Cantos - LR's Annual Literary Magazine
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Cantos 2020 1
“The chief enemy of creativity is good sense.”
Pablo Picasso
Cover Art by Sophia Chung
The Soul
Darren Jacobs
Quarrelsome, the lone, angry wave unleashing its frustration on the jagged rocks
Yet calm, the wind against an eagle’s wings as it soars the bright blue sky
Cold, the heartbroken widow in her first winter alone
Yet warm, the fiery red of a tree in the dawn of Autumn
Lively, the infant not yet affected by the trials of life
Yet dead, the crippled stem of a flower in the deepest winter
Controlling, the mother bear teaching her cub how to survive
Yet controllable, a tame horse running on the plains
3
Shoes Off
A Short Film by Joshua Cisneros
4
Mike
Look, the best way to stop missing something is
to forget that you don’t have it. Instead of
thinking about how you can’t take your shoes off,
forget that you can’t take your shoes off. It’ll
help you a lot. Just don’t think about it, I
don’t and it’s gotten me this far.
Julia
I don’t think I can do that.
Mike
Well, if you don’t like it here, you can always
just leave.
Julia
I’m considering it.
Mike
Just know that if you leave… THEY won’t let you
back into this hotel.
Julia
But what’s the point?
Mike
Again, don’t think about it. It’ll drive you
crazy if you do.
(Mike walks back into his apartment room. Julia
turns around and sees Randy standing on the
opposite end of the hallway.)
Randy
They’re not happy with the way you’ve been
behaving so far.
5
Church of Bones
By Brianna Miller
6
Mexico
Leslee Moon
The winds of change are here. I can feel them, stirring through the trees. Nothing
lasts forever, except God, maybe the seas. If they don’t dry up from the abuse and
pollution, degradation, and confusion. Water diverted to places it was never meant to
flow. Rivers no longer reaching their intended destination. I’m speaking of you, sweet
Mexico.
Where I’m too afraid to travel. Warnings of kidnappings and false incarceration.
Prevent any well-meaning vacation. There’s a town I’d love to visit. I’ve heard it’s full of
artists. Inland, not a place of tourists. Where the culture is rich and by all means
inclusive. Yet I don’t go, too many routes turned abusive.
Mexico has a bad reputation. Drug lords seeming to control the devastation. How did
that happen? Perhaps a deeper inquiry is required. I wonder if the dried up Colorado
River, a vital element for life to flourish, has anything to do with their unpredictable
economy, unstable families, and diminished personalities.
Mexico, you are not forgotten. I weep for your children. I pray that they won’t grow
up in a world feeling begotten. A wall won’t solve the problem. Unless the wall is
protecting them from the problem.
America claims to be the land of the free, but that’s just plain mockery. Using God’s
name in vain, He doesn’t divide his people. All are welcome in His kingdom. Those
making the threats have lost sight of where they came from. We are all guests on this
planet. As I mentioned before, nothing lasts forever. Take inventory of your life, how
much of it is devoted to God’s pleasure?
What can you do to heal the world? It’s as simple as smiling at your neighbor. They
are your imagination manifestation. If you don’t like what you see, take your faith into
question. Those with a pure heart, one anchored in God’s profession, find not fault in
one another, they are simply a reflection.
Godspeed is nature’s inclination. His timing is perfection. Asking only your total
dedication. You have been sold a lie with every iPhone edition. It can’t replace life, it is a
phone-y misrepresentation.
7
Mothers Kimberly Pitts Cultures may have deemed this a man’s world, but the Lord has declared you to be highly esteemed or favored one You can be seen as a wonder woman who I know can often feel like a worn-out woman You do many things that only the Lord sees In every meal prepared, mile driven, tear brushed away, prayer prayed, battle fought on my behalf, you are always more than what you do Just as me, you are loved by the one and greater parent: our Savior and creator. Just as me, you are a sinner and make mistakes. Just as me, your unborn and present life was worth the ultimate sacrifice. Just as me, every payment of your past present and future sins have been paid in full. Just as me, you have been redeemed and fully known - loved - seen by our Lord Above. In the beginning, the Lord looked down at what He had made and frowned because it was not yet complete without you You, Mom, repeat many words. Whether with discipline, a kind hug, or many other gracious ways that abound... you don’t let a day or night pass without the sounds of “I love you” or “I love you more” So, today, as well as any day, whether in word or deed, is one worth repeating and reminding you too of the phrase “I love you” 8
Battered
Hannah Davis
I’ve grown tired of mistaking
drunken slurs
for sober cursive
that talks of softness
like wanting me
like loving me.
I can’t decide between
the Times New Roman
or Sans Serif lines
that they scribble
with their tongues
with their teeth.
