Image provided by: Clackamas Community College; Oregon City, OR
About The Clackamas print. (Oregon City, Oregon) 1989-2019 | View Entire Issue (Jan. 22, 1997)
4 Poets’ Corner The Clackamas Print Wednesday, January 22,1997 LWT by Joshua* Carlsen by Jamie Nickila Wilted death from doorstep's window Silent whispers of fragile beauty Token of a fallen heart go to H f ‘ m inside the eries A stem so brutal A light so small Hear feel ' ;W touch • the smoldering heart Presence is the rose's breath Colors of pure velvet Pouring into the soul Sorrows fall like rain Pain squeezing through the peak Cure the hurt Stop the blood Open the door Let in the light RED LION CRYING for Megan Shellfish by Amy Pattison by Amy Pattison light blue threads sown together in my mind unweaving over the years pulled, whipped, stepped on loved to shreds, never changing expression toward me. the silk binding that once surrounded its soft, blue, loved. comers rubbed, touched, played with loved to shreds, dissolve in the air as memories to threads. thread by thread unravel with each worn hole it shreds. the white thread that held it together has broken free, the innocence escaped CAK you HEAR WE? Various travels tonight we will make, us three. Rooms full of tie-dye incense and handcrafted plates, porcelain made and brushed with paint. A naked man straddles a bike. We honk for acknowledgment because "Everybody Hurts." < q Naked he rides, as if to sea. A stolen, pink, candy-dipped, rose, rests on the blue dash. Thank you, Grandma Goose. Tonight the Red Lion cries, tears that drown us, as if water thrown from a glass. Saying goodbye, the words travel to sea, said by each of us three. thrown away by one loved by another the threads of my childhood held together. Perhaps you hear them while you drink champagne and look toward the sky and see us two, in a Supernova. the touch and sight of instant comfort. But she forgot to ask if he liked his cigar! I'll ask him for you. Night air is sp brittle ■ that my shaped7 hand breaks it apart with one subtle motion. In one lifeless'second ’ your soul emits a shooting star ’ streaking across the sky One solitary fiery life emanates your passionate love. My gaze drifts along your body; white chocolate skin, • long, delicate legs connect where love is purest, heavenly breast so soft and tender, compassionate, thin arms that have wrapped me • many times over, your face bearing innocence with those eyes... eyes so beautiful my heart would rnelf with but one look. As I awake black death lines parallel each other along a twisting road. Fate has made you its canvas. Your face, now timeless, covered by mosaic — ' glistening glass-shards, twisted metal pieces, deep, rich blood,, |j|r Destiny’s selfish artery I look back, deep into night, ;. your shooting star racing life. My cold hand breakingapart air as my finger traces your soul into eternity Poetry was submitted by Diane Averill’s fall term poetry class. Submissions of poetry and essays to the next edition of the new, quarterly literary corner of The Clackamas Print should be sent to Cindy Hines Kurfman, copy editor, by 1 p.m. on Friday, March 7.
