel fountain,

light lined pale

murals

Along the black asphalt of the parking Several

men

lot.

passed by and disappeared into a nearby diner.

Their cigarette smoke danced in strange patterns

Before settling into the dark Nevada sky.

A woman holding "IQ

a basin stood behind me;

Water ran down her naked arms and

Eyeless, she peered into the distance, and

To

I

there.

turned

see an ambulance speed past us both

The red of its I

form a pool

legs to

raised a

My eyes had And my

faded into the neon of the Las Vegas

lights

hand

to

my own

sunken

skin, sallow,

face and

like those of the statue,

hung loose from

The

night

And

the golden fish rose silently.

wore on

as

I

my

bones.

broke the surface of the water,

Prisoners beneath the liquid glass.

—Daryl McCard

felt its features.

strip.


Fantasy Land Lights engulf the desert valley

Wrapping around the glamorous Stacked along the

hotels

strip

Where neon hums and

pulsates.

Images of a fantasy land

The city marked With risk takers Filled with

optimism and euphoria.

A cowboy Atop a legendary den

Of inequity Greeting curious eyes.

A one-factory Where

And

town

dice click

coins sing

With metal

harmony

trays.

People bearing their savings

Like religious offerings

To the great goddess Of chance. There will be winners

And even more

losers

In the glittering

Enchantress land.

Fortune seekers Will chance time and time again Until the

From

dawn

melts the night

the strip.

—Leslie Randall

1


Portrait of Feelings Is this

what

is left?

Nothing taken too

The

We

wish

come Soon

without

to live

Pain or

I

pity.

to visit the future.

it

be the

will

A rose Now

I

remember

bitter

to

past.

my

Nothing's the same as .^2—

far:

night seems so endless.

dreams,

be so sweet,

with sleepless nights.

The pain keeps growing, The

tears

keep

falling.

Deeper and deeper we

sink.

Fighting to gain control

Over

all that

we

love.

Looking back there can be no

The only

What we

think,

real truth.

truth is

what we want, and what we

feel.

—Jason Manuel


the involved in

everyday culture, political, or commercial issues, the poster at its best has been... an extraordinary social and artiste

modern poster

document."

21

O E CO

cc

c CO

Q Graphic Design Poster


22

Photography


Dust Quietly sweeping.

Dust from the broom

is

taken back from where

it

came.

Silently weeping.

Her eyes hollow, pondering thoughts of mortality.

Slowly creeping.

Time It

is

no

friend.

robs and abuses.

Gently reaping.

Dust from the earth Takes her back from which she came.

Forever sleeping.

—Jeremy Shirley

23


Roses The

roses fade in the morning hght

as our love

Red

Sun

in the

from within our

hearts.

drains from the petals,

while the smell of sweetness lingers as the caress of your touch on

I

look

at the lost

my

face.

beauty of the roses

and wonder why everything beautiful never

lasts.

The answer never comes

to

Only the fading roses die and our love the past

is left

mind.

lost,

behind.

—Bryan Cox 24

A Moon

Seasons

for All

Spring Moon's alchemy

Turns

hills

and streams

to silver

Shining through the dark.

Pale

moon

in pale sky.

Shadowy ghost in white Of thin summer clouds. Great pumpkin

And

sheets

moon glows

glides over

Pumpkintown

Wearing Halloween. Old

Man Winter Moon

Sleeps on feather beds of clouds

Through the

frosty night.

^Jean Brabham McKinney



Shawn

Elliott

Misti Fuller

Kelli

Holzer

Stephanie Nichols

April Price

Darren

Editorial Staff

Rambo

Sherrell Crawford

Sharon Felder

Jason Manuel

Daryl

McCard

John Woodson

Faculty Advisors

Wayne Cox Susan Wooten


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