Unclassified Entries _ Images: a meditation toBerlioz‘ _T_e. Deum' Floods of thunder smomded me. The earth trembled beneath m feet. My eyes felt as thwgh'they were open and yet I could see nothing but darkness. Then the light penetrated m vision and all at once I could see light. Light of such... Show moreUnclassified Entries _ Images: a meditation toBerlioz‘ _T_e. Deum' Floods of thunder smomded me. The earth trembled beneath m feet. My eyes felt as thwgh'they were open and yet I could see nothing but darkness. Then the light penetrated m vision and all at once I could see light. Light of such brightness that it reflected only light. Above and all around me I felt the over-‘- whelming sensation of'greatness. There was a feeling of triumph in the air. It choked me. I could not speak. I heard the thunderous sounds and yet could not distinguish them. The sounds were like those of a mighty organ. I leaked down and saw that I was clad in a black shadow. There was nowhere for me to hide m shadow of darkness for the light was far too bright. W hands were damp and limp. The chill of m shadow permeated w existence and yet to say that I felt the chill was to speak an untruth. I was alone. _ Mingled with the powerful "thunder I suddenly recog- nized the chanting of voices. The strength of the voices indicated a multitude. Yet there was something strange. I could not distinguish male or female qualities in the voices. It became a meaning, casting darkness, covering the pro-existing light. Then came the blackness. Nothing but blackness. ‘ I stood erect, almost paralyzed in awe and fear. Ebrpectancy was my fear. stillness was my fear. Dark- ness was my fear. Voidness was my fear. Then, in the flash of what could have been a century came the faint strains of sunlight. It came toward me. It formed a pathway for me and'I was ounpelled to move. My reason was not free. I did not know why I moved in the direction of the pathway. 23 Show less
night air, the chill of early autumn and the misty haze of midnight. The breeze can gently blow a tendril of hair, a wisp of golden hair across her smooth white temple. I exposed her thus. And now I would desecrate the holiness of her dead body, tear the jewels from her still fingers, take her... Show morenight air, the chill of early autumn and the misty haze of midnight. The breeze can gently blow a tendril of hair, a wisp of golden hair across her smooth white temple. I exposed her thus. And now I would desecrate the holiness of her dead body, tear the jewels from her still fingers, take her rightful gifts? I must be mad.‘ Forgive, help me, God! What is happening? Do I leave my senses, or does she move? Does she stir as if in sleep? Her eyelashes flutter slightly. A sigh begins to start deep with- in her----No! No! It cannot be. In disbelief I cower behind a tree, its bare shadows casting grotesque images upon the grey earth. I stand rooted there and from the yawning cavern of her grave she rises, clothed in her virgin garments, white against the blackness. She looks about with wondering calm eyes; the mystery in their depths shrouded by concern. Surely she can see me! Half-hidden behind the scanty curtain of branches, while the moon continues ‘ in her game,.now glowing bright, now disappearing behind the streaked clouds that veil the all-seeing sky. ' ' A dream, a horror; yet I cannot wake myself. I creep along the ground to the empty open tomb, and feverishly fill in the disturbed soil. I dare not think; I cannot face myself. ‘ When the first tint of dawn comes, its purple and crimson rays relighting to reality the mystical world of the darkness, I come again to consciousness, still clutching in stiff fingers the handle of my spade. ‘ v * * * ' "Jacque, Jacque, hear the joyful news!" My companions accost me as I stumble into the village again, the strangeness still upon me, blinking as a mole unaccus- tomed to the light of day. ' \"She is not dead, our lady is not dead! It was only some foreign sleeping sickness which gave to her the ' appearance of death. It is a miracle. She has awakened! It is a miracle of God!" Naomi Christensen 1? Show less
Short Stories Susie The gunnesim was miserably quiet. The most audible sounds were those of the excited fast breathing of the players and the thu-rmnp - thuo-rump - thu-rump of the ball’being baunced on’the floor.‘ It was a raw-snowy, gloomy, dark night outside,‘but when a person stepped inside... Show moreShort Stories Susie The gunnesim was miserably quiet. The most audible sounds were those of the excited fast breathing of the players and the thu-rmnp - thuo-rump - thu-rump of the ball’being baunced on’the floor.‘ It was a raw-snowy, gloomy, dark night outside,‘but when a person stepped inside the gymnasium door, he felt ' a warm closeness with the stench of human body odor. There was light insideu-that is, all the light that the five rows of light could give. But if one ' were to Just stand inside the door in the entrance, he would think there were only a few people in the building-manually there were about two hundred. This was the night of the championship basketball game between the girls of Midville High and those of Cushingham High. One of the forwards of the Midville team was at ' the free throw line preparing to shoot for a basket. Thqu - thu-rump - thu—rmp-dhese girls usually seemed to bounce the ball three times before shoot- ing. They usually made their shots, too. Janie, the No. five guard of the Midville team, was the person responsible for the try at another baskets-she seemed to draw‘fouls like honey does flies. The game goes on... ' Susie, a forward for our Cushingham team, was ' sitting next to me on'the bench. ~"Look, she said, "Just look at that No. five guard. Did you see what she did to Margie? She really wrapped her legs around the poor girl like a'worm. Margie just couldn't move. Boy-olet me in there, I'd really fix that guard. She wouldn't wrap her legs around me like that." 3 Show less
