Windfall (Fall Issue) 2013 by Windfall: Literary Magazine

WINDFALL FALL 2013

CONTENTS FEATURES nal o s r e p s ne’ o y r e v E sa “ a h e c n e experi nt story and a y differe nt outcome. M t differe a lot differen story is ” … s r e h t than o

28. To Be or Not to Be...an English Major

iii Rememb

Seamus

ering Heaney

The Hunger Games: Catching Fire Reviewed 4

REGULARS s e i r o t S t r Sho Poetry -Freshman Spotlight: Katelyn Parkinson

Photograph

Winner of Photography contest 2013 7

19 18 30

Inside the Book

-Divergent & Catc

hing Fire

NOTE FROM THE EDITOR Thank you for picking up our fall issue of Windfall. 2013 has been a great year for Windfall after receiving great praise over our new style and format. This semester we have added a couple of new additions to our format. Our magazine this year features new categories that include different personal stories and reviews of books / movies. We were lucky enough to get a lot of strong support from local business that provided advertisement spaces. I am very lucky to be working with a brilliant and talented team this year. Their ideas and skills have reached Windfallâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s expectations to the max. I would first like to thank my co-editor Nikki Anderson for all her support and help, even though she says I do everything. I would next like to thank my amazing team, without these three fresh minds our publication would not be existent. Thanks to our amazing advisor Jeff Halprin for directing us in the right direction through everything. Windfall has become a great learning environment for everyone and we cannot wait to see where next semester take us. Again thank you for taking the time to pick up this edition and strongly suggest that if you like to write poetry, short stories, or take pictures to come join our team! All submissions can be submitted to myself or to Professor Halprin. Thank you and enjoy! Ryan Finnegan

iii

Seamus Heaney passed away AUGUST 30th, 2013. The members of WINDFALL would like to dedicate this fall issue in his behalf. We were truly blessed to have his letter to WINDFALL from 1991 included below. Enjoy!

FROM THE 1991 SPRING EDITION OF WINDFAL vi

THE HUNGER GAMES: CATCHING FIRE REVIEWED MATTHEW POCHAL

MOVIES !

The Hunger Games: Catching Fire (2013) Director: Francis Lawrence Cast: Jennifer Lawrence, Josh Hutcherson. Liam Hemsworth, and

The Hunger Games: Catching Fire, Director Francis Lawrence (I Am Legend and Water for Elephants) was able to bring Suzanne Collins’s second install-‐ ment of the Hunger Games, Catching Fire, to life brilliantly on the big screen. Lawrence was able to deliver such justice to Collin’s novel but also putting in his own style and interpretation. Although director of the Hunger Games, Gary Ross, Hilmed an excellent movie, Lawrence just created a better sequel. In Catching Fire, it starts out in the outskirts of District 12, in the forest where once again we see Katniss and Gale hunting in the woods. Life in the 12 is not the same for Katniss anymore. After winning her Games, supposedly star-‐ crossed lovers, Katniss and Peeta must still Hight for their lives on the Victory Tour,

trying to convince the Districts that the berries were out of love not rebellion. However, the next Hunger Games is the 75 annual Quarter Quell. Not only must Katniss be sent back into the Games, she has to face other previous victors. Actor and Academy Award winner Jennifer Lawrence, once again brings incredible and amazing talent towards her character Katniss Everdeen. Lawrence as usual, never disappoints with her roles and brings such emotion to the audience. Not only do we see returning cast members such as Josh Hutcherson, Liam Hemsworth, and Woody Harrelson, but new members as well. New cast member, Sam ClaHlin, brings Dis-‐ trict 4 tribute’s Finnick Odair to the screen with such accuracy and trueness to the real conceited Finnick in Collin’s novel.

ClaHlin, like other new member Jenna Malone, actor who portrays Johanna Mason, a vic-‐ tor from District 7, brings new talent and fresh blood to the cast members and deliver their parts so well. Overall, Catching Fire was an amazing portrayal of the book, showing love, hate, and war all in one big action packed movie that will leave you wanting more. Catching Fire is a movie that will leave you on the edge of your seat, hungry for more, and anxious for the next installment of the trilogy, Mockingjay. By Matthew Pochal

WINNER OF FALL 2013 PHOTOGRAPHY CONTEST SAMANTHA DIREDA CLASS OF 2017

"Scratch Me Silly"

