Resonance Literary Arts Magazine of Mount Aloysius College
Vol. VI , Spring 2019
Contents
Resonance is created based on submissions from Mount Aloysius Colleg students and vetted by a reveiw board comprised of students. staff and faculty.Housed by The Belltower student newspaper,Resonance can be found at: belltower.mtaloy.edu/arts/
Tara Chappell...............4,7,8,14,15 Alyson Corey..........3,6 Lucy Craig..............3,5,10 Emily Holland..............3,6,9,10,11,12,13 Becca Houghton.............4,6,8,11,12 Chelsea Hutnick...........4,7,13 Nathan Smith..........4,5,7,9,10,11,12 Submissions
Student Reveiw Board Faculty Advisors Tara Chappell Emily Holland Jessica Jost-Costanzo Becca Houghton Christopher Burlingame Chelsea Hutnick Hailey Ritchey Front Cover:Emily Holland
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The Resonance reveiw board seeks : short fiction; short, creative non-fiction; poetry; photography ; and photos of fine art each semester at mid-term. Submissions from any undergraduate or graduate student are welcome. Please send all submissions to: BellTowerArts@mtaloy.edu.
Back Cover: Tara Chappell
Design Becca Houghton
I will stay Lucy Craig Every word you write swirls inside my brain You’re right when you say that there are days when it would be easier to give up Easier to let the sun go down and let the darkness take over But you’ve asked me to stay and to not give up so soon So that’s what I’ll do for you and only you I’ll be there with you through thick and through thin I’ll never leave you alone that’s a promise I swear You tell me that I’m beautiful and I want to believe you But it’s hard you see for what you see is the opposite of me But I will try as long as you do the same and we can see each other through to the end I want to be there when he decides you’re enough I want to see you fulfill your true destiny and to always live life the way you were meant to All those adventures and sights around the world would be nothing without you To have someone to share them with is all that I ask So stay here with me and please never leave for I need you just as much as you need me
Above :Photograph by Emily Holland
First Bloom Alyson Corey It’s lonely to be the first bloom You wake from a long sleep Excited to see the new world Winter snow melting away Revealing the long-hidden green Only to find yourself all alone It takes patience to be the first bloom To know others are on their way But it will take time It’s hard not knowing How long you have to wait When all you want, is some to share the world with It’s worth it to be the first bloom To greet every new flower that opens their bud with wisdom they will soon learn To be able to introduce each fresh bloom to the spring earth To be there for every single one So, they don’t have to be alone Like you were
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Battles or Wars
Blue
The Battle
Nathan Smith
Chelsea Hutnick
Becca Houghton
They hunt us down like cattle Beseech our brittle bones But this is just the battle Our war is still at home
Salt dries my mouth. Water fills my lungs. Grasping at nothing, Its all out of reach. It is made so. They’re watching. Boats surround me, Just far enough away. They could come closer, But they don’t. Some wish to help, But they’re trapped. Stuck, stranded Staring from a distant beach Helpless, hopeless
I am in a constant battle with my own mind And there is nothing that I want more that this war to end
My family is in danger And I haven’t heard a word I’m seated next to strangers My death is most assured I decide to pray to Jesus In hopes he’ll keep me safe I hope his mercy frees us And that we can flee this place But beyond the walls of anguish No hope seems to arise All I have is one last wish That I’ll join you when I die.
I am tired of feeling tired I’ve been strong for far too long And it’s starting to show Keep fighting they say, keep fighting and keep staying strong. You are stronger than you realize This battle will end soon Stop those tears in your eyes I want to scream at the top of my lungs How much longer? How much longer do I have to stay strong? Pretend that I’m okay? Because I’m not I just need you to know that I am not okay But that doesn’t mean that I am giving up It means that even though I may not be okay right now I know my happiness is worth fighting for And so I will fight on
Below : Drawing by Tara Chappell
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I just needed you to know I will fight on
Sorry
Push
Nathan Smith
Lucy Craig
I’m sorry if this poem is boring
Push yourself...push yourself
I’m sorry if it takes to long to read
That’s all I hear
I’m sorry for talking too much
Running over and over again in my mind
I’m sorry for apologizing too much, but you see when you are raised to believe that your life is a mistake then you begin to feel the need to apologize for your mistake. When you are told time and time again that everything is your fault, you begin to believe everything is your fault. As I grew old I learned to turn my pain into sadness, my sadness into submission, and my submission into sorry. When I tell you I am sorry it is not just because I didn’t mean to run into you, it is because I regret my existence. I question my worth everyday and wonder I if it all even means something. I hear my thoughts flying through my head like a swarm of bees from one thought to another leaving a sting in my ears. My eyes dart around the room frantically like a rabbit running from a fox. Checking every exit sign, locating every door, concocting each worse case scenario and obsessing over the deep and heavy blanket of possibilities that weighs me down. I’m sorry I’m shaking, but my legs clank like the cogs of contraption far too old to be using while my hands shake like tuning forks stuck in a constant state of vibration. I clasp my hands together to stop the shaking, but the tuning forks produce no sound and the silence is piercing. The silence is so loud that it burns my ears and clouds my thoughts. I’m sorry I’m being so quiet. I’m sorry I never have anything interesting to say. The pit in my stomach grows to something I can no longer ignore as it fills with the words I never spoke and the jagged shards of my heart. My chainmail skin is stronger now, but it only holds my pain. I’m sorry if I hurt you and I’m sorry you hurt me. I’m sorry that I’m sorry and I hope that you won’t be. But my happiness is hollow like a decomposing tree and when the night is over I’m sorry that I’m me.
