Byways CTC Journal of Art & Letters

Spring 2002

Student Editorial Board Nathaniel Burns, Zakiyyah Danquah, Darlene Moore,

Elizabeth Spencer, and Rachelle Woodall

Cover Art Mary Harris

"Morning Mist"

Faculty Advisor and Layout Melissa Richardson

Communications Department

Faculty Art Advisor Dr. Wynona Alexander Fine Arts Department

Table of Contents Table of Con1

PATRICIA LYNN GARCIA Road to Hollywood 5 MARKA. DAVIS c Sweet Dreams 6 A Poem 7 CONNIE KOSKI 1 Soldiers 8 A Sense of War 9 ADRIAN JACKSON v

ROBBIE HALL Lonely Heart Breaker 10 NARSHONNA TOWNES l\ c

KRYSTA MCKELVY Chances 11

EMMANUEL VOMVAS f JEFF BELDING Double Image 13 lV

MELISSA LEDGERWOOD The Eyes 14 D.H.MOORE "' "' RACHELLE WOODALL A Memory of Sight 15 N Solitary Sea 16

VI

JACK COULSTON I Still Sit Alone 17 ZAKIYYAH DANQUAH c. Fate Has No Power 18

& Midnight Scavengers 19 H

JAMES C. TUCKER Celtic Indian Legend 20 ANGELA ROMERO B<

VERONICA COBURN Sacrifice 21 ART CONNOR Li Prelude to Significance 22

Tl Hue 23 Waking 24 KIM ROWAN E'

YUMINOH Pampass Wind 25 MARY HARRIS Ct

CONNIE KOSKI Branching Out 26 JERRY DON OSBORNE Be

YANITZA LARROY A Tear 27 DEANNE FRANKLIN Th

VICKI JOHNSON Who Believes in Love? 28 LiJ

KAT COTTER Dr JOHN WEBSTER A Late Night Haiku #2 29

The Squash Poem 29 LAMAR MCGUIRE III Lo The Hero in My Head 30

JEFF BELDING Re

2 3

Table of Contents (cont.)

MARK A. DAVIS Corpus Nights 31

CONNIE KOSKI Thirst for Life 32

ADRIAN JACKSON WhoiAm 33

NARSHONNA TOWNES My Sunshine 35 Oxymoron 36

EMMANUEL VOMVAS Her Future 37 Metal Swirl 38

D.H.MOORE Wind 39 What Have You Done to Make a Difference? 40 Weeping Women 41

ZAKIYYAH DANQUAH C.B. Love 42 Represent 42 Hand 43

ANGELA ROMERO Baby in Blue 44

ART CONNOR Life 45 The Gift 46

KIM ROWAN Evasive Soul 48

MARY HARRIS Cu Cullen (The Last One) 49

JERRY DON OSBORNE Bertram Tower 50

DEANNE FRANKLIN The Dance 51 Life 52

KAT COTTER Dream 53

LAMAR MCGUIRE III Lost Sister 54

JEFF BELDING Reflections of Myself 55

3

------------------......

Table of Contents (cont.) Patricia :

ANGELA ROMERO Hosepipe 56 Road to

CAT HIGH Dyslexia 57 Barbie Syndrome 58 Casualty of Men 59 Child's Dream 6o

JAMES TUCKER Shimmering Reflections 61

YASMIN NIEVES Cowboy 62

CRYSTAL BRADFORD I See a Cowboy 63 The Best Things in Life 64 My Dream 65

4

Patricia Lynn Garcia

Road to Hollywood

5

Patricia Lynn Garcia

Sweet Dreams

6

Patricia LYJ

A Pot

Sometimes a poem can Like the smell of a fresh red ro

As words run warm with One can smell the beautiful sc

The words and smells could Poems are so mw

Sometimes a poem can Like the many minutes the sun

As words walk wit One could watch the bright color

The lengthy and boring embr Poems are so much likt

Sometimes a poem car Like the creepy feelings you get w

Sneaky words creep silently tow. Almost like the sounds of an unseen

The fear of a good story is s Poems are so much like ft

A poem is a poem for s They are like the hopes and drear

Nobody ever so bold ct The power of many words ir

A poem is a poem ... A poem can only be judged '

7

Patricia Lynn Garcia

A Poem

Sometimes a poem can be short and sweet, Like the smell of a fresh red rose in the cool spring breeze.

As words run warm with compassion and heart, One can smell the beautiful scent of Mother Nature's art.

The words and smells could last for seconds or hours. Poems are so much like flowers.

Sometimes a poem can be long and boring, Like the many minutes the sun takes to rise in the morning.

As words walk with relaxed pace, One could watch the bright colors and morning they embrace.

The lengthy and boring embrace could be full of might. Poems are so much like newborn sunlight.

Sometimes a poem can be dark and scary, Like the creepy feelings you get when in a room black and eerie.

Sneaky words creep silently toward your unsuspecting mind, Almost like the sounds of an unseen bat that makes you want to hide.

The fear of a good story is sometimes so welcomed, Poems are so much like fear. .. Overwhelming ...

A poem is a poem for sure and whenever. They are like the hopes and dreams of a soul; they last forever.

Nobody ever so bold could fail to behold, The power of many words in a well thought out row.

A poem is a poem ... A poem is fun ... A poem can only be judged when the reader is done.

7

~~tricia Lynn Garcia

Soldiers

A new war? An old war? They're all the same to me.

Death and destruction .. . Chaos and catastrophe .. .

It's something many people have seen. War is like living in a nightmare. It raises the hair on your back.

When and where is the next attack? Yet, soldiers stride into it with a sort of grace.

They hold their heads high and wipe fear from their face. They lay their lives down for the country ...

The land of freedom that we embrace. They fight for our frights, our freedoms, our lives .. . Against those who are so ready to take them away .. .

We never realize the full impact of war. We always believe that our men and women will come home.

The fact is that not all of them will. So, this poem is for you written here.

All soldiers ... All men and women of war. Your country stands tall and proud.

Thank you.

8

Patricia 1

A Sen:

I have seer Fast from the b

Into bui,

I have : The most I

It consu

I have hem Falling from tl

Screaming

I have smell Flames from a ta

Smoke bill•

I have tas Sweet with all tl

We will '

Patricia Lynn Garcia

A Sense of War

I have seen planes crash, Fast from the bright day time sky.