MON - SAT: 11:30 AM - 12:00 AM SUN: 12:00 PM - 12:00 AM Appetizers Egg Rolls $1.90/ $3.75 Spring Rolls $2.80 Beef Rolls $3.00 Fried Shrimp $4.50/6.95 Peking Ravioli $3.75/5.95 Chicken Wings $4.50/6.95 Chicken Fingers $4.50/6.95 Crab Rangoons $5.00/7.50 Beef Teriyaki $4.50/6.95 Chicken Teriyaki $4.50/6.95 Boneless Ribs $4.50/6.95 Kamikaze Chicken *ÿ $6.25/8.25 Kamikaze Wings *ÿ $6.25/8.95 French Fries $1.80/3.25 Scallion Pancakes $5.95 PuPu Platter for 2 $16.75 Boneless Ribs, Beef Teriyaki (4), Egg Rolls (2), Chicken Wings (4), Fried Shrimp (2), Chicken Fingers (6), Crab Rangoons (6) Super Appetizer Combination Platters $8.25 (Served with Pork Fried Rice) A. Fried Shrimp (2), Chicken Fingers (8), Boneless Ribs B. Spring Roll (1), Fried Shrimp (2), Chicken Wings (2), Beef Teriyaki (2) C. Chicken Fingers (8), Beef Teriyaki (2), Boneless Ribs D. Crab Rangoons (4), Chicken Wings (2), Beef Teriyaki (2) E. Egg Roll (1), Chicken Fingers (8), Beef Teriyaki (2) F. Crab Rangoons (6), Chicken Fingers (4), Boneless Ribs G. Egg Roll (1), Beef Teriyaki (2), Chicken Fingers (4), Boneless Ribs H. Crab Rangoons (6), Beef Teriyaki (2), Boneless Ribs

Super Chinese Combination Platters $9.25 (Served with Pork Fried Rice) S1: Strange Flavored Chicken*ÿ, Chicken Wings (2), Crab Rangoons (4) * S2: General Gau's Chicken*ÿ, Egg Roll (1), Chicken Fingers (5) S3: Chicken w/ Vegetables, Egg Roll (1), Beef Teriyaki (2) S4: Moo Goo Gai Pan, Crab Rangoons, Boneless Ribs S5: Yu Hsiang Pork, Boneless Ribs, Chicken Fingers (5) S6: Chow Mein/Chop Suey (Any Kind), Chicken Wings (2), Beef Teriyaki (2) S7: Beef w/ Broccoli, Crab Rangoons (4), Boneless Ribs S8: Green Pepper Steak*ÿ, Boneless Ribs, Chicken Fingers (5) S9: Kung Pao Beef*ÿ, Chicken Fingers (5), Egg Roll (1) S10: Shrimp w/ Lobster Sauce, Chicken Wings (2), Crab Rangoons (4) S11: Yu Hsiang Shrimp*ÿ, Chicken Fingers (5), Boneless Ribs S12: Stir Fried Vegetables, Crab Rangoons (4), Chicken Fingers (5) S13: Beef with Mushrooms, Boneless Ribs, Chicken Wings (2) S14: Ginger Chicken or Beef w/ String Beans,

ACCEPTS:

SHORT STORIES

12 MATTHEW POCHAL

REGINA GRACE She’s more than beautiful. Try to stop her in the street; you’re not getting her name. Regina Grace is a woman who knows what she wants, and she’ll get it. Gina is a showstopper. You never wait for a confrontation with her. Men love her; women hate her. And Gina does not give a damn. I meet her one night in a sleazy little pub, and as the night wears down we sit drowning shots of Jaeger with Red Bull. She tells me her story. Our brains intertwine; now this is my story to tell. The men surrounding us grow more lecherous with each drink. Make no mistakes; I myself am one of those lecherous dogs. I just like to think I hide it better than they do. I know these dogs are glaring at me, wishing to be me because it is I she has chosen to sit with. I am lost in the shadow of the magnificent Regina Grace, aided by alcohol and adoring every licorice-burping minute. She’s just that girl. Not exactly red hair, more the idea of it. Her head is thrown back as she laughs, with a slender leg stretching provocatively. Her left high heel dangles from her pointed toe as she stretches, then snaps the shoe back into place. Every eye in the place follows that move. Faint scars run along her right cheek, and it only heightens her beauty. Every man in that dump is still eyeing that leg and thinking nothing good. I had originally tried to hit on her; it did not work. I’m a man who will take what he can get. Now Regina is showing me a picture. A sullen looking guy is next to her, messing up what could have been a masterpiece. His face is weathered, and a large nose is jutting from that leathery mess of a face like a hawk’s beak. Long blonde hair tied off with black rawhide. He’s a simple man with a slight handicap; he’s an amputee…the left leg. I can’t see this in the photograph, no one could, but she tells me as I’m holding the two of them on paper in my palm. I try not to let Gina see the look on my face but here it is. I can’t help it. Up go my eyebrows and my lips twist involuntarily. She’s disgusted by my reaction. The two of them met in a crazy way. As she tells me the story, all I am left to do is fall in love with her. He’s dead now. Gina says this as she scoops peanuts from the bowl between us, and her brown eyes fill with tears. I would have killed all those dogs in the bar at that moment to get her man back, amputee that he was. How’s a guy like that get a girl like her…I’ll tell you. So she’s walking along the beach one night, and his dog attacks her. Just mauls the shit out of her face. He doesn’t bring her to the hospital; he loves his dog and doesn’t want it put down. He feels terrible but he doesn’t want to lose his companion. Turns out, the guy is a nurse (A fucking man-nurse, can you believe it?). Gina had fainted from the whole thing and wakes up in this dude’s arms, her face sewn together and bandaged, him with that nose looking over her. They wind up talking for hours. I interrupt her here. “What do you mean; you wind up talking for hours?” “Just what I said.” She raises an eyebrow and crushes a cigarette into the ashtray, smoke unfurling from her red lips. I buy her another shot. “Continue.” I slide the shot towards her. “I want to hear the rest, Gina. I don’t get how you can fall in love with someone who lets his dog attack you and then doesn’t get you medical attention.” “That’s because you...“ She slams back the shot. ”…are an insensitive prick.” She continues on then. Finally he helps her home and her whole family is aghast at what has happened. I guess they have been worried sick wondering where the hell she was, but Gina just kind of brushes it off. By this time, she feels something for the dude, something she thinks is pity. Her family presses her to sue. She refuses.