But it feels better
to be left with bruises
than to be a stranger to touch.
So leave bloody constellations behind
before you go, so at least I’ll know
that you were here.
I’m so fucking sick of people leaving
me and having nothing to show for it.
9
Weight Chase Fowler we drove down the road two vile things coursing through the veins of the city like poison rotting a virgin heart from the inside out your hands gripped the wheel- my leg- the wheel- my thigh- and I noticed your knuckles white and damaged with dried blood; the wounds of blind anger meeting drywall wounds from a pain easier to deal with than the burn of a kiss ‘cause you’d rather have a fractured hand than the weight of scarlet letters spelling fag carved into your ivory flesh dripping the real you onto that privileged foundation you built yourself upon i ask myself what weighs more: the weight of your hand on my thigh or the weight of society’s expectations for you and how next time you take a swing in anger it might be my blood on your hands. 10
I Got Here...
Yanira Cristobal
I got here thanks to them.
The ones who traveled miles thinking there was never an end.
Through multiple deserts without food or water
to get to where they are now.
Leaving behind parents,
brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles.
Leaving behind everything they value for a better future.
Two young adults risking their lives
in search of opportunities and freedom.
He, young and full of energy.
She, young with a beautiful creature inside her belly.
Hand in hand, walking through tough days.
Night after night walking through cold winds.
With hopes for a better future and the family they wished to have.
He, working two jobs for his wife and for his first baby soon to come.
She, working with her baby bump anxiously awaiting the day.
Years passed by and they were progressing.
Three kids enjoying their childhood filled with love and laughter.
In the blink of an eye their children were now at the same age,
mom and dad had been when they arrived.
First child done with college, now working his dream job.
Second child attending college striving to achieve her goals.
Third child growing up following her siblings’ footsteps.
All three working hard to make the tears and sweat worthwhile.
I got here thanks to them.
11Solution v. Pollution
Sophia Chung
12It was good
Alivia Barrier
From James 2:10
“Whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in
one point, he is guilty of all.”
We laid down our burdens next to each other.
Filled altars with pains and sorrows and headaches
row by row surmounting sins rising above our
heads. Holier than thou—than us. Than our
agony afflicted by no one—other than ourselves.
We think of our torment and torture,
of our own discomforted heads throbbing with
the ideas that this world could get better. If only
we had cared; our world burning, throbbing,
destroyed at every turn.
Too late to rebel against our lifestyle, we
comfort ourselves by asking for forgiveness, a
grace which, we are taught, can be sought over and over
again and again. Breathing World
We lie. Jarod Large
To ourselves.
To our youth. Ever wondered how trees work,
To our God. stand tall, silent, givers of life.
Guardians of the world
His creation was good. sucking out the bad to expel the good.
But, we are “guilty of all.”
Never ask for anything in return,
they exist to keep the world breathing.
Millions of years, infinite breaths,
they were always there.
They burn, die, they resurrect
their own circle of life,
one day it might all end,
without our protection.
Continuously mistreated,
they suffer, cry, scream.
If we do not help,
the day will come,
the world takes its last breath.
13It’s Been Awhile Jenna Foster Since I’ve smelt the crisp scent of descending dead leaves or the fumes of soap infused within threads of cotton as I wipe a runny nose on my sweater sleeve. I haven’t felt the burn of a rope on my hands or its endless besetment between my limbs as I sit on its circular counterpart. What could take me away from the wind on my face as I bike through gravel alleys in attempt to escape? I don’t need the dirt on my denim anymore because I’ve been collecting dust inside on the floor. The Red Tree Richburg Canty The most beautiful tree I have ever seen Leaves of crimson, bark of rusty oak Shook me to my roots, wasn’t even looking for it We spoke briefly as I had to go, A mutual appreciation of one another. She said she’ll be here next time I see her I knew this, but I must accept that those leaves may be gone The brown veins may wrinkle It is still the same. Thing is I wasn’t looking I saw right to the roots, and now I am writing this. Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall I’m with it, let me add to your branches Hopefully they don’t kill you for them Please be here when I return. She promised. 14
Rain
Samantha Miller
There is no need to hide from the rain
Let it fall on your skin
cultivating shrieks of joy and laughter
Let it nourish the child in you
when you wake to a dreary day
and it tucks you back into bed
while it lulls you to sleep with its pitter-patter lullaby
Let it remind you of its power
when it turns the sky from blue to black
then cracks open the heavens
shaking the world with its thunder
You do not need to fear the rain
Let it call to you with promises of
new life and new starts
Let it wash away the old
the dead and the dying
Photo by Alexandria DeLaTorre
15Flakes of Peace
Wilson Martin
Opaque skies
menacingly move
heavy overhead
stopping here
breath
seen on cold morning
shiver shoots
through me
sound of stillness;
fill the wood
dry leaves crunch
under step
cold wind blows
through leafless trees
winter of wonder
upon the world
at last; heavy
clouds loose
their hold
first
flake
drifts
down
followed by fellows
lazy blown by wind
greenery of pines
brown leaf litter
gray birch branches
disappear under
falling
f
l
a
k
e
s
16
16Snowy Fence
Emma Throneburg
cover
green brown gray
watch wood fill up with snow
frost frozen
in brief moment
serene silence
upon my world
close eyes
breathe in
this moment
of peace
17
17Photo by Lily Laramie Photo by Summer Lackey
The Doldrums
Lily Laramie
Dismal skies.
