Untitled
He shuts the driver’s side door of his 2010 Mercedes Benz e-class sedan with relative force and begins walking towards the trunk. The trunk pops open so promptly to the touch of a button that Roger Biglen imagines it somehow anticipated the action. After all, to call his morning routine predictable would be an understatement. With briefcase in hand Roger gently lowers the trunk, lets gravity take its course, and begins to walk towards his building.
Pull A Few Flowers
Pull a few flowers to make your path
with love and attention the route made will last.
engage in destruction and playing the game
and the fun will soon vanish as your lost in a maze
Five Excuses
“Think of five excuses you would use for incomplete homework” The teacher boomed. “Then write it down”
Apparently this was supposed to be a fun assignment, but it wasn’t. It was as boring as it was pointless. But I was a kid, I didn’t really think of why we were told to do it, I didn’t see the point to anything we did; I had learned to just do it.
Untitled
Photography by Lakyn Barton The closest thing to our shape is the shadow like impression the summer sidewalk scorched together. The only warmth I feel from your body, the lambent lights from seedy bars you said that we should someday enter, But never did. Now all I have is the impressions of your pen; The [...]
Roots for Growth
The work of anthropologist Maria Gimbutas, whose discoveries of certain characteristics from the Neolithic Period led to the construction of the ‘myth of feminist pre-history,’ has been continuously criticized in the anthropological community. She argues that a matriarchal society once existed in Neolithic Europe, where work division and rights were egalitarian and all deities worshipped were female or mother goddesses.
Kliptown
Established in 1891, Kliptown is the oldest part of Soweto, a southwestern township in South Africa. The local market remains strongly rooted in its historical origins and cultural practices.
Uprooted
Tangled up in sheets,
just like the roots of trees
sunk below the surface to a
world full of rodents, bugs and mud,
we found ourselves happy there.
Thank You Grace
Lately I’ve been really fascinated by fashion. I never used to care much about clothes; I’d pick up some things that I thought looked nice or appropriate, and that was that. More recently though, I’ve felt a shift; longer pauses at my closet, more poses in front of the mirror, and a slightly more daring attitude when putting an outfit together. I think it’s partly due to spending most of my time with people who are really interested in fashion, but it’s also due in large part to the documentary The September Issue.
Fruits Not Roots
As I sit here trying to verbalize
and conceptualize,
and somewhat open my eyes,
to the concept of “roots”, I draw a blank.
The Root of the Problem
What’s the root of the problem?
And where, can I find a solution?
The appetite of global hunger
can be satisfied by a dive
into the underwater caves of
Eastern Mexico.
Life Starts Loudly, Ends Quietly
Did you see the newspaper headline today?
It read, “Life starts loudly, ends quietly”
It made me think of you
It made me think of that photograph of you that hangs on the wall in your wine cellar
You are laying in the grass, gaping smile, sunlight streaming into your squinting eyes
Where Is Home
Let’s discuss the meaning of the word patriotism.
I would like to suggest two suitable synonyms for the English meaning of this powerful word: love and devotion. In fact, to be patriotic, according to the Oxford English Dictionary is to possess a “marked devotion to the well-being [i.e. love] and interests of one’s country.” In other words, to be a patriot, you must show love and devotion to your country. Rather vague terms, wouldn’t you agree?
A Flapper from Chapleau
James Rose is a bad bad man
Mustachioed, bowtied, firm jawed
Villain of Chapleau
A rail man, a hard-working man, keeping
Sugar lumps and cream at table
For tea, pennies in a Mason jar
Forty three, nimble and spry
Love Perfected in the 21st Century
They all sat on miserable sofas…in the miserable sitting room…of Kelly’s decaying, attic apartment. By miserable, Heather only meant modern, but modern sofas were synonymous with miserable in Heather’s opinion. The acute angles and anorexic cushions, which comprised and stretched themselves across Kelly’s contemporary furniture, never persuaded Heather’s traditional tastes.
Conquer Love
I have dreamt of you in passing moments. I have relished you in memories now faded, maybe never true. And always you have left me; hand slips from my grip and your back slowly moves from my vision into the darkness of never again. And always I am crying; tears drip off my face, fall uselessly to the ground and gather around my naked feet. I am no child, I am no woman, I am no one…
It’s An Island
Everyone loves to complain about love. It is glamorous to be miserable in love, skeptical or commitment-phobic. It’s sexy to have affairs while tied to a cold spouse. Even better to be that romantic vagabond uselessly searching for the one with whom to rest their soul.
Ode to a Culinary Delight
Food this delicious I have yet to taste,
The texture of each bite cannot be matched.
A dish so good cannot be ate in haste,
And be warned, because it may be snatched.
Wwoofing
Every part of my being was telling me not to go. I was broke and feeling uninspired and the last thing I wanted was to spend my vacation organic farming on some stranger’s farm. However, in wintery months I told my sister that sounded like a fantastic idea, and I would love to go with her and that I would. Even though my mother didn’t raise me a Catholic, I think guilt must run in the bloodline, and we went.
Food Allergies on Campus
Last week, I had a ravenous craving for a brownie. You know the feeling: the willingness to kill for something with chocolate in it. It hit me in the middle of the Concourse. I was with a friend at the time, who passionately decided to join my quest (chocolate cravings can be contagious, you see). He said “Excellent! The Second Cup is still open!” But I had to stop his mad-dash and explain that this was a mission that was not for the easily-swayed. It would be long and tedious, and probably wouldn’t end with any brownies at all. You see, I’m allergic to peanuts.
Potatoes and Broken Hearts
Breakups and food: the two seem to be made for each other. Some of us reach for the sweet with the ice cream and the cake, while others gravitate towards the salty; a nice combination of plain potato chips dipped in a bunch of Hellava’ Good. Trust me: if it weren’t so great, they wouldn’t call it Hellava’.
Bereft
A dinner tray is set before me.
Wow…this is it, is it?
Propped up in a hospital bed, against a mound of pillows, life gradually bleeding away from me, and this is what I receive for supper? I am an old woman, to be sure, who smoked incessantly, and quite stubbornly, for years…
Savouring the Sight
The lush texture of pleasure,
A divine, overwhelming sensation.
As your tempted lips smile
Your taste buds prepare you.
The taste could be sweet,
The taste could be bitter,
But what your eyes want
Is the image in front of you.
Foodie Over Easy
I’ve been called a foodie many times, which at times makes me concerned. Yes, I love to cook. I love to share recipes. I head the Culinary Arts Club on campus. I indulge more then a skinny little Asian girl should. Nonetheless, the amateur foodie is a misunderstood title. The usual suspect is someone who loves food, but everyone loves food! It takes more than just a love for food to be a foodie: it takes a relentless passion.
Ode to My Favourite Food
First – the green tape
Sealing the deal of my favourite meal, it is usually found other places
Namely, drifting side to side under the sea
This is the glue that holds it all together
Here it plays a necessary role
Here it is the foundation
Next – the white
Like a mattress atop a bed frame, it is the support

