The Literary Panther

Advisors Geoffrey Kenmuir

Christine Redman-Waldeyer

Issue No. 3

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The Literary Panther, English Department

Passaic County Community College

One College Boulevard

Paterson, New Jersey 07505

Credits

Cover Art: Albert Bustos

Title: Interpretation of Mary (mother) and Jesus (child)

(Medium) Watercolor and ink

Back Art: Marcos Salazar

Title: City of Paterson

27 1/2 x 39 1/4

Feather and ink on canvas

2014

Layout: Christine Redman-Waldeyer

Cover Design: Albert Bustos

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Copyright © 2015. All rights reserved by The Literary Panther,

Passaic County Community College, Visions Newspaper.

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Contents

POETRY

Nanayaa Achanfuo-Yeboah………………………………………9

Albert Bustos……………………………………………………..10

Gemini Brown……………………………………………………12

Lisset Coletti……………………………………………………..18

Unique De Jesus……………………………………………........20

Noel-Lee Howell……………………………………………........32

Amanda Kibler…………………………………………………...33

Pedro Augusto Liranzo…………………………………………..35

Constance Leverett…………………………………………........36

Hannah Obadiah………………………………………………...37

Sara Rodriguez Vivero…………………………………………..43

Sugey Vigoya…………………………………………………….47

SHORT STORY

Albert Bustos…………………………………………………….51

Nic Cole……………………………………………………........55

CREATIVE NON-FICTION/ESSAY

Samantha Johnson………………………………………………61

Hannah Obadiah………………………………………………….......63

Jada Osgood…………………………………………………….69

ART/PHOTOGRAPHY Albert Bustos……………………………………………………73

Marcos Salazar…………………………………………………75

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P POETRY

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Nanayaa Achanfuo-Yeboah

“In Memoriam of My Grandma”

A Special memoriam to my wonderful grandma,

Who passed away, June 25, 2010

It’s been five years since she passed away.

She was my father, mother, and my friend,

And after all: MY GRANDMOTHER.

She was all of these to the very end.

We talked, laughed, she held me tight,

When I was scared, sick and everything else grandma’s, Will do to help

her grandchildren or grandchild.

I miss my grandma more than words can say.

My grandma pleasant ways and smiling face are a pleasure to recall.

She had a kindly way for each and died beloved by all.

Her life was so unselfish.

And for other she did live, not for what she would receive.

But only for what she would give.

Her face is ever before us.

A voice my family and I will never forget,

a smile that will last forever.

In memory we see her yet.

She accepted her pain and suffering with faith she endured until the end.

Without a doubt she will receive God’s blessing.

And will have a good health and life again.

Grandma I love you, and your children, grandchildren, great-

grandchildren

And cousins miss you. We will all see you resurrection day

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Albert Bustos

Rest in Peace, Rest in Power, J-Sun

It’s been more than ten years,

no more tears,

but I often wonder how you would be if you were still here.

Your reason for leaving for me is still unclear,

but I reminisce on your life while holding a beer

I was more friends with your brother,

and I can sincerely say like you; there’s still been no other.

I know this shit still probably kills your mother.

You were her youngest and greatest my dear brother.

An artist ahead of his time.

Your work, still till this day outshines mine.

You were younger than I was,

yet a teacher to all of us.

You would greet me with a big smile,

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when I would enter your room,

and then you would ask, “does it smell bad in here?”

and oddly enough it always smelled good like perfume.

Everything in your room, organized and fixed nicely.

This reflected in your artwork with every line placed precisely.

Something changed in you, because your organizational ways weren’t

there no more.

The way you carried yourself and the carelessness was happening more

and more.

Your spark left including your sanity.

You were mad at the world including me.

If I could go back in time, I would ask you to take a walk with me.

I would take you to see some art on the wall. You know our shit was

graffiti.

But the past is gone and I could’ve done more

Like when I would see you in your room and you would not come out

anymore

For that I hope God can forgive me.

At your funeral, your mom said she knew I meant it when I gave her my

sorry.

You live on in our minds and heart,

especially to those who see your art.

So sleep in peace my brother and rest well.

I ask God for mercy on your soul,

someone like you doesn’t deserve eternal hell.

(Title) Rest in Peace/Power Jason

(Medium) Colored pencils and ink

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Gemini Brown

Over My Dead Body

WAM!

Trying to figure out what to do

Loss of grace, tears down my face

A huge bruise black and blue

I cringed when he called me boo

He held me tight through the night

He said “I LOVE YOU”

So I stayed

WAM!

This strike was abrupt and fast

This bruise, bigger and bluer than the last

I’m sure we’re through

I’m on to something better

He said “I need you”

“You’re the glue that holds me together”

So I stayed

WAM, WAM!

In complete ahh

Out in the open, everyone saw

Left eye swollen

Complimentary broken jaw

3 times a fool

My bags are packed

I can’t believe it

He said “I’m sorry”

He never said sorry

He must mean it

So I stayed

WAM, WAM, WAM!

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Everything resembles a dream

My surroundings are dark & cold

I'm watching him cry

As I lay stiff in the bed

He said "this won’t ever happen again"

I realize it can’t happen again

Because…

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Gemini Brown

I'm dead

A Song from the Soul

While most of my friends are looking for Love

Cooking up a marriage

And training their kids to listen

I sit in solitude

Hungry for success

Driven by my ambitions

In the Last 5 years

Society started breeding drones

During that time

I succeeded their expectations

But none of my own

What’s your journey about?

To raise vibrations and bring peace

Or turn old pursuing gold?

You got two choices

Feed the ego or feed the soul

I've got this knowing that won’t let me fold

This knowing encouraged me

To extend the service of my soul

To those in need of a lift

In 23 years

I’ve found the gift

My luck comes from

Use of the tools given

When my work is done

I'll look for Love

Cook up a marriage

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And have fun training my kids to listen

Until then

I sit in solitude

Hungry for success

Driven by my ambitions

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Gemini Brown

Dancing In the Dark

It feels like we’re in quick sand

Drowning in a charcoal abyss

Will enlightened souls take a stand?

Or will 85% remain know less?

Without unity and love, there’s no plan

Just a catastrophic, chaotic, mess

Open your 3 eyes and see

We’re being programmed

Start embracing nature

And you’ll find natural cures

For the body and mind

Our square homes and over consumptions are

Issues that need to be tackled

Forget greed, Pick up a book and plant a seed

Put down the gadgets

That have become your shackles

New Order is being exerted through the cattle

Unconsciously we dwell in the shadows

The music has no message

Neither is it played live

Just computerized sounds

Blocking the light

Dumbing generations down

This scholar understands the plan

Willfully carrying the glow

His mission is to let others know

That everything around them

Is the personification of beauty and art

Instead of vitamins

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We can build strength through the heart

I will bear fruit

They will live in the ERA of conscious thought

Until then I encourage lost souls to

Stop Dancing the Dark

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Lisset Coletti

El Despertar de tu Cuerpo

Cuando el sol despierta y acaricia cuerpo

Cuando la ligera briza del mar de mis ojos dibuja tu silueta

Cuando el infinito sueño de mi realidad a tu lado es un misterio

Me regocijo de felicidad en el despertar de tu cuerpo.

Cuando los ligeros movimientos erráticos de tus brazos

atrapan mis sentidos en el arrítmico danzar de tus piernas

Cuando el abrir de tus ojos embriaga mi alter ego

Me regocijo de alegría en el despertar de tu cuerpo.

Cuando mis manos se pierden en el laberinto de tus cabellos.

Cuando tu bostezo se vuelve arrullo para mis odios

Cuando estirando tu cuerpo rozas el mío cual pluma al viento

Me regocijo de amor en el despertar de tu cuerpo.