Into buildings tall ...

I have felt anger. The most I have ever had.

It consumes us all.

I have heard bombs too, Falling from the dark night sky.

Screaming with terror. ..

I have smelled the smoke. Flames from a tank's brake system ...

Smoke billows sky high.

I have tasted PRIDE. Sweet with all the nation's kind ...

We will overcome.

9

Robbie Hall

Lonely Heart Breaker

You and me want to be but now I see it's only me I tend to think of you during the night but in the day it's out of sight you act like you don't want me i guess it's cause you're lonely you didn't say it in words you didn't write it on paper your face gave it away just like a vapor If your heart is broken once again I will wait and be a friend The time will come for us to see if it was meant for you and me

10

Krysta 1

Cha

You took a chance And expressed the wa You felt about me. That was courage.

You took a chance And stood your groun Against the world for 1

That was bravery.

You took a chance And left all you knew And loved for me. That was loyalty.

You took a chance And poured your emo1 Out for me to see. That was heart.

You took a chance And stayed just to Get to know me better That was kind.

You took a chance And showed me that You could hand me thE That was priceless.

You took a chance And showed me you Wanted to listen to me That was concern.

1]

Krysta McKelvy

Chances

You took a chance And expressed the way You felt about me. That was courage.

You took a chance And stood your ground Against the world for me. That was bravery.

You took a chance And left all you knew And loved for me. That was loyalty.

You took a chance And poured your emotions Out for me to see. That was heart.

You took a chance And stayed just to Get to know me better. That was kind.

You took a chance And showed me that You could hand me the world. That was priceless.

You took a chance And showed me you Wanted to listen to me. That was concern.

11

Krysta McKelvy

Chances (cont.)

You took a chance And let me have A place in your heart. That was happiness.

You took a chance And told me that you Refused to let me go. That was desperation

You took a chance And showed me the meanings Of expressing yourself with emotion. That was sensitivity.

You took a chance In showing me many things That can be summed up in one word. That is love.

12

Jeff I

Doubl

1;

Jeff Belding

Double Image

13

Melissa Ledgerwood

The Eyes

14

Rachelle

AMemor

Watching a glancing 1

'first to then to tl

anxious an flickers<

filled with The colors sw

And the momE locked forever ir

what you v with ym

15

Rachelle Woodall

A Memory of Sight

Watching and waiting, glancing patiently,

'first to the left, then to the right,

anxious and excited, flickers of hope,

filled with surprise. The colors swirl endlessly,

And the moment passes by, locked forever in your memory,

what you witnessed, with your eyes.

15

Rachelle Woodall

Solitary Sea

The full moon illuminates the

rickety boardwalk leading to the sugary sands

Wind swayed the palm tree fronds and gentle waves lapped the land

hypnotically pulling a solitary girl towards

the peaceful sea The salty air blew her hair

as the icy water swirled at her feet.

The full moon shone down upon

the sugar sands and inky black waters

basking them in its cold clean white light shimmering off the gentle waves and

washing away the night a last trace of solitary

footprints disappears into the ever calming sea.

16

Jack

I Still

Dawn c:

The SUI

A flow Wind be:

I si· Tom)

Perhaps there Who I car

Thew A flo,

The su Dusk fi J

Chang In ev• Allb

I still s

1

Jack Coulston

I Still Sit Alone

Dawn approaches, The sun will show, A flower blooms,

Wind begins t'o blow. I sit alone,

To myself I say, Perhaps there will be someone,

Who I can sit by today. The wind fades, A flower dies,

The sun has set, Dusk fills the sky. l

, Changes occur, In every tone, All but one,

I still sit alone ...

17

Jack Coulston

Fate Has No Power

Fate has no power, My soul is free,

Stronger than its grasp, Fate cannot hold me.

Whatever fate has in store, For the years ahead,

I can destroy in an instant, Decisions are useless when dead.

I can drain my life, Cease my breath,

Ruin Fate's decisions, A process labeled death. Though easy and quick,

Courage leaves me, Still alive and realize, Fate indeed holds me.

18

Jack(

Midnight

Jack Coulston

Midnight Scavengers

19

James C. Tucker

Celtic Indian Legend

20

Veroni

Shadows enshroud, Black as the lacy Death veil. Suddenly­Reaching and dippil Grasping a last brea Silently-Hiding pain with Sweet smiles of bloo Quietly-Shining light With oil-slicked hue, Rose, Violet, Crimso A short-lived blush c Temporal beauty. Standing straight. Now wilting. Noiselessly dying. To be replaced With a new bouquet. Beauty-Cut Down In Its Prime.

r

"'

Veronica Coburn

Sacrifice

Shadows enshroud, Black as the lacy Death veil. Suddenly-Reaching and dipping low Grasping a last breath. Silently-Hiding pain with Sweet smiles of bloom. Quietly-Shining light With oil-slicked hues of Rose, Violet, Crimson. A short-lived blush of Temporal beauty. Standing straight. Now wilting. Noiselessly dying. To be replaced With a new bouquet. Beauty-Cut Down In Its Prime.

21

Veronica Coburn

Prelude to Significance

Silver strands frame Her face - mark her; Tell of time's Savage stroll.

Unwanted wrinkles, Looming liver Spots; recent reminders Of done days.

Where did they go, those Fleeting flowers? Were they Truly graced with Grand importance?

Still there is time To remedy - to Finally appreciate Her life.

22

Veroni<

I

Breathtaking purple( Lavendar crepe myrt· Sweet smells of sprin

Vertical slabs Of deep violet Topped with light And delicacy.

Hot purple lights Overpowering the dar The velvety blackness

Blues and pinks Grace the morning sk; Intermingling. Formi New hue.

23

l Coburn

:;ignificance

ers

LlOSe

ere they

22

Veronica Coburn

Hue

Breathtaking purpled bluebonnets Lavendar crepe myrtles Sweet smells of springtime.

Vertical slabs Of deep violet Topped with light And delicacy.

Hot purple lights Overpowering the darkness -The velvety blackness.

Blues and pinks Grace the morning sky Intermingling. Forming a brilliant New hue.