The next day, Gina walks the beach again, and there he is. James, his name is. Gina and James. And just like that, they fall in love. I look at her skeptically when she tells me ‘just like that, we fell in love’, but she ignores me in a way that only the truly loved can. I try to pry a bit more. “How do you know it was love? In just one day?” “I just know.” Gina stops talking for a minute; her voice is soft and sad. So I figure she must be telling the truth, but I still don’t get it. This guy – he’s no looker. I guess to some people looks truly don’t matter. I can’t say that for myself though, nope. I’m a legs and eyes man, and ugly women just don’t cut it for me. I don’t like me any fat chicks, either. And I sure as hell don’t like chicks whose dog has just fucking sliced my face open. Now it’s nearing the end of the night, and Regina is crying as she tells me of his death. He killed himself, she says. Just swam out into the ocean and never came back. Never left a note or anything, so I suggest an accident. She turns to me then, and there it is – that gleam of fury in her eyes that makes her look like a goddess incarnate. I feel like an idiot for suggesting it. Gina continues on with her story, tells me how it was the best summer of her life. When she met James she was transformed into something else, a better person. He made her feel like she could do anything, that just because she was so beautiful it didn’t mean she wasn’t smart. He loved her for her, not for her beauty. Cliché, huh? Gina swears that it’s Truth. She tells me how before, everyone in her life just based everything on the way she looked. James didn’t. And it was as simple as that. He was depressed, James was. He saw too much ugly, too much gray in a world of black and white. Gina tried to cheer him up enough to want to stay, but it wasn’t enough. ‘I’m a fucking amputee’, he told her. ‘All I’ll do is bring you down’. They spent all summer talking, talking, and talking, while her family ignored her and James in disgust. They hated him, hated that his dog had ruined her face. But James and Gina didn’t see the mauling as ruining her face. In fact, Gina told me, she liked it. The scars took the attention from her beauty. Crazy red-haired vixen. Siren of all men who were previously nothing. If she only knew how those scars leaped out, the silver against her pale face serving as nothing less than a magnet for any man. At this point in the story, the tears completely overtake her. I help her up and over to the ladies. As I settle back onto the barstool, Tom comes over (Tom who owns the place) and he just kind of stares at me. “What!?” “You know what the hell you’re doing, Kevin? She’s been in here a few times, buddy. She’s bad news,

that girl.” Tom starts cleaning the bar, all nonchalant, but I know what this dog is up to. “I’m fucking fine, Tom. Just trying to help the girl get over whatever she needs to.” Tom snorts out his laughter and thankfully, moves on. I yell for another shot, two shots, and as Regina slides back onto the bar stool Tom brings ‘em down. “You okay?” I want to lean in, caress her leg a bit. I already tried that move though, and Gina wasn’t having it. “I’m fine. You ready?” We clink our shot glasses together and knock back more of that harsh, licorice sweetness. So by now in Gina’s story, it’s closing in on the end of the summer. She packs her things. Not to return home, but to move in with him – and he refuses, James broke up with her. She’s a heartbroken mess, but her family couldn’t have been happier. They bring up the issue of suing him again, demanding that she act like she’s got some sense. She lost it then, went ballistic on her father, and eventually her mother gets everyone calmed down enough to leave. So off they go, back to her former life. But now, it’s a life tainted with memories of a hawk-nosed amputee. The news two weeks later, they all have a headliner about a missing man in Westerly, Rhode Island, in a place called Misquamicut Beach. Gina tells me her heart froze when she heard it, and she knew then that it was James and he wasn’t missing. She knew that he had offed himself. Those were her exact words to me -- he offed himself. She grinds out another cigarette, exhales heavily, and stands. She’s looking down at me like I’m something she’s never seen before. She’s unsteady on her feet, so I jump up and grab her arm. “You okay?” I feel electrified, stroking this feline goddess’s arm. “I’m fine. Just need to go. I can’t…talk…about James anymore. It hurts. It’s been 10 years, and I’m still not over it.” My head spins when she admits it’s been 10 years. How is that possible, that this creature of beauty is still in mourning over an old, dead, washed-up amputee? I walk her out to the street, press a twenty into her hand, and hail a taxi. Just like that, she’s gone. When I head back in the bar, the sweet scent of alcohol hits my nostrils like an assassin. I take one look at Tom and all those other dogs and change my mind. Back on the street, it takes too long to flag another taxi. By the time I finally get a cab, I’ll never catch her. So I just pull up my collar and hunker down in my seat, letting my breath fog up the glass. Nikki Anderson ‘14

JAMEIL ALI

HELL’S OTHER PEOPLE I was in Hell.