¡Ay de aquel que ose interrumpir este momento!

¡Ay de aquel que rompa esta magia que emana tu cuerpo!

Porque no hay nada en este mundo que me deje morir y seguir viviendo

Que el enigmático despertar de tu cuerpo.

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Lisset Coletti

The Awakening of your Body

When the sun wakes up and caresses your body,

When the light breeze of my eyes draws your silhouette,

When the infinite dream of my reality around you remains a mystery,

I delight myself in the awakening of your body.

When the soft erratic movements of your arms

capture my senses in the arrhythmic dance of your legs,

When my alter ego gets drunk by the first look of your eyes,

I please myself in the awakening of your body.

When my hands get lost in the maze of your hair

When your yawn becomes a lullaby for my ears,

When your body touches mine like a feather on the wind,

I rejoice myself in the awakening of your body.

Woe to him who dares to interrupt this moment!

Woe to him who brakes the magic that gives off your body!

Because there is nothing in this world that could allow me to die and

keep living

Than the enigmatic awakening of your body

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Unique De Jesus

A Message To My Father I’m speaking up for my mother, and all women who choose to live in

silence,

Fighting to get through each day, victims of domestic violence,

And these feelings have built up, and now are so strong,

It’s been sixteen years, and that’s far too long,

Sitting back helpless, watching you cause her harm,

The countless swollen eyes, busted lips, and broken arm,

All those times, I saw you cause her so much pain,

And somehow, you made her feel like she was to blame,

You’ve made me hate the fact, that I bare your name,

But over the last year, a lot of things have changed,

I’ve been working out, just waiting for that day,

I hate what happened to my mother, but I’m glad it finally came,

I remember coming home, seeing her face all black and blue,

And all I could envision, was me getting my hands on you,

I couldn’t even speak, except to say this is the last time,

And I was prepared to do whatever, to end your favorite pastime,

Which was beating on the woman, who only always loved you,

And as wrong as you were, she never put anything above you,

I can still feel the adrenaline, coursing through my veins,

Thinking of all the ways, I could cause you pain,

Hurt you and scar you, as you’ve done to her,

All the images of her past bruises, made my mind go a blur,

Seeing them swollen and red, turning purple and then brown,

I set out on a mission, going all over town,

I went bar to bar, searching for over an hour,

On my way back home, you popped out, “You looking for me, Coward?”

And the seed of hate you planted, that day became a flower,

You took the first swing, and I just let the blows shower,

My hands rained down on you, with such a vengeful power,

I honestly could have killed you, because my mind went blank,

And after all you did to her, you still had my mom to thank,

She’s the one, who had the right words to stop me,

She said, “You’re not like him, you don’t have to be his copy!”

And truthfully, that’s the last thing I ever want to do,

Which is for whatever reason, ever be compared to you,

Maybe we never would’ve been rich, but you kept us broke,

You were never a father, never a man, you were just a joke,

And a week or so later, I found out you were a front too,

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Telling this dude in jail, that me and my boys jumped you,

When he came home, he learned you lied and you lost lots of friends,

Then a few weeks later I receive a letter from you, trying to make

amends,

Talking about the cause of it all, was the alcohol and drugs,

But even when you were sober, you never gave us hugs,

Showed us, or even told us, that you somehow cared,

So all that bullshit you dishing, you can leave right there,

Along with your apologies and pleas, to have a chance to be my father,

It’s way too late for that shit, so please don’t even bother,

But I do have a brother, you know your other son,

Who may not know any better, because he’s still kind of young,

And he could probably, get some use out of having a dad,

But one who’s a real man, not one living in a bottle or at the bottom of a

bag,

Who gets his rocks off, banging his hands on the defenseless,

But remember if it happens again, I’m beating you senseless,

I’ve always been a giver, my mother taught me to be selfless,

So from this day forward, I will always defend the helpless,

So now that I spoke my piece, I guess I’m done,

Sincerely the child, who was once your son.

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Unique De Jesus

Education of Communication

Education of communication,

Rhyming lines to me, is just a conversation,

Which causes mental elevation,

Making me see revelations,

Which other's perceive as hallucinations,

I'm often found in deep contemplation,

Yielding to poetry's temptation,

But I love the sensation,

Of these uplifting soul elations,

Which will one day strengthen relations,

Between all of Earth's nations,

And all of the Lords creations,

And some of my considerations,

That we all should be facing,

Instead of just racing,

Trying to find our placing,

We should really be pacing,

The time that we're wasting,

And more frequently be tasting,

The fruits of education.

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Unique De Jesus

Girl in the Red Dress I’m just sitting in the café trying to eat a meal

in between the two classes I have today. As I clean the thick red sticky sauce

of these barbeque wings from my fingertips

I notice at the table across from me

the most beautiful and inspiring sight

that I have seen in quite some time.

She was a tall, slender, young lady with caramel

complexion sitting there in a long red dress.

The pony that sat high atop her head,

opening up into the shape of a handheld fan.

The orangish-reddish colors that her hair was dyed,

and the way the light reflected off of it,

made it seem like 10 other shades of those colors

which made it resemble the tail-feathers of a majestic peacock.

This is initially what caught my attention.

But girl in the red dress,

I then noticed as you were all alone

just reading your book and writing down your notes,

you had the most amazingly attractive smile on your face.

You were enjoying what you were doing.

It was as if in that moment I could see

the words dancing off the pages of that book

entering your eyes and lighting them up,

which sparked a fire in your soul

and caused that feeling inside you

that made you smile the way you did.

Without even knowing, because I didn’t remember

taking my eyes off of her, or maybe her image

was just burned into my mind and was all I remembered seeing,

I had begun to write about her and

forego eating the food I had just bought.

I began to wonder, as she sat there scribbling her notes,

if the few times she looked over at me

if she had any idea or some type of feeling

that I was writing about her, or how her beauty had encapsulated me.

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Now when I speak of that girl in the red dress’s beauty,

I’m not referring to her fashion sense,

which was evident by the dress, shoes, and the jacket she wore,

but I saw the beauty in her learning and how I

could see how it was genuinely making her feel.

So girl in the red dress,

I hope you know that the most beautiful thing about you

is that mind you are nurturing, building, and strengthening.

I hope you never lose that quality

so that others that happen to gaze upon you

can be enlightened by your true beauty,

but also for you, so you can eventually have a mind

that is so strong that you know you don’t need

those fancy clothes or make-up to be considered beautiful.

Your thirst for knowledge and wisdom

is far more attractive than any other physical attribute.

So, girl in the red dress, keep being you.

And girl in the red dress,

for inspiring me to write in the spur of the moment, I thank you,

but you made my chicken and fries get cold,

and I hate cold food, but I thank you.

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Unique DeJesus

I Still Remember

I still remember my mind’s hunger,

From back when I was younger,

I would often sit and squander,

By the big maple tree down yonder,

And just let my mind wander,

Usually I would ponder,

About places perceived more fonder,

And at the time,

There was not a trace in my mind,

But later I would find,

Beauty is truly in the eye of the beholder,

I found this out when I was much older,

And my family moved to the city,

Life was more fast paced and the landscape less pretty,

I realized I took so many things for granted,

Like the butterflies that fluttered around the flowers Granny planted,

As well as the sounds of the birds,

And the smell of the herbs,

As I walked through the garden on my way to pick fruit,

That I would eat on the roof,

As I watched the horses frolic,

A life that was truly bucolic,

I later found to be so symbolic,

And to think I thought all that was melancholic,

But I learned hind sight is 20/20,

I thought I had nothing, when really I had plenty.