evil spirits came and took the very little child of yours. Now they have come and taken another. Do you wish that they shall come to take the only one that yet remains? It is your affair that Malata is no more. You refused to appease the evil spirits when they took Alietti. It is sufficient that... Show moreevil spirits came and took the very little child of yours. Now they have come and taken another. Do you wish that they shall come to take the only one that yet remains? It is your affair that Malata is no more. You refused to appease the evil spirits when they took Alietti. It is sufficient that you knew better than that. You are a man of great wisdom and great wealth. Are you not the hand of the great white doctor? But your wisdom does not surpass that of the spirits. No, child, their wisdom and their power surpasses that of you, and it is sufficient for you to offer gifts to them. Let us give you the cloths of mourning, let us with a knife that surpasses sharpness remove all the hairs from your head. Then let you only place this king pole into the ground for the altar of the spirits. That is all you must do, the rest remains for us. We will build it, but they will truly know that you fear them, and they will truly know that you honor them." "Be quiet a little, my mother! Stop this noise, my _ friends! Sit where you are, there are some words I must tell you." He drew his aged mother-in-law before him, and with his hands on her shoulders and his eyes glued to hers, he spoke to her all gathered: "My mother! My brothers: You are all thinking you have left the life of the heathen finished. You men, you wear clothes beautiful, and drive bicycles that shine. You are thinking you have much wisdom, you are thinking you have left the gods in your villages, but in my great sorrow, you are trying to bring them back to me, because you can find no one else to give you any wisdom. But I have a helper. He onhy gave to me and Katalina three girl children, and He only has taken Alietti and Malata. But they are not gone for always. They are in the big village of God. One day, I will walk with them in God's garden and then God will let us remain together every day. He 1et.me know from his words tonight, 'Let it be that your heart will not be troubled with sorrow. I am making ready a place for 9 Show less
An Episcopal Service of the Mass Minesenpow‘pmpms worshippers Ceasekasly'chsnting, drawing oblatim, Tovearn'by labor that which love confers. Bobbing at every word like soul-less willows Kneeling in great humility on velvet pillows, Watching the antics of the priestly mission In funeral garb and... Show moreAn Episcopal Service of the Mass Minesenpow‘pmpms worshippers Ceasekasly'chsnting, drawing oblatim, Tovearn'by labor that which love confers. Bobbing at every word like soul-less willows Kneeling in great humility on velvet pillows, Watching the antics of the priestly mission In funeral garb and futile repetition. The blessed bartender is beckoning... ' The stench of liquor: holy addicts all! Like whited sepulchres the daylight shunning, Painting themselves with crossings and lament, Fancying themselves palmers penitent. Mth costumed imagery in prestaged role They mock at God and charge the hellish toll. * * *- Come fellow Christians, creep before the cross! Bow law. No ridicule or shame to dread, They will not snicker. Here observe no loss 0f self-cognition when you genuflect And kneel; nor need you timorouSly expect To hear your amen echo isolated. The priest in vested dignity breaks bread ' And spills the sacred wine upon your pride, Staining its starched decor. The pungent scent Shall pierce and purge and purify inside. With sacerdotal chanting join your plea. The outmd sign, the cross, the lower'd knee, Shall go unseen, for every head is bent, And God alone determines the intent. Mary Dom-en 20 Show less
fold her close to himself...press her soft breasts against his heart...rub her smooth cheek against his own rough one...muss her hair a little and kiss her laughing lips--not passionately, just quietly, just to tell her how much he loved her. Celeste watched him coming and gathered up her coat... Show morefold her close to himself...press her soft breasts against his heart...rub her smooth cheek against his own rough one...muss her hair a little and kiss her laughing lips--not passionately, just quietly, just to tell her how much he loved her. Celeste watched him coming and gathered up her coat and gloves. He-was so precious, and such a gentleman! She smiled as she thought how he never would let her put on her coat without his help. Now they would go home to their wonderful house and she would fix-~tonight-—creamed