23

Veronica Coburn

Waking

Light through still Closed lids. Remnants of dream worlds Flittering beyond grasp like Butterflies.

Suddenly cognizant of Twitter, warble, chirp. The serenade of volunteer Music makers Songs sung for my Satisfaction, Heard through open windows.

Stretch, turn, roll. Moments more of peaceful Slumber before leaving My snug coccoon of covers.

Now embarking on a new Gift from God.

24

Pam]

:a Coburn

iking

1 still

dream worlds rond grasp like

~nizant of )le, chirp. ~ of volunteer ~s

'or my

gh open windows.

t, roll. ore of peaceful ·ore leaving :coon of covers.

king on a new Jd.

24

YuminOh

Pam pass Wind

25

Connie Koski

Branching Out

26

Yanit

I sat here in my roc and the falling of t1

what has hapr The world that we t

A place that we c; comfort, W<

Taken short l So manyte

from those of of those who sl

Inr The word that eats ;

That is wl: Inn•

It's all over the news, a city that has l

that was quiet, "' Those words keep

like a drum a How can anyone do I felt something hot,

It's ; A tear for every soul that

A tear that coulC a tear for ;

2 '

~Koski

Ling Out

26

Yanitza Larroy

A Tear

I sat here in my room after all the bombing and the falling of the buildings, wondering

what has happened to the world. The world that we thought was a safe place.

A place that we called home, a place of comfort, warmth and love.

Taken short under one breath. So many tears have fallen

from those of innocent people, of those who shouldn't have died.

Innocent. The word that eats at you, cries out to you.

That is what you call it. Innocence.

It's all over the news, lives that have been lost, a city that has been broken, a life

that was quiet, was no longer there. Those words keep repeating in my head

like a drum against the tomb. How can anyone do such a horrible thing? I felt something hot, warm upon my cheek.

It's a tear. A tear for every soul that is beneath all that rubble.

A tear that could have been saved, a tear for all the pain.

27

Vicki Johnson

Who Believes in Love?

Good morning Mr. Hero Who has the drug today? And who's gonna teach the children That there is a better way Than looking for simple pleasures Found in superficial ways One night stands and cheap demands Who believes in love anymore?

Like the earth beneath your feet Where is the strength in man? And who cares to listen That nature has a better plan We've got to wake up And understand the truth The power is beyond our control to sell our very soul Who believes in love anymore?

28

I see that boy

ALate!'-

Youha Now is the

Soon i1

The Sc

I see that boy by the side o Along the Highway of Life He, selling his squash out c "Little boy," I ask the waif, The little boy smiles He extends his hand, a dirt Ah! Now I see I see that you have taken rn Alas! Why did I not see bey Why did I not see the evil Y' Have at you fiend! Surrender my soul! I have power over you, I now know your name! Baalzeebub! Baalzeebub! Baalzeebub! I charge you by all that is The Universal Order Surrender that soul which I Squash, ten cents each.

i Johnson

!lieves in Love?

·.Hero today? teach the children terway :imple pleasures ial ways and cheap demands 1ve anymore?

teath your feet 1gth in man? listen better plan !Up

he truth md our control to sell our very soul )Ve anymore?

28

John Webster

A Late Night Haiku #2

You have just begun Now is the dawn of your life

Soon it will be dusk

The Squash Poem

I see that boy I see that boy by the side of the road Along the Highway of Life He, selling his squash out of an old shopping cart "Little boy," I ask the waif, "where are your parents?" The little boy smiles He extends his hand, a dirty squash inside Ah! Now I see I see that you have taken my soul Alas! Why did I not see beyond that impish grin Why did I not see the evil you hold within your hand! Have at you fiend! Surrender my soul! I have power over you, I now know your name! Baalzeebub! Baalzeebub! Baalzeebub! I charge you by all that is The Universal Order Surrender that soul which I know so well! Squash, ten cents each.

29

John Webster

The Hero in My Head

Stand up and fight! Said the Hero in my head

Raise your sword in challenge To the foes before you

An army of giants As countless as the stars Pressing from all sides There can be no escape

So will you charge into the melee Raging free like a fire

Shouting defiance with your last breath And truly live?

Or will you lay down on your belly Becoming a slave

Breathing for a little while longer But being dead within?

30

Coq

3

~bster

My Head

td fight! in my head 1 in challenge doreyou

f giants 1s the stars n all sides no escape

~ into the melee like a fire th your last breath y live?

NI1 on your belly ~a slave :tle while longer !ad within?

~0

Mark A. Davis

Corpus Nights

31

Connie Koski A•

Thirst for Life

Three events occurred take and defined who I am an •

\J events changed my interpreta and I believe, the direction m: three occurred. Each event ha shaped my personality in a pr 1 myself. ~

My mother, though no ·'#'

figure in each of these extraor * when my step-father left, leav own. She was a good mother < "' .. her favor--she was young, bla• (ages 13, 11, and 5) and I, watc Army, leaving us at the home saw her three times in the foU, sive in sustaining some sort o1 The last event happened durir offered me a summer in Germ opportunity to travel.

My mother was young, thing. Shortly after she broke 1

amid criticism, and went to co as at the time, it was not evide of scavenger hunt, when in tru of fun was to take us to free pl; us to read her college books. VI were forced to watch PBS for t later, when I followed my mot] school, it was her example thai parent, I could have become a

, Conversely, I watched my mot] feminist ideal that women can impact in my career and my re

.... # saw in her is in direct conflict ' clearly defined by God. I am le

We were happy girls an were completly oblivious to wh left, I was devastated. My seem

32

~Koski

for Life

32

Adrian Jackson

Who lAm

Three events occurred in my life that charted the course I would take and defined who I am and how I came to be this person. These events changed my interpretation of people, my interacting with people and I believe, the direction my life would have taken had none of the three occurred. Each event has given me something, good and bad, and shaped my personality in a profound way, making me a contradiction of myself.

My mother, though not a main character in my life, is the central figure in each of these extraordinary events. The first event occurred when my step-father left, leaving my mother to raise four girls on her own. She was a good mother despite the fact that statistics were not in her favor--she was young, black and single. At the age of ten, my sisters (ages 13, 11, and 5) and I, watched my mother walk out and join the Army, leaving us at the home of strangers, who were both alcoholics. I saw her three times in the following decade and though she was aggres­sive in sustaining some sort of relationship, I grew up a motherless child. The last event happened during my freshman year at college. My mother offered me a summer in Germany and I accepted, excited about the opportunity to travel.