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Unique De Jesus

The Calf and the Cats

Out on a farm, one hot summer day,

A calf, duck, and mouse all went out to play,

Then the duck bust in the barn screaming, “FOR GOODNESS SAKE!

The calf is in trouble, we were playing in the lake.”

The dad cat ran so fast, and jumped in to save his daughter,

But the dad cat went SPLAT! Right in the water.

The dad never thought twice, that he couldn’t swim.

His daughter was drowning, so he jumped right in.

Momma cat yelled to the mouse,

“Hurry! Run! Get help from the house!”

The dad cat and calf were both saved by the farmer,

And now the momma cat could breathe, and was feeling much calmer.

For the rest of the day they didn’t let their daughter leave the barn.

It wasn’t to punish her, it was to keep her from harm.

The next day the calf said, “Mom can I go out. It’s such a beautiful day.”

The momma cat said, “Tell you what, your friends can come over to

play.”

The children laughed and they played, and soon became hungry.

The momma cat fed them, and said, “I’ll be in the room, if you want

something from me.”

The kids were eating and talking, when the duck said, “I don’t want to

make you sad.

But why aren’t you like your mom or your dad?”

Then the mouse added, “Yeah, you don’t have not one of their features.

It’s quite clear to us, you are two different creatures.

You’re already their size, so we just figure

As you get older, you’re going to get bigger.”

And just then, the dad cat was on his way to the kitchen,

To get something to eat, and he wasn’t trying to listen.

But he heard the calf say, “I don’t think that my parents know that we’re

different.”

So when the kids finished playing, and the others went home,

The mom, dad, and calf were left all alone.

The dad called the calf to the room and sat her down.

He said, “You scared us yesterday. We thought you had drown.”

The momma cat said, “I don’t know what we’d do, if we would have lost

you.”

And the calf replied, “Yes, I was pretty scared too,

But you and dad were there for me in the end,

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Then momma cat added, “Dad heard you talking to your friend.

So dad and I had a talk, and I think it’s time

To tell you the tale of how you became mine.”

The dad said, “Yeah, you’re just like your mom. She loved that there

lake.”

The calf said, “Dad, momma can’t swim. That must be a mistake.”

The dad went on, “Earlier I overheard you say you know we’re not the

same.

So, we’re telling you about your real mom. Bessy was her name.”

The momma cat said, “Your mother often asked us to watch you, her

daughter.

When she had to work, or wanted to wade in the water.

Then one night she went in the lake when everyone was asleep,

And wandered to a part of the lake that was deep.”

The dad cut in, “She couldn’t get out, and couldn’t make a sound.

And that night was the night that your real momma drowned.

And since we were friends and we already cared for you.

We vowed, from that day on, to always be there for you.”

The calf started crying and her parents just hugged her,

Even though they were different, there wasn’t a day they didn’t love her.

The calf then said, “I’m crying because I’m sad, and also because I’m

glad.

I’m sorry that I lost her, but happy I still have a mom and a dad.”

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Unique De Jesus

The Injustice of Their Justice

Today there should be no second guessing the lesson I’m professing,

I’m shining a light on who the government’s been oppressing,

And the job being done by the Human Rights Committee,

For lack of better words has really been shitty,

The government’s “War on Terror” created a generalized climate,

For the impunity for law enforcement officers and didn’t hide it,

This has contributed to the erosion of the accountability mechanisms we

had for these agencies,

Our oppressors have always been foul, but now they’re allowed to do it

more flagrantly,

Which has created a rise in government abuse and police brutality,

And now it persists unabated, undeterred, and unpunished nationally,

It’s opened my eyes, this is becoming a disaster to me,

PSST! “One nation under God” – that’s blasphemy,

The government is the biggest gang in our nation,

And the police are the henchmen that are the one’s defacing,

Their constitution, and without any retribution,

If you think about it, the whole thing is confusing,

You give a racist or bigot that much power, sooner or later they’ll abuse

it,

And having politicians of color hasn’t made a difference, the system’s

useless,

Regarding the case of Eric Garner, we all know what the truth is,

Who thinks this man should’ve died for selling a loosie,

I hope no one, because it’s clear cut abuse to me,

The government has made it one of their top priorities,

Whether right or wrong, to profile the young, the poor, and minorities,

But if we sit by idle and allow this kind of injustice to continue,

Not long from now, I could be Mike Brown, and Eric Garner could’ve

been you.

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Unique De Jesus

This Year After Martin Espada’s “Imagine The Angels of Bread”

This is the year that our government fears,

When every person of every color are viewed as peers,

This when we as a people see that everything changes,

And the homeless wanderers walk by the business tycoons and treat them

like strangers.

This is the year that all the world’s thugs and bangers,

Run up on each other giving hugs out of anger,

And the innocent girls of the world are struck by misfired embraces,

Or grazed by acts of kindness alongside their faces.

This is the year that Martin Luther King Jr’s dream becomes a reality,

And the longevity of every man’s vitality becomes a formality.

This is the year when young urban men of color,

Unjustly profile and accuse the police and government,

This when they’re found beaten, battered, and bruised,

Or left for dead in the streets wearing their blues,

And this is the time their families can’t get justice or find out the truth,

Because this is when innocent is the verdict of all those accused.

This is the year the Earth blatantly chooses not to recognize us as beings,

And the stars and other planets turn a blind eye like it’s something

they’re not seeing,

And they discard all their filthy and stinky, over-used and unwanted

upon us,

Knowing that they should be taking care of us, but acting like they don’t

want us.

And this is the year that the government tremendously increases worker’s

wages,

And the global economy endures a rise in price deflation,

Because this is the year the 99% is on the news on every station,

Showing how they took all they could from the top 1% of our nation.

And this is the year the employees who lost their jobs and in turn their

places,

Strip their bosses of their positions and all their begging and pleading is

simply wasted,

Because now they’re the ones who are viewed as dollar signs and not

faces,

And this is the year that peace will reign supreme over all of the nations.

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Unique De Jesus

What If

What if my father never noticed my mother?

What if she shot him down, because she didn’t want to be bothered?

What if that night I was conceived, he chose to where a rubber?

What if they decided to be friends, and never became lovers?

What if after I was born, he was around more?

What if I didn’t find him countless nights passed out on the floor?

What if I never saw him drunkenly abuse my mother?

What if she called it quit after the first time, and never had my brother?

What if I never had to help her walk, because she just couldn’t move?

What if I never saw him make her bleed or give her numerous black and

blues?

What if that time I was 7, I didn’t try to stab him with that knife?

What if I was never sent to live in that church, just what would be my

life?

What if the priest and nuns weren’t as nice as they turned out to be?

What if Father Steve never sent me back at the age of fourteen?

What if he sent me back sooner, then just who would I wind up to be?

What if he didn’t continue to show me all the good things that I’ve seen?

What if when I was gone or came back home, my father decided to stop

drinking?

What if that night we had that fight, we both did some better thinking?

What if I never chose to move out and get a place of my own?

What if I knew how love is really supposed to be shown?

What if I never got into that stolen car that got me arrested?

What if when I first started college I never left it?

What if my high school sweetheart never got pregnant and had my child?

What if I never decided to hustle and start living wild?

What if she never cheated and I never chose to leave?

What if none of my friends died and I never had to grieve?

What if? What if? I’ll tell you what,

I wouldn’t have done a lot of the bad things - but,

I wouldn’t have learned all the lessons that I did,

I would’ve had a degree sooner, but wouldn’t have my kid,

I wouldn’t appreciate the love that is now before me,

I wouldn’t have had all the tales that make up my story,

I wouldn’t be the guy who does things for love and not for glory,

I might have been someone else, maybe better, or maybe worse,

I wouldn’t wish the life I live on anyone, because at times it felt like a

curse,

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But everything that happened, and the person I am now, was all meant to

be,

Because if none of these things happened, then today, I wouldn’t be me.

