Image provided by: Clackamas Community College; Oregon City, OR
About The print. (Oregon City, Oregon) 1977-1989 | View Entire Issue (May 27, 1987)
SPRING 1987 Vol. VINo.l A Potpourri of The Arts Untitled” “The Rose” Your love is like a rose Deceiving in looks and fragrance. You charm me with your beauty And flatter me with your smell of love. But when I reach out to you You prick my heart “Friends” You leave me to bleed on my own To heal my own wounds. Often I've thought Of you and I. Together laughing, Together crying. It never could cease Those painful tears That blaze in your eyes Whenever I'd hurt you. I've had more than my Share of chances with you. Yet they're all Vanished from reality. What else can I say or do To someone that has loved More than I showed My love for them, Hopefully, be their friend. Well now the rose is dying The petals fall one by one. Just like the blood streaked tears Trickling down my face. All that is left is a thorny stem Waiting to see if the sun will rise once more And always remembering, remembering. Cindi Hanback Steve Luper “A Guy I Know” He works in a restaurant, suppressing his ideas Working below his skills, to make a simple buck Living from paycheck to paycheck, saying "I'll quit tomorrow" But tomorrow never comes. He knows he can do better, and find more pay He can't hide from the bills anymore Says he's doing his best, they have him cornered Now what can he do? When Friday rolls around, he parties with the best Never uses his own money and he never says no Runs up his VISA limit, then cries 'cause he don't Cot nobody to hold. Sometimes he goes to the waterfront To watch the sailboats, always wishes he had one Dreams of traveling all over the world But knows he won't “Sailing Dreams, Sharing Hopes” Please kite, teach me to fly’ Give me a chance, let me try. Clinging to your flowing tail, I feel I could never fail. If perhaps I should fall, I'll have the memories to recall. If perchance I learn to fly, I'll not try to reason why. My days among the clouds I'd spend. And hope that it would never end. lulia Singer The high school kids come and go They all found something better to do But there he is waiting on tables Talking to his regulars. He sees his face in the mirror One more wrinkle, a little less hair Hears your voice in his mind, thinks of all the things He should have said. He wonders why no one touches him like you did Wonders why you're not here anymore He can't see you got tired of it all And decided to go. Renada Anderson centimeters SN: OL0055 Colors by Munsell Color Services Lab Two trees grown together, With roots intertwined To withstand the weather. To find Where they begin and end, A curious fate will tear a rend. To test the strength of each alone. Of branches stumped and branches grown. Robert Graham "BlrtterfZies Must Die” One by one; they hatch Nature is waiting again. Waiting for the birth Of something new'. A strand of silk Starts to transform Someting new into Another gift of life. Anticipation of each day Makes the time freeze. Cold surrounds the construction Of carefully woven thread. Time decreases to A minute size; Only to envelop itself Inside the cocoon. Silence is heard for The last time. Struggling wings peek out As if looking for The afterlife. With a final shove The butterfly emerges From its dead life of Crawling to begin a colorful Life of carefree flying. But only for a new life Is another death expected For everyone knows that Butterflies must die. Steve Luper