There is a special place for literary work in this world. In times of hardship or in times of joy, we turn to literature and creative writing as means of coping, a way to express words or feelings that we would never or could never say aloud.
A collection of art can be the loudest form of expression. A picture can speak a thousand words. A story can take us somewhere we’ve never been. A poem can reach across distance and time.
IMPRINT is a collection of those creative works that are nearest and dearest to their authors. Regardless of medium, these works speak louder than you might expect at first glance. But what are they saying? That is entirely up to you.
As you wander through this collection, our hope is that you will be transported through the work, reflect on their lessons, listen to the words they tell you and even closer to the
ones they don’t. And hopefully they will leave an impression, an imprint on your soul.
Being the inaugural issue of the Marquette Wire LitMag, IMPRINT is the beginning of a new era of content for the organization. Thank you to all who submitted work for consideration; without your contributions, this publication would not be complete.
Thank you!
Sincerely,
Kiley Brockway and Kimberly Cook LitMag Project Coordinator & Managing Editor of the Marquette Journal
Coquí noises and cold ceramic tile under my naked feet. Shades of green peak through the cracks in my window and My bathroom smells of petroleum jelly and lilacs. The medicine cabinet sweets.
Jugo de parcha and Avocado mash under Lemon juice and salt sprinkles. Elbow deep in the suds of the kitchen sink Silver spoons scratch porcelain plates And the sun finally hits my face.
Call it nostalgia,
Call it whatever
But these are my lenses of roses and better
Sepia selections of the finest hour
Still smiles, know love, keep joy, feel power
Adorned and adored
On a silver platter
I could not bear to shatter
Call it ridiculous,
Call it inane
But these passing moments do not feel the same
I’d rather know pendulums paused mid-swing
Than pass through seconds of in-betweens
My emotions all stored
Kept on the screens
That captured my cherished scenes
Call it remembrance
Call it all vain
But to look to the future cause my vision strain
Clinging onto what holds me in shape
Encased in frames, filed on film slates
A whole timeline explored
Yet the clocks still complain
They snatch me back into place
Call it impossible
Call it untold
But the tick won’t stop, soon I’ll go cold
So what meaning do my mementos hold?
At what expense can I dream
To grasp at a past by its seams?
Just like that, my memory cored
By the minutes that seize control.
Day to Night to Night to Day, For how long will I waste away?
Days become decades and all I know
Are the dirt and worms living under my stone
Have I been forgotten in this pretty case?
With these pretty garbs as my only grace?
Forever, I suppose I wonder, Why give me time to waste?
Moon to Stars to Stars to Moon
I hope to see a full one soon
Seconds to Seasons have long gone by
Since I’ve seen a twinkle with my own eye
I rest with my face to the galaxy
Yet this case shrouds it from me
Infuriating! I question why I must be here, hidden from the sky
Past to Present to Present to Past, For how much longer will this last?
Minutes or Millennium, I can’t tell Has this case become a cell?
I’ve grown stiff, in rigor mortis
Eternity has stolen my limberness
So I lay, with forever to ponder, Will my future be like this?
Day to Night to Night to Day, For how long will I waste away?
The past to present to future blends
To this existence that sees no end
This suffocating case has grown morose
And I impatient of this encroach
I’m beyond the wonder, care not to ponder, This case is all I know.
a hollow home weeps between their wooden floorboards it is home to none in the tears, a stem peeking through crying planks slowing sobbing pipes just atop the green is a golden in its bud waiting to blossom this hollow home is not so empty after all something here still lives. yet it still wallows lamenting, for it has no soul to hear it cry wind pushes away tattered curtains with a breeze blowing in an ear so perched on a ledge sit a small orange and black white spots on its wings this hollow home is not so empty after all someone here listens. yet the waterworks are flooding its weathered rooms still unsatisfied it whines and wails since its walls are cracked and peeling from floor to ceiling
and there, in the splits creeping in a shade of jade filling them with life this hollow home is not so empty after all something here still seals. however this home with somebody to listen and wounds bandaged still leaks tears from faucets spilling from sinks onto floors what more does it want? rising waters drowning the blossoming gold immersing the jade inundated, the orange and black is washed out lost to the currents this hollow home is not so empty after all something overtakes. and so, this home drips from its roof, its ceiling, its floorboards are left soaked this hollow home has no ear, no bandage, no life it is home to none.