My mother was young, active, intelligent, and she could do any­thing. Shortly after she broke up with my sister's father, she quit her job, amid criticism, and went to college. We were poor, but only in hindsight, as at the time, it was not evident to me. My mother made walking a game of scavenger hunt, when in truth she had no money for the bus. Her idea of fun was to take us to free plays, festivals, and museums, and challenge us to read her college books. When our television knob broke and we were forced to watch PBS for two years, she was overjoyed. Two decades later, when I followed my mother's path and gave up my job to return to school, it was her example that gave me strength. As a young, black single parent, I could have become a statistic, but she'd raised me differently. Conversely, I watched my mother do so much that I grew up with a feminist ideal that women can do everything, which has had a negative impact in my career and my relationships. This "superwoman" persona I saw in her is in direct conflict with my belief that women's roles are clearly defined by God. I am left in contradiction with my womanhood.

We were happy girls and like most kids in similar situations, we were completly oblivious to what would happen next, so when my mother left, I was devastated. My secure world was shattered. As if her leaving

33

Adrian Jackson

Who I Am (cont.)

wasn't painful enough, I was left in a house of chaos, where my grandfa­ther and his girlfriend were drunk and thoroughly ill-prepared for child­rearing. The results were disastrous. Each sister dealt differently with our ordeal, according to her personality, age and familial position. In es­sence, I raised myself and my younger sister, since no one else seemed equipped for or interested in the job. For my hard work, I was awarded fierce independence, strong will and unshakable self-confidence. I was also awarded the absolute inability to trust anyone, especially family, and a self-preserving protectiveness that prevents me from openly sharing my thoughts and feelings. At work, I can quiet a storm and bring order to chaos, yet repetitive noises like clicking pens and tapping feet drive me under a desk with my hands over my ears. I am left in contradiction with my abilities.

When I arrived in Germany, my mother, with her "go get 'em" attitude, asked if my sister and I wanted to go to Paris. Not a week later, she loaded us on a bus and waved from the terminal. We were on our own. My mother's invitation to Europe was her gift to me. She gave me a world bigger than the one I grew up in. I fell in love with Germany and in Germany. Being in Europe taught me the value of differences in people. I learned that even though there are screens--I am young, I am woman, I am black, I am American--this is not all there is to see. I am not defined by my roles. Neither am I defined by people's expectations of me; people looking through screens. On the other hand, I am so driven. The desire to prove myself is strong and frequently uncontrollable. I have to affirm to everyone--my co-workers, friends and family--that I am worthy of love and respect. I am left in contradiction with my appearance.

So, this is who I am. I am a feminist, with traditional ideals. I stand still amid confusion, yet cower at a little disturbance. I am undefin­able, yet can never measure up. I doubt that I would be who I am had I remained in my mother's house having never experienced loss, hopeless­ness and adventure. Three remarkable events, engineered by my mother, have made me who I am. I am a contradiction.

34

Narshc

My

God is so good. 1 He blessed me the da

I remember before then h Moreover, watch me do not

I would say, "How unl This load is too much

Feeling unlike the Instead, once fr

Becoming jaded enougl By then, my sun was co

Sunshine I didn't knm Just the umbrella I held o

Then suddenly, a ray of sunshi Looking at the sky, I thought 1 Not recognizing what it was,

Then I noticed the warmth of the I It was you! You were magnific1

You brightened my everything an( I bathed in all Made love to 1

Who'd ever thought by the f~ Once again I am alone a

Though I can't see the sun, tl I'll just let tomorrow bring su1

Nevertheless, I need no umbrell I thank God for blessing with tht=

For that was the irreplaceable

35

ackson

1 (cont.)

1ouse of chaos, where my grandfa-l thoroughly ill-prepared for child­~ach sister dealt differently with our tge and familial position. In es-r sister, since no one else seemed For my hard work, I was awarded mshakable self-confidence. I was trust anyone, especially family, and )revents me from openly sharing my quiet a storm and bring order to 1g pens and tapping feet drive me ears. I am left in contradiction with

ay mother, with her "go get 'em" ted to go to Paris. Not a week later, m the terminal. We were on our )e was her gift to me. She gave me a n. I fell in love with Germany and in ! the value of differences in people. I :reens--I am young, I am woman, I all there is to see. I am not defined people's expectations of me; people !r hand, I am so driven. The desire to r uncontrollable. I have to affirm to d family--that I am worthy of love n with my appearance. :minist, with traditional ideals. I at a little disturbance. I am undefin­

Ibt that I would be who I am had I ng never experienced loss, hopeless­'le events, engineered by my mother, :radiction.

34

N arshonna Townes

My Sunshine

God is so good. For I know this is true. He blessed me the day he introduced me to you.

I remember before then he would listen to me complain, Moreover, watch me do nothing but let things stay the same.

I would say, "How unhappy and mistreated I am! This load is too much for one woman to stand."

Feeling unlike the beloved I desired to be, Instead, once free, now in captivity.

Becoming jaded enough to voice my pain out loud, By then, my sun was completely covered by clouds.

Sunshine I didn't know, nor did I expect to gain. Just the umbrella I held over me in case of painful rain.

Then suddenly, a ray of sunshine unexpectedly peaked through. Looking at the sky, I thought to myself, "Hhmm ... This is new." Not recognizing what it was, I tried to block it with my hand,

Then I noticed the warmth of the light every place on me it had landed. It was you! You were magnificent! You treated me like a queen.

You brightened my everything and you were like nothing I'd ever seen. I bathed in all of your warmth. Made love to your many rays.

Who'd ever thought by the fall of night you would go away? Once again I am alone and above are only clouds.

Though I can't see the sun, things are a little different now. I'll just let tomorrow bring sun or clouds or whatever it may.

Nevertheless, I need no umbrella; you'll be back again some day. I thank God for blessing with the ray of light he let shine through.

For that was the irreplaceable day he introduced me to you.