Crows, color of midnight, scream from invisible airborne perches,
Fields, colorless as the rest
of the purgatory-esque
landscape.
Then there is The Man,
The man in the moth eaten hat, with the white mangy hair,
squirming about his shoulders.
And his cane,
charred, split, ancient thing with a raven's head that watches with wolfish
intensity as you move.
Black eyes violating, slithering over your skin.
The Man.
Ruler of the Doldrums who eats your dreams as if they were
chocolate covered candies.
The man in your dreams, who lives in the floating house with the warped,
twisted
ancient boards look as if they knew the time of earth's creation.
House with alien pulsing blue light oozing through
windows.
The only color in this grey dismal world.
Calling to the unwary like a siren's song.
Feel the tug of this demon’s song as you look upon that house, that man
who dwells in those ancient walls.
You call out to the man, but as everything else in the Doldrums
your voice is nothing. As dead
as the grass beneath bare feet.
Then, the old man jerks his head, and creaks around to look at you, his face,
his face is nothing. Blank as slate that has faded and cracked over time.
Try to scream,
mouth gaping like a cave opening,
and all you hear are crows.
He walks toward you, joints cracking and popping as if he has never moved
until now, house at his side.
Doors shudder open,
preparing to take one last victim into its shattering depths.
19Home Through Feelings
Kaynmon Maddox
breathe in
fertilizer with an ocean breeze
worry-free,
like nothing can bother me
new construction
mixed with hot winter temperatures
this is Home
over highways and pastures
through bright lights
of the city
fighting through traffic
racing to your dreams
heart racing even faster
towns that not as they seems
land surviving and thriving
California
20Ocean Sunset by Landra Mohler
Siesta Key, September 2019
Michael Gebelein
We sat together and the moon broke up the waves
And washed sand and tiny broken pieces of shells over our feet
She pressed against me there and I felt it
Tiny shocks across my back that flashed endlessly
21Focus Aurora King Driving through the rain as it pours. Floating through the atmosphere, tears, but much more. Sliding down my windshield, blurring my vision. A caution to pull over, stop and listen. I watch as it penetrates the mud, seeps into the roots, like emotions through my body. I listen as it bounces on asphalt. Creating songs of nature, attempting to calm me. Rain is my outlet, releasing my feelings, impacting those around me. Focus on nature, emotions of the earth. Our natural surroundings. 22
Panic
Delaney Dewey
uncontrollable gusts sweeping across
once calm and serene terrain
rain beating down like a stampede
horses racing inside my chest
funnel clouds forming
like stirred up foam
frothing and foreshadowing
more is coming.
bushes uprooted
thrust from sedentary life
frantically flipping and flying
caught in a storm of whirling wind
a chaotic choir of singing-
no
screaming
with no escape
stuck in my own body.
thumping has moved to my head now
terror forcing its way out
from the core of my body
the beating, a crescendo,
hurricanes within me peaking,
no eye in sight.
all there is to do
is breathe
and wait
and breathe
and ride out the storm.
23Some get Stronger, Some get Weaker Hannah Lassiter Dear friend, Some will get stronger In life Some will get weaker I mean this as a speaker Be rather in the former Than in the latter Life is not easy It is a test for souls How much do you believe? What do you believe? Things quickly unfold Everyone that lives has to get old Some will get stronger Some will get weaker I pray you will not cease Living life and seeking peace Be strengthened instead of accepting defeat Love, Someone like you 24
Atlas, Astronaut
Lily Oetting
When you first looked to the stars, did you ever imagine you would walk among
them?
Setting your sights above Mount Olympus, you climbed the cosmos in rockets
built for Titans.
From up there, mortals are nothing, Zeus but a speck, and Olympus no more than
an anthill.
There, amongst the cosmic deities you hold the world, the expectations of mortals,
Zeus’s self-imposed, pseudo-power. Because you know gods are only worshipped
by men on the ground.
Yet there, as you walk in sync with the universe, all rests firmly on your shoulders.
