Selected Works, 2020 edition
Curl Power
​
England Blye
Sitting down outside. Hair blowing in the wind.
One curl wrapped around in one hand,
Afro pick in the other.
I can feel the oil from my hair
Causing the curls to slide down ever so slightly.
How blessed am I? To have this curly crown on my head.
Different cultures blessed with their own kind of crown.
In the womb, by my parents’ genes I was endowed with the right
To curl. My endowed ethnic right was to let my kinky curls fly.
Who’s to say what I can and cannot do? I am proud of my ethnicity.
Where I come from we trod boldly on any ground wearing our hair
Any which way we see fit. From braids, to dreads, to twists.
My hair is a part of me. It shows who I am without flaw.
I am not my hair; my hair is me.
​
Soft Quilts
Sierra Bickett
I walk in and immediately smell rich chocolate and cinnamon,
I see my grandmother’s wrinkled hands grabbing milk and glasses.
I am home.
Warmth envelops me
kissing my cold cheeks,
golden light softly shines from glass lamps,
I run my pale hands along soft quilts.
My racing heart slows to a soft,
thump, thump, thump
My grandmother turns around,
smiling a close-lipped
dimpled smile,
with only room for love in her eyes.
​
drowning
​
Betta Kim
my ragdoll body thumps;
hit by the Ocean on a hot summer night,
woken from sweet dreams.
holding me under was the strength of
a Thousand Wise men,
hot water surrounds me.
i know how to swim,
but this current’s too strong.
i feel like i’m drowning.
the Ocean grips my submerged head.
pulling up on my hair before
pushing me back below the current
trapped under a blanket of heat,
am i sweating?
or is it just the Ocean around me?
my vision spots;
i’m surrounded by darkness
why can’t i move?
the Ocean’s choking me,
gagging and suffocating.
i can’t breathe.
my lungs burning from lack of oxygen,
my arms weary from trying to escape,
my legs worn from kicking
a husky whisper freezes my thoughts.
i hear the Ocean’s growl,
“Stop pushing. Stop fighting.”
i’m forced to relax;
tears clinging to my flushed cheeks,
as i drink the salty water.
​
Youth
​
Katie Hardwick
Serenity is lying on your back in unmowed grass
staring at the expanse of sky above you. The sky is not nearly
as wide here as it is on the highway. Here in the holler, hills close
in on you from every side. On the open highway, the sky
is wide enough to swallow you whole, but here, it has no such power.
it's comforting. The hills envelope you, a barrier against the world's harshness.
You rise. A few strides and you are on the banks of the creek.
The sun burns against your skin. Running water offers immediate relief.
This creek is far too shallow for anything to make its home,
except for the crawdads. You've spent many afternoons hunting
them for fish bait. If you wanted to find bigger fish, you'd follow this creek
into the woods, where it feeds into a much wider stream.
That isn't an adventure for today, you know, as you hear
the sound of your name carried in the wind.
You sprint across the stretch of green earth,
to the back door of your grandparents' house.
It's burnin' up out there , Mama says, ya need to stay in a while .
She's right, of course, but giving up your adventure
doesn't come without regret. This is remedied
with a fudge bar and an episode of your favorite cartoon.
Today, you are young; the world within these woods is endless.
​
​
​
The Puzzle
​
Jenny Bruner
One afternoon, as Edward Jonson was rummaging through his belongings in his attic, he came across a jigsaw puzzle that he had no recollection of buying. Perhaps it was one of many toys that he had bought for his son, or perhaps his wife had bought it to pass the time. Whatever the case, it was not his and had to be put into one of the boxes his wife had lent him. She made it quite clear that she wanted all of her and their son’s belongings out of his house by the end of the week. Edward looked around him. Clothes, toys, and other miscellaneous things were strewn across the wooden floor. Normally, the attic was neat with everything in their respective chests, but running this errand for the past three days had drained Edward and left him with nothing but a feeling of frustration and exhaustion that seeped into the muscles of his arms and chest. He combed his hand through his brown hair and tried to wipe away the wrinkles on his white button-up shirt. He couldn’t muster the energy or the want to place his belongings back into its well-kept places, and the attic now had a wispy cloud of dust that floated everywhere and captured the light from the small window into a beam.
​
“I need a break,” Edward said to himself, feeling rather apathetic to this task that never seemed to end. He looked at the box in his hands. The box showed signs of wear with its weak corners and occasional rips in the cardboard. There were no fancy designs or words, but instead had the etchings of jigsaw pieces against a solid brown background. He never did like jigsaw puzzles, but it was a better option than sifting through his wife’s and son’s belongings. He climbed down the attic steps to the main floor of his house. It was bright and spacious, with glossy wooden floors and decorated with the some of the newest appliances.