I wasn’t angry about it. I knew why I was there. I’d done some pretty nasty stuff. Married men. Then, when they’d dump me (always) -- money to keep my mouth shut. Even a car once. And once I didn’t keep it shut. He’d been the one I really wanted. If I couldn’t have him. Big man. Important. Big house, kids. Three car garage. Must have taken forever to fill up with exhaust. So ok. But the pain. I can’t describe. You know how you don’t feel the skin hurt when you’re punched in the stomach? Well, the fire’s hot here all right, but who cares. The soul burns. I don’t know how long I’d been here. I’d look up every so often and see people crossing way above on one of those narrow stone arches. Indiana Jones stuff. I didn’t know any of them; never the same person twice. Except for one guy who must have been the guide. Him I saw all the time. Then once I did recognize somebody. Even that far off. He ran the donut shop down the street from me. Nice guy. I’d come in a lot. Strung out. Depressed to shit. He’d always talk to me. I’d say, “Why can’t I ever get a guy like you?” And he’d wave his occupied ring finger at me and laugh. And if I fished in my pockets a minute, he’d say, “Get me next time, Linda.” Sometimes that was all I’d eat that day. And there he was, passing overhead on this bridge out of Monument National Park. Same guy leading him. But I couldn’t remember his name. And he was almost gone . . . “Hey, Dono-Rama!” I yelled out as loud as I could. “Down here! Dono-man!!!” I saw him stop. He looked down and called. “Linda? Linda, it’s me. Ray.”

I called back, “Ray, thank God! Get me outa here! Help me!” I saw him turn to the guide. Did Ray nod? Then next thing I know . . . I’m standing up there on the stone arch. There’s a man next to me who I guess is the guide. But no Ray.

“So I was right all along,” I said. “We’re all damned.” He put his finger, very gently, to my lips.

And no flames, inside or out.

“I told you how it works here. Compassion. Someone feels just too badly for someone else to leave them. They take their place. Then that person ends up doing the same. There are always new people crossing, new chances. Until, finally, everyone is down here . . .”

“What?!” I started. I looked around.

“But doesn’t that defeat the whole purpose?” I was lost.

“He’s down there,” the guide said. I looked down and I could see him. His face.

“The decision was made a long time ago. Nobody goes till everyone goes.”

“He asked me if there was any way, and I told him: Yes. If someone agrees to trade places. ‘Better love hath no man,’ and all that. So here you are. Nice guy, Ray. Your boyfriend?”

I heard a deep voice from the crowd. “While one soul is imprisoned . . .”

He walked me to the end of the bridge and pointed out an opening in the wall. “Just keep walking now,” he said. “It only gets better.” Then he was gone. He was right. I can’t describe. Breezes. Sights. You know how you’re heart feels when love touches your skin? I didn’t see anybody else. Too early, I guessed. There was a mountain, and I started for it. Until I stopped. Shrugged. Shook my head. Spoke. Next second, I’m back. Down there. But at least Ray was out, back where he deserved.

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, that’s God,” the guide said. “He thinks he’s Eugene Debs.” “God’s down here, too?! Whose place did he take?” “Mine,” said the guide with a smile, and his eyes smoldered a little. I’d thought he looked a bit like Pacino. But they all do to me . . . “Wait a minute,” I took him by the shoulders. “This is the place where God is, right? And now everybody’s here. Together. And everybody really cares? But wouldn’t that make this . . .?” You know how when you turn on the defogger, and it all just melts away from the bottom up? You know that the rainbow has a big arched shadow?

Until I looked around and saw him next to me. -Professor Wayne-Daniel Berard I was rip-shit. “Hey Choir Boy !!!” I yelled. “Hey Wing Tips!!! What the fuck?!” Then I saw that he was there, too. The guide. “Finally,” he said. He was smiling. And everybody was smiling. “You’re the last one.” I cocked my head at him. “That’s why you didn’t see anyone up there,” he said. “They’re all down here . . .” “You mean, everybody’s in hell?” I shouted. He nodded. “Everybody? Like saints? Like . . . Mary?” “That’s her over there,” he motioned with his chin. “ My mother’ll freak,” I laughed. Again he motioned. “She already knows.” I stopped.

Everyone’s personal experience has a different story and a different out-‐ come. My story is a lot dif-

ferent than others….