But even the titanic rockets that carried you beyond mere galaxies all burn
eventually.
After all, Icarus’s wings only killed him in the end.
For now though, as you stand between planetary light and stars combusting, men
look to you to carry their cosmic aspirations- you, Atlas, Astronaut.
Milky Way Galaxy
Daniel Kiser
25An Excerpt from “The Li Fonti Job”
Hollis Miller
I grew up in a rough neighborhood. A couple of blocks filled with nothing but pork
and liquor stores right smack in the middle of Queens. There wasn’t a time when the
police weren’t lurking around the corner waiting for some kids to make a mistake and rob
a convenience store or jack a lady’s purse. That is, until Jackie Belluci came around.
Jackie was a high-ranking member in the Genovese family, and I’m talking
caporegime high. Cocksucker had power like you wouldn’t believe. He showed up, and
the police started wearing shades so dark they might as well have gouged their eyes out.
The neighborhood loved him, right down to the nuns and priests. He was a superhero.
Jackie and I eventually became good friends. I was always a troubled kid, had a
temper like the Tasmanian Devil, and was constantly in a pinch because of it. But this
one time I really fucked up. I was about thirteen years old and had just saved up enough
cash selling papers to buy a bike. To a kid in my neighborhood, a bike was like a brand-
new Cadillac with white-leather seats. I was proud of that shit, and I earned it by my own
doing. Until one day this kid, much younger than me, named Greg Bufano, took it right
off the rack and rode the thing right out into the street. My bike got smacked by a two-
ton delivery truck which turned it into spare parts. I beat the fuck out of the kid. He was
only like six years old, but I thought he needed to be taught a lesson, so I did him good.
Broke a few things, cracked a few more.
The next day I was having an ice cream with my friends when Mr. Bufano, who we
called Big Boof, barged in the joint talking like he was gonna kill me, a thirty-year-old
fucking guy mind you. Lucky for me, Jackie Belluci was hanging around back and
stepped in, told Bufano he lacked respect and I was just a kid and kids will do what they
do. Jackie knew what had gone down the day before, so he took me under his arm and
walked me to the bike shop a few neighborhoods over, a pleasant place so to speak. He
took me inside and told me to point at whichever bike I liked best, and with a quick
handoff of a few bills I had my Cadillac with white-leather seats back. Jackie told me that
if I stuck with him, there was more of that coming, and that people like Greg Bufano’s
father would think twice about laying their hands on me, or maybe they wouldn’t even
think about it at all.
And fucking a did I stick around. At first, I did menial things like grabbing coffees
and sandwiches for Jackie and his friends, but as I got older, I was upgraded to kicking
Irish ass, and eventually taking out the trash for Jackie, if you know what I mean.
26I never enjoyed taking anyone’s life, but that was the only way to survive once you got
involved. You were expected to obey orders, and you’d be the one chopped up in a few
dumpsters if you didn’t. That was the way things were, and without Jackie Belluci I
probably woulda gotten pinched pushing heroin on a street corner. I owed him a lot. Like
I said, I never liked it, but the way I saw it, we all signed a contract when we joined up.
We knew the stakes, the risks, and we took them. That’s how I made my peace with what
I did. The life wasn’t for everybody, but we had a good thing going, until one day, we
didn’t.
27Hart Square: Mixed Media
Artwork
Mason Strother
Teague House
28Punch-Seitz House
Kahill-Dellinger House
29The Tree
Wilson Martin
the Tree the Tree
planted lightning
after Pop married Maw struck leaving
in front yard of old black tear scar
White farmhouse before aunt cried
no inside for cousin
plumbing and potbelly killed in rice patties
wood stoves. Yellow ribbon
tied to remember.
the Tree
sapling the Tree
when Momma played kissed by Maw
beside as child kneeling on Green grass
cradling baby before coming
doll, one having to live with us
Blue blinking eyes. after Pop’s stroke
and heart attack.
the Tree
where aunts the Tree
uncles said vows pushed down
professed love by yellow bulldozer
smoked making
unfiltered Camels black parking lots
talked sports white concrete strip-malls
sipped iced tea blue business parks signs
shared noisy green apple clouds
church gossip square red brick blocks
Red sauce recipes. of meaningless trees.
the Tree For What?
under which
family dinners amelioration
took place; technologization
shade from noon industrialization
Sunday summer; socialization
after lunch capitalization
raced cousins or
climbing like Gray
squirrels before just some city’s
I broke wrist manifest destiny.
fingers slipping
from branch.
30Like They Said
Yer Vang
I am strong. I can even fly,
but I sat and watched life pass by.
The waves are calling, the winds are pushing
and I stand unmoving; I stand unchanging
I am not strong. I cannot fly.