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Noel-Lee Howell

The First and the Last

He tells me he loves me and cares about me

but he was only telling me things that I wanted to hear.

He runs every chance he gets,

and now he’s on the other side of the world

being with another girl.

She's kissing his lips that are my lips

taking all his time which used to by mine.

Singing our songs that reminded us of our love,

turning them into a joke, mocking me

making me look like a fool.

Because really I was wasting my time with you,

when I could have been with someone who truly gives a damn about me.

He would text or call me every chance he gets,

putting me before anyone else.

Reminding me that I'm the one only girl he will ever love

But now things have changed

I am now and forever be in his past

Never to existed

Erased from memory

Fading away into thin air

But trust

you will be the first and the last to get my love

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Amanda Kibler

I was everything for you but a basic heart a response to Renee Ashley’s Basic Heart

A basic heart

is not only milk & honey

it is a never-ending animal

without a throat

A consider of poems

& a holy pear

in folded hands

A lost fear of fire

& an empty river

Beneath a bronze door & songs

a basic heart never strikes bones—

it sits in an invisible yellow

burnt by a shadow

shadowing a light

& this turns the heart into

a dark lumen in a stallion’s

eye & a crow’s beak

pecking the fat

around the breast

of a naked teenager

34

Amanda Kibler

Facedown is the broken child

her mother waves a hand

across her caramel face

& she lay on white

grey linoleum tiles –

a leaking mouth

face down on an open prophylactic

wrapper sodden spit

& sweat

& semen

& a note: Get used to it.

35

Pedro Augusto Liranzo

Fortune Favors the Weak

Voluptuous electrocution,

Attribution of confusion,

Cometh with my resolution,

Settle for her prostitution.

An incubus for her starvation,

A succubus for his castration,

Loveless bond in aberration,

Leaves both hearts with no sensation.

Mentions of the fallen cries,

To which I may not call my own,

But the lies that die alone,

Which spies upon the midnight prize,

To burn Apocalyptic skies.

Childs’ games is what they play,

To think to give her a bouquet,

Betray and let the corpse decay,

Before they lead me all astray.

Diamonds carve the marrow cage,

To which I sell my heart and wage,

A war between the then and now,

Devoted in the ways of Tao,

I sail against the blood-soaked sea,

Enlist and kneel on broken knees,

With ring inside a blackened box,

Forever sealed by melted locks.

36

Constance Leverett

My Five Heartbeats

My five heartbeats are my everything

I hold their hand, they hold my heart

Each one makes my heart sing

To make my heart, each has a part

Aisha is my oldest, the responsible one

Rashad is so handsome, the ladies’ man

Nafeesah the baby girl, sweet as a honey bun

Alim and Al’Kadeem, my twin musical clan

I may not be perfect but when I look at my children

I know that I have something in my life that’s perfectly right

I have more reasons than a billon

Five reasons my heart shines bright

My five heartbeats have been there through the change

Without them life wouldn’t be the same.

37

Hannah Obadiah

What Is In a Name?

Slowly a sound echoes from a distance

Like a traveler from outer space

Wondering about afar

Calm! Danger beyond

It speaks faintly

Finally the voice of a roaring tiger

Close yet seemingly steady

There it approaches in bold repetitions

Fanatic I’d say

What a pity for anxiety yet nothing

A name that echoes best

It is indeed in a word forsaken

Not to mention replaced

38

Hannah Obadiah

Routine

Day by day

I stand by my register

What to do?

Soon customers rush in

Eventually my line is filled

In the next hour I don’t know

Who will come?

To buy what depends on the day

Minutes and hours has no meaning

I sign and I yawn

Time remains stagnant

Tick Tock! Tick Tock!

In vain I stand

But I cannot complain

Day by dad I stand

By my register still

39

Hannah Obadiah

Not In My House Sad lazy bum

A really sad lazy grump

What a goof for a fool

Thinking he’s all that cool

Humph! Pathetic

What is he all ecstatic?

With a really dumb look

On his face

He must have won a race

Hahaha …

There goes his stupid laugh again

Hahaha ….

What a goofball with nothing to gain

40

Hannah Obadiah

Do You Feel Me? Faster! Faster! Move you lazy good-for-nothings!

The shadows around me roused themselves as if from a deep sleep

and left silently in every direction

Auschwitz. Nobody had ever heard of that name

We went to wash. We were given new clothing

They brought us black coffee

I no longer care to live. I am alone. But I wanted to come back to

warn you only no one is listening

I advise you

Auschwitz. Let everybody find out about it while

they still have a chance to escape

I pray for to the God within me for the strength to ask

Him the real questions

Why, Why us?

41

Hannah Obadiah

Rhythms

He kept saying, “Rhythm is a very important element in everything we

do. It is found in music and nature. It is also essential in art. It is found in

speech, in movement, and in everyday life. It syncs together movements,

speech, and even language. How incredible is it that rhythm can be found

in the beat of the pulse, regular breathing, and the throbbing of the heart.

Can you hear it going padam padam padam padam? That is the rhythm

of your beating heart ladies and gentlemen.” The crowd applauded in

thunderous cheers at the stranger who had won them over with his

rhymes.

42

Hannah Obadiah

Johnny Boy

The first thing that came out of his mouth every morning was, “I don’t

want to go to school, mama.” His mama would always calmly reply,

“You think you too cool for school, ma boy?” “One day you’ll wake up

with nothin’. No mama, no papa, no Gizmo. Then what will ya have?

You’ll be like me. A wanderer. You’ll end up wondering where your

next bread will come from, who it’ll come from, and where you’ll sleep.

It’s a cold world out there Johnny. You gotta get yourself an education to

make me proud. Most importantly you gotta make yourself proud, ma

boy. Educate yourself or nobody will.” Johnny hopped out of bed, got

dressed, and never questioned his mama again.

43

Sara Rodriguez Vivero

Winter Covered with white snow |

hollow trees in the meadow

shine in the moonlight

Spring New sounds and colors

painting the earth like rainbows

brings it back to life

Summer Hot sun shining bright

blinding my brown eyes, no sight

shades not put on right

Autumn The cold gentle breeze

brushed against my soft pink cheeks

smelled earthy and sweet

44

Sara Rodriguez Vivero

Injustice

A Let me out now, I don't belong here

B No evidence was ever found of it

A This is a mistake, why can't you hear

B Nothing to guilt me, I'm not the culprit

C Another day gone by, has my case been dismiss?

D Left here to rot away like a dying oak tree

C I've exorcise my demons and tossed them in the abyss

D Long before I was convicted to the darkness surrounding

me

E Trapped alone in this cold forgotten room

F My mind wonders and voices whisper softly

E Hunting my dreams, I lay inside my hollow tomb

F Shaken I awaken knowing my time here will not end

shortly

G Will I stay sane after I've suffered this pain?

G Will I ever know piece of mind again?