What if eventually I push myself too far I’ve been known to do that And yet here I am Pushing myself until I’m blue in the face And I can’t feel my legs or my lungs I want to make you proud but I don’t know if I can I try to keep up but it’s just not the same Maybe eventually you will be proud but until that day I’ll just keep pushing on
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For Still I Rise
Sonnet 1
Alyson Corey
Becca Houghton
You thought You broke me, That I lay in shattered pieces on the ground You thought you’d left nothing of me, A Humpty Dumpty Only Ash I could never put back together But from these pieces, still I rise You thought your crimson words of flame Burned me away Till nothing but cold embers Remained of who I was. But still I rise You thought your singeing sighs and giggles, behind cupped hands had one ounce of power. Your withering whispers, a flint to set me aflame. I’m not sorry to tell you, That despite everything you thought You were wrong. For still I rise You thought I’d fall to fire? How I laugh As I soar above the angry crowd tongues flaming, eyes of hate Words of fire slung to last Leaving nothing but sodden ash But honey, from those ashes you left behind A phoenix was born Born anew, thought they’d perspire Still they slung their words of fire Thought I was free But hate was there waiting for me Straight up I flew And your flames get all the hotter. Make it hotter Your heat never burned me Haven’t you heard? You can’t fight fire with fire.
This kind of love is hard to find My passion for us cannot be denied I will love you always until this world comes to an end There is no one I’d rather have as my forever best friend I’ve been crazy about you since day one. Although this new found distance between us is not much fun. We are strong, even though we are apart. No amount of miles can take you out of my heart . I know this is temporary, this distance of ours. But I miss you so very much like a honey bee misses a flower. When I lay my head down to rest, I always dream of you. Waiting for the day our homes become one, instead of two. I love you my dear and that’s no lie. As we grow older, I will continue to love you until the day I die
Left Photograph by Emily Holland
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Gone
The World
Nathan Smith
Chelsea Hutnick
My tears drip down your windowpanes Down shower drains like quiet rains
You are the world; uncertain, scared stark. An eruption within is worn like ash. The heat trembles your fingers as you dash Out of site. Avoid others, leave no mark. Storms rage on within your heart; all is dark.
I turned to you, but you did not see You could not see, right in front of me The sound you heard was my glass heart breaking My chest is aching while my hands are shaking Look at me I begged you please I’m on my knees amidst the trees
Falling raindrops hang upon your eyelash. Lightning shoots across your mind, your thoughts clash. Thunder shatters your soul, snuffing your spark. But the sun shines with pride when you smile. Then misty clouds disappear from your eyes, Revealing a sky illuminated with the light of stars shining on for miles. Beauty of life, with the sun does rise. You are the world; breathtaking, just you wait.
