The Creative Arts Magazine of Missouri S&T I grow on sacred and hallowed ground, Bought with innocent

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  • “Hope” - Note-covered walls of an international packpackers’ hostel in Cambodia, photo by John Nganga

    The Creative Arts Magazine of Missouri S&T

    Spring 2018

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  • Southwinds is published annually in the spring semester and distributed free of charge to the Missouri S&T community. The club Southwinds, which produces the magazine, is a recognized student organization and open to all students.

    Each fall semester, Southwinds invites submissions from Missouri S&T students, faculty, staff, and alumni. Poetry, stories, photographs, and original artwork should be submitted to southwinds.mst.edu.

    If you are an undergraduate or graduate student on the S&T campus with an interest in creative writing, the visual arts, layout & design, and/or if you would like to help produce or promote the next issue of Southwinds, please contact the group’s faculty advisor, Dr. Anne Cotterill, at cotteril@mst.edu. Dr. Cotterill’s office is in room 219 of the Humanities and Social Sciences building.

    About Southwinds

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  • This Year Will Be Different Still Life I Picked Out A Tree The Garden December Daffodils Dream Girl The Relic A Request To Be Human The Voice “How High?” Growth In An Old Garden Autumn Forest Lost Potential Of Mice And Metics “O, Brainless One” Deep Breaths War The Horror In Skemmult Lake Leap Hound Elegy Poem for Marcus Cloud Because He Asked for One In Time Of National Confusion Les Deux Côtés

    Ian Ferguson Ian Ferguson Mullin Evans Roger Weaver Agnes Vojta Gavan Cohen Vismay Manishbhai Shah Lindi Oyler Manish Jaisinghani Ian Ferguson Sierra Herndon Agnes Vojta Agnes Vojta Patrick Bazzoli Brett Coulon Argus Filmore JAZ David Naumann James Bohanon Will Shama Jack Morgan James Bogan

    Joseph Styczynski

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    Literary Works

  • In One Corner Of Bandung Downtown, West Java, Indonesia Hobbit House Branch Stars Over Rocky Falls Mount Rohtang, The Himilayas Mount Hood, On Route To Portland, OR Transcendence - Venkata Sai Abhishek Dwivadula Wai-O-Tapu, Active Geothermal Area In New Zealand, South Of Roturua Hobbiton, New Zealand Spiral Teton Flowers, Grand Teton National Park, Wyoming Crab Nebula Self-Portrait, Circa 2012 Modern Jungle, Solar-powered Electric Trees, Downtown Singapore Proactive Rice Field Terasering Near Bandung, West Java, Indonesia Synthesis Surface Tension A Friendly Visit White Water In Oregon Oregon Coastline Sunset On The Dock Lite Of Lily Mushroom Untitled Untitled Rabbit

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    Achmad Makmur

    Ed Malone Storm Fire Kent Gorday Venkata S.A. Dwivadula Beth Abner Venkata S. A. Dwivadula Ed Malone

    Ed Malone Storm Fire Lindi Oyler Kent Gorday Ron Caraway John Nganga

    Balaji R. Nagarajan Achmad Makmur

    Kelly-Marie Christensen Jay Clark Jay Clark Ian Ferguson Ian Ferguson Jeremy Schneiderjohn Desley Jett Storm Fire Rosalee Doty Rosalee Doty Lindi Oyler

    Visual Art

    Cover art: Front: Hope: John Nganga Inside front: Segah River’s Port, Berau, East Borneo, Indonesia - Achmad Makmur Inside back: Chakra Garden - Connie Gensamer Inside back: Celebration of Nations, 2017: Best Country Representation - Atta Ur Rehman Back: Leaving Milford Sound, New Zealand - Ed Malone

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    A fire is ignited from below. Burning red, orange and yellow from green. Covering the naked land with a rotting carpet. Leaves a life drawn within and (c)old ground.

    This Year Will Be Different Ian Ferguson

    Still Life Ian Ferguson

    Balanced forms, perfect in harmony and composition, ripe. The light, shadows and reflections, defines depth and color, accentuating the truth. Later, the sun has gone and the fruit is turning. The dust has settled on a forgotten exercise. But, ‘it is still life’ and the truth seems more complete.

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    Hobbit House - Ed Malone

    Branch - Storm Fire

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    I Picked Out A Tree Mullin Evans

    I picked out a tree. Towering higher than most, it had branches that fought wars for a living. And a trunk that had bark chipped away From those who picked before me.

    I picked out a tree. Sitting down beside it, I welcomed the stories The leaves so eagerly whispered. Tales of love, loss, and philosophy.

    I picked out a tree. Narrating Frankenstein and his monster, Heathcliff and of Socrates, the beginning of life And the end, they introduced to me.

    I picked out a tree. Following suit as the wonderers did, I snapped a piece Of the dry bark, and as I gathered myself, They told me of one more thing to see.

    I picked out a tree. Sprouting a new branch yet to be weathered and roughed. A branch with a battle to fight and a world Still left to read.

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    The Garden Roger Weaver

    I am this patchwork garden, Planted with unending kindness and love, Watered with tears of unneeded sorrow. Growing in me are remembrances of too many shortened lives. Walk my paths with reverence and awe, I grow on sacred and hallowed ground, Bought with innocent life, Blessed by caring hands and unselfish deeds. In me weeds of hate will not grow, To thorny prejudice I give no resting place, Clinging apathy I reject, Greed I will allow to wither and die. I am a growing mirror to the soul, Here ridicule has no place, All are welcome, From me no one will be cast out. Gaze upon me and know that my beauty Comes at too great a price. I honor the memory of the dead, I feed the mouths of the suffering. I would wish not to exist at all, Yet I am here, and here I will stay, Firmly rooted in ground once hardened by hate, Now softening with my presence. I am this patchwork garden, Planted with unending kindness and love. Water me with your tears, And remember. Roger Weaver January 14, 1994 For the Living Quilt Garden on the Knoxville World's Fair site to honor and feed victims of HIV/AIDS. This poem was read at the dedication of the garden in the Spring of 1994.

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    Stars over Rocky Falls - Kent Gorday

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    mount Rohtang, the himilayas - Venkata Sai Abhishek Dwivadula

    Silver haired, the year rests in the field. Crows gather on the sycamore bones. The day is like glass. Winter lurks in the shadows.

    In brittle glades, papery pods protect the last seeds. Spiky coneflowers stand tall; the goldfinches had their harvest – everywhere signs of a cycle fulfilled.

    December Agnes Vojta

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    Flowers grow where we least expect them, bursting bright from cold rock, forgiving winter’s languor.

    Yellow blooms bobbing on the wind, plucked untimely, but held closely to the breast.

    Long would I wish this not to flee, but they’re drifting gilded butterflies upon the breeze, ungently carried by close-flying clouds and grey storm.

    Daffodils Gavan Cohen

    Mount Hood, on route to Portland, OR - Beth Abner

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