45

Sara Rodriguez Vivero

Another way to die

It's Not Me It's You

What Can I Say

I Hate Everything About You

All Your Hate, I'm So Sick

You Make Me Wanna, Scream

You're Driving Me Insane

I Had Enough, Let's Begin, The Kill

Trigger Finger Itch

Guns Blazing

Click, Click, Boom

Target Practice

In The End

Getting Away With Murder

Opps I Did It Again

Note: // this is a free verse poem composed of song tittles

46

Sara Rodriguez Vivero

Fear It surrounds your mind leaving you senseless

Petrified by it you are left defenseless

Break away from it wake up from the trance

You have control take a step and advance

Finito! Well this has been a wrap

I got all my poems done in a snap

I don't need a map

To let my creativity unwrap

Come on now I deserve a clap

As you can see this is no act

I'm out of here man

Wake me up after my beauty nap

47

Sugey Vigoya

Five Years As the night falls

You come to my head

Whether I curl up and bawl

Or laugh at our memories while in bed

When words are exchanged, it is war

I cannot bear to see your name in my phone

Even if you are the one I adore

I would rather be left on my own

As I get lost in thought

Five years has weighed me down

I wish I knew what it was that you caught

Because every time we speak, the deeper I drown

The heart may want what it wants

But the darkness that comes with it will forever haunt

48

49

S SHORT

STORY

50

51

Albert Bustos

Carlito’s Dilemma

BANG BANG BANG!!!, Carlito was awakened by loud banging

at his door. He got up quickly and put his shirt on. Carlito knew who was

banging at the door, but he checked through his blinds to make sure.

Carlito knew it was only the cops that banged on the door that way and

he was right; there were four police squad cars in front of his house and

the street was blocked off at both ends with police cars.

Carlito started to sweat profusely at the thought of his drawers

and every room in his house having enough cocaine, heroin, and crack to

put him away for very long time. This house was one of many he owned,

but he used this house specifically to stash the drugs he was dealing with.

Carlito has never done any hard time for dealing with drugs or any other

illegal activity he was involved in, even though he was basically born

into a criminal life.

Carlito’s only experience with being “locked up” was for petty

crimes like being caught with twenty dollars’ worth of marijuana, or

drinking in public. Usually whenever he was caught doing something

wrong, which was rarely he was bailed out and maybe had to pay a fine,

but this was different.

“Shit!” Carlito said while looking all over the room thinking of

what to do next. “Come out with your hands up Carlos! We know you’re

in there!” said the cop on the megaphone. There was simply too much

drugs to flush down the toilet or to hide it someway. Carlito did not want

to give in; he dreaded the thought of spending years behind prison gates

and sharing a cell with a big black guy named “Bubba.”

Carlito knew that the police could come barging in at any

second. Still a little dazed from last night it occurred to him that he didn’t

remember how he got home, what he did, where he went or who he was

with last night. Carlito started to think hard because Carlito was not the

type to forget things. Since a child he always wanted to know what was

going on around him, he would never leave his guard down. He never

got too drunk or too high so he could know what was going on;

everybody that knew him knew this about him.

As Carlito went to one of his stashes to get his gun he suddenly

remembered the last face he saw last night, which was Josepito’s, a

childhood friend he grew up with and someone he saw as his “partner in

crime.”

Carlito was frantic he didn’t know what to do. Suddenly he

noticed his dresser where he keeps all his legal documents. It wasn’t how

he usually left it. His dresser looked like someone was rummaging

52

through it. He noticed his wallet was missing. His I.D.s were also

missing; his passport, social security card, his driver’s license, birth

certificate, bank account information amongst other documents.

Carlito had no time to dwell on what happened to all of his

paperwork. His main concern was dying or going to prison for the

remainder of his life, both in which he didn’t want to do.

He finally decided to surrender, but five minutes ago he was

definitely considering going out in a blaze of gunfire. He walked out of

his house with both hands behind his head. The cops handcuffed him,

told him his rights, and put him in the back of a police car. Carlito knew

this was the end of his life, as he knew it. No more shopping sprees, no

more Rolexes or vacations to Bermuda. No more fancy cars, none of

that.

As Carlito sat in the back of the cop car, he was still confused

about what happened. He was trying to put the pieces of the puzzle

together. Carlito was raised in the criminal lifestyle so for him to get

caught off guard like that was strange to him.

He definitely knew someone ratted him out. Then his mind

cleared for a few minutes and he realized that his friend Josepito was the

only person other than him that knew about this particular stash house.

Also during Carlito’s blackout he remembers faintly seeing Josepito’s

face.

Carlito didn’t want to believe that Josepito would do such a

thing. Josepito was like the brother he never had. He thought to himself

during the whole ride to jail and was hoping in his heart that maybe he

was dreaming while he slept last night and Josepito happened to be in his

dream.

As they walked Carlito to his cell he felt reality sinking in. His

mind had a million thoughts swirling around in his head. Carlito was

anxiously waiting to talk to his lawyer. I mean really this was his first

real charge other than the petty crimes he had committed. This thought

was comforting because he knew first offences weren’t penalized as

much, if you didn’t have a seriously long criminal record.

As Carlito’s lawyer finally got there Carlito could see that his

lawyer had a face that could only mean bad news. His lawyer Dwight, sat

down opened a file and went over some information. This was Carlito’s

lawyer, one of the best that money can buy and someone he developed a

close friendship with.

“Carlos someone was able to open your bank accounts and

withdraw all of your money.” “What?!?,” said Carlito in disbelief. “Yes,

someone stole your identity and cleaned out all your life savings.”

Dwight’s words were not believable at that second

53

to Carlito.

Carlito had a wife and two kids to support regardless if in prison

or not. He had a sick mother too, which he would pay all medical

expenses to keep her alive and well. His dad left when he was six. Who

would take care of them now that he didn’t have a penny to his name?

That was all Carlito would think about.

As if that wasn’t enough Dwight told Carlito the worst thing

possible. “Carlos the gun they found in your house was used in several

killings.” There was a moment of silence between Dwight and Carlito.

Carlito’s face looked emotionless. He slumped in his seat; he was going

through the worst time of his life. His world was flipping upside down

right before him. He was feeling nauseous. “The murder charge will keep

you behind bars for the rest of your life. Carlos I’m sorry,” Dwight said

in a very sad tone. Carlito may have been one of the biggest drug dealers

in his city, he may have gotten into plenty of brawls, he might have even

stolen a few things when he was younger and with no money, but he

never killed anybody because he never had to. The gun at his house he

kept was for protection and he never used it, but the thing is when he

bought his gun it was brand new right from the gun store.

Someone set him up nicely, but who? He was still trying to

figure that out. It was funny that Josepito didn’t visit Carlito in jail. A

month passed by and word gets around fast in his part of town. Josepito

certainly must have heard by now, Carlito thought to himself. After a few

weeks people within his small circle went to visit him. They told Carlito

that Josepito was missing. Carlito’s friend told him, “No one knows what

happened to Josepito nor where he is.” It was obvious that Carlito was

stabbed in the back by his “Judas” Josepito.

Carlito sat at the edge of his bed devastated. He began to weep

like a baby. He remembers so many moments that he shared with his

“snake” friend Josepito. The way they embraced each other like brothers.

Carlito’s only thought was “why?”

Six months into the system and Carlito went to trial and was

given life with no parole. His mother passed away three months after his

trial and his wife and kids moved to another state without telling him

where. Carlito’s wife was fed up with him. Carlito remembered the many

times his wife told him to leave the drug life alone, but now it’s too late.

As Carlito laid in his prison bed looking up at the ceiling, he

wondered where Josepito went and why he was betrayed by his “best

friend.” He wondered whether his ex-wife found someone new. The

thought of his kids brought him to tears always. And his mother was

gone forever without him being by her side during her last moments of

life.

54

While Carlito sat there with his thoughts alone to keep him

company, at that exact same time Josepito sat in his beach chair drinking

a margarita on a beach he owned off the coast of Costa Rica, with his

mansion-sized house just a few hundred feet away from the shore. No

guilt, no remorse just enjoying the riches his “best friend’ made while

risking his life and freedom to provide for his family with the best.

Carlito’s cellmate asked him why he was here in prison and

Carlito looked into his eyes and said, “Your best friend can be your worst

enemy.”