I called for you, but you did not hear You could not hear, yet you are so near I watch you leave, swallowed by the mist The face I kissed and the life I’ll miss
Above: Drawing by Tara Chappell 7 - Resonance - Spring 2019
Dan’s Poem Becca Houghton Reflecting on it now, it seems like a million years ago But honestly I know that it has only been four Four years have gone by since you took your own life And impacted mine forever I’m pretty sure you didn’t know I existed I was pretty much invisible in high school But I knew you Not because we simply had chorus together Or because I was a majorette while you played football I knew you for your smile The chorus room lit up when you walked in With that radiant smile of yours And my whole day was made I looked forward to that period everyday Because I knew , at least one person would be smiling And that person was you I regret not telling you that I liked your smile I had so many chances, but wasted them all Back then I was extremely shy, and like I said, Invisible I wonder now if it would have made a difference Or not Or if you would have cared at all what some stranger thought Even still, not telling you is one of my biggest regrets Absolute dread filled my heart When I heard the news I really can’t explain why I felt the way I did Because I barely knew you All I can say , is it hit me like a train ,I was so confused and hurt Even though I barely knew you I shut myself up in my room for quite a few weeks Isolated and upset. Left to deal with these feelings All on my own I didn’t want to talk about it with anyone I learned how to hide what I was feeling from everyone And attempted to move on with my normal life Despite my phasuade I have not forgotten And I have not been able to deal with this lingering pain At least, not until now It has taken me four long years to be able to put this tragedy Into wordsAnd now, I am not certain If I will share this,Or keep it to myself My own personal way of grieving My very special way of remembering The guy I barely knew, from chorus sophomore year. I will always remember Dan Kochara 8 - Resonance - Spring 2019
Below Drawing by Tara Chappell
Desperate Plee
Snowfall
Nathan Smith
Nathan Smith
To presidents and leaders I give this poem life In hopes that you would read it And end all of these fights
The skies let down their bounty That falls as sheets to earth It freezes on the mountains But we protect our hearth
Our continents are fading as our families fall apart I ask that you find wisdom or a soft spot in your heart
We warn our weary brothers That winter is come at last They tell so many others But still they must move fast
A spot that helps you open Your eyes that once seemed locked or clears your ears in hopes thatYour mind becomes unblocked
They lock up all the hatches And hide away the keys They stock up on new matches And watch the rivers freeze
I beg you help my brothers As they flee from distant lands And that you save my sisters From the cruelest of our hands The fields and heavy forests Are burning into dust Your guns and heavy turrets Will destroy us as they must But still I hold his hope That you can end this war And send the soldiers home To rejoice what they’ve fought for The battle walls are breaking There’s a stirring in my bones my damaged heart is aching As the mother softly mourns
The fireplace is burning But not a sound is heard My friend he left on Sunday Yet still there is no word Maybe he found shelter And protection from the snow But til the end of winter There’s no way we’ll ever know
Below photograph by Emily Holland
Come forth and help the nations Before we fall into the sea Perhaps with just some patience Your heart could still save me.
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Happiness Lesson
Pass by
Nathan Smith
Lucy Craig
I can never seem to write a happy poem I don’t know why I just can’t do it When I write my hands they grow numb and sometimes I feel I’ll never get through it But then came you and you gave me this
How do you know that you have feelings for someone? What is the basis for that? Is it the way your heart skips a beat when they walk by or you hear their voice Is it the way they make you laugh and smile Or is it something else entirely It can be subtle, can be quick, or it can take time to build up But however it happens, unfortunately it still does It feels like a bus barreling down the street, and you can’t stop it But there comes a moment in your life when you have to shut it down Have to tell yourself that it’s not worth it That there is someone else out there Someone else who will love you But then he calls you beautiful, even if it is in passing What do you do with that? How do you handle that? Can you just let go of feelings that have developed? Allow that bus to either slam into you or simply pass by?
This endless feeling of shameless bliss You fill my heart and make me whole It almost seems like that’s your goal to steal my breath and make me shiver you lassoed cupid and stole his quiver I can’t quite shake it this thing you do you make me want to spend my life with you Those pale blue eyes like a swimming pool that crooked smile of a royal fool yet you make me laugh and you make me cry and to this day I don’t know why Is this called love or is it something new It started out small but it suddenly grew This feeling’s too strong, too real to be fake Yet why does it feel like a giant mistake You don’t love me and I know it’s true so why can’t I help loving you? I suppose this is why. I answered my question. That’s why I can’t write I need a happiness lesson.
Below photograph by Emily Holland
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Beautiful Girl
Broken Mirror
Becca Houghton
Nathan Smith
Beautiful girl, why do you look in the mirror? That thin piece of glass won’t make things clearer
Today I broke a mirror I caught the glass inside my hand it started as a crack and wouldn’t go back this wasn’t the day I had planned Today I broke a mirror I saw my features shatter like glass the reflection it made had begun to fade the pieces were then lost in the grass Today I broke a mirror I felt the blood form a pool in my palm I began to see that this mirror was me and the storm in my head became calm Today....... I broke
Beautiful girl, why do you care what they say? Their words don’t define who you are in any way Beautiful girl, why do you live in fear? You are surrounded by people who love you my dear Beautiful girl, there is more to you then they know So quit holding back , and let the real you show Beautiful girl, you are loud , proud and bold The awful things they say are seriously getting old Beautiful girl, it’s time to stand up for yourself Don’t let this continue, you don’t need their help Beautiful girl,you did it, you’re free! It is only now that I realized , that beautiful girl is me
Left photograph by Emily Holland
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I Am Who I Am
Grow
Nathan Smith
Becca Houghton
I am who I am and I don’t plan on changing I have blood on my hands and my storm is still raging I fought all I could, but my battle is over You took all the luck from my old four leaf clover
I will grow on, despite their constant criticism Blooming like a flower in the spring I am proud of who I am and who I am becoming Let it be known to everyone I don’t care what others think anymore I am through allowing other people’s opinions to control me I am my own person, with my own passions, goals and dreams I am not meant to follow your rules or your standards of who I should be It’s not about you anymore, it’s about me I am unique and a little different than the rest , but that’s okay
Thanks for the help and your though of concern but don’t come to close or you might end up burned I am who I am and I’m cool with that a little too tall and a little too fat But words still somehow hurt me like a knife on every tongue stabbing my ears and burning my eyes like an angry siren song I am who I am as I’ve learned to accept through memories of nights that I barely slept I am who I am and I’m not who I’m not the broken of hearts whom the whole world forgot I’ve learned to find peace in the things that are certain the tragedy’s over so close the red curtain
Left photograph by Emily Holland
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Memory Chelsea Hutnick It’s crazy, how the mind fades. How it travels back in time, A time much unlike today. Back to when families felt safe. Its funny, how the faces fade. Disappearing right in front of you. While a childhood friend greets you in your memory The place you live is no longer your home. The feeling to return to that faraway farmhouse Overwhelms the heart. You can almost see it. Sharing stories comes naturally now, But it’s been so long. Soon, you find yourself Living in your memories.
