The Clackamas print., March 12, 2014, Page 4, Image 4

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Wednesday,Marchl2,2014_______ __________________ ______________________ £___________
P R IN T : Special Section
Fall term The Print invited Clackamas Community College student body to submit creative works for a writing contest. Entries were categorized by poetry and
flash fiction (201 - 400,words). The entries in each category have been evaluated and 1st place awarded. We here at The Print wish to thank everyone for their
subm issions and re-print the entries here for your enjoyment. In addition, the first place winners of each category will also be reprinted in the CCC Writers’ Club
annual book*
SheEnjoysDestruction
~A.E.
^•FOREVER FORWARD '
~ Joe Ballard
No one makes you fight in these ■
somewhere across the sky,
trenches, with esprit de corps. H
We jump from planes, with our
, They must die for their country, not
thoughts <?n the mission.
you for yours.
No thoughts of dying or nervous
/B u ty o u volunteered to sleep in this B
positions,
hole.
Calm envelope’s these men that fly. ,
The danger of this place is real. ;
Death in this place lives.
Keeping traditions of ages past,
■Protecting innocent souls to the last,
Falls now to our youngest
generations of kids.
Hate we constantly feel. Love we
- don’t
This desert is evil to your mind,
Endurance itself, isn’t enough to y
survive.
■You can try to understand it but you
won’t.
Shadows o f violence cover the locals.
Shadows of despair cover us all.
y Steel-rain travels miles, seeking
people to free.
You wouldn’t believe how quiet1 very
loud’ can be.
Feeling destruction’s fire is
, awakening most of all. 1
In an instant things can be better.
In a flash hope Can begin.
I Everything changes with one letter
from you,
L A simple line o f encouragement or
a few. ' .
T hink that power you have with >
- that mighty pen /
Oblivious of time. Num b to reality
it seems.
Lining up the sights and hearing.
your heart race,,.
It’s just a dog-target you think, as
sweat pours down your face.
The end o f someone by any means.
Somewhere across the ocean,
The Great Blue Heron
~ Nathaniel Flying Owl
Sunlight sparkles on the surface
O f the lake and the verdant leaves
O f the surrounding conifers
Lightly shudder in a soft breeze
A heron stands near the shore
Waiting calmly among the reeds
W ith an exceptional patience
The heron at last takes a fish
And with great haste devours it
For yet another few minutes
He remains still and statuesque
Before lifting off into flight
A brief image of the city,
A cold world of steel, cracked concrete
And power-hungry decadence,
Quickly flashes .within my mind
Where humanity prompdy learns
To overlook its own soul
I observe the great blue heron
As he flies into the distance
His wingbeats graceful, archaic
And genuine.serenity
Lingers here like a mist with me
Beside the lake, kissed by the breeze
/
Listen: this isn’t pettiness. And it H
isn’t sympathy, my friend
H
You must remember that blood got ■
us here.
It was hard. It was nasty. It was I
beyond fear.
So the next time you see them say, jj
‘Happy Veterans D ay... Again.’ H
^Ultimatesacrifice^orultimateeoal?
Soul Syntax
~ Spencer Patterson
A word written on a page is nothing
But a collection of runes
In a set order and pair.
When one speaks, one describes an idea,
Which then attaches itself at the ankle of
Reality like the proverbial ball and chain.
There is no magic in “PHRASE,”
O r in “ARTWORK,”
O r in “SYMPHONY,” no.
The rules that define the
Ways we read or write are arbitrary
And completely incorporeal.
The only reason words exist
Is 'to feed the insatiability of the
Perpetually anxious creed of man.
It is the spoken word that connects us,
And the written word that fastens us
To one particular sense o f self.
Languages bind the identities of
Man the creature and Man the machine
Into one in our minds, separate from fact.
Too bad the word “SELF” is written in
Such ridged, restrictive verse;
O r we might come to know that there is
more than one way to write our names. ’
She enjoys destruction.
Building up structures
Higher and higher,
§ Only to watch it all
Crash down around her
I She enjoys destruction.
| Whispering words
O f sickly sweet nectar,
| Lies upon lies
I Soon your soul will be
| rotten
r She enjoys destruction
I Pulling the puppet strings
| Tighter and tighter,
I Choking all life off and
Leaving you blue in the, face
I She enjoys destruction.
I Acting coquettishly,
Playing your heartstrings
I and
I Giving youlove
I Only 'to pull it away
| She enjoys destruction.
Feeding you all that
You want to hear,
Speaking o f futures that
She never plans for
She enjoys destruction.
Playing the shy card or
Blatandy lying,
Cajoling and cuddling and
Basically being your mate,
but
She enjoys destruction
She won’t ever listen
Her heart is of stone
All love is a game
O r that’s what she thought,
Because
She enjoyed destruction.
Until she met someone who
Became her soul mate,
Someone perfect and lovely
but
O f course she threw it away
She enjoys destruction.
But not this timé.