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1 Lilac Lane
By Sarah Snee 1 Lilac Lane On my first and last day of housekeeping for the Richardsons’ large and looming estate, the flowers began to talk to me. I was, by all opinion, horribly naive. The estate, in its entirety, was spotless. There were whispers all over town as the sleek black Audi rolled through the streets, its reflection in each shop window catching the attention of every passerby, although there didn’t seem to be an eye that wasn’t glued to the back of the car. There was no license plate. I worked at an ice-cream shop on Ginger Street. A scoop of chocolate-chip-cookie-dough plopped onto the floor as I…
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Drink Me
by Jianna Palladini In both The Mortal Immortal, by Mary Shelley, and Tristan and Iseult, the famous Celtic legend, characters learn the consequences of abusing magical potions that promise them what they imagined to be a long-desired love. Though written centuries apart, common themes can be found in both stories and in English literature in general, such as love, magic, and tragedy. Both narratives help audiences ponder the thought that, perhaps, an unfavorable reality is better than we interpret it to be, as meddling with destiny may lead to disaster. Magic potions, specifically, have been a common literary element throughout history. In Alice in Wonderland, Alice drinks the magical potions…
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Dead Eyes See Dead Stars
Dead Eyes See Dead Stars by Matthew Brothers Cylinder of sound rotating around, ears hear voices from the ground. Crawling about below, what they do no one can know. When the sounds surround, the decayed will run, scream, and cry. Those reactions given to the realization, and the three are shared across the nation. This moment of sound, when the skulls look around, they all learn what they are- the bones of those perished so far. They can move, their senses active, however, their sight- what they see is not attractive. Their sight blinded, their hope bound -to despair. Blindly trying to dig to the top, reach the starry sky.…
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Flicker
By Matthew Brothers Lights flick on, lights flick off. Lights flick on, lights flick off. In the dark, creatures dwell, can’t you tell? So, don’t turn out the light. Unless you want to be plunged into that chaotic night, don’t ever turn out a light. If you heeded my word, you can read this warning well, you’ll be ok, so long as you remember. Keep the generator running; the electricity can’t run still. In light, you’re safe. In dark, meet your grisly fate. There’s a line between the horizon of safety and demise. It’s a clear switch when light enters and exits. But when lights flicker, what happens? Will…
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Rock Through Finals Week With Positivity!
Finals week can be tough, but Ronald McNerney’s poster serves as an uplifting reminder to us all that “We can do it!”.
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SOMEONE ELSE
by Anna G. Potter Dear sorrow, dear last swallow of coffee, dear folded-up longing, dear late-evening fog, I am supposed to write a letter with something important to say to someone else. Someone else. Dear someone else, dear other being, dear alternate life, dear what’s-his-name, dear story-bearer, I am supposed to say something important about you, me, this brief lapse of time. Time. Dear time, dear spiraling-dead leaves, dear autumn, dear spring, dear ever-healing-wound, dear gap, I am supposed to let you pass with measured optimism, but you crash and collapse into free verse. Free verse. Dear wilted metaphor, dear upside-down simile, dear sideways symbol, Dear everything-has-meaning-if-you-look-hard-enough, I am supposed…
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Bust of Maria Barberini Duglioli
Marble is cold, Unforgiving material mocking the sculptor But your eyes, though blank, bear softness. Spider webs lace your collar, contrasting sharp Round beads collecting at the neck. Not in your Blood to be gentle, you, queen command Attention among whittled down features. Your fragile beauty speaks more than cold should. By Jenna Moses
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Sestima for Future Thought
Sestima for Future Thought By Jenna Moses If our world has survived boiling down to nothing, Through our drawn-out years of wasting and decay My hope is that you are well and alive. A great-great-great-grandchild so far ahead That you are much less than a memory to me, And I, likely the same, to you. It is not frequent, my thinking of you, For the things I know are slim to nothing. But I could guess the same in your idea of me: One full of rot and decay, Less about a young girl in your shoes, with journey ahead, More of Grim Reaper, heaven, or spirit, than alive. But…
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To Wrinkle
by Jenna Moses To Wrinkle is to create a fold, cause some thing to be imperfect in appearance, in stature, in grace. A blemish on the otherwise smooth face of a woman whose tired eyes cry lines through her cheeks, across her forehead, slither down to decrepit hands that grip desperate onto life but cannot stop the hiss of years wringing out like sheets on a windy day. Life becomes a flat line, which doesn’t look so flat pressed against skin. It is soft, speckled, requesting an iron be taken to perfect the folds.
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RockOut’s celebration of Acceptance Day & Halloween Haikus
During LGBTQ+ History Month, on Thursday, October 24th, 2019, RockScissorsPaper participated in RockOut’s celebration of Acceptance Day. During common hour, an array of clubs and organizations gathered in the quad to show their support for the LGBTQ+ community. We had a booth to show our support and to engage with the campus community through a writing activity. We had people write their own haikus using spooky-themed words as inspiration. A haiku is a traditional Japanese poem that consists of three lines. The first line has five syllables, the second line has seven syllables, and the last line has five syllables. The RSP staff read through all of the haikus and…