​
He passed by the rooms where framed certificates and pictures of his wife and child hung on the walls. Pictures of the past looked back at him. Smiling employees frozen in frames celebrated his company’s success with him throughout the years. In the back corner sat an old dusty photograph of him and his old business partner in front of his new business on opening day. In other photographs, his wife smiled warmly as her curly blonde hair caught a breeze. There were plenty of pictures of his son with his bright eyes and playing with whatever he had found that day. He had his father’s brown hair, but his mother’s curls. Occasionally, on some corner or countertop, there would be a box with his wife’s belongings.
​
“I can’t believe her,” he mumbled to himself. “She lived in such a nice house, I gave her the nicest things, and now she repays me by leaving me.”
​
He went into his study, or his “office” as his son often referred to it, and set the puzzle down on his desk before making himself comfortable in his leather chair. He noted that there wasn’t a reference picture on the box, which he found was curious since puzzles always had these things. He supposed that this was to make things a bit harder for the player. He couldn’t help but feel a small curious thrill at the challenge. He opened the box, dumped out all the pieces, and sifted through them to start a plan of action.
​
He furrowed his eyebrows. These were blank pieces. He picked through them one by one, flipping them over as he went, but every single one of the pieces were completely white.
​
“Well, that’s weird,” he muttered. “Must have been a defect.”
​
He sifted through them again to see if there was any sense to be made, and it wasn’t too long until he found two pieces that fit together. He had to admit, he did feel proud of himself of finding a connection without a reference to go by. He decided to see how far he could go before he got bored. Surely this wouldn’t be too hard to complete. He continued to examine the small pieces, occasionally finding a match, and making small clusters of connected pieces. Before long, he had a handful of small clusters that didn’t quite fit with each other just yet. But at this point, he didn’t see what the end goal could be. It seemed pointless, and he felt rather silly at humoring the idea. He found another piece that fit, and for the sake of it, placed it neatly to where it belonged in one of the clusters.
​
Suddenly, a flash of color appeared onto those white pieces. Edward blinked hard and leaned closer to make sure what he saw was true. Sure enough, there were colors appearing ever so faintly onto the connected pieces. It was so subtle that he couldn’t tell what the images were, but there was enough indication that there was something to be seen. He was flabbergasted. This couldn’t be possible! He looked at the box, inside and all around, to see if he missed an explanation. He tried to wrap his head as to what this meant. He stared at the pieces and, after a few minutes, couldn’t contain his curiosity any longer and returned to sorting through the blank pieces. As he did so, he wondered what image the puzzle could possibly show when it was completed. Maybe it would be a generic picture. Perhaps it would reveal a wonder of the past or a vision of the future. He began to find pieces that fit together, and the colors and shapes became more defined with each piece that was added. There was some enchantment in this puzzle, that was for sure, so it was quite possible that whatever the puzzle had to show had to be something grand. The path to success? The answer to life? He had to find out.
​
He diligently went through the scattered pieces over and over again, putting piece to piece only to find that they didn’t fit most of the time. He continued on this tedious task with the upmost vigor. And finally, when he completed a corner, did the images become distinguishable and started to move. Edward leaned closer in astonishment. It was a person, no, two people, but he couldn’t make out their faces. There was still a blurriness to the image, but it was clear that there was an interaction happening between these two, and the longer he watched, the more he noticed an itch in the back of his mind. Something about this reminded him of something, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
​
He continued his search in hopes of discovering what new things the puzzle had to offer. Time passed. The sun drew closer to the tops of the trees that were lined across the street. School buses drove by ready to return kids to their homes. His phone rang in the kitchen, but he didn’t bother to pick it up. He was too preoccupied with the task in front of him. Another chunk of the puzzle began to form, and with it another image different from the first. Again, there were two people in the image, but this time it was that of a man and a child. The man looked like one of the men from the first image, and upon further inspection, realized why it seemed so familiar to him.
​
“It can’t be,” he whispered. “That was many years ago.” Yet there in front of him, moving on the connected puzzle pieces, was the last conversation he ever had with his business partner. He was a good friend in his younger years. He had helped start the business that Edward now owned by himself. When the success was starting to take off, Edward had felt that his friend didn’t match his ambition and would keep the business from reaching its full potential. So, after pulling a few strings behind his back, Edward took his partner’s ownership of the company away so he couldn’t make decisions that would muddle his future plans of prosperity. Edward offered to keep him as a high-ranking employee, but his friend gave him an earful of a lifetime before leaving the building for good. He never heard from him again.
