Ivy Leaves Journal of Literature and Art — Vol. 74

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Yarmer HO eold

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mutfi #1

totviirtin III

an

Arabic Travel As

my caravan And

I

look at the

v\/ish

and water

blisters

I'm thinking,

sides think of drinking.

could stop and reclaim

I

each hand

that cover

men on my

While the

I

races through Arabian sands

of coolness

my

all

breath,

"What a lone golden world," would

say.

I

But

OS

try

I

might,

Just

I

would only bring death-

another Arabian day!

My camel slowing, the sun's scorching hot And the sand on the ground burns like fire. is

Temptation

is

glowing

On goes the But the sun

for

a

soft,

worm food

But the thought of

springy cot

spurs

Although But

I

it is

see

above

isn't

as bright.

another Arabian

now, round,

With no calm-like patience I

Lying

in I

its

graces-

night!

dark now, the heat it

higher.

day, without an oasis.

Without a nice breeze, to show us Just

me

like

is still

there.

a dome.

and no mercy

ride the last miles to

to spare,

my home.

darkness, as the wind beats the door, think of

Should

As

I

I

my

stay, for try

life

I

with such sorrow.

can't take

much more

not to think of tomorrow?

—Adrienne Geer

UW fhfBtBf FBflBCte on Post-War Feminism, the Nuclear p

Popularized

in

Family, song.

and Minute Rice

Pasteurized

in

myth.

Watered down through generations, as a costume one day for Laverne and Shirley look-a-likes. Or worse, a tattoo on an overweight biceps.

Homefront Heroine, "

"

the hardest job I've ever had.

Competing with Camel as poster giH for the

girls for

unarmed

calendar coverage forces

left behind to cook, sew, and weld pounding rivets into B-24's, singing "We can do it girls ..."

Sandwiched between flag and ham and thirty pounds of rivet gun, a regular Rockwell print for The Saturday Evening Post.

troops

.

<â&#x20AC;˘.

-A-

But imagine sending your six year old to school

promising her father's return

from the bomber he's

flying

year old's house, a bomber you helped make between

over another

six

scrambling eggs at 5 a.m. and tucking kids in with Dr. Seuss and Uncle Sam. You too may be a nuclear family before

it's all

over with.

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;Jennifer Brown

The

truth,

His

it

seems,

is

men do and

In all

often found

say,

bumbled mind can't comprehend jumbled ugly mess.

This

He wipes

And

brow, he

his

grits his

teeth.

steps out for a breath.

The moist thick Clouds Vound

from

air

his slight

deep

within

enchantment;

The bloodshot numbness of

his

Again wipes

heart bleeds.

He

I

am

in

his

hand

silence

stumble on

man once began my own defense,

see

air,

"I

I

out

cries

brow, as

his

not the

it

in

the

I

as;

the trees;

Why don't they see?

Why do they want to be a

society

That strays so far from conformity.

Only to

fall

A people

right

back

into

that long so

its

much

slippery grip? for individualism

That they create predictable robots.

They

all

They

all

want want

to

be

different;

to fight the norms, break the codes, rebel.

Break the norms around your ankles.

Break the codes you grasp

to, vertically,

Looking on the other side, longing for

Look at your world

each day.

truth.

differently.

Stand on a desk and look at an office; Watch a conversation from afar.

Don't go against conformity like everyone

Go

against the norms that

Not rebelling

you from

else.

reality.

real rebellion.

is

Not pretending

Not deceiving

rip

is

is

real creating.

true deception.

Throw your arms up and receive your Maker."

Shaking the cold,

Snow Into

the party,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Asa Moron

mountain he walks bock

brisk,

off his jacket,

and

tells

himself to

be new,

Heather

Rollins

Untitled

Conte'

A

Farewell to

Hope

Clouds thunder across the

Winds

roll

sky.

across the dark plain.

foretells what happen on this sleepy day. yesterday, bade my love farewell.

The atmosphere

About Just

My

is

to

I

gentle wife looked through

my

Eyes into

my

And now

the Roundheads ore coming.