tuna, because it was so late. She was so proud that she could cook well. She was quite sure that she made a very good wife. It was like watching her Prince Charming coming. Now he ought to take her in his arms and kiss her. His hand was on her shoulder now. He was going to kiss her. But it was like that night,_that awful night. He was sick again! mama said, "Don't get too close to any man, dear." If only mama were here she'd make him stop! Celeste felt a great piercing cry tear her throat and heard it echo and re-echo through the church. Wildly she tore herself free and cowered, animal-like, under a pew, whimpering and sobbing. Craig groaned and stood watching, help- less, afraid to move. He knew that he had lost her. Mary Doren The Two White Horses Beautiful, so beautiful, so white and still, so silent. So beautiful my numbed heart cannot accept your silence as eternal. Why do you not speak, why do you lie so cold and quiet? Where is the spark of life, the gentle rise and fall of your breast, the soft breathing? Has your warmth all fled? Way do I feel no pain, but Show less
Poetry Sleep Sweet—healing sleep comes Creeping in like soft fluttering of
Show morePoetry Sleep Sweet—healing sleep comes Creeping in like soft fluttering of <1er moth's wings Beating a soothing lullaby. anooth velvety darkness ' Swallows us up in violet petals, ' mile the flower of life slumbers. The spirit is silent In the breast of the blossom Now sealed in sleep. Nami Christensen Awake Awake, self! Spring has come; the time of awakening. The ground lives The air breathes- only you remain sluggish and wielding. Awake to realization! Life begins anew and you are life 'And life is yours ‘ with all its promise Renew yourself in the strength of earth. Naani Christensen 18 Show less
you.‘ One day that place will be ready, that day Katalina, little Lutan and I and many others will go to that village beautiful, where all the houses will be pretty even as the white people's houses are pretty. I am with sorrow because Malata has left me, but my sorrow does not surpass me. One... Show moreyou.‘ One day that place will be ready, that day Katalina, little Lutan and I and many others will go to that village beautiful, where all the houses will be pretty even as the white people's houses are pretty. I am with sorrow because Malata has left me, but my sorrow does not surpass me. One day, I will see her again.“~ ' For a while no one spoke. Finally, Grandma, with large beads of perspiration pushing out from her furrowed brow broke the silence with a throaty cough. Placing her leathery hand on the shoulder of her son-in-law she said, "My child, truly those are words of wisdom. Teach me the road to the God of you." Ruby Nelson Eurydice ; Sonorous and full the great tones poured down upon her ears. The whole church, just now so imposingly still, had suddenly been rejuxenated by the throbbing music, beating its holy pulse upon the heavy ornate windows of the sanctuary. High to the left of the chancel the sunlight filtered through the emerald and cherry stain, spilling over the massive organ, playing like a quiet rainbow with the singing pipes and alighting gracefully, indiscriminately draping itself over the pews along the center aisle. Back in the shadows Celeste could outline the ebony cross which rose above the altar, and the Christ who stood and knocked at the door, and, imprisoned tut the oils of the canvas, waited forever. She wonderu1 ed idly what he would do if he were not so eternally ‘ restrained--would he go away when no one answered? Or would he try the door, and, finding it unlatched, lO Show less
and walked to the vacated lectern. There was a brief ' silence, punctuated by coughing, the rustling of notes, and a quick jittery smile from the lecturer. In a & dynamic manner he began (as best I can remember)— "Can any of you here,"-a reflective pause and then hurriedlyb-"recall that verse in ... Show moreand walked to the vacated lectern. There was a brief ' silence, punctuated by coughing, the rustling of notes, and a quick jittery smile from the lecturer. In a & dynamic manner he began (as best I can remember)— "Can any of you here,"-a reflective pause and then hurriedlyb-"recall that verse in "Genesis" where the Creator commissims wanan as MAN'S M (a look of intense frenzy mam into his face and the whole congregation gasped 'S CHIEF HEIPMATE AND SOLACE? CAN YOU? CAN YOU?" He pmmded the lectern and fairly screamed "but is it trot? Is it? no; No: Damn it it isn‘t! Wanan was made to be man's helpmate not his chief antagonist. In this case the verse is false and the reeverse is ‘ true: (Even in highly excited states certain people 1 can pun.) Listenl Three years ago I met what I } thought then was the'ideal wanan, Angela. She'was ; intelligent, sincere, virtuous, pretty, urbane, well- 1 read, a writer of sorts fran a well-bred family-null 1 the admirable qualitiesi" Suddenly he seized the ‘ side of the lectern and stared at us feverishly, but began slowly, "I had been introduced to her at an Enerson Day picnic on the Common in Boston. When our eyes first met on that sunmr day I knew instantly we were "Each in All." I began to court her. We wrote bright little essays to each other on Enerson. I sent her a volume of Carlyle. And she‘in turn wrote 1 for me some exquisite pantheistio poetry. What ‘ bliss!" Then he bent his head slowly, put his hands to his face and sobbed mauentarily-osudenly he threw his head up stiffly with tears streaming fran his eyes he began again,"1¢ourted her for three yearsunI proposed marriage only last Christmas. We were to be married tanorrow. We were (he sobbed again) to spend our honeymoon at Cambridge. Then late this afternoon I learned from an intimate friend of mine that she—she had betrayed me: (He manentarily lost control of himself, but he motioned beck someone who wanted to Essiet him.) "It seems she 2 I Show less
