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