My world came down when you said bye
no one knows that night so cold
we were so bold, but now we’re old.
Remember all the smiles and laughter?
We all dreamed of what came after,
but what is the use without you?
I pray and hope that you miss us too.
Now I have to be strong without you here,
It’s hard without a fallen tear.
Not a photo or your voice.
I’m sad. We had no choice.
They all say one day at a time,
my heart cries out it’s a crime.
You’ll learn to live without them
it all becomes an offset rhythm.
31You’ll Find Your Time
Sarah Cross
I miss the sidewalk/ the familiar smells/ sometimes I don’t feel real//
Feels like I was just taking my dog out/ talking to you in the closet/ to keep me
grounded/ counting until I could comeback
I’m not sure if I ever came back
Fear finds me/ entangles me in its web/ I wish I could be free from it/ speak
without it ruining my confidence// Breathing makes me nauseous/ nights make
me wake up with a sweat
My head says I don’t belong here/ the web feels more like cords/ and they tighten
You write well
But I’m just trying to put all this pain somewhere/ all this fear/ the thoughts that
say I shouldn’t be here
Telling me no one actually cares
If I knew how many times I’d want to give up/ how many poems I’d write until
I’d no longer felt sadness/ I probably would’ve quit/ If I knew how many times I’d
be forgotten/ I probably would’ve given up on making friends
That’s why the future is dangerous
32I think about all this sadness/ crying in bathrooms/ begging in hallways/ sitting
by myself
Thinking about being a kid/ wanting friends/ but disregarded instead/ so I looked
for them in the books I read/ found one in a deflated soccer ball I played with//
Thinking about when my mom crumbled/ the first time I saw my dad cry/ these
things imprint on me for life/ the past seems to follow me/ want me dead
Inspires these poems that will be read
My therapist says I should trust more but I’m scared/ my best friend feels distant/
I hate feeling so separate
I apologize a thousand times/ I often hate how I am/ you always tell me it’s fine/
fixing my rings/ fixing my trust issues/ maybe one day I won’t be so scared to ask
for help
You show me what it means to be kind
Hickory Square Clock
Daniel Kiser
33Listen
Sophia Chung
34Glass
Landra Mohler
35Eliseo Miles
Sydney Moulton
Eliseo Miles looks at his hands when he starts to feel weird about life and existing and
all that dumb shit. When he has a miniature existential crisis, which only happens
sometimes on Sunday nights, with the bedside lamp still on, the air polluted with the
burden of the last seven days and the even heavier burden of the seven days to come, he
listens to Drake and looks at his hands. He doesn’t really like Drake and he isn’t even sure
if he really likes girls, but it makes him feel more normal to be pissed and upset at a girl
that never existed because Drake is pissed and upset at a girl that probably did exist. It is
2016, and getting sad to Drake is the most manly thing that Eliseo Miles can do. Eliseo is
looking at his hands and they aren’t his.
Try going a month without looking at your face. Go to a mirror and get really close to
it, take your glasses off, get closer, until your breath fogs up the glass, and look yourself in
the eyes like you were meeting them for the first time. Stare for a good while because
everyone needs to have an Eliseo Miles identity crisis at least once in their lifetime. Gaze
deep into the stalking black abyss of your pupils, try to make out the face of that voice
narrating your thoughts, and ask yourself, “Am I really in this motherfucker?”
This humid and uneventful Sunday night, Eliseo is staring at a spoon, or at least that’s
what you would think looking at the angsty, bored teenage boy on the couch, head
propped on the arm rest, twisting the spoon back and forth in the air, probably thinking
about girls. That's what anyone with eyes that aren’t his would see. Eliseo is studying the
distorted reflection of his face on the back of it, moving it back and forth to make his
features twist in and out of proportion. “Marvin’s Room” by Drake is playing on repeat in
the back of his mind, but it isn’t a girl that he is thinking about. He is coming to the
crushing realization that this reflection looks more like Eliseo than any other reflection of
himself that he’s seen. It has no specific shape or characteristic. It can not see or hear or
smell because it has no definite eyes or ears or nose. It can’t be defined. It just experiences
things. It doesn’t exist to anything or anyone but itself, and Eliseo is satisfied with that.
36Anonymous
37Constantly
Alexandra DeLaToree
I constantly wonder.
Constantly worry.
Constantly walking….. egg…..
On………….... Shells…
Constantly...
scared,
Of o p e n i n g up to you about my pain.
The message must not have gotten across, you did the same thing again.
Constantly...
doubting,
Whether or not this relationship is real
Constantly...
searching,
For you, to see if you’re really there for me like I need you to be.
Constantly…
hiding,
How I really feel, unsure if the wrong move will push yo u a w a y
Constantly...
watching,
Your every move for a sign that you want to leave me.