55

Nic Cole

The Call

Elle always had been given a bad hand with lovers. She'd been

through them all; the short one; the tall one; the bald one; the creative

one and lately the one she thought would be her ticket to the life she

dreamed of but signs pointed a different direction.

Instead, she just waited to see when the love was going to run

out, a road she knew all too well. And waiting by the phone for the

answer to her voicemail didn't make matters better. In fact, it drove her

crazy. To counteract her insanity, Elle sat up from the bed and grabbed

the matchbox that was placed atop of the burgundy dresser. She opened

it pulling out the last red tip.

"The flame has died," she said striking the match to light. She

watched as the fire traveled slowly down the wooden stick to the tip of

her fingers then fade out.

"The story of my life," she sighed before noticing her phone light

up. She reached for it quickly and answered the call.

"Hello," she said her voice raspy and soft.

"Hello," the voice replied on the other end.

"I...," Elle, clearing her throat, "I got your number from a friend

who said you help people in a jam. Well, I got myself into a jam and—"

The voice interrupted, "I want you to hang up and call this

number in five minutes."

Elle grabbed her black purse from the floor and searched for a

pen. She wrote the number down on the inside of her hand then ended

the call on her cell phone. She suddenly grew nervous and shot up away

from the bed pacing back and forth.

The blinds near the window were slightly drawn and she could

hear a faint drizzle beating on the window pane, which put her in a daze.

She was brought out of her daydream with a hurried knock on the door.

Frozen in her steps, Elle came to then walked quietly to the peep hole.

"Who is it?" she asked calmly.

"Management. Miss is everything all right?"

Elle partly opened the door. "Yes," she said.

"Our other customers complained there was a lot of commotion

coming from this room and, of course, we're checking to make sure

everyone is okay."

"Yes, Stuart, everything is fine," Elle answered reading his name

tag. "Forgive us for the disturbance. We'll keep it down for now on."

Stuart stared at Elle looking at the black smudged eyeliner that

wrapped around her brown eyes. Her dark brown hair was frazzled about

56

her head making Stuart believe there was more going on than what Elle

was letting on.

“Checkout is at 11 a.m. Do you need a wakeup call?”

“No, thank you. Enjoy your evening, my apologies.”

Elle closed the door and looked at the time on her phone then opened her

hand to dial the number. The phone ranged three times before another

voice answered.

"Hello," Elle said.

"Tell me what happened so we can address the situation with the

right response."

Elle paused in her thoughts, "The blindfold's been lifted," she

finally answered.

"Would you say it's too late for who, what, when, where and how

it went wrong?"

"I'm not sure if I even have an answer. I just thought that

something better would come along, and then I just—"

Elle began sobbing. Her tears rushed down her cheeks. She felt numb

inside. There was no comfort residing in a room with a broken heart.

"Would you say you're addicted to the idea of it all," interrupted

the caller.

Elle wiped her face with the bottom of her shirt and walked to

the bathroom. She grabbed a piece of tissue and wiped off a film of dirt

to see her reflection.

"Idea? No...I found joy and pleasure in the beauty of love. This

moment, this time, everything was supposed to be perfect as we moved

along to something that felt like it was meant to be."

"We've all experienced heart—"

"Not like this. I've believed fate dipped its hand in destiny, and I

found myself dreaming, but how many times do I have to keep making

the same mistakes—face the same kind of—what does it matter?"

"It matters," the caller said hoping to get to the reason for the

call. "At this point, I want you to tell me what you want; what you

need?"

"I need...I need to not feel."

"Would that make it all go away?"

Elle did not answer. She walked back to the room with the bed.

Glass was everywhere; pillows thrown to the floor and a bottle of

Amsterdam splattered on the walls.

"Would that make it all go away," repeated the caller.

"Yes. If love is to lose then I don't want to love at all," she

finally answered.

57

"Is that how you feel?"

"I feel love holds all prisoners and I'm an inmate wanting to be

free," Elle exhaled.

"Okay," the caller said. "I need you to follow these instructions."

Elle placed her cell on speaker phone and listened to the

directions she was given. She took the sheets off the bed and laid it on

the floor. Stepping over the glass, she stopped at Liam's lifeless body and

knelt beside him.

"You did this to me," she grunted in a low tone. "You devoured

me with passion and I loved it. Then you took a piece of me and crushed

it."

Elle took both hands and pushed Liam toward the sheets. It was

hard to move dead weight, but she kept on until he was wrapped inside

the cover. Then she took the ends of the sheets and tied it into a knot, top

and bottom.

Elle picked up the phone, "I did what you asked."

"Good. Now wait and text this number your exact location. Are

you sure this is what you want?"

"It's the only way."

Elle hung up the phone and texted the address. She sat on the

edge of the bed in silence. It was dark. She could hear the rain beginning

to subside and a few women chattering as they walked by her motel

room.

She reminisced when she first met Liam. He was quite the

charmer, full of life and free. Then, out of nowhere, he got lost in the lust

and the veil came off.

Elle's phone ranged breaking her trance. She answered and went

to open the door to let a tall man inside. Silently he entered and unzipped

his black book bag and took out a box placing it on the table.

"From this moment on, you will never feel again," he said, his baritone

voice strong and grave.

He walked closer to Elle and felt her breathing intensify. He took

his fingers and began unbuttoning her plaid shirt until his eyes rested

upon her pecan brown skin.

"You will remain absolutely still and utter not a single word.

Close your eyes."

Elle did as she was told. The man whispered a few words into

her ear and placed his hand on top of her heart. Elle gasped as he reached

into her flesh to pull out the pain. He placed it into the box then said a

few more words and watched as Elle's flesh closed up.

"Open your eyes," the man said, "It's done."

58

Immediately, he walked to the bedroom and picked up Liam's

body from the floor and placed him over his shoulder. He headed toward

the front door then looked at Elle sitting in the chair rubbing her chest.

She remained quiet, seemingly lost in a loveless world with the door

closing behind him.

59

C CREATIVE

NON-FICTION

60

61

Samantha Johnson

Untitled

Socrates believed that people should think logically and be independent. He was a non-conformist and believed that just because the

majority said it's right, does not make it right. Most people want to

believe that their superiors are right when they say something. Socrates

had the courage to question people and most of the time he found

inadequacies. He said you don't have to go to school to think. He listened

to opinions whether they were well thought out or not. Socrates believed

in making decisions because they were logical and reasonable not just

because the majority said it was correct.

When I think of truth, I think of living an honest life. You make

decision based on what you feel is right (even if the majority will not like

it). A common example I can think of with truth and honesty is if a friend

is in the wrong. It's hard for most people to tell their friend that they do

not agree with them. Most people will think that they're supposed to

agree with their friend because it's their friend. If you choose to live an

honest and truthful life, you have to be honest with your friend and

express how you feel.

"Happiness is not included" (Alain De Botton, Epicurus). We

live in a world of consumers. Material things are mistaken for happiness.

Epicurus said that the key to happiness is friendship. He asked his friends

to move in with him to be his permanent companions. He stated that

friends were not meant to be seen every once in awhile to grab a drink

with but to be seen all the time. The advertisement they posted in the

mall with a huge house and with the note stating happiness is not

included was very genius. You can have all the material things one could

handle but what does it mean if you have no one to share it with. No one

to make memories with. The second part of happiness he said was that

we need freedom; we need to be financially independent and self-

sufficient. As long as you have a little money to survive on with the

items we NEED and not the items we WANT, which we seem to mix up

often then we will find happiness. Lastly, we need to analyze our

life. Take time off to step back from the commercial world and be

anxiety free and worry free.

