Sptin(J iJssue 1996: ;t,1."saie ptesenteJ 6it q/,e t-ue,atit ,A,ts S"eietit Welcome to the Litera r y Arts Society ' s final Mosaic of the year. We would like to thank everyone who submitted their work to us . It is these imaginative and creative minds that drive our effort s forward to make Marist a true literary community . Unfortunately, we were not able to publish all of our submissions, but we do appreciated the high volume of submissions we received . If you ever find yourself writing a poem you might want to consider sending it our way . Any submissions s hould be put in the Literary Art Society Mailbox (Council of Clubs Room , SC 368) . Thank you for time in reading through thi s edition, we know you will be pleased with it. Editors Jackie Lynch Rene Isgro Sonya Mello Kristen Carlson Jeannine Burns Joe Marranca Dave Was Adele Thaxton Meghan Sloan Merrideth Hawk Editor in chief Jason Crandall President Literary Arts Society Mark Francisco In the distance A man stands Not a tall man Not a strong man A man stands In the distance. In the distance A man moves Not a fast move Not a smooth move A man moves In the distance. In the distance A man falls Not a long fall Not a hard fall A man falls In the distance. In the distance A man dies Not a slow death Not a painful death Yet none help him In the distance. -Anonymous Stream of Uncon s ciousn ess 5 Confuse-a - Cat Buck the cat! Yeah , get Socks out of office The mighty Scotch Pine controls me The trees are the Democrats The Democrats are the trees I am like a simile Tell me I'm beautiful tell me I ' m a tree I am a Scotch Pine Only Wisconsin is immune to my power Damn the cat Tree can't control the cat Cat has his own agenda Control the country strike a pose annex Kentucky Annex Kentucky NOW Follow the trees - Bryan Walko Drifting Everyday I go further off Broken off from you Pain has driven me off Drifting and drifting Distance widening Distant You say Why? Because I have to Distancing myself from you everyday One day I'll be gone Drifted out of reach Never to return One day the distance will be uncrossable Please remember me! Even at a distance I will still and always . .. Distance deafening To far away Cannot hear me Even if you could You would probably not listen Not gone And I miss you already - Joe LaPosta The Squirrels By Meghan Sloan Ther e wa s a magn e tic attraction toward the garbage dumpster under my window . They wer e controlled by it s power. It was the s quirrel 's house of worship, their temple , s ynagogue, and mo s que. The garbag e dumpst e r's b l atant waste , its abundance of gro s s, disgusting, slimy food, was their nirvana. Cold , half-eaten pi zz a, stale potato chips , soggy be e r-soaked pretzels were salvaged from the depths of the garbage dumpster. The creatures were appeased. They would s tealthily creep along the aspha lt road , crawl through the cracks of th e s tone wall, and slinki l y slide down the landscaped terrace. They would e ven jump from trees to reach the bli s s of the garbage dumpster. I stared out my window at them for hour s . The s mell of that giant bin o' garbage wou l d bother me, yet I was transfixed by these creatures. They hopped and scurried out and about the garbage dumpster. They became acrobat s as th e y salvaged the valuables that the human beings had unknowingly thrown out. The s e were shrewd creatures. They did not let a plastic garbage bag go unripped nor any piece of food uneaten . Their's was an eternal quest. A quest for the s ticky , greasy , disgusting food . Food even a college student would throw away. I became obsessed. Meghan, are you listening to me? " My mother impatiently snapped as we were having our weekly phone chat. " Mom, you shou l d be here right now , there ' s this squirrel , and it ' s carrying a whole piece of pizza . That's amazing. I never knew that squirrels even liked pizza. " It was amazing . I stopped li stening to my mother talk about the m e nial details of her boring exist- ence. Instead , I focused all of my attention on the small animal. It jumped out of the garbage dumpster and ran over th e wall with its prize. They fascinated m e . I found them to be more intere s ting than my roommates or even some of my floormates . Squirre l s were the only living creature that I could stare at for hour s . They had the same motivation , the s ame de s ire: to fill their b e llies with food that was ju s t g ro s s. The motion of their bodies amazed me . I loved h ow th ese s ca ve n gers s udd e nl y jumped out of the garbage dump s t e r , or how they cha s ed each other around the bin it s elf. Or how these creatur es climb e d about a nd throughout smelly garbag e ba gs . I knew for a fact that the girls on my floor would never jump around in smelly garbag e bag s . The se animals were truly astounding. Alas, the irony of fate wa s about to separate the squirrels and me (or so I thought). I was going to have