Constantly...
overthinking,
Everything I said to see if I made you too uNcOmFOrtAblE to stay.
Constantly...
talking,
to make sure you HEAR me.
Constantly...
reminding,
You, to make sure you don't forget me
I’ve been told I’m easy to forget….
… ......................constantly.
38Give Me Security
Jasmine Thompson
It wraps around me like thorns on a rose
Perfect smile, pretty brown skin.
Can a girl just get picked from that?
Give me security
Wrap me up like my thighs do my shorts in the summertime,
The way my love handles hug in my jeans
Give me security, please.
Instagram models show you the life.
Money. Perfect hair. Golden hour.
but give yourself the love you need.
Dancing, becoming an alter ego of myself
Pretending to have it all
Secure her in everything.
Padlock on my precious heart
While walls arise at the sign of something good.
My soulmate around the corner.
Give me security?
Find security within yourself, but
Give me the ability to love you.
As I start to unwrap,
That flower girl, chocolate skin beauty girl,
Confident state of mind.
Affirmations find me every day,
That Cancer woman has a beautiful shell of her own.
She finds security in herself.
Security has found her.
It wrapped around me like thorns on a rose.
But all comfort spaces come to an end.
Give me security?
I now have it within myself.
39If Only Dogs Lived Forever Charlotte Tester 40
Love’s Embrace
Sheri Moroe
Come my love and sit with me Now we are older, time flies by,
Let us rest here under this tree, Come sit with me love, as I weep and cry
For we are young and have so much But you cannot sit here by my side,
time, For you have gone on to the other side
Sing to me a silly little rhyme
I remember your touch and day gone by,
Of knights in armor and ladies so fine, I see your things and I start to cry
Of days gone by ...another time
Don’t worry my love I’m coming soon,
When love and honor were the natural My heart sings out our favorite tune
way,
Not like the world we live in today Of love’s first kiss and the romance we
shared,
You laugh and hold my hand to your No other’s love story could ever compare
lips,
Your kiss is such a tender wisp Death is only a part of life,
And soon my world will have no strife
So time has flown now, years gone by,
My head on your shoulder, a tender sigh I’ll see you waiting at heaven’s gate,
Your arms open wide, in love’s embrace.
Come my love and sit with me,
Here on the bench, under our tree
Let us watch the children laugh and play,
And hope that they will want to stay
For children grow up and are soon on
their way,
And one day bring their children to play
41Rise and Fall Rachel Blake crickets chirp calming beating beneath my rib cage fueled by fear. sleepless nights heaviness lifted by morning fog and carried away on golden lined cotton candy tensions rise and fall with a cool breeze carrying the crisp smoky smell of extinguished rage. the beauty of autumn and anger, neither lasts forever. 42
Pieces of the Void
Samantha Cleveland
The
void that
surrounds me
when I am alone.
Follows me endless,
Wherever I roam. Room
to room, featureless faces. Ex-
cept for their eyes, floating in space. Such mass-
ive glowing spheres reflect the sun’s light. Like golden harvest moons
in the night sky. Where they silently lurk, hiding in the dark. Watch-
ing me patiently, while on dreams I embark. Their feet move quietly
to leap on my bed. To watch me closely, perhaps wondering if
I am dead? In the darkness they wait for my conscience to stir.
Screaming in chorus while loudly they purr. Scrambling
away, as I rise to my feet. Moving towards the kitchen, gat-
hering food for my glaring to eat. Claws re- a -ch to
sink into my skin. Tearing my jeans, the frenzy
begins. The void hungers for food, they climb towards
the bowl. Le- a -ping when placed upon the floor.
The void en- gulfing it whole. Agile bodies,
like a twisting black hole. Absorbing the light, content
with their feast. Small insatiable creature, my onyx
furred beasts. Preoccupied, grant me a moment of
peace. Before the void returns, to play at my
feet. Dancing weightlessly, on tiny
toe beans. Six loving
kittens so sweet.
43Leviathan
Toriana Smith
44The Heart Eater
Lawrence Cook
I’ve summoned a monster. The moment it had fully appeared it had escaped out into
the world, and I fear that because of me we are all going to eventually die. It was
supposed to be all fun and games. Nothing that I was reading felt like it was real, but it
felt fun to carry out. Walking into the forests late at night, dressed in sky black robes, and
chanting out half assed Latin learned from library books and internet sites. Yet, that
thing that came bubbling out the ground was far from just childish illusions and make
believe.
There was a crack of lightning when it first happened. Wiping the shit eating grin off
my mouth I had stood shell shocked waiting to see what would happen. Then the fresh
spring leaves started to flee from their trees. A torrent wave of green leaves floated down
to the ground and rode on the swirling wind laying low on the rough forest floor. The
newly bloomed trees had shaken themselves bare, and their bark grew darker as they
seemed to rot with each passing second.
