The Charles Viewer Fisher College, 1999 Reference For room from this Not to be taken FisherCollegeLibrai 3 5620 50550945 9 The Charles Viewer Literature and Artwork by the Students ofFisher College, 1999 Editor-in-Chief 3'7S • 7 <“D ^ Talia Whyte £.2 Photographers Talia Whyte and Nelia Ulysse Artists Dally Irizarry P.3 Qi Chen P. 6 Keith Langsdorf P. 33 Farah Leveque Rear Cover Faculty Readers John Martino Allyson Stanford Marilyn Nelson Michael Knoll Faculty Advisor Michael Knoll The 1999 edition ofThe Charles Viewer represents the work ofstudents from the Day and Continuing Education divisions ofFisher College. In assembling this magazine, we sought materials, which represent a diverse variety ofthemes. For their assistance and support we would like to thank the following: Christian Fisher, President; Dr. Maureen Evans, Vice President ofAcademic Affairs; Dr. Charles Perkins, Associate Dean ofAcademic Affairs; Marjorie Roy, Assistant Dean of Academic Affairs; Dr. Dean Walton, Liberal Arts Program Director; and Gail Murphy, with a special thanks to Martha Scott and John Martino and his Pentax camera. Why Write I Writing is a secret Passion ofmine A way for me to let out Everything on my mind A way to express My heartache and bad times 1 tell the world In riddles and rhymes -Ebony Rentas . Warm Misconception Deep dark eyes grill heavy on my face As I am opposite ofhim, in the passenger seat Twinkle ofa star at a closer look is a blazing fire ball 1 reach with hands ofice for touch Burns ripple to the core ofmy heart Wanting to understand, my eyes keep glaring Where did the white glimmer go? The voice roars the answer Crimson, orange is a fire Confused, this is red and blue I think I almost get it now, my light flickers Wrong! I was too quick to presume A swooning, swirling volcano becomes my mind Oh, blue is hot, red is cold Misinterpretations, our guiding light We spit like dragons Choking or the gases, gasping for an understanding ofhim Struck by yet another discovery As the common ground from beneath slips out We are offoreign planets I now see a falling star Once the stars, a still, silent, serene sight Now blinding with feisty fires, scorching my eyes Bitter humor, knowingly aiming bull’s eye Is there a reflection in my eyes he fears seeing? Caustic apologies for moody identity Is this a revelation or has my elevation ofhim faltered Lava light lures little hearts falsely Feeding it’s fire, I dispense more fuel, fighting This flame can continue to either batter or flatter Star-stuck, I leave his cold car, image shattered The further I would’ve stayed, l The fonder the illumination ofhis face Wanting to go back to that sight ofa nebula so far Grieve I I lived your book oflife Sharing in laughter, wiping your tears As I reach the final chapter It’s the uninvited that I fear. Innocent eyes warmed my heart Your gentle spirit touched my soul As I near the final page I look back long ago. From your wary first steps To that long final race You lived your life fully Accepting all with your faith So much reminds me ofyou I grieve from dusk ‘til dawn As tears flow from swollen eyes I’m still loving what has gone. This final page awaits its turn How will this story end An empty page with empty hearts Or healing words that mend? Although life carries on I grieve, I grieve each day It’s still so hard to move on Beyond our final page. -Lynette McAllister Light Turning to Darkness I can only explain it as a supernatural experience. I awake one early morning in the enchanted forest, my eyes sensitive to the rising sun. I absorb the beauty ofmy surroundings like a cup ofJava, which puts resilience into my eyelids. The crisp breeze gently fondles my hair and stings my exposed skin. I am quickly overwhelmed by the immense beauty, so 1 focus on a solitary leaf, and stare at the multitude ofcolors. Blotted with crimson, orange, and green, the leafclings tentatively to the naked branch. I gaze at the sun’s rays beating down upon the leaf. The rhythmic flicker oflight relaxes me into a hypnotic stare. I fall prey to the quickening ofmy soul. Time, the thiefoflight, arrives quietly and I stand alone in darkness. The stars are guiding light to the heart ofthe forest. I see tall, short, slender and thick trees holding onto the leaves that once were so colorful, but are now obscure silhouettes. The moonlight gently glows upon the leaves boasting their stunning color spectrum and perfect shape. I look at a small star-lit area and wish a shadow would float through this My A stunning array. wish is granted instantaneously! crimson and yellow flush, once a shadow, is now a delightful parade ofcolors. I savor every wonderful moment and deem this leafs death significant. I observe the intense ceremony, the leaves dancing in the moonlight. They swing side to side as the gentle breeze caresses every curve. This enjoyment offreedom ceases as the leaves fall among the debris. My eyes are distracted from this morbidity by the rebirth ofthe sun. Once again, a multitude ofcolors are seen with my weary eyes. Each painted leafsparkles with a sheet ofdew. Droplets grip their branches, then plunge to the earth with a tiny splash. I walk with spirit away from the heart ofthe enchanted forest, the beat fades and a dull roar echoes within me. My feet feel heavy as I take my final step into the mouth ofthe city. -Lynette McAllister Shine She loves the summer, I want to be her sun Keeping her warm and making her hot, She will relax as I shine. I want to drink pink lemonade with you, At a snack bar, Under an umbrella. On a picnic table. Where we can still smell the ocean. I want to shine on you until I set. The moon will keep you safe at night while you sleep, And I will see you in the morning when I rise. -Writer Unknown When The Seams Are Ripped Apart stitching runs rampant upon hollow eyelets and a entwined foot falls in streamlined flutters-declared lame without the archaic rites -it has all for the very purpose of madness become -obstructed the tiny button popped halfway -through the way out an the disintegrating has -begun its futile clawing at the head, -a battery ofher unstrung hinges has become -futile withjerked straining at remaining whole -what with a hole at the end ofthe leg -makes it very quiet like in an easy way to -come undone, maybe the left arm which encircles -the bed post can fall away in an unfamiliar -fashion, so the instinctual retching ofthe armless shoulder has calmed, rests in a better kind ofsleep if you will as ratted treads fall upon the pillows looks to you like a stray eyelash ofthe last one by again you know better than to let the illusion rule, the tightly woven corset worn like armor is restingjauntily -slightly askew -tearing raving mad lust lunatic lays into the past upholding the romantic notions ofher make believe world, the laces this time fly a little more fevered and you distinctly see the slight wisp ofunnoticed smoke as the laces make their raving rounds through the eyelets ofthe corset, he ends up pulling all the seams apart delicate as veins all that is there left inside ofthe corpse of unraveled rags are bugs clattering around sounding like rusty tambourines -he lies the body on the bed and climbs inside through holes which now tattered treads had held and pulls the front somatic shift over himself -stays there in the empty shell until the sun comes up and it is time for him to go home as the twilight fades and the hollows shell crumbles her seems now ripped apart. -Brook Gillespie The broken watch Reminds me ofthe time 1 have left behind IfI could only show you What I see now: The radiant sky Speaking on the phone Familiar sounds behind your voice; I’m so far from home Nozomi Tanabe