I was raised a lot differently and it has made me a bet-‐ ter person because I know the importance of being alive. People may know me as the girl who writes poems and the girl who studies all night. They really do not know me though, that is why I am writing this. People should know about the experience that changed my life forever, for this is the story of how I became who I am today. I came into this world differently than most of my other classmates. I was not made out of sunshine, happiness, and rainbows. I came from a 16-‐year-‐old girl in high school. She did not have a boyfriend, and she slept with a lot of guys. The day she found out she was pregnant, she hated herself, and she tried to ignore the little person inside her stomach. She didn’t even know whom her baby belonged to, and she just didn’t care. She did not want anyone to know she was pregnant, not even her own family. As a result of her neglect, I was born prematurely. I was in an incubator for a very long time. She did not know how to take care of me, so I ended up needing a lot of medical attention as well as a lot of people to look after me. I was fed junk food and soda for a while. Nobody thought that I would be alive for a long. People had doubts that I would live past the First year. My biological mother was smart enough to ask her relatives for help. That is where my aunt and uncle come in. I was always being taken care of by them. I was at their house more than I was at my own house. One day, my mother decided that she could not take care of me. At 3 years old, I moved into my aunt and uncle’s home. This is the place that I knew was a safe haven, a place where I knew I would be able to make it past 5 years old. I was a scared little girl. I did not understand what was hap-‐ pening most of the time. When I was 8 years old and I had lived with my aunt and uncle for about 5 years, they told me that they wanted to adopt me. I said yeah sure no problem and was very excited. It was a little strange from calling them aunt and uncle to mom and dad. The day of the adoption, the judge let me play with the things on his desk and I was having a great time. I am still not sure what really happened. Apparently they wanted to adopt me a while ago, but my biologi-‐ cal mother was not sure that she wanted to lose cus-‐ tody of me. Finally, I had a family that loved me and knew how to take care of me, a family that would take me on trips and spoil me. This was the event that changed my life. My parents, the judge and I all sat in an ofFice and signed the papers, papers that changed my last name and who I was forever. Technically, my aunt and uncle are now my mom and dad all because of a few papers. That is not really the whole truth; they

became my parents because of who they are. They are loving, caring, and very kind. They have always been there for me and always will be. They encour-‐ age me in school and in life. They are my guardian angels that show me what is right and wrong. They are the ones closest to my heart, the ones who give a warm glow that allows me to see things differently, a new perspective, a different way of noticing people. I always try to Find the good in others, just like my par-‐ ents. I know that even the worst people do have a heart. I will always hear their voices of wisdom and feel the strength that they gave me. My life has changed because of them. When I was First adopted, I did not always concen-‐ trate on school, it was a little hard to pay attention. I always wondered about my real parents and I wanted to know who my father was. I still keep in touch with my mother, but it is almost like I can’t relate to her and I get annoyed with her easily. Adoption is the greatest gift of love that I think anyone can experi-‐ ence. If I have the chance to adopt a child, I deFinitely

it means that the child will have a chance at liv-‐ ing, a chance to be their own person and to have someone who can take care of them all of the time. Adoption saved my life. will because

To me adoption has come to many different things. I live a different life. It means unconditional love that has nothing to do with blood relations. It means that I am a part of a family. It means leaving my heart open and accepting the things that may damage it, but knowing things will work out. It means waking up every morning with a feeling of ap-‐ preciation. Adoption means hope. It means that I am a gift, not a right. It means that being with my par-‐ ents is more precious more than anything. It means a second chance. It means that I had parents who taught me how to be good. I was blessed with par-‐ ents who allowed contact with my other biological family members. I believe that contact was some-‐ thing that needed to happen. My biological brother was blessed by being adopted by another family. Given my mother’s history and knowing what she is still like today, I think adoption was a good decision, instead of living with a mother who is an alcoholic, a drug addict, and someone who has to move a lot and who hates her own mother. Being adopted has made me realize many different things. Most importantly, never take something for granted. It is a gift to be alive. You must do what you can to make it a better place for all. I believe the reason I am alive is to make a difference in the world. I will do that through my writings and my poetry. I realized this through trial and error. I learned all of this because I was adopted and it changed my life. Adoption was my second chance and I will always be grateful. -‐-‐Anonymous

RYAN FINNEGAN

A FRESHMAN WITH A POWERFUL VOICE

Support Me

Bleeding Heart

KATELYN PARKINSON ENGLISH EDUCATION ’17 My name is Katelyn Parkinson, and I am a freshman here at Nichols College. I am studying English and Education. I went to a trade school for high school, there I studied Painting and Design. In high school I took part in the Douglas Band, participating in their color guard. I did color guard since I was in fifth grade and I still love it to this day. A lot of my inspiration came from doing color guard. Working hard and never giving up was something I always strived for. I am studying English because of the way it has evolved over the years, this evolution is its history, just like any person has their own unique history and story. I believe it is important to know the story behind everything and everyone before you judge it. I live in Douglas, MA and I went to high school at Blackstone Valley Regional Vocational Technical High School. It was there that I discovered that teaching was my passion because I like helping people. Being a girl scout since third grade has helped influence my want to help people.