Chanting

their psalms,

heart

one

last

time,

ready to

fight.

Soon would see what would make I

An army impassioned Of

history.

with the mission

purifying His bride.

And then my

heart

was

filled

with

Uncertain loyalty to the king.

Had bowed my knee I

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;Christopher Fyock

to

a statue of gold?

Cleaning Yellow

is

Woman

a good

a yellow

color,

flowing,

with soft red flowers for

and a

think,

I

dress,

and

long

at the Mall

big

hatâ&#x20AC;&#x201D; one

brim turned

good measure, amber straw,

of

just so.

She spoke no word,

my

looked not but

I

way,

liked her yellow dress,

with soft red flowers,

and the way (as

if

her hips

to music),

moved out wearing amber

as she

(with

swayed

of sight,

straw

a bright blue flower)

at a saucy angle

atop her head.

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;Margaret

B.

Hayes

Venus In

her

I

see the

vision of

wonno-be me,

the

the one with longer, golden locks.

The

me that's

almost there

or has been, at times.

Flattered myself for years as her type,

something about her The or

was

and

it

I

recognized

the eyes, tempera

hair,

in

myself.

skin

soft belly, small breasts

other private imperfections?

More

flattered

engraved on

when he

his left

said she

was a

tribute to

arm,

not the side most often seen.

Once

again, Venus stands

as allegory for those Born of shale

blown

in,

in

who have been shamed.

and foam and wind from the

waved

west,

around, put out to sea again.

Painted more often than Odalisque,

although more deceitful and plain each time.

Loving

all

despising

men with equal measure, women with equal fame.

all

To be admired

less

the fear of the

shift in

If

than one, years to

come.

they hod known,

would they hove worshipped her the same?

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Jennifer Brown

me

Julia Goldie

10

Transcendent

Etching

Shadow Dancers What elegant and graceful men dance deep Into the night They dance Into the darkest wood without a trace of fright They lead the Into the land

girls

with lonely hearts so tenderly

A smooth and sculpted A lovely pair of sky blue They dance The

spells

you

But

I

like living

moke young

fear deeply for the ones

dream

girls

of

will

call

or so close before twilight

who dance

themselves astray

they ever see the golden

and wide

so far

the

for

the sad

light of

day

and brokenhearted

shadow dance they cannot be outsmarted

love to those who dance in shock beneath the moon who dance and sing out loud with the shadow dancer's

ever you see a

shadow dancer

Never could he treasure you,

try

not to

or treat

you

fall in

like

But

when you dance let

them dance

the

their

When shadow dancers â&#x20AC;&#x201D;Adrienne Geer

shadow dance,

tune

love

the

dove

Gentlemen and handsome dears the dancers seem

So

smiling faces

magic scenic places

call with

The ones

If

dawn

after

And when you dance So

eyes,

with the sun, stand firm beside the light

For never again

The dancers

wavy hair complexions hard and fair

body, with long, dark,

wicked shadow dance with handsome

their

they cast

You never see them If

away

where shadows dwell where sleep and sorrow ploy

to

be

then, never are you free

hungry dance, and

let

them go on

lead you along with them

you'll

their

way

always stay

My

Dish

gonna

O.K., I'm

and don't want him

call

I

another date. What should "Hi,

can

just

take

This

my

in

leave Just

it.

Thomas.

huck

dish

the entrywoy.

my

and want

to

I

Thomas.

"Hi,

wondering

calling to it

keep him

huck

can leave

dish.

it

This

Theresa.

is

you got

if

my

in

it

my

last

He

just

drop

off,

it

is

I'll

try

It's

message? Anyways, drop

either

It

it

off

my

dish or

just

pick

I'll

outside your place or you

has been over a month and

me

pick

my

it

up,

things are going

about

to get

time.

Theresa. O.K., is

how

I'm just

dish.

one more

How

fine.

have

or

been a few weeks and

keeps calling and asking

Thomas.

everything

would hove no

I

entrywoy. Xay?"