Go talk to the friar who knows no prayer
Once you wish to repent of your crimes
Then should you know of the burden you bear
Why listen to false prophets who forever swear
Of future tense fortunes only when stars align?
Go talk to the friar who knows no prayer
He knows of their crusades and selfish affairs
How solemn souls suffered by biblical lines
Then should you know of the burden you bear
And as you speak, forgive his stare
He is wary of those who follow the divine
Go talk to the friar who knows no prayer
And what you confess he shall not share
For he knows the power of the wine red
Then should you know of the burden you bear
Leave now, see him to be spared
Think freely! Reject the gospel chimes!
Go talk to the friar who knows no prayer
Then should you know of the burden you bear
They tell me you’re bad luck
A curse
But I find it serendipitous that I found you
Right at the end of my journey, right as yours was beginning I watched you perch with the stillness of a gargoyle
Waiting for traffic to cease
Wondering if the bad luck would begin so soon Until you saw me
I knew you brought no bad omen
We had a staring contest
In the dim streetlights, in the calm after a rainstorm
Somehow despite my concentration
You saw I didn’t care about winning
You didn’t even make me meet you halfway
Your brush against my leg was far short of an embrace
Not even a single step in the grand scheme of your journey
As you perched on the next curb
Ready to continue without me
In the wet grass field, you saw a fence
But did not shy away
I spent just another moment with you And saw you slink off towards a tree
I didn’t know where you’d follow the pale moonlight to next But it was no concern of mine
As I was none of yours
Trapped in a constant wave of never enough, Disappointment crashing at every moment. Drowning in defeat while fighting tirelessly, A break of air is an impossible grasp away.
Falling down again and again to misplaced resolve, Fierce light overtaken by demanding darkness. Breath stolen by warring words of irrational rage, Initial resilience of hope has worn out.
Slowly a broken peace settles within, The cause clear ahead begs no remorse, Ridicule has questioned who I am. Here I sink in the endless expectations, Worth in my own eyes as the light forever ceases.
Blood, sweat, and tears dedicated to a mission, When all along it ends with a final breaking submission.
Years of persistence and building strength, Trying to go that never ending extra length. All to give in from exhaustion and disappointment, Resulting in a battle of defeat and resentment. Surrender of a love so deep, You can’t resist the urge to weep. A heavy mourning and discovered grief, That will impossibly evolve into relief. Dreams have fallen into the wrong hands, Whose corruption delivers unfair demands. Sacrificing self acceptance of having enough, Comes with the broken promise of never giving up.
Like a stiff drink, Reaching a high with an inevitable fall, The knowing low. Yet still recklessly pursuing it, Addicted to wanting the ideal haze, Everyone around you will tell you When you’ve had enough.
Blind in a blurred reality, Fighting against a steady soul. One moment of weakness, Will not justify the continuous faults.
Oneself is to blame, For the never ending cycle of pain. Grieving a wound that remains open, From self sabotage and naive hope. Wishing to see change, After years of destruction and rebuilding.
As you climb for the high, it burns going down. A sign to let go ignored, pushing the pain away. Desperate to hold onto the rush, Exhilarating for only so long. That voice of reason suppressed, Temporary influences shooting back inhibition.
Eventually the excuses cease to be responsible, The potent toxicity will always remain, One’s downfall at the same hands that grasped it.
So the choice is fundamentally simple, Walk away from the poisonous quest for fleeting happiness. But broken control results in the same defeat, And you’ll tell yourself that you will never drink again. Until you do.
When I heard the prompt of career and culture, my mind directly went to “The American Dream”. The very core of career and culture in the US and worldwide. There have been many mixed feelings about “The American Dream” in the current or past political, economic climate. I wanted to also point out the uncertainties of the
that American Dream. So, to start off, I went with a US flag that would act as a context and symbolism in the art piece. I didn’t want to make the typical flag, so I made it interesting by having the stars flying, very much like the American Dream is described sometimes.