35

N arshonna Townes

Oxymoron

Holy War? Now how is that possible? Well, maybe somebody's reverend could probably explain this contradicting truth to me. Now that America has a sense of newfound religion, maybe Mr. or Mrs. Reverend can lighten the dark.

Military Intelligence? Since when? How intelligent is childish adults making important decisions? Maybe one of my prejudice friends can open my mind since their decision-making is usually based on factual assumption as well.

Freed slave? Now how could that be? Maybe I should close my eyes and look towards the silent voice of my great-great-great-grandmother, who was an idiot savant and a freed slave. Maybe then I would be able to hear her lively ghost sharing the wisdom to life's mysterious anwers. What's that Big Mama? "I said, Baby, we were never really free."

Emma

3/

na Townes

moron

e? Well, maybe somebody's reverend licting truth to me. Now that America J.aybe Mr. or Mrs. Reverend can

How intelligent is childish adults Je one of my prejudice friends can -making is usually based on factual

>e? Maybe I should close my eyes and r great-great-great-grandmother, who ve. Maybe then I would be able to hear n to life's mysterious anwers. What's ,vere never really free."

36

Emmanuel Vomvas

Her Future

37

Emmanuel Vomvas

Metal Swirl v

I am envious of the freedom of the 1

Of the liberty it has to chase rolling And the time it has to wallow in the

I respect the strength of the wind. How it performs as a mighty condu< Pounding the soft earth, whittling m Building tension, tearing through w•

I admire the gentleness of the wind. It breathes kisses on my neck, caresE Just as it can take life, it also spread~ To undiscovered territories for rebin I am like the wind, because I too, ha,

39

el Vomvas

l Swirl

38

D.H. Moore

Wind

I am envious of the freedom of the wind. Of the liberty it has to chase rolling waves along the beach And the time it has to wallow in the warmth of the sunshine.

I respect the strength of the wind. How it performs as a mighty conductor during torrential black storms, Pounding the soft earth, whittling away at life and structure, Building tension, tearing through woods, leaving hearts wounded.

I admire the gentleness of the wind. It breathes kisses on my neck, caresses my face with puffs of sweet air. Just as it can take life, it also spreads seeds of beautiful blossoms To undiscovered territories for rebirth and the continuation of life. I am like the wind, because I too, have the freedom of choice.

39

D.H. Moore

What Have You Done to Make a Difference?

Have you heard the news of the latest scare, airplanes crashing, and terrorists everywhere?

People can't find loved ones and pleas for help on missing posters are filled with so much despair.

Ask yourself what have you done to make a difference, how did you show you care?

Yes, it happened on the other side of the country, but it could've been us, you'd better beware.

Did you give blood; send gloves, socks or water to help those who searched?

Did you light a candle, say a prayer, send money, or even go to church? What have you done to make a difference, besides sit high on your perch?

Yes, it happened on the other side of the country, but how I cried when the mighty Towers lurched.

They hate our way of life and all we stand for: freedom, democracy, and human rights.

They maim, torture, and pilfer, stealing innocent souls away in the night. Ask yourself what have you done to make a difference,

how can we help to ease their plight? Yes, it happened on the other side ofthe country,

but as a nation we will show them our might.

Do what you can to help your fellow man, because our nation must go to war.

Loved ones will deploy to defend our freedoms, of which some will give their lives for.

What have you done to make a difference--s_ay you stood up for America and you plan to do more.

Yes, it happened on the other side of the country, but we stood together, hand in hand, shore to shore.

40

r We

Weeping woman, why do you "' For the weight of the world has Joblessness, homelessness are · My Lord, I pray-- as I look forw

Tearful mother, why do you cry For my lost child that will never And the fatherless children, mo My Lord, I pray-- as I look forw.

Aching sister, why does your he. Because chaos has engulfed crec: My heart crumbles into a millio1 My Lord, I pray-- as I look forw<

Agonizing daughter, what has cc: My lover has left me for the tenc Years of building hopes and drec: My Lord, I pray-- as I look forwa

Weeping women, why you cry nc Just as the mighty willow weeps, Lord, we are rooted in faith pow• My Lord, we prayed and You ans which after all-- is another day.

tloore

to Make a Difference?

:ws of the latest scare, terrorists everywhere? pleas for help on missing posters J much despair. done to make a difference, how you care? )ther side of the country, ;, you'd better beware.

d gloves, socks or water ,vho searched? , send money, or even go to church? ·ence, besides sit high on your perch? Jther side of the country, ~ mighty Towers lurched.

;fe and all we stand for: {, and human rights. ing innocent souls away in the night. L done to make a difference, o ease their plight? other side of the country, l show them our might.

help your fellow man, Jn must go to war. to defend our freedoms, l give their lives for. to make a difference--ica and you plan to do more. other side of the country, nd in hand, shore to shore.

40

D.H. Moore

Weeping Women

Weeping woman, why do you weep? For the weight of the world has descended upon me Joblessness, homelessness are troubles too much to bear My Lord, I pray-- as I look forward to the dawning of a new day

Tearful mother, why do you cry? For my lost child that will never be born And the fatherless children, motherless child, all alone in the world My Lord, I pray-- as I look forward to the dawning of a new day

Aching sister, why does your heart break? Because chaos has engulfed creation and evil has consumed the soul My heart crumbles into a million broken pieces, unable to mend My Lord, I pray-- as I look forward to the dawning of a new day

Agonizing daughter, what has caused your pain? My lover has left me for the tender kisses of another Years of building hopes and dreams are now all washed away My Lord, I pray-- as I look forward to the dawning of a new day

Weeping women, why you cry no more? Just as the mighty willow weeps, but stands firm against the elements Lord, we are rooted in faith powerful enough to guard against the rain My Lord, we prayed and You answered with a sunrise, which after all-- is another day.

41

Zakiyyah Danquah

C.B. Love

I want to tell him how I feel. To keep our friendship, I will conceal.

Little by little I try to show it, Hoping that he'll like me a little bit.

The pressure is high. To cover his tracks he tells me a lie.

It hurts to know that C. B. Love isn't real. I must keep looking for a better deal.

Represent

Do I represent South Side? And tell them that I have lied.

They always say follow the North Star, but will it lead to a cell surrounded by the bar.

It's hard to know where I belong, but staying with the West Side is wrong.