My ideas of happiness are very similar to Epicurus. It could be

because that's how I was taught from my parents and I've taken it in. Or

maybe I was destined to believe that anyway. My happiness if being

surrounded by friends and family. The catch to that is, friends and family

that push you up. We all have people around us every day that you think

are good friends or close family but their intentions are to bring you

62

down because of jealousy, hatred, etc... The reason I believe that being

surrounded by friends and family is the key to happiness is because it's

the memories that you make are important. Material items are nice, who

doesn't like nice things but if that's all that you are about, it shows how

shallow you are for one and second, what have you seen in the world?

What memories have you created with loved ones? To me, I would rather

go on a trip with my family than buy a $1,000 handbag. Once you are

gone from this earth, memories are what you take with you and

memories are what your loved ones remember you by. You can't take a

handbag with you.

Montaigne was a down to earth guy. He figured out that people

aren't comfortable with their bodies—we're worried about people judging

us and we are worried about being intellectual. He said we're surrounded

by the wrong role models. That's why he decided to be different and

write about different things such as farting and bowel movements. He

taught us that we think of our bodies as embarrassing and no one ever

talked about their bodies. He then states how animals are so natural with

their bodies and we should accept our bodies as animals do. Back then,

we would persecute those that were not normal, and if you felt that you

didn't belong his answer was to travel. Because what isn't normal in one

place may be normal in another. Montaigne states that having a mind can

lead us to happiness but you could be wise without having to go to

college. You don't need to know it all, you just need to experience some

humility. He makes an example of tests that are giving at Cambridge

saying that we're testing for learning rather than for wisdom. He gives

the graduates a test asking questions like what is love? How can you

correct being anxious? The point he was trying to make was people may

learn the facts but not apply them to everyday life.

As a female it's very hard to not let others judging you effect

you. Females, more than males have this idea of what their bodies should

look like and what it doesn't look like. We tend to be very hard on

ourselves. Females may also look at the wrong role models and think

well I don't look like her I must not be worthy. Socrates, Epicurus, and

Montaigne all have great points from being independent, surrounding

yourself with friends to make you happy to being comfortable with who

you are and that it's ok to talk about things others may not feel

comfortable talking about. All you can do day by day is to compete with

yourself. Try to be a better person than you were the day before. Be

happy with who you are, be proud of who you are but be humble enough

to know that there is always room for improvement.

63

Hannah Obadiah

Dear Dad

Like a typical graduation ceremony, the graduates walked in

synchronized pairs as the familiar graduation song played. They wore

dark brownish-red color caps and gowns and all of the school officials

were present. Parents were also present and even younger siblings and

relatives of the graduates. Everyone was so pleasantly dressed and

seated. Looking around the auditorium I saw many traditional African

outfits. Kente cloth mostly. A type of silk and cotton fabric made of

interwoven cloth. Beautiful traditional Kente attires in all types of styles

of colors and designs. One family seated in front of me particularly stood

out. It was an African family of three, but I couldn’t tell you which

country in Africa they were from then and I probably wouldn’t be able to

tell you now. The mom and dad had matching shirts and pants while the

son had a hat made of the same piece of Kente fabric. I thought to myself

this is definitely not John F. Kennedy high school back home in

Paterson, New Jersey.

Soon I heard MOUNT VERNON HIGH SCHOOL CLASS of

2009 followed by cheers and applause throughout the auditorium. After

the graduation ceremony, my friends and I waited outside to congratulate

our friend Silas. Both of his parents were present. They embraced him

and gathered for pictures. I volunteered to take the pictures. At every

snap of the camera, I realized how different my family was from my

friend’s. I only had my mom and older sister Abigail at my elementary

school graduation. Come high school graduation just my sisters Abigail

and Selina were present along with friends and relatives, but neither of

my parents were able to attend because they had to work. I had always

understood the circumstance of my parents and it didn’t bother me until

that particular day. I made a wish to myself that my children would never

have to feel the way I felt on that day.

Dear Dad,

I had never realized the importance of money until that particular

day in Virginia. How I wished you and mom were there to witness for

yourselves how proud these African parents and other parents from all

over the world were as they took part in the next phase of their children’s

lives. These were graduates who were about to embark on a journey in

hopes of a financially secured future for themselves and their families.

The point here is that these parents were there to share the moment with

their children. This is something that never bothered me until that day.

As I stood there taking the pictures of Silas with parents by his side, I

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reminisced about the days back home in Ghana when mom never missed

any school events. Back then she’d pick us up after school and drop us

off early in the morning. These days, however, I’m lucky to bump into

her outside of the house in the early weekdays on my way out to school

and she on her way to work. I thought to myself will I ever be able to

relive the good old days again? In the closing statement of the

valedictorian’s speech she cried as she read from her crumbled paper the

struggles her parents have gone through in America working double jobs

to provide shelter for the entire family. You should have been there to

hear the thunderous cheers from the crowd in the gymnasium. I have

accepted that nothing can be done about the past, but I plan on changing

the future. A future where you and mom aren’t working so many hours

anymore and you won’t have to miss out on anything important to your

children or grandchildren for that matter because by then I’ll be a

successful millionaire writer.

Sincerely,

Your daughter,

Hannah

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Hannah Obadiah

Listening Is an Act of Love

My best friend Annette and I have always been close. Even

though she lives four hours away in Lorton, Virginia, she is around quite

often. We are only two months apart by birth. She will forever be

engraved in my memory as the one who pulled a chair for me to sit on

the first day of third grade back in Ghana. I remember nervously walking

between the tables and chairs to the watchful eyes of the kids in the

classroom. When I got to the last empty chair at the back of the room,

without saying a word she gestured for me to come closer. She then got

up and pulled the chair next to her and calmly said, “You can have a seat

next to me.” That’s how far back our friendship goes and we’ve been

inseparable since then. In the middle of eighth grade my family migrated to the U.S. for better opportunities and to be closer to our dad. Coincidentally, around

the same time Anne joined her parents in the U. S. who had settled in the

Virginia area about fifteen years ago. Although Anne and I were hours

apart, we were very much updated about each other’s life whether via

text messages, FaceTime, Whatsapp, or Skype. In the summer of 2013, I decided to travel back home to Ghana to visit the rest of the relatives. Ghana is a small country on the Gulf of

Guinea and Atlantic Ocean in the Africa frontier of Sub-Saharan Africa

with a population of a little over twenty four million. The word Ghana

means warrior King. On the night before I departed, Anne called. She never calls unless if it’s important to her. “Make sure you have your cell phone on you 24/7, Hannah,” she said. “Something might come up and you’ll need to make a quick phone

call. You know who to call if anything comes up,” she added.

“OK. I will,” I replied and hung up the phone. When I got to Ghana, I found out my paternal grandmother was on bed rest back in the village, so I decided to spend some time with her.

I was only going to be in Ghana for six weeks, so every minute was

precious. At ninety five, my nana looked very healthy with all sets of her

teeth still intact. Minus the many wrinkles around her hands, she could

pass for Betty White’s much younger sister. Although she didn’t speak

much, she laughed and ate all her meals without any assistance. I would

sit by her bed and tell her stories about the times she used to scold me for

disobeying my mom by refusing to do my chores or go to school. She

would only nod and comment, “I hope you’re being a good girl now,

Hannah.”

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One thing it seemed I had forgotten over time was the poor internet connectivity back in the village. This is a village of less than one

thousand people. Everybody is familiar with one another, so basically it’s

all one big happy family. The entire time I was in the village, the internet

connectivity to my iPhone picked up signals at a few places such as far

up in the hills. Each morning I would walk a mile or two up to the hills in

order to be able to make a quick phone call. Along the road old man

Kwame pushes a herd of goats and cattle. Old man Kwame is a farmer

who lives across the street from my nana’s. He’s probably a little over

eighty, but he looks fit as a fiddle. After walking more than a mile up the

hill, I’d hold up the iPhone for some minutes. This wasn’t the same for

all phones. The pay phones on the sides of the roads worked perfectly

fine, but it didn’t make long distance calls abroad for whatever reason.