to move. I believed that I would never see these marvelous creatures again. I had tried to consol e myself with th e thought that my ne roommate was intere s tin g , yet in my heart I knew that nothing could ev e r replace my bushy-tailed friend s. What was I going to do with all th e tim e I s udd e nly had now that the squirrels were gone ? I sullenly opened the window of my new room . A few trees stood outside of my window , yet I did not look for my comrades. I had resigned myself to the fact that I would likely never see my furry friends again. I turned toward my d e sk and prepared to do my homework. Yet out of the corner of my eye I suddenly saw a flash of brown fuzz . Could it be? I pinched myself to see if I was dreaming. It was not a dream . The squirrels had followed me. What a fool I had been for thinking that we would be separated. After all we had s hared. We had more than a friendship , we had a bond. Now, as I walk along the path, my little friends follow me . They scurry across my path, look down at me from the trees , even run alongside of me. Once , a squirrel spoke to me in that very special language that only squirrels and some unique human beings can und e rstand. I knew what it was saying, it was saying that I was one of them , not in form or actions, but in spirit. We smiled at each other. Stream of Unconsciousness 7 Embrace the Frog When can we ride the Donkey, mom? Take out the electric donkey finder, son. Can we have lasagna, mom? Take a left at the flaming donkey, son. Where is my face, mom? Your uncle is borrowing it son. Start the frog, son. Embrace the frog, son. Light is dark But dark is clear And seeing is a lie For in the end, Emotions rule - Bryan Walko And darkness slips on by. -Anonymous Ireland-Vanderbilt Castles on land hidden with dark secrets Lingering with sweet statues of people alone with their minds. Freedom and youth play along in the grass Sacred beds showing only slivers of lost love. In dim light such sensuality ignored to produce fine ignorance Streams edged flanked with sights of longing eyes . Waiting through gardens of seductive maroon The shadows of blood hold loosely around flowers Sweet curves in statues held frozen freedom The breath of past and the swift movement of future . - Merrideth Hawk Dragon ~Jaded Vicious Dragpn Hortid sight. Nearby wo.µnd~d- Yaliant Knight. Champion sworn To save the day. Ere the B&ast Should have its way. Wounds are deep Hero in pain Fighting hard Die , not in vain. Battling against Suffering and strife The Knight is you The Dragon ... life \ Battl~ : Cry ---- Jacf~d C>ptimjsm fart For the pursuit of truth I challenge the inner darkness Greatness and fame i do not seek Heart grows weak Though fly astray Horrors and fears Await me there Ready or not Destiny calls Do what is right I test all my might Enjoyment of life the reward Work and strive now Encounter your truth Live life to the fullest Love if you can - Anonymous - Anonymous Growing Up - Jaded Optimism Though I bear the bum mark Dragon Fire though the raking slashes of beasts claws leave scars though my heart is shattered broken apart There is fr edom4 The one I knew is the one I lost The lost one though i s me Fo r whenever lies A brand new choice An old one , never seen - Anonymous My Father on Earth Save him , save his soul. Teach him the ways of love Leave him here with me, don't send him away as a dove He protects me, he cares, he only lacks the init ial thought but opens his mind to listen to my words and wh at I have sought I want to show him my love and deep gra titude He has done so much for me, he has nothing to prove He ha s changed and accepted me as I am He would give up everything to help me, all that he can He is a strong, powerful man of great success. I co uld never be ashamed to hold his hand He cherishes his family and provides for them gre atly. H e deserves to rule over his home an d his land I want us to be close friends again like gems and pearls b ut mostly, I wish him to be well so l can be his little girl - Amanda Liles Stream of Unco n scio u sness 33 1/3 Super Size for only 39 cents Sing a song of six penc e a pocket • full of frogs. Ten little Indians running for gove rnor. Tell me why you can ' t sm other yourself in l ove , that big McDonald's fast food love I ' m the love machine ju s t say " Super Size me. " A man , A woman Dreams . Aman. Shattered. A man , A woman A man alone. - Brian Walko But , which one? -Anonymous Essay on Woman R e n ee Marie I sgro There is a certain reverence that let s little g irl s throw their heads back a nd lau g h while they sw ing higher and hi g her in the sc hoolyard . When th e backyard seems as lar ge as a jungle and the floorboards of the front porch compare to those of a grand ballroom . It enables u s to take compliment - and to trav e l the univ e r se by means of our im agi nation . It i s then , a nd only then , that we are told we h ave the