​
The memory of that event came flooding back to him, and he could hear clearly in his mind the words of his friend about how the success he sought would be too much for them to handle, how it was going to cost more than money to keep that much maintenance going, that he was asking too much too quickly. But Edward wanted certainty in his life, that he would always have the means to support himself and his family, and that he could enjoy the luxuries life had to offer. He couldn’t make his friend see that.
​
Edward felt a tense feeling. He hadn’t thought of that event in a long time. He looked at the pieces in front of him, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to stop now. He figured out a portion of the picture and it only strengthen his thirst to find the answer. Slowly, surely, bit by bit, the other clusters and images were beginning to flourish in front of him. He saw the man with the boy turn into him and his son where, one afternoon, Edward was one the phone arguing with someone while his son had been trying to tell him about a bully he was facing in school. He had called about a defect in the design of his new car and didn’t pay much attention to what his son was saying.
​
“It’s an easy fix,” Edward had told him. “Just toughen up and he’ll leave you alone.”
​
He looked at the other pieces in front of him. Remnants of forms faintly danced around here and there. Echoes of voices whispered in the back of his mind, all inaudible, all running together, like shiny stones at the bottom of a murky river.
​
What could be the meaning of this? What answer could this possibly hold? He sorted through the pieces again, but now with tension in his fingers. His breathing became shallower as the entire puzzle began to take shape. The clusters were fitting together now to form whole corners and entire edges, and more forms sprang up because of it. His eyes, now alert, darted quickly across his desk, searching, hardly blinking. A dreadful sinking feeling weighed deep in his chest and it grew with each piece he fitted together. Memories of the past came alive before him: friends he left behind, his brother he berated and disowned for needing rehab, his mother he had thrown in a nursing home when his father died, his son who could never get his attention because he was too busy working in his office, his wife who tried so hard to have the family have quality time together, but could never seem to catch her husband at the right time.
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Images of her came to life before him. He watched as she tried to pull him out of his office, but he always insisted that he was too busy. He watched as she made home cooked meals only to have to put his portion in the fridge for later. He watched as his wife came home tired from work at the clinic and spend most evenings alone and had to keep herself amused with the new phone, the new clothes, the latest appliances he kept giving her.
​
“So work was interesting today,” she said one time at dinner.
​
“That’s good to hear, dear,” he replied. He then spent the next ten minutes talking about his day. He never did let her explain her day.
​
“There’s this new movie I’ve been wanting to see coming out this Friday and I’d like it if we all went out and enjoy the afternoon together. We could go eat at the new restaurant afterwards, too.”
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He sighed. “I can’t go. A meeting came up for this Friday afternoon.”
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“But sweetie,” she insisted, “it’s been so long since we all went out together.”
​
“I’ve been tired as of late,” he replied. “I don’t like to work this much either, but I want to make sure the bills are paid and that Joseph has plenty of funds for the future. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
​
Edward didn’t recall doing so, and his wife went to the cinema with Joseph while he worked. His wife, his darling Linda, who always gave him support, who gave him the gifts he wanted, who gave him love and affection, and he repaid her by never being by her side.
​
At last, there was only a few pieces left, but all the excitement, all the curiosity, abandoned him completely. There was a gaping hole in its place. The sun was past the trees now, but what light shone through pierced its rays directly into his window. The golden yellow beams speared its way into his room, filling every crevice and corner, and the side of Edward’s face burned from its intensity like how one is blinded from an interrogation lamp. He swallowed hard. His fingers trembled as he slowly, hesitantly, began to complete the puzzle. His figure began to take form. There was no one else. Piece by piece, the hole in the middle of the puzzle closed in. No one else was appearing. He was hardly moving. It was just him in the middle of all these memories.
​
And finally, he picked the final piece that felt heavy in his hand and set it in the exact middle where it belonged. Everything faded away. The puzzle started to shine as a silvery surface glossed over. In the afternoon light, he clearly saw his own reflection, with all those memories underneath, of him staring back at himself, in the silence, with nothing but despair and shame weighing in his heart, and the light glistening in his eyes.
​
There was silence for a long time. He didn’t move or speak. He merely watched himself as the devastating silence crushed him. No footsteps from Joseph running in the halls or humming from Linda coming from the living room. He had pushed everyone away. The ticking of the clock was his only companion now. He swallowed hard. He knew what he had to do. He had to try. He immediately left his office, grabbed his keys, and rushed out of the house to see Linda. The sun was below the horizon now and warm colors danced across the sky just as the first stars began to appear.