The side I traveled to was east. The transaction was what I liked the least.

42

Zakiyyal

f

43

)anquah

ove

m howl feel. 1ip, I will conceal. :ry to show it, ke me a little bit.

·e is high. he tells me a lie. C.B. Love isn't real. . for a better deal.

sent

South Side? tat I have lied. )W the North Star, urrounded by the bar. where I belong, vV est Side is wrong. ed to was east. rhat I liked the least.

2

Zakiyyah Danquah

Hand

43

Angela Romero

Baby In Blue

44

A time to give birth, A t

With joy a child is born, Caresses beget smiles, a A birthday, first step, fi: Laughter, play, bike, sk ABC's, 1 23's, first grad Great athlete, policema

A time to love and a tin

Coming of age, first ror New freedoms, experin Teen years, social yean Clubs, clicks, groups, R License, first car, freed Graduation, adulthood

A time to keep and a ti

First job, first raise, Ta Home, family, spouse, Children, pets, traditio New job, bigger house, Braces, bikes, portrait1 Proms, college, weddiJ

A time to weep a time

First grandbaby, silve1 Leisure, travel, golf, E Reading the obituarie1 Social Security checks Walls filled with pictu Sharing memories, qu

A time to give birth, A

1 Romero

r In Blue

44

Art Connor

Life

A time to give birth, A time to die. Ecclesiastes 3.-a

With joy a child is born, In pain women give birth Caresses beget smiles, a giggle, With hunger it cries out A birthday, first step, first work, Defiance, NO. Laughter, play, bike, skates, Bumps, bruises, skinned knees ABC's, 1 23's, first grade, Tears of an insult Great athlete, policeman, soldier, Only dreams only games.

A time to love and a time to hate. Ecc/esiastes3:s

Coming of age, first romantic kiss, Pimples New freedoms, experimentation, Peer pressures Teen years, social years, Uncontrollable hormones Clubs, clicks, groups, Rejection, outcast loser License, first car, freedom, Wrecks Graduation, adulthood, future, Responsibility.

A time to keep and a time to throw away. Ecc/esiastes3:6

First job, first raise, Taxes Home, family, spouse, Payments Children, pets, traditions, Chaos New job, bigger house, Accountability Braces, bikes, portraits, Expenses Proms, college, weddings, Growing old.

A time to weep a time to laugh. Ecc/esiasteS3."4

First grandbaby, silver hair, AARP card Leisure, travel, golf, Ensure Reading the obituaries, Parents funerals Social Security checks, Broken hip Walls filled with pictures, lost siblings Sharing memories, quiet moments, Sleep.

A time to give birth, A time to die. Ecclesiastes3:2

45

Art Connor

The Gift

For if by the transgressions of the one, the many died, much more did the grace of God and the gift by the grace of the Man, Jesus Christ. Romans 5 :15.

All men, dying from the moment of birth. Growing learning how to acquire, struggling, working, lying to obtain. Lives spent pursuing lustful pleasures, Always drawing ever closer to death. Gathering all possible things before they expire.

A child born of elicit pleasures, or conceived in hopes to obtain, their days numbered from birth. Laboring through life to acquire, never knowing when time will expire. A moment lived, a moment closer to death.

Death the conclusion all obtain. Now wQ.at value are fleeting pleasures, as descendants argue to acquire those possessions gathered from birth. Wealth and fame desired, all someday to expire. Judgment awaits all in death.

Of what value, the things we acquire, are joys found in past pleasures from the grave. We, from our birth struggle to possess. All things obtained left behind, lost at our death. With death our greeds expire.

Men live on, beyond death, few with joy, receiving great pleasures. Most anguished, torture, pain the reward obtained, eternity spent praying the torment to expire. A gift offered in life, many failed to acquire Salvation available to all through his birth.

TheGi

A gift refused life governs wl paradise or who prays for et1 For wealth and fame they so now form within hells fire, c remembering a life spent pu: A present, The Son born to b

For his pleasure a gift He ga' of a Son. A new birth for all t life to obtain with our death

' For what does it profit a man to and forfeit his soul? Marke.-36

47

>nnor

Gift

e one, the many died, much more did be grace of the Man, Jesus Christ.

ent of birth. tire, •btain. leasures, death.

Jefore they expire.

s, [n, th. ire, l expire. oser to death.

ln. leasures, ire om birth. 5omeday to expire.

tcquire, es birth : obtained

)leasures. t the reward obtained, ment to expire. led to acquire ugh his birth .

. 6

Art Connor

The Gift (cont.)

A gift refused life governs who will obtain paradise or who prays for eternity to expire. For wealth and fame they sought to acquire, now form within hells fire, cursing their birth, remembering a life spent pursuing pleasures. A present, The Son born to be given in death.

For his pleasure a gift He gave, with the death of a Son. A new birth for all to acquire but if we fail in life to obtain with our death, like us, the offer will expire.

For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world, and forfeit his soul? Mark a:36

47

Kim Rowan

Evasive Soul

They hold you in high regard and think wonderful things of you. You know it, and you feel enthusiastic.

They praise you for your suave words and your striking appearance. You know it, and you feel secure.

They say you're an inspiration when you're up there speaking Knowledge.

You know it, and you feel relaxed.

They think you're intelligent. You must have read your way to the top. You know it, and you feel enlightened.

But when you're alone, do you believe it?

Are you as grand when no one's looking?

Do you cast away events that define your cruel sense of humanity?

Are you afraid of the verity of what lies underneath?

Does it hinder your soul?

It must inconvenience you to change. So you live for what accommodates you for now.

That fac;ade becomes who you are. You know it, and you feel defeated.

Cu Cullen

~ow an

e Soul

d think wonderful things of you. m feel enthusiastic.

rds and your striking appearance. l you feel secure.

when you're up there speaking ledge. you feel relaxed.

nust have read your way to the top. m feel enlightened.

1e, do you believe it?

en no one's looking?

ne your cruel sense of humanity?

y of what lies underneath?

er your soul?

~nee you to change. )mmodates you for now.

mes who you are. you feel defeated.

~8

Mary Harris

Cu Cullen (The Last One)

49

Jerry Don Osborne

Bertram Tower

so

DeAnnE

The

The lights are low. Musicians play softly He bows and she curi as everyone watches.