world in th e palm of our little hand . Ther e i s a certain freedom that l e t s teenager s dance around on s id ewa lk s in th e pourin g rain while the wetness s pl as hes th e ir ankles and soaks the bottoms of their jeans. When we feel compelled to danc e around the kitchen , s inging into a s poon every time " th at song' comes on the radio. It is at thi s time that we wrap our unscathed hand s with their painted fingernails around the steering wheel , secure in the knowledge that we have tim e on our side. Ther e is a certain barefootedn ess that let s a young woman plan her marriage to a man s he 's never met. When we are overwhelmed with wonder and change. When we are overwhelmed with wonder and change. It e nable s u s to try to acce pt our co n ce rns gracefully, and n o t to submit to loneline ss. How ever , it i s at this tim e when we feel mo s t like cry ing because , becau se , in the face of adversity, we are blinking. There i s a certain stigma that causes wives to l eave their hu s bands and take their children a nd s l am the door on their way out. When we surrender to fatigue and disappointment. It enables us to develop mock esteem and act irrationally , or perhaps, too reasonable for our own good. It i s now that we want to , ne ed to , rather, sc ream an d run for our lives to the b ackyard , lookin g for what we must have lift on the front porch. So we run faster and try harder - not becau se we have to , but becau se we know we can - all the while remembering them t e lling u s that we hav e th e world in the palm of our littl e h a nd. We run , from whatever has b ee n silencing us to where we a re free to tell our story to the world. And as we are moving we h ear our heart - no , our soul - sc re a min g , yelling , so undin g out loud. And when we finally get to where we want to be , we run down the front porch steps, ope n our mouths - and are s ilent ____ j)) " Reflections for a new year with Bebby ' s band bouncin ' in the background " The end of my first year .. . listen to that crazy bass runnin ' back and forth ... the sax and them brass chase that bass ... the world is good, Mr. Goodman tells me so. The piano and drum men soothe my soul-damn, so much passion, so much passion .. motivation - that is what the last Half of the past year has taught me; along with patience and a soft consciousness of my "self'- although I still be confused at times , I have gained a sort of confidence in my consciousness 1 am myself , as dis- organized as I may seem. A new year awaits ... my motors anxiously but patiently wait. I Know the Way to peace and truth. We need to know ourselves, and if we know our own nature, we can understand others, we can realize a similarity and finally unite. Maybe I am too damned idealist, but it's ideal views and thoughts which eventually lead the masses . Here I come, mass-asses ... shine your bottoms to me so that I may rearrange your priorities I am the American patrol. -Anonymous Aching How I see so many around me. Lifting up toward a forgotten promise. The mistaken flowers yearning discovery divine. Oceans roar and the winds swirl in the eternal confusion pushed aside. The clouds cast my shadows upon meadows to remind the day, it has not yet been fulfilled. So here I lay beneath a tree forsaken Of the shaded prize no one or thing has taken The sacred Music that impels poets to seek The unspoken flickered light in the hearts we keep Aching to drown in our dream's desire This unrevealed gift life's Unquestionable soul's aspire. All life his master's gaze has created submissive desire. Deep beneath the folds in darkness We save in hope to trust our passion our soul's thirsting We reach upon. His Promise I have not yet beheld. Forgotten in life His will passed on -Anonymous Y o u h ad him th e r e H e was a l ways yo ur s An intimat e drop upon P ea rl s of friend s hip Di s tanc e a part Knot to ge th e r - h e was yo ur s Alw ays Just a s troke , se c o nd s in tim e A g iant fallin g , s hakin g th e e arth tow a rd s bitt e r hon es t y and p a inful di s beli e f A s D a vid a nd Goliath But yo u had n ' t th row n th e s t o n e Y o ur mind uncro sse d Slin g l a in s till When the cru s h of th e g round i s lifted A nd th e s c e n e di sso l ve d within Other 's c l e ar , b o rr ow ed he a lin g Be a r s till th e b rui se Tou g h e n e d , t e nd e r F o r y o ur b e lov e d g iant. Let him not fad e, far e w e ll torn Stron g, early te a r s Thi s chapt e r of innocenc e broken. Patch the e rr , Amid your b e in g For this Goliath - D a vid 's Goliath C a n n e v e r fall Within your heart . Rebecca Lynn L a ne L o ve i s an a nta g onizer b e tw e en fri e nd s. - An o n y m o u s Mosaic_S_1996_001 Mosaic_S_1996_002 Mosaic_S_1996_003 Mosaic_S_1996_004 Mosaic_S_1996_005 Mosaic_S_1996_006 Mosaic_S_1996_007 Mosaic_S_1996_008 Mosaic_S_1996_009 Mosaic_S_1996_010 Mosaic_S_1996_011 Mosaic_S_1996_012