Broken pieces lay shattered on the Floor, Just waiting for the next person to pick them up, And mend my broken bleeding heart. My heart gets more ruined every time I see you, The pieces break smaller and smaller, It’s always harder to Fix next time then the last. One day it will be beyond repair, And it will just lay there bleeding for you, I will never be able to love the same after you. You will forever be in my battered heart.

The phone rings, My heart races until I hear the voice, Only time I feel safe is when you’re near. Across seas you wait, fighting, risking. The calls once a month, short and sweet, The months pass, clocks tick, nerves fray. Door opens, your voice echoes through the halls, Your arms tighten around me Safe and whole at last. Stars Bodies Flat against the grass, Blades of grass poking through our Fingers, Stars above, illuminating the darkness, Our lives intertwined, and so are our bodies. Fingers interlocking with yours, Constellations connect the stars, Our hearts connect us. Darkness closes in, our eyes close, The dreams begin.

POETRY

20 MATTHEW POCHAL

IMAGINE A FUTURE... A COLLABORATIVE POEM WRITTEN BY THE NICHOLS COLLEGE POETRY CLUB

RYAN FINNEGAN

Imagine having no boundaries

Imagine

instead of exhausting the soles of our feet we elevate through the heavens

white boy kicked out the house and left in the streets no family, no friends, and uses cardboard for sheets Imagine black women, on the face of all magazine covers for in reality her beauty is always above all others

imagine instead of coming out the womb crying babies come out cracking lips open with the sound of joy yes! I made it the hard part is over if I should have a daughter I will do everything I can to give her all the answers but how am I supposed to explain why she can still feel his touch lingering on her skin rattling her foundation tearing apart her DNA echoing the words “you know you want it”

Imagine fathers who sip spirits stop beating their daughters those who bathed in bacteria cherishing the minerals of their waters I wonder what would happen if bullying didn’t exist would women I love still wanna cut their wrists? I wonder what goes on in the mind of a murderer I want to tell the judge he didn’t mean to hurt her

Imagine these shootings one day will end cause these bullets aren’t the only messages these guns send I wonder will the poor ever get out of poverty so they don’t have to spend their life savings trying to win the lottery

Imagine how free we can get if we learn to throw kisses instead of grenades invent drones that drop dinner with a cup of lemonade

Imagine no tomorrows or yesterdays just now and this moment with no promise of another chance would we perfect every choice? uplift every voice cause if we bypass the door it’s just a wall stopped between two other walls between the core outer core dirt, foundation 1st floor, 2nd floor ceiling, attic, roof, air, clouds, sky, gravity

the universe stopped One seed feeds an entire community over your head is the sun and under soles is the moon we are all in between gradually making our tomb to grow each grain

BREAKING NEWS: Last hungry man fed.

each second is for you to show

Imagine how free we can get

this is the year I stop choking my full potential stop holding back in fear of becoming the man who bleeds half the blood that flows through my veins because I love

if we carefully place each seed in the ground Listening closely to hear their sound growing

and part of him pumps through my heart and reflects in the actions following every breath I take

imagine a future where old ladies tap the tree of life for juices of wisdom to feed the kingdom led not by kings but by peace and children

We are going into the future we are glowing our streams are flowing our seeds are poking out of the dirt and showing these cells arenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t frozen when upfront we are outspoken love from mother earth rehearsed and chosen Collaborated by: Nichols College Poetry Club

imagine a future whereâ&#x20AC;Ś BREAKING NEWS: First Women US President ends War in the Middle East THIS JUST IN: Rap music inspires police to make changes EXTRA EXTRA: American defense budget turned toward education BREAKING NEWS: Over counters cancer cures available for free in all corner stores THIS JUST IN: Religion is dead, relationships are our new savior EXTRA EXTRA: Children discover cure for adulthood BREAKING NEWS: African banks are now backed by national resources THIS JUST IN: The world becomes Pangea again EXTRA EXTRA:

BEAUTIFUL ANGEL Beautiful Angels who can Finally spread their wings. Hearing your voice when the birds sing every morning. Wishing I could’ve known you, just so I could’ve help show you what you could’ve grown to. But I understand how it feels to be hated over the phone and in your home to. Karen and Katie if only you knew you weren’t alone to. Beautiful angels who only had grey skies. Laying in your bed crying asking god why He refused your request to be guided Beautiful angels who decided their lives would be better if they died.

IAN SOTOLOFF ’16

I wrote this poem because this past October the city of Newton, Mass had two High school girls take their lives in back to back weeks. Not only was one of the girls from my old high school, but also a couple of my friends knew the two girls who had passed. So when I heard this news I decided I would write this poem not only as a way to remember these two girls who had passed. But as a way for me to reach out to any high school girl or any girl at all who has dealt with depression or an eating disorder or any mental illness at all. I wrote this poem in hopes of making a change in our society and trying to end these teen suicides in our country, one life at a time. I really loved writing this poem because it is something I don’t usually write about, but I wanted this poem to be heard as much as possible so people can start making a difference.

Wish I could’ve been the star of your presence Why does this depression show so much aggression Towards our adolescence, who won’t be around The Christmas tree when its time to open presents.