He slides his arm aro and moves her to the She feels safe wrappe and willingly follows l

Her gown twirls in mt as they glide across tb This way, then that w: keeping time with the

Their eyes smile with as they embark on thi: Together their hearts · and the music plays

A lifetime of love to share with each other, one step at a time with the music playin~

Knowing one day, the music will fade. Then they will stop and move to the music

no more.

51

Osborne

Tower

)

DeAnne Franklin

The Dance

The lights are low. Musicians play softly. He bows and she curtsies, as everyone watches.

He slides his arm around her waist and moves her to the music. She feels safe wrapped in his touch, and willingly follows his lead.

Her gown twirls in motion as they glide across the floor. This way, then that way, keeping time with the music.

Their eyes smile with excitement as they embark on this new journey. Together their hearts beat as one and the music plays

A lifetime of love to share with each other, one step at a time with the music playing.

Knowing one day, the music will fade. Then they will stop and move to the music

no more.

51

DeAnne Franklin

Life

Upon waking from a long night's sleep, I take a deep breath.

I open my sleepy eyes and gaze at everything in the room.

I feel the soft, fuzzy covers keeping me warm, and wish I had five more minutes.

The aroma of coffee brewing makes me smile, as I sit up in bed,

and am thankful that I have another day to live.

52

D

Will I wake up from this horrid dn Or have I landed in a really bad see Some transcendental acid trip where real or imagined my heart is ripped

My fingers betrayed me!!! It certainly wasn't my eyes. Damn my fingers!!! Oozing from their tips, that thick g Jealousy!!! !

If they have betrayed me they will E

Never to touch you To caress your face Never will each digit entwine as I c< Pulling you closer towards my hear

My eyes would never betray me. If you could witness the sight of my Filled with love and admiration for the honorable man Because of you they shine and smilE

So wake me with a gentle kiss and tell me my nightmare has been and that my fears have all been lies But My Dear Sweet One Don't tell me Goodbye

Franklin

ife

ong

)Om.

)Vers

ore minutes.

'rewing

)2

Kat Cotter

Dream

Will I wake up from this horrid dream? Or have I landed in a really bad scene? Some transcendental acid trip where real or imagined my heart is ripped

My fingers betrayed me!!! It certainly wasn't my eyes. Damn my fingers!!! Oozing from their tips, that thick green/black poison, Jealousy!! !!

If they have betrayed me they will suffer their punishment Never to touch you To caress your face Never will each digit entwine as I capture you in my arms Pulling you closer towards my heart

My eyes would never betray me. If you could witness the sight of my eyes Filled with love and admiration for the honorable man Because of you they shine and smile.

So wake me with a gentle kiss and tell me my nightmare has been remiss and that my fears have all been lies But My Dear Sweet One Don't tell me Goodbye

53

Lamar McGuire III

Lost Sister

I live in a silly world where people feel they have to do meaningless tasks because of God given smoke they inhale in their lungs; I speak in such disgust of this world because it has overtaken one of my loved ones, A naive girl who wanted a piece of the real world before she was supposed to experience it. Now she lives a life of regret and loneliness which she does not like to admit. So she runs to the first open arms that welcome her, hoping she can escape the internal scars that narcotic driven men hath put on her. My only sorrow is I couldn't be that voice in her ear that angel on her shoulder. Begging her to keep that glass from her lips and that chip off her shoulder. What I have is a rare treasure box one unseen in any dimension, but all of its treasure was stolen by a hormone driven thief without her permission. Her future was so bright, paved from the shining of her face, but the light has dimmed and now her path is leading to a darker place.

54

Reflectic

Guire III

ister

tere do

use of nhale

of this ertaken

l a piece she

ence it. ~gret and 'es not

open

he otic . her. ldn't that

t glass hip off

~asure

limension, 1s stolen ief

t, of her face, ~d and to a darker place.

Jeff Belding

Reflections of Myself

55

Angela Romero

Hosepipe

s6

The state Misunderstood p1

Now way to show the1 Reading and v

Feeling like yot Always in a state

All aspects of li Knowing you he: Never able to e:

Spending~ It's like Hallo"'

No apparent symp1 This is what it

R.omero

p1pe

)

Cat High

Dyslexia

Dyslexia, The state of total perplexia.

Misunderstood people ignore or tease you, Now way to show them what you really go through.

Reading and writing like a little kid, Feeling like you are terminally stupid.

Always in a state of constant frustration, All aspects of life full of complication. Knowing you have an intelligent brain, Never able to express or even explain.

Spending your life in defeat, It's like Halloween without the treat.

No apparent symptoms to show you are sick, This is what it is like to be Dyslexic.

57

Cat High

Barbie Syndrome

I am not a walking talking doll, My goal in life is not to look pretty and go to the mall.

You look at me and see "Barbie" picture perfect, Do you think brains are a birth defect?

I am intelligent under all this blonde hair, I have other qualities for you to compare. I like computer science and philosophy,

but the only subject you want to discuss is my biology. I have dreams of college and a career.

All you think about is how good I look from the rear. When I want to talk about the future and our marriage plans,

Yawning you say "Fetch some Bud Light babe, bottles not cans" When I get angry and start to complain and nag,

You respond "Do you have P.M.S.? I thought you finished your rag."

ss

Cas

Confusion n Images of past lovers an

Over and over t For countless o<

After being lied to and used b How am I going to

Tenderness and devotio but more often than no

I'm tired of being just an( And I try to go on

At first they say they lil Until they find someone el

I am the ' Second choice rn

No one wants a la They just want someon

Countless times the 1

For numerous c Then when

He can sugar coat it a1

LW

drome

g talking doll, Jretty and go to the mall. arbie" picture perfect, .re a birth defect? tll this blonde hair, or you to compare. e and philosophy, • to discuss is my biology. ege and a career. JodI look from the rear. ture and our marriage plans, l Light babe, bottles not cans" t to complain and nag, thought you finished your rag."

I .

Cat High

Casualty of Men

Confusion runs through my mind, Images of past lovers and relationships where I was blind.

Over and over those men I have forgiven For countless occasions and indiscretion.

After being lied to and used by those I thought were my best friends, How am I going to learn to trust anyone again.