These pay phones are old and torn with little dirt all over them, but that

doesn’t stop people from using them. As the sun rises over the lush green

hills of the village, dozens of people line up along the dusty roads,

waiting to make their important phone calls. Samsung phones could

receive and make phone calls without a problem as well. My aunt had an

old Samsung phone which enabled her to communicate freely with my

parents without any technical difficulties. I would get numerous text

messages and phone calls throughout the day, but I could only reply back

to a handful of them. Between spending time with my nana and the

numerous visitors that visited me daily including distant relatives and

friends, I had completely forgotten about Anne and anyone else in the

U.S. The very next day after I returned to the U.S., I received a phone call from Anne. “I’ll be in Jersey the next day,” she stated. “And oh! Welcome back,” she added and hung up.

Around 10:00 a.m. the following morning, the doorbell rang. I

peeked through the window and there she stood with three huge

suitcases. “Are you here to stay for a weekend or a year coming here with all your suitcases,” I stated matter of fact as I dragged her many suitcases

inside the door. Without a word, she sat on the living room sofa and

starting crying. “What’s wrong, Anne?” I asked to no reply. I grabbed a tissue to wipe the tears on her cheeks, but that didn’t help. Her sobs only seemed

to increase by the second. I could only sit beside her and cry as she cried. “Why are you crying? You don’t even know what’s wrong. Stop the foolishness, so I can tell you my story,” she finally spoke with a little

crooked smile.

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So then she began her story. “You know Dominic and I have been going out for three years, but we broke up when you were gone

because I said I wasn’t ready to marry him. I mean I’m only twenty two

and you know my parents will not allow me to marry until I finish my

master’s degree and get a real job. Oh no! I’m talking about a real job

where I can provide for future kids and myself. Dominic keeps

pressuring me to tell them about our relationship and you know my dad

would flip burgers if he knew I had a boyfriend let alone someone who

wants to marry me at such a young age,” She paused for a few seconds as

if waiting for my response. “So how does that make you feel,” I quickly replied. “How does that make me feel? How do you think that makes me feel?” she asked. “Angry?” I shot back. “No. Disappointed is more like it. I was so disappointed that I told my parents I’ll be living in Jersey for the remainder of the summer,”

she added as she wiped the rest of the tears from her face. “You mean you’ll be living here for the rest of the summer, but eventually you’ll go back to Virginia to face the same problem?” I asked. “Well not technically. I call it clearing my head. I want him to know his wrongs. I’m worth the wait. Love is patient. He needs to read

the bible more often,” she added. “I told him to wait until next year to

make our relationship known which is when I graduate from college, but

he’s so stubborn,” she continued. “Let it all out. How does that make you feel” I asked. “I feel stupid. He is so persistent and always wants things his way. I just can’t understand his tiny little brain sometimes. You think

God gave him the wrong cortex?” she asked as if to see if she had my

full attention. “Now that would be funny,” I said between joking and seriousness. “I do think I’m too young to marry, but what if he’s the one and I let him go and I never get to marry because I let the right guy go. I’m so

confused,” she said fighting back tears. “Don’t worry about a thing, Anne. I’m sure you guys are going to be just fine,” I said while helping her to her feet. “However, for now I think we should sleep on the decision making for tonight. Dominic loves you. You and I both know that. For

the mean time your favorite breakfast won’t hurt. Every little thing is

going to be all right,” I said as we headed to the kitchen to prepare her

favorite blueberry pancakes and scrambled eggs. “I knew I came to the right person,” she finally said with a smile.

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“Of course you did. I’m your confidante and don’t you forget it,” I added.

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Jada Osgood

A Look into the Big Girl World

Underweight girls have a harder time fitting in to society than

overweight girls do. This statement has been presented on many social

media platforms and in conversations. It has sparked up heated debates

and caught the attention of many women. Many women have agreed with

the position of the original statement while the point of view of an

overweight girl is overlooked. Looking at this statement through the eyes

of an overweight girl will hopefully end an ongoing debate.

One aspect of a thicker female’s life is the fight for equal rights.

An underweight girl is not considered a hindrance to society, the way an

overweight girl is. A heavier set female cannot walk into any store and

assume that their size will be there. For that reason there are special “plus

size” branches of clothing stores such as Rainbow Plus. Also, if a size

XXL is found in a regular department store, there is usually an upcharge.

In contrast, there is no upcharge on clothes for a smaller size. This causes

an overweight female to feel mistreated by society. In a sense, thinner

women have more freedom. They are free to walk into a fast food

restaurant and order what they please without ridicule, as opposed to

thicker women who do not receive that same luxury. Overweight women

are not treated fairly in the material world as well as the media world.

One classic insult to an overweight girl is, “she’s pretty for a big

girl.” The word “pretty” in the statement can be swapped out for various

words such as “fast” and “sexy.” When speaking of an overweight girl,

in that manner, it cannot go unmentioned that she is bigger than average.

The same compliment given to an underweight female is simply, “she’s

pretty.” Celebrities like Heidi Klum and Nicole Richie are considered

beautiful, and rightfully so. But Jill Scott and Melissa McCarthy are

considered flawless for “plus sized” celebrities. On the 17th season of

ABC’s Dancing with the Stars, the winner Amber Riley received mixed

reviews on her moves. Although most people felt she was an all-around

good dancer, some people felt it necessary to say “She dances good for a

big girl,” or comments similar. Overweight women, regardless of their

skills, looks, or accomplishments, will constantly receive reminders

about their weight.

Some underweight women argue that overweight women have

too much pride in their bodies. But with the amount of criticism they

receive it takes an immense amount of self-confidence to get through

life. Although a lot of women are disgusted by their image, no female

has to come to terms with their body more than overweight women.

Women that are heavyset have to deal with constant judgment from

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people around them and society. The media portrays beauty as tall and

thin. Any woman can open a fashion magazine and will only see models

that are skinny and pretty. For an overweight girl this makes her believe

that she isn’t good enough and comes to hate her shape. But overtime,

overweight women begin to accept their shape and ignore the judgments.

This is when the big girl pride steps in. It takes thick skin to deal with the

hate overweight women intake and an abundance of pride is a result of it.

These are points that can be argued, that overweight women

have a tougher time than underweight women. This does not mean that

this is the case all the time. Again this is a general point of view of an

overweight woman. As an overweight girl, I can attest to the statements

made in this essay. Although in the end, every woman feels a sense of

insecurity about their size. But honestly, it doesn’t matter if a female is

overweight or underweight. The female population is made up of

different shapes and sizes, and every woman is beautiful. So to any

female reading this, no matter what your size, have pride in your shape

and stay gorgeous.

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A ART

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Albert Bustos

(Title) Dr. Waldeyer’s Bees

(Medium) Colored pencils and ink

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Albert Bustos, (Title) Inspired by Necrology

(Medium) Colored pencils, markers and ink

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Marcos Salazar

Most Famous, 2014

27 1/2 x 39 1/4

Feather and ink on canvas

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Marcos Salazar

New York – Paterson, 2014

27 1/2 x 39 1/4

Feather and ink on board

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Marcos Salazar

Silent Comedies, 2014

Pen and ink

24 x 31 inches

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Marcos Salazar

Echos of Silence, 2014

Digital Photography

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Marcos Salazar

Whats left - Addy Mill

Digital Photography

2013

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Marcos Salazar

Destruction of Self

Digital Photography

2014