Why does bulimia and suicide have to exist? No beautiful angel like you should wanna cut their wrist. I just wish I could’ve taken you somewhere on your bucket list. Not see your self-‐esteem get hit with these negative Fists.   Beautiful angels looking down on me just know I’m looking up at you to tell you you’ll be missed. Promise I’ll stand up for mental sickness Get the attention to the people who refused to be a witness. Beautiful angels taken by this disease Spreading poison to the roots of our trees. So these seeds are born into this bitter breeze. Beautiful souls of our angels taken before they receive their degrees. So please can we keep the peace, And lift all these people off their knees. Share the last piece of hope With the people star gazing in need of a telescope Please give a moment of peace to these teens Whose lives were taken before they could pursue their dreams. Depression destroying families so neighborhoods Fill up with screams. So our beautiful angels feel like 15 and 18 is the time to spread their wings. As hard as it seems it’s taken two weeks to take two beautiful teens. Beautiful angels why couldn’t I save you Wish I could’ve given you everything your life never gave you. Why couldn’t I be the guy you could’ve came to? Who knows maybe I would’ve changed you. Hated the way this depression kept you chained, too. Wish I could’ve sat you down and let you know I feel the same too. Let you know that your smile makes the sun shine when it rains too. I promise by the end of this poem everyone Will know what it feels like to take a walk in your shoes. Even though this isn’t the direction we wished you’d choose. Just know you’re beautiful angels who speak to our youth.

Know that your spirit will carry on throughout the country like a Taylor Swift song. They say heros fade, but I can tell you were a leg-‐ end Even though you couldn’t have the chance to live long. Just know that what you had going on wasn’t wrong Even though you never saw the light. Just know that I’m not going to sleep until I make it right. Beautiful Angels know I’m talking to them In the day and the night. Beautiful angels fulFilling my life As we sing everything’s Gonna be alright. Such a tragedy you can’t live life twice Beautiful angels prohibited from becoming wives Wishin the lives we live weren’t such a crisis Does anyone out there know why it’s like this?

WATCHING WATCHING As my eyes settle on your form, I let tears flow freely.

I try so hard to do so, I bandage your wounds and lovingly caress

My heart aches,

your body.

Burns,

My tears,

With pain and sadness.

They drip from my cheeks and

I watch the blood fall from your wrists.

Dampen your skin.

I watch the pool of red on the floor grow big-

"I love you,"

ger. I watch your head turn slowly, My heart stops. Foggy, near lifeless eyes see me. Your lips move, Voice just loud enough to hear, "I never wanted this,

I repeat it with all my might, All my heart, All my soul. "I love you, Please, Don't leave me..." -- Hayley Eldridge

I didn't mean to cut so deep. Please. Save me."

TRUE SELF Some people think I am just a conservative nut,

I spend less time at home than I do in Kupp 304.

Some people think I am just a pain in the butt.

Still remains the problem that most people don’t know me,

Some people think of me as that ginger guy,

They spend their time instead figuring out how to change

However very few people stop to say hi.

me,

Some people think I am all about money,

Why they don’t just take the time to talk to me,

Some people think I am all about being funny.

This is a question that is completely beyond me.

Some people think of me as just a nice guy,

I am commonly asked why I don’t drink booze,

However very few people stop to say hi.

Well half of my family is drunks and it’s something I choose.

The amount of people that know the true me, Equals the number of boats that sailed across the sea, To discover this world, to prove it wasn’t flat, Ya’ll remember your history, did you get that? However, nobody here knows what I have gone through, Not my best friends here, not my friends at home too. Or should I say friend at home, singular, not plural, From K-12 I had as many friends as sides of a circle. That’s ok though, I have moved on since then, I made a lot of friends, starting first in the Bison’s Den. Now I feel welcomed on campus, not shunned like before,

I don’t want to be part of the life; it’s in my blood, But still people insist and try to pressure me into having a bud. If people start to stress they start smoking Mary J, There’s nothing wrong with that, it’s not my business to judge today, Or any day, for that matter, it’s just not for me, I’ve seen what it could do in a blunt and a brownie. I don’t drink coffee either, because it’s addicting as hell, People need it in the morning to answer the bell. I don’t want to be dependent on anything, especially a drink,

However, I will admit I require sunscreen so I don’t turn pink. And as far as me being a extreme right-wing nut, All just because I’m in favor of tax cuts.

Or how they talk, how they act, or how much they drink. I’m a relationship man, that’s right man; I’m not a boy, Because what you really want is a boy to be your sex toy.

We elect people into power to make our choices for us,

I’m the guy that’s different, always has been, always will be,

I give people choices, I don’t drive the bus.

And even though I could be the one guy that holds the

The next thing is something that I hate the most,

answer key.

People judging me by my looks, my hair, or the fact I’m a ghost.

People judge me just because I’m not like them,

If my skin is too white for you, but you say I’m perfect

Half the people I know wouldn’t expect me to write this gem.

inside,

All based upon my appearance, beliefs, or actions.

At first I believed you but now I know that you lied.