. the mechanical signs, the mbelievable'rushing of the people on their way hone from work, the previews of noise profusely stealing fran their dingy and crowded origins—all these sounds and mingled ingredients rushing madly to claim their place in the night air—each‘ of then taking their turn to... Show more. the mechanical signs, the mbelievable'rushing of the people on their way hone from work, the previews of noise profusely stealing fran their dingy and crowded origins—all these sounds and mingled ingredients rushing madly to claim their place in the night air—each‘ of then taking their turn to thrill the visitors; enclose the socialites, and bore me. Abova all this, I had heard the cab turn the corner. This was the proof to the whole world that I was a New Yorker. Joyce Birkeland "...and the last shall be first" The old man sighed as he straightened up. A trace of a smile crossed his lips as he looked out over the rolling green hills and saw the movement the breeze caused among the leaves of the ancient trees that offered refuge fran the hot sun in the garden. He bent down to pick up his tool, a pole with a nail on the end of it, and began to collect ‘ papers with it. When the end of the stick was full, he pushed the papers off into a large burlap bag whichwaslayingcnthe groundnearhim. After a while he stopped and pulled out his watch. "Well, half an hour before the next load of tourists. I'll have time to light up my pipe before the bus ptills'in." He seated himself on a huge rock, lit a match; and started puffing on his pipe. As he sat there, he looked around at this garden which had come tic be so important to him; so important in fact that he had taken this Job of keeping it clean even though he was a fine carpenter. lfls hand reached out and touched the rock on which he sat. "He might have sat on this rock or at least passed it on that 2 fateful marsday night scenery yem's ago." The old 2 Show less
This booklet is printed as part of the Creative Arts week activities at Angs- burg College. All entries are original work of people directly associated with Augsburg College. April, 1958.
CYCLE Rain falls Night falls Bird calls A barren song Tb the slim:slip of a virgin moon Moving untouched through cloud- stained space Tw1sted, sighing, Softly dying Down, down through sere leaves Song falls Rain falls- -Jean Harrison ~40~
MOST DISTRESSING There was a time that I could not think about it without feeling a distasteful- surge, wishing that I had never met her. But now, now that I can sit and reflect without any emotional involvement, I can see the moral and Spiritual good that has resurrected to life. Objectivity is... Show moreMOST DISTRESSING There was a time that I could not think about it without feeling a distasteful- surge, wishing that I had never met her. But now, now that I can sit and reflect without any emotional involvement, I can see the moral and Spiritual good that has resurrected to life. Objectivity is sometimes painful, even though it shouldn’t be according to many definitions. But, I am not the ordinary person with the simplicity of accepted feelings and reasons thereof. So I shall relate . . . . It was before Christmas and the office gang had gotten together for a drink, nothing excessive, just a small party. As we walked down Broadway looking for a suitable place for patronage, the dominant thought must have been one of con— tentment, You ask why I'm so sure . . . well, the answer is a simple one. We had just prior to this hour encountered our employer for our bimonthly reward. To add to our usual joy filled evening we had received a bonus for Christmas. The streets were all aglow with the usual pre—Christmas rushing: People with more money than time, and then of course there Were those like us who had more time than money . . . or shalll say we had time, but no desire to spend too much until those pretty "last minutes sales" signs appeared. After much deliberation and lengthy discussion we finally entered an estab— lishment . . . with a little imagination Imight even say it had character. We walked with determination, right past the cluttered barwithout even a cold stare. We were indeed proud of our successful attempt. After all we didn’t want anyone thinking our putpose was one of dissipation. After deciding quickly the waiter came, curtly asked for identification and, being satisfied disappeared into the adjoining room to fulfill our wishes. The lilting music was soothing to our wracked nervous conditions, effects of a busy and most frustrating day. Humming along with "Tan shoes and pink shoe— laces” gave us all the calming element we needed. Then, with the reappearance of our waiter we settled down to what we were anticipating to be a quiet evening. l7 Show less