Then very inspired the whole phenomenon of the butterfly effect1and continuing the symbolism of flying, I incorporated a golden butterfly representing Marquette University colors that I am creating this piece for. Throughout the piece, I have tried to incorporate Marquette Spirit colors: Blue and Golden. Since the butterfly effect puts emphasis on the individual action and strength to make big things happen but doing very small, sometimes considered negligible things. I wanted to highlight the importance of taking small steps towards what you want to achieve, and you can accomplish big things.
I named this piece White Swan. This reference is taken from the movie “Black Swan”. This movie talks about the unhealthy obsession with perfection towards one’s work (ballet in the movie) which leads to the main character’s self-destruction. The opposite of the black swan in the movie is shown the “White Swan”, who is happy and peaceful with it’s work but continues to push forward and practice daily as if it has reached the career success one wanted. So, the White Swan in the artwork signifies the peace, calm, contentless one should feel after achieving one’s goals. And even if you haven’t achieved it yet, then keep pushing forward, and that perseverance should come from a place of love for oneself and work and not from the stress of being validated and being perfect the first try. I also put the swan in the middle of chaos to emphasize the strength of a stable mind. I know it does not look as white as it should, that is because I
wanted to show shadows in the piece to enhance its shape.
To be more straightforward with the theme of persevering despite imperfections is the center words in the middle of the butterfly. I put it in the middle because I wanted it to be in the core of the butterfly effect action. I put perfection in cursive writing at the top to show the beauty and perfection, and then in bad, wobbly handwriting, wrote ‘imperfect action’, and kept writing it. I wanted the tiresome feel and significance of regular action, so I repeated it.
On the left side of the wing of the butterfly, I incorporated my culture. I am from India, more specific, my culture is Punjabi. In my culture, there is a saying about “dana pani channa teh sab da”. Its literal translation is “bird food and water are fixed for everyone”. More philosophically, this means that everyone has a destiny written for them by God, everyone has their share of food and water which only you will get and what is not written for you, you could not eat or drink it despite it being right in front of you. This does not mean one who does not need to work to fulfill their goals but instead to ease anxiety of people that they are going to get what they deserve and have in their destiny. So, to incorporate this part I put a earthen clay pot which is used widely in India to feed birds water, since the clay keeps the water cold in tropical weather. And the pot with bird food to signify that.
In the rough bright green tree in the side wanted to show the struggles of immigrants who come to this country to fulfill their American dream. That is why I have hopeful, sad eyes in the bottom reflecting the opportunity and the hurt of leaving one’s motherland. Being an immigrant myself, this was important to me to showcase, and it also goes well with the American culture, after all this country’s founding
roots were the immigrants. So, wanted to give them an ode, if it weren’t for all the immigrants, America would not be the America, it is today. I also wanted to show the harshness and adversity of the immigrant story, so I included the thorns much like the phrase ‘every rose has its thorns’ which are not very visible that is because this is a draft, I needed finer sharpies to create that look. I also have some hopeless looks in the bottom, showing the hopelessness of people who have not yet achieved their dream. I also connected them to the stars in the sky by a purple ladder, which is drawn roughly, midway, there is the swan, signifying all the things I said earlier about it. They are slowly getting all those things that the white swan represents. The heart with a hand represents the love and support that I want to show other immigrants, refugees or anyone who’s trying to make by working so hard.
I put the green dollars in the bottom right corner, to me money is important but not more important than the journey to reach them. The journey of ups and downs is what makes a human being resilient, and self-actualized. Money is just the byproduct of hard work. I also want to say the money disparity is also another issue, the hard work sometimes does not equal pay. That is why I will make the money with green craft paper to represent its fickleness and disparity.
Right next to it, I wanted to include something cliché about corporate America, so I put a collared shirt with a tie and then wrote “formal, business wear much?”. Also, to all the criticisms of the American dream, I wanted to leave something about that too, so, wrote “THE MYTH”, “THE DREAM” to also validate some of the true problems with the culture but also leaving it to every individual to choose, just like the American individualism.