Tenderness and devotion are some hearts greatest needs, but more often than not love stabs and the heart bleeds.

I'm tired of being just another number in a little black book, And I try to go on keeping a positive outlook.

At first they say they like me and treat me like a queen, Until they find someone else and I become "Miss In-between"

I am the one they settle for, Second choice makes me feel like a whore.

No one wants a lasting relationship with me, They just want someone there for when they get lonely.

Countless times the men in my life I have forgiven, For numerous occasions or indiscretion.

Then when he gets tired of me, He can sugar coat it and say, "It wasn't meant to be."

59

Cat High

Child's Dream

Shimmering, glimmering, glints of light, Dancing across the water in the eve's twilight.

As giggling maidens misbehave, Tiny ripples move along every wave.

Splashing and playing in the water tonight, Her company darts through the pale moonlight.

Carefree frolicking throughout the evening, I want to stay, can't think of leaving.

Merriment building throughout the night, As dolphins and mermaids join this sight.

It is hard to believe that here I can never grow old, But these are the rules that Peter has bestowed.

60

Jame

Shimmel

Iigh

Dream

~ring, glints of light, ~r in the eve's twilight. ens misbehave, 'llong every wave. in the water tonight, 1gh the pale moonlight. oughout the evening, t think of leaving. 1roughout the night, naids join this sight. ~re I can never grow old, tat Peter has bestowed.

James C. Tucker

Shimmering Reflections

61

Yasmin Nieves

Cowboy

62

Crystal

I See::

Every time I think of a cowboy, I close my eyes

and see the black sill radiant glow of a sun

The beautiful pinks, purples, orang1 quality to the hard shadow of an ev1

You can see no face, sometimes he leans, exhausi sometimes he is atop a trust

Always he takes in the view.

There is no knowledge of what his c Branding cattle, Trading h01 town and returning back ho1

The life of every cowboy is as varied wraps around him like one of Gran<

rieves I

)y

Crystal Bradford

I See a Cowboy

Every time I think of a cowboy, I close my eyes

and see the black silhouette of a man, backed by the radiant glow of a summer sunset

The beautiful pinks, purples, oranges, and reds, add a most romantic quality to the hard shadow of an even harder man.

You can see no face, sometimes he leans, exhausted, against an old truck sometimes he is atop a trusty steed.

Always he takes in the view.

There is no knowledge of what his day has held. Branding cattle, Trading horses, Mending fence, or Working in town and returning back home.

The life of every cowboy is as varied as the multi-colored sky that now wraps around him like one of Grandmother's patch-work quilts.

63

Crystal Bradford

The Best Things in Life

I've got a decent sense of humor And I've got friends that really care

And I've got a lover that smiles back at me-­Lord the best things in life are still free.

I don't have a whole lot of money And I don't have a house on the hill

And I don't rub elbows with the people on the TV But none of that's botherin' me.

Lord the best things in life Are a husband and a wife And little children And warm summer nights. And the best thing for me is bein' wild as I can be-­Oh, the best things in life are still free.

I've got an old dog that likes me And I've got a spot in the shade

And when I got bed, and lay down my head, the one I love most is right there beside me--

Lord the best things in life are still free.

Cryst

My dream seems so simp: but by no means is it sma My dream is not only to b but joy for all.

My dream is to take care« but a home to smother them with lov1 but at the same time, give

My dream is to be a star n but in the eyes of my frier and to live in a world whe to pretend.

My dream is for civilizatic but not for nature to beco I wish to know almost all. but still be able to be surp

My dream is to grow old ~ but forever be in my prim My dream is to make all o but realize that I can only

,radford

[ngs in Life

of humor ~nds that really care t smiles back at me-­life are still free.

· of money e a house on the hill with the people on the TV t's botherin' me.

life fe

hts. ne is bein' wild as I can be-­fe are still free.

likes me )Ot in the shade d lay down my head, the one I tt there beside me--life are still free.

~

Crystal Bradford

My Dream

My dream seems so simple ... but by no means is it small My dream is not only to bring myself joy ... but joy for all.

My dream is to take care of my family and not give them a house but a home to smother them with love ... but at the same time, give them the freedom to roam.

My dream is to be a star not to the world ... but in the eyes of my friends and to live in a world where grown-ups are still free ... to pretend.

My dream is for civilization to get back to nature ... but not for nature to become civilized I wish to know almost all ... but still be able to be surprised.

My dream is to grow old gracefully ... but forever be in my prime My dream is to make all of my dreams come true ... but realize that I can only handle one dream at a time.

6s

Acknowledgements

This is the second annual edition of Byways, the Central Texas College Journal of Art & Letters. Last year's first edition demonstrated the passion of CTC students to share their voices and their artistic eyes with the college community and beyond. The student body enthusiastically sought copies of the journal, encouraging us to double our production in 2001-2002. This year, once again, the students of Central Texas College have demonstrated that they are literary, artistic, and dedicated. A group of students worked with me as an editorial board to help select the written works published here, and we had a lot of interest in publication. In April, many of the students will present their work in a reading at the Oveta Culp Hobby Library in honor of National Poetry Month. We en­courage all CTC students, faculty, and staff, and members of the commu­nity, to attend this event.

Warm thanks goes out to a number of people who made the journal possible. Thanks to Anna Holston, Communications Department Chair, and Don Mikles, Dean of Central Campus, for their support of this en­deavor. Thanks to Dr. Alexander and her staff in the Fine Arts Depart­ment for coordinating the art submissions and preparing them in digital format for publication. Thanks to Peg Jennings, Dean of Library Services, and Dana Watson, Assistant Director of Library Services, for their sup­port of student artists. Finally, thanks to Ellen Dunn and Jane Gibson for making the cover art possible.

Submission Information 2002-2003

Byways is an annual publication. Submissions are collected in the fall and the journal is published in the spring. Students interested in submitting written work must be currently enrolled at CTC. All written submissions will be accepted electronically in Fall 2002. Email written submissions to CTCByways@yahoo.com. All submissions must be accompanied by your name, phone number, and email address, or else they will be returned. For art submissions, contact the Fine Arts Department at 526-1572.

Questions? Call the Communications Department at 526-1239.

66

Central Texas College P.O. Box 18oo

Killeen, Texas 76540-1800