Part of me was excited to see what I had done. That is until it started to rise from the
broken ground. Like thick, black boiling tar it pooled itself and from the center a skeletal
figure rose into the glow of the moon light. It was human in shape, but far from normal.
It lumbered high into the sky. Its back was arched in a nautilus shaped hunchback. The
creation of the beast filled the air with snapping sounds as it set itself right.
I had closed my eyes to try and snap myself awake. It had to be a nightmare, but even
as I tried to will myself out of the dark, I could hear it continuing to grow. The liquid
rushing sound of flesh winding up its figure, and the horrid smell of its century old
muscles reversing its petrification.
Only when it had started to move towards me did I open my eyes to the horror
towering above me. Its skin was pale and white, stretched taut over its coiled and knotted
bones. The tar around it had stopped bubbling, and it was free to move. It had taken a
couple steps toward me, before bolting into the shadows of the forest.
My heart was beating too fast, but I ran home as fast as I could push myself. By the
time I had made it home and bolted the door behind me I was seconds away from passing
out. My body felt heavy, and my heart was flooding my head with blood. I don’t
remember passing out, but it couldn’t have been long after I had taken off my robes and
shoved them under my bed like dirty secrets.
45There was a possibility that I could have grown to accept that it was just a bad dream.
I would have loved nothing more than to believe that, but the next morning I had woken
up to my mother screaming. She was standing on the front porch, the remains of her
coffee cup shattered around her feet. I didn’t even try to ask her what was wrong because
I saw it immediately.
Three corpses were strung by their feet from the roof of the front porch. Their blood
collected in a large puddle under that seeped into the white wood of the deck and seeped
down the stairs into the gravel walkway. It was all too much to handle and I had vomited
almost right away. Despite it being so horrible I couldn’t look away. Worst of all they
were all missing their hearts. I knew that it was the monster that I had summoned. It had
killed those people, torn out their hearts, and then strung them up to me as a gift.
It’s been twenty-two years, but I know it's still out there. I can hear it in the night
howling for its creator. I still find the gifts it brings me yearly. Sometimes it’s people, other
times it’s animals. Eventually, I know that it's going to come for me, and I want it to. I
want to be the one that puts it back in the ground. Even if it takes years, I will stop
playing its games and kill it. I won’t let it take my heart alive. That much I can promise.
46Drug
Alannah Thomas
I should have listened
Voices in my head
Scars on my heart
wide and deep
Should have paid more attention
To you breaking me
Fixated on the high
High off emotions.
The butterflies you gave me.
Your Confidence. Your sureness.
I was being fooled
And I noticed too late
You had me captivated.
Your words played games
in my head
my mind always racing
always on my toes
But I couldn't let you go
I was addicted
To the heavy drug you were
You were the air I breathed
The love I needed
The root of problems
And I couldn't get away
I wanted to leave all along
But you were my addiction
You numbed my pain,
but I was blind to what you were doing
My mind was a mess
That drug broke me.
You were the drug that broke me.
Years later
Still broken, pieces scattered.
47New Life in Decay
Hannah Wright
Photo by
Lily Laramie
48Sailors Never Sleep
Alexandria DeLaToree
Port
Brianna Miller
49Silent Tears
Amanda Johnson
My heart is pounding, My brain is out of wack
The Anxiety is giving me a heart attack
Red feet and rushing blood
I can feel my heart beat with a thud
Mind is numb and the pain makes my faith wane
I just might break because the headache is more than I can take
Silent tears are falling down
I pray for a life raft so I won’t drown
The pain is daunting and the fear is numbing, but I have to think about the light
that is coming
Horses Running Along the Parkway
Michael Gebelein
There are very few lines left to cross
The stories told all end the same way
I sat smoking on the stoop in Baltimore
Just waiting for the sign that the world was ending
But then I got up and walked away
I walked down the block and turned a corner
And turned back to find my car
I got in and drove back to the mountains
50My Mother Lately
Jillian Peterson
Lately my mom’s eyes are solemn,
vibrant blue now dismal stone.
Lately my mom is tired
from trying to hide her fears,
trying to stay hopeful.
I know-
I can see her spinning, overworked mind
Trying to fix the past, spur
The progression of the future.
There is no hurt like the broken
Heart of a mother. Her happy mask falls
Apart every time the phone rings,
every morning when he won’t get out of bed.
My sisters and I distract her
with our busy lives and constant needs,
but it is never enough to bring her back
to the way she was before.
She knows she can’t prevent it,
a slow disease.
It outsmarts us,
and more importantly outsmarts him.