"black" on him. No, "Hi,

It's

a bag and leave

in

and doesn't even mention the

fine,

it's

That might sound pre-

set.

thinking that

Well, I'm starting to worry.

no

will

is.

you that you can

tell

up. Just

No one

O.K.

"I'm-never-gonna-get-marrled-so-I'd-better-buy-

idea what Bloomingdole's

I'm just

be

It'll

you

Listen,

I

myself-some-dishes" Bloomingdoles tentious,

are you?

Maybe, should mention that

O.K., that didn't work.

part of

How

a bag. Thanks!"

in

it

want

I

say?

I

Theresa.

is

thinking

dish?

listen, If

I'm fine, the cat

is

you don't want to

you can moil

Just

it.

huck

in

it

a box!"

It's

guys

like

these

who make

dating deadly.

can say? He keeps leaving messages I

missing

12

guy

is

me

to

each

other!"

trying to

be the

I

like,

don't think he knows

moke me crock and

typical "black

already told

me

Well, for the

betterment of

it's

What

"We just keep

how

working.

lucky that

He

just I

that he thinks I'm suppressing race,

I'll

give

it

my one

is.

This

wonts

woman" he just knows am.

my

else

He's

"blackness." lost try.

"Hello, really

miss

want my

it.

let

me

That's over.

dish bacl<,

The cat misses

up. Just

"I

think

I

miss

Just let

it.

No more

discussion I

me know when and

know what's going

beyond

description.

Hell,

I

You take

maybe,

I'm

Okay,

and

I

it's

It

stress of

make a

my

dish,

in

would

months,

pick

it

for

F.

Theresa to take

is

home. Success! You are

happens a

sinister

being

to

be a

dish this

study of the

'dish-less.'

Sorry,

I

one word got through

deal. Since

you

'miss'

to

our con-

why don't we have a

conversations based on the return of

I

I'll

You meet someone.

on.

just

a participant

let's

'miss'

home tomorrow

time

leftovers

couldn't help myself. Look, at least

versation

the set

You claim the main course

pins up.

female psyche under the

youâ&#x20AC;&#x201D; 'miss.'

I

don't know, you probably collect any and

bobby

everything from time, Or,

in

to me,

needed.

invited over to dinner.

stealer.

The other dishes

it.

Theresa,

You are

a pot

listen

know."

it!

No more

once again. Please

Theresa,

it's

my

dish? Coil me.

I'll

be

night after eight." like

to believe that that

who con be

will

do

it,

but after three

sure?

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;F. Theresa Gillard

13

stand Fast Looking

The

down

from the top of the castle.

could hardly be seen.

city

Fog cover'd some unl<nown

Who knew what our

We

story.

would bring?

mile walk

looked through the house of

IVlary

the Scot

Taking in all that we could.

When we walked to the back, we saw the mountains And an old cross in the abbey that stood. still

I

remembered how

A thousand

there

years ago,

They preached the

sit

each

light of

But by the sword of the

They used to

once was a brotherhoodâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;

Upon

for

fell.

hill,

Christ.

the faith

cost every

that high

that darkness.

in

pagan they

The words of Moses and

it

God

in his cell.

before that old cross copying by hand

They contended

Though

at prayer

last

once

one

of

for

all

them

handed down

his

life.

the elders met centuries later

To swear an oath by the cross of their fathers: To defend the only one true and Against the

They entered

lies

into

and

idols of

and cut a solemn covenant by blood

Though outnumbered Death was

right faith

Cromwell's invaders.

fifty

to one.

certain, but they

looked

Before that dark

down

to the cross

day had become.

"Be strong and very courageous" read the monks and the

covenanters

Who May

would not bow

to idols

and deny what

is

true.

we, with them, deny ourselves and pick up our

Willing to die

and take

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Christopher Fyock

its

blood oath too.

cross.

To create and

To say

give insight,

great things.

My thoughts seem

Why would

you

so

Or even consider the That cover

my world?