Just like in a car, our connection is missing its traction.

If I was to be your man, if I make you laugh and smile,

Now you have two choices, the first like before,

Then why does the color of my skin hold you back that extra mile.

Either keep driving away, or pull over, I’ll open my door.

From friendship to companionship to relationship, But all you really want is excuses to give. If you are unhappy, that is your fault not mine, You had me as an option, but I’m not bitter, it’s fine. You judged me on something that I cannot control, Realistically, if that holds you back, we shouldn’t break our mold. I’ll still remain your friend; I don’t judge people for what they think,

But don’t judge me without taking that chance, To talk to me first or ask me to dance. I’m not saying I’m good or bad or right or wrong, What I am saying is I’m the man that will last the whole song. -Mark Pover PHOTO CREDIT TO: CHRISTINA BARROWS

TO BE OR NOT TO BE...AN ENGLISH MAJOR/MINOR AT NICHOLS COLLEGE The answer is yes. Major in English. Minor in English. Do something that has to do with broadening your horizons in the world of reading, writing, imagination, and contemplation. You can utilize these skills beyond the classroom, despite what you may have been told. Writing and communication skills go a long way in almost every field I can think of, except maybe if you were to be a mime (although the drama classes may come in handy here). The “people skills” you learn with an English degree will take you anywhere. You learn persuasion, negotiation, mentoring, supervising, instruction… these are desirable skills when hiring a new employee. All too often we English majors hear this question, after admitting our degree goal: “Oh, you want to be a teacher?” We answer, and if the answer is no, the next that comes? [Insert odd and uncomfortable look here] “So…what are you going to do, then?” Well, person asking who generally has no idea what an English degree entails, I am going to do lots of things. I can enter the business field if I so desire, the service or hospitality world, or the world of retail. I can go to grad school. I can go to law school. I could even start my own business, or…yes…teach. The answer is that I have foundation skills that far too many others are lacking these days. The thing is, when people view Nichols College the Liberal Arts division is barely seen, never mind the English department. And that is an outright shame, because the English department

here is unbelievably incredible. The professors generally come from high-ranking universities and colleges, and are genuine human beings who care about their students. The small classrooms and individual attention open opportunities one might not get in a larger pool of candidates. You don’t have to major in English (although you should). You can minor. You should absolutely and positively make the choice to minor in English. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain by doing so, as pointed out in the first paragraph by the list of “people skills” obtained. If you are an International Business major with an English minor, this showcases your ability to communicate, understand, and negotiate with others. That’s impressive. Same for any other major combined with an English minor. Just do it. It’s important stuff.

Besides all of these excellent points, English is fun. How can you not love reading? There are all different things to read, you know! And writing is one of the best releases from a day of frustration. The theater, film, poetry, music -- all of these things have to do with the English language. Dive in. See for yourself.

NICHOLS COLLEGE BOOKSTORE

DIVERGENT & CATCHING FIRE

BOOKS MATTHEW POCHAL

Catching Fire By Suzanne Collins

Catching Fire, continues the journey of Katniss Everdeen after winning the 74th Annual Hunger Games. With the countries people beginning to rebel against the Capitol, Collins brilliantly puts together a new plot with a new twist to the overall series. Catching Fire is the second installment of the Hunger Games

Trilogy. Collins shows Katniss and Peeta on their journey along the Victory Tour. Throughout the Victory Tour, signs of rebellion begin sparking and ultimately lead Katniss to re-‐enter the arena once more for the 75th Quarter Quell. Collin’s masterpiece has you reading through the night, continuing with clifHhangers at the end of each chapter. Even when it is 2 o’clock in the morning, you will Hind it hard to put down the book and go to bed.

Divergent By Veronica Roth

In a future dystopian soci-‐

ety, author Veronica Roth shows the life of teenager Beatrice Prior in her fac-‐ tion of Abnegation. In Divergent, teenagers must choose to either leave their own faction or stay in it. The Hive factions include: Amity, Abnegation, Erudite, Daunt-‐ less, and Candor. When Beatrice leaves Abnegation for a new life in Dauntless, she is forced to hide that she doesn’t belong to any faction and that she is Divergent. Bea-‐ trice, who later changes her name to Tris, must hide herself and try to Hit

in the best she can with her new home. In the Hirst installment of this trilogy, Roth shows the trials and challenges that teens face when choosing their factions. Roth brings this brilliant book a new idea and gives readers a chance to imagine what faction they will be in. The book will hit theaters March of 2014, bringing new ideas and interpretations of the story to the big screen. Divergent is a book that is hard to put down and gives you the possibly to look into the future.

JAMEIL ALI

JULIANA CECERA

CHRISTINA BARROWS

CASEY FRANK JULIANA CECERA

CASEY FRANK

RYAN FINNEGAN

CASEY FRANK

MATTHEW POCHAL

RYAN FINNEGAN

MATTHEW POCHAL

RYAN FINNEGAN

Sunday-- Wednesday 10am-11pm Thursday-- Saturday 10am-12am