The doctors say it’s not contagious,
but how can you look at my mother,
permanently sunken in defeat
and say my brother’s burden is not shared?
His depression,
a mutual suffering.
51Jacob Severens 52
The Most Significant Grain of Sand
Spencer Welland
If you do some math,
You will find that there are roughly
Seven quintillion, five hundred quadrillion,
Grains of sand on the earth.
That is seven with one five and eighteen zeros behind it.
But there is one grain
That has the audacity to think it matters.
There is one grain that
Out of all the grains
Thinks it has the chance to make a difference.
It doesn’t exactly know what that difference is yet,
But when it finds that particular crevice to get in,
That particular person to stick to,
Or that particular gust of wind
To get picked up and blown into someone’s eye,
It feels like it will know what to do.
53Tinker Bell
Adam Gast
Tik tok tik tok.
It’s all Hook hears.
As he searches for
the one he fears.
The alligator follows close
waiting for his next meal.
Peter Pan hides
with the lost boys
in the woods. It wasn’t much
Having fun, of a fight.
like little boys should. After all it was
men against boys.
Tinker Bell finds love
in the wrong place, The gator was fed.
and is quick to give
up secrets just to Hook raised his head.
keep him happy. With a smirk for the dead.
Hook sets sail, And all thanks to Tink,
and with Tink Hook will never
by his side. have to think of
He is sure that dreaded tik tok
he won’t fail. again.
Within hours Hook arrives.
Thrill in his eyes.
He and his crew
creep up like thieves do.
Caught by surprise.
Peter tries to fly,
but Hook follows with
a not so fast.
54Plans
Hannah Price
“What do you want to
do with your
Human and Community
Service Degree?”
“I plan to save the little prince or princess from the evil stepparent
That locks them up in the tower for long amounts of time and slowly tortures them
Through beatings and starvation
Or through the lack of love and education.”
“I plan to be the last saving grace for the soul who never had it
The one person who will listen to them while their shouting into the wind
The person they can lean on when every bone in their body collapses from the weight
of
the entire universe
I plan to be the person who is there when they make the life altering decision
To step away from that ledge, release that trigger, flush those pills, or to put down that
blade.”
“For once in my damn life
I’m going to make someone proud of me
I am going to prove everyone wrong
I’m going to prove the high school teacher who said I wouldn’t amount to nothing
wrong
I’m going to prove the dance instructor I had freshman year wrong
I’m going to prove my mother wrong and not grow up to be like her
I am going to graduate from this place, with this degree.”
“Honestly, I don’t fucking know.”
It’s okay to just not fucking know sometimes...
55Daniel Kiser
Annoyed
Andy Ngo
This man, boy if I could,
I'd smack him and teach him how to live his life,
But, instead he'd rather be misunderstood.
He smiles and changes his persona to fit in,
He is fake,
He lies to himself and others to get away.
He'd rather help others than help himself.
He wishes he can cry, swear it to be so hard but doesn’t realize he can
Just not the way he thinks
He surrounds himself around others who he believes can change his demeanor.
His friends want to hang out and he makes them think he is eager.
His presence, the way he walks, talks, the way he takes a seat, and the way he
stands,
All to show he knows he knows what he wants and isn’t afraid.
Truth is, he is really afraid. He doesn’t know what he wants.
Indecisive, unsure.
Everything a facade.
He says he wants to help others achieve their goals
And yet he doesn’t even know where to find his road.
Music displays a person’s personality pretty well,
Toss that out the window because with him you wouldn’t even be able to tell.
He listens to music a lot and does appreciate music but uses that to hide his true
self.
His heart is scarred, it aches for some kind of attention.
He knows he needs help but doesn’t ask for it.
I'm annoyed,
Why is he like this?
He wants salvation. He seeks it. But yet denies it.
Just off yourself dammit.
I'm annoyed...why am I like this?
56Flowering Soul
Morgan Musumeci
few are not bound
to constraints of this world
constant struggle
against the grain
starvation of individuality
for the sake of sustainability
so many deprived
suffering with dullness and normalcy
conformity is demanded by society
rejected only by the Strong
many are not strong
they cave and bend
a special flower
is required to break the mold
beauty in the difference
lone blossom
striving for light
the singular Sunflower
in a field of kudzu
demanding to be recognized
fighting simply to be
never change little Sunflower
you are what you yearn for.
57Cantos 2020 Team
Hollis Miller
Editor
Caroline Sweeter
Assistant Editor
Editorial Board
Jenna Foster
Sarah Helfert
Ashley Hinson
Alexis Romero
Mason Strother
Kelyn Thornton
Faculty Advisors
Dr. Dale Bailey
Dr. Julie Voss
Design Assistance
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