Above Photograph by Emily Holland
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Freedom in the Skies; Not Down Below Tara Chappell In our world today, Those taken with freedom Are the most trapped. The wolf sat, perched upon the rock as he curiously watched the small bird fluttering about him. His head tilted side to side as the snow colored canary continued to fly high over his head, out of reach. Its wings made pattering noises that seemed to be music to the canine’s ears, yet it also terrified him—he had never heard such a sound, he never knew such absolute freedom that she had, and he couldn’t ever imagine what that absolute freedom would be like. Along with these sounds, there were others: the wind rustling the freshly green-colored leaves as if a storm was beginning to rise; the thunder booming in the near distance as the clouds began to darken into early twilight, the lips of the cotton kissing the sun into silent darkness; the singing of the crickets who had just come out from their hiding spots; the other wolves in the distance, howling their favorite melodies. The constant chattering of the other animals that lingered about him, living out their lives even throughout the early night. These animals, however, were too distracted by their routines—their chores, their children, their work—to focus on the small white canary that happily played above their heads, chasing butterflies and the leaves that flit past. The earth-toned wolf with the universe in his eyes was the only animal in the entire forest to glance up at the playful creature, time and time again, staring at it in complete wonder, but they never really spoke, only observed each other in silent wonder. He didn’t have the freedom to roam like she did—he often wondered what it would be like to do so—to go to places that he knew that he’d never experience, to go anywhere he liked, not to worry about anything around him. Wolf would think many things as his blue eyes studied her: “what an odd little thing”, “look at how she flutters around so effortlessly, every day and every night without pause”, and “how am I to be the only one curious of her?” Every day since he had first seen her, these questions would ghost throughout his head whilst he studied his friend from below, laying amongst the soft spring grass, ignoring the other animals that surrounded him.
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Of course, this small, white canary took every notice of him observing each movement that he could—in fact, day in and day out she noticed that it would only be him that viewed her so carefully. If she wasn’t as adventurous as she was, maybe she might have feared him and turned away at the smallest sight of him. Only she never once retreated from him, she only continued to fly for him, but never flew too close for fear of being snatched up by the teeth of the big wolf. Though the canine would never hurt his feathered friend, he understood her distance from him and only viewed her in the sky from his spot on the matted ground. The canary was able to fly high and low, she could go absolutely anywhere she desired with little to no restraints, only worried about such things as energy, food, and water. She understood his fascination with her because he was restrained by the landscape—he dwelled on this all of his life, only able to go as far as his body and the earth would let him. He couldn’t roam like she could; he couldn’t see the world like she could; and he couldn’t explore the way that she could until he became the bundle of energy that she was. When she had left to explore the world, he still focused his attention on her from afar and continued to as she carried on to her next destination, never staying in the same spot for too long and always finding somewhere warmer to be. He spent so much of his time wishing that he could fly like her that he never really lived his life. The wolf often laid in the grass on a patch of grass, staring up at the sky while wondering what it would be like to fly across the skies at his own leisure—he was happy just thinking and considering it. He laid there so often that the ground beneath him began to dry and the grass began to become a rotted out yellow, the once green grass now becoming a sign of imprisonment. The earth toned wolf sat and dreamed so much that he passed still dreaming those dreams—when he passed, he was finally able to fulfill those dreams of flying over the landscape at high speeds. It was only when he began to fly and watch those still living their lives and watching their children grow up, did he realize that he wasted his valuable and meaningful life while he was on Earth while envisioning what it would be like to live freely in the sky, when he could have found his purpose on the ground.
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