Conveying

their

Seems

I

and useless.

trite

care,

issues

deeper meaning

and hopeless.

pointless

want to contribute,

To

sort through burdens,

To

sort through the puzzle

my

But

And my

you

face.

words

lack of

half-hearted desire

miserably each time.

Fail

The stagnant phrases That

slip

my

from

Graze by you

lukewarm

lips

softly,

leaving perhaps a

memory.

But a fading memory.

My words To

hold not the strength

strike that nerve,

To dredge out That

will

But,

my friend,

And

My

I

that fervor,

to fight.

will affect

perseverance

is

my

mentor.

you.

ever-present, all-encompassing.

And

totally infectious attitude

Will reach you.

I

will

continue to smile upon that day.

-Asa Moran

First

Love

moment

Takes only a Bleed

away

Held too Its

petals

its first

tightly in fall,

to crush

sweet

a

rose.

flush.

the bud.

weeping,

to the ground.

Did

I

ever love you?

In

the beginning

In

a

was

I

all

sweetness.

while,

wondered.

For,

Held too Like

My

tightly.

the rose. love bled slowly

from your hand.

Dripping, dripping,

dripping.

Through your

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;Margaret

16

B,

fingers.

Hayes

Chris

Dunagin

Me, You, the Music

Linoieum

Print

17

Bhon Gaines

Reticulation of Faith vs. ttie

New

IVIartyrs

Acrylic

Requiem The old apple tree has

fallen

down,

broke loose at the root

No one No one The

picks

it

takes

up;

away.

it

trunk,

once

firm, tall, strong,

stretched out

like

a

slain Goliath.

Gone,

its

time of

Relinquished,

Given up

its

Collapsed it

lies

its

fruitfulness.

hold on earth.

reach to

into

grieving

sky.

a helpless head,

beneath a green vine

that hugs close its

bare branches and

covers

One

its

nakedness.

feels like

to see

it

shedding tears

humbled so-

Like tip-toeing

past

a grove.

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;Margaret B. Hayes

19

Carrie

I

stumbled upon a waterfall

Embedded deep within the woods; child became againAbove me a tree house my father made.

And the creek where tiny minnows escape

A

I

hands.

Curiosity's

little

Caught

in

between the

Was an

old rotten

In

a glimpse,

I

shirt

I

rocks.

tore chasing Carrie—

saw them—

Us— Running through the

we just

Sometimes

Carrie never

And know I

A vision

of

Rolls slowly

would

hid from

in

life.

coll for help.

her father

me,

let

her

fall,

the water before

over the rocks to the

—Amy Brooks

20

trees.

I

ran

silent

away-

bottom.

,0WS softly

The

Fields of

The sounds

o,,

Pan

of pipes are floating past along these

sloping hills

To

see the

gnomes and

fairies

dancing encloses

me with thrills The

pixies skip

behind

my feet, as our host sings

nice nearby

He blows

on

a note

his silver pipe as

he gazes

at

the sky

The faims

all

dance and

click their

hooves on the

pebbles by the Stream

The atmosphere

is

warm and bright like a most

amazing dream.

The moon glows blows

As

softly

on

my skin as the breeze

<

like a fan

the goblins

y

moan, with

my arms held high,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;^Adrieime Geer

^\\

ao6

(,'V'

M^

along the fields of Pan. J

\^

'^^

sinll ^XK^^

^

.A^â&#x20AC;˘

'''^Id fiigh, flfonjj

tdcr

s

<<: f-

^ David Parker

22

The Franco-American Experiment

Acrylic

IVY LEAVES STAFF Editorial Staff

Asa Moran Christoplner Fyocl< Jennifer Brown

Design Staff

Andy

Burleson

Gaines David Parker Emily Reese Brian

Jill

Roberts

Heather

Cover

Rollins

Art

and

Typographic

Design:

Jill

Illustrations:

Roberts

David Parker Reese

Emily

Joanna Simmons Faculty Advisors

Susan Wooten

Wayne Cox

Special thanks to Walt Shockley for technical support.

and

Aliya

George

Kent Dorn

Untitled

Mixed Media Painting