• Thoughts for Today  • Love\u27s Trilogy  • He\u27s My Mountain Now  • Activity  • Crazy River  • Seeyousoon  • Wild Stallion  • A Search  • Nest  • Depression  • Bait  • The Gentle Carpenter  • An Ode to Ralph  • Rain  • Memories  • Paranoiac Dreaming  • The Two Last People on Earth  • Brokedown Blues  • Francis Baconhttps://digitalcommons.ursinus.edu/lantern/1099/thumbnail.jp

Camiel, Nina

Cherry, Morris

Cook, Lindsley

Fox, William

Grumet, Judith

Hiltebeitel, Cheryl

Mittelbrunn, Michael

Park, John Kenneth

Spink, Mary

Sullivan, Jim

English

Ursinus College

Ursinus CollegeDigital Commons @ Ursinus CollegeThe Lantern Literary Magazines Ursinusiana CollectionWinter 1971The Lantern Vol. 38, No. 1, Winter 1971Cheryl HiltebeitelUrsinus CollegeJim SullivanUrsinus CollegeMorris CherryUrsinus CollegeNina CamielUrsinus CollegeJohn Kenneth ParkUrsinus CollegeSee next page for additional authorsFollow this and additional works at: https://digitalcommons.ursinus.edu/lanternPart of the Fiction Commons, Illustration Commons, Nonfiction Commons, and the PoetryCommonsClick here to let us know how access to this document benefits you.This Book is brought to you for free and open access by the Ursinusiana Collection at Digital Commons @ Ursinus College. It has been accepted forinclusion in The Lantern Literary Magazines by an authorized administrator of Digital Commons @ Ursinus College. For more information, pleasecontact aprock@ursinus.edu.Recommended CitationHiltebeitel, Cheryl; Sullivan, Jim; Cherry, Morris; Camiel, Nina; Park, John Kenneth; Grumet, Judith; Fox, William; Park, JohnKenneth; Mittelbrunn, Michael; Spink, Mary; and Cook, Lindsley, "The Lantern Vol. 38, No. 1, Winter 1971" (1971). The LanternLiterary Magazines. 98.https://digitalcommons.ursinus.edu/lantern/98AuthorsCheryl Hiltebeitel, Jim Sullivan, Morris Cherry, Nina Camiel, John Kenneth Park, Judith Grumet, WilliamFox, John Kenneth Park, Michael Mittelbrunn, Mary Spink, and Lindsley CookThis book is available at Digital Commons @ Ursinus College: https://digitalcommons.ursinus.edu/lantern/98Cover Desjqn: LEA V ES by ROGER N. BALDWIN , ~ f ( , \ /r-/ ;7 -C. JOY WILLIAMS . , I , / " • i , v r ) j . j , THE LANTERN 1971-1972 Co-Editors: Cheryl Hiltebeitel Corol Wasserman StaH: Kevin Akey Gail Boyd David Gates Rob Hanlon Molly Keirn Trish Massolini Linda Mills Ken Park Jane Shepherd Kim Tilley Tutti THE LANTERN WINTER 1971-1972 ThOUg h ts for Toda y Cheryl Hiltebeitel 2 Love's Trilogy lim Sullivan 3 Poems Millsey 4 Poem Morris Cherry 4 He's My Mountain Now Nina Camiel 6 activity John Kenneth Park 8 Crazy River Morris Cherry 8 Seeyousoon Millsey 9 Wild Stall ion Jim Sullivan 9 a search John Kenneth Park II Poem Cheryl Hiltebeitel 12 Poem Millsey 12 Nest Judith Grumet 13 Poem kis 14 Depression Nina Camiel 17 Bait William Fox 18 The Gentle Carpenter Morris Cherry 19 an ode to ralph John Kenneth Park 19 Ram Nina Camiel 20 Poem Millsey 22 memones John Kenneth Park 22 Paranoiac Dreaming Michael Mittelbrunn 23 The Two Last People on Earth Nina Camiel 24 Brokedown Blues Jim Sullivan 26 Poem Millsey 26 Poem Mary Spink 27 Francis Bacon Lindsley Cook 28 2 Thoughts for Today Joy is not the absence of sorrow; For within every sorrow Are many small joys. If we only take the time to look. Love's messenger is man Through protection, strength, patience, caring. Love's messenger is woman Through devotion. Need she anything more? CHERYL HILTEBEITEL Love's Trilogy The Girl of the Golden Dawn In the morning, With the brilliance of a new dawn She rises. Shedding her golden light of happiness Over my life. I turn over and gently kiss her. Life's beautiful. The Loneliness of Love About to Die Miles, Like the expanse of the universe Separate us. Love, Like a song played too much Is dying. And I, Like a child without a home Cry. I Can't Hear the Band Play Anymore Our love is finally over. The last flicker of flame tries desperately to linger. Only to be blown out by the cold wind of your leaving, No longer do the birds sing. No longer does the sun shine. And I can't hear the band play anymore. JIM SULLNAN 4 the green ideas of youth are caught within the longing for a wiser imagery, and precious symbols, made by repetition perfect in familiarity are left, without a rhyme, for want of truth, MILLSEY on ecology: the sea gives a lachrymose scream and spreads itself out covering every no deposit - no return. MILLSEY Hey - Dandelion -Sun god - lazy idler -Don't be so proud, You think you're glory; You think you're glow; But you're just the sun's reflection -(You ragged old shag head), MORRIS CHERRY 5 COLLEEN GLEASON 6 He's My Mountain Now I've walked upon a thousand hills, each being encircled by the light of the sun. A thousand people had walked here before me; living, loving, crying, reaching out and trying to find a name for the hill they stood upon. They didn't find the name, so they left their hill nameless. But today I walked upon this hill; it was small next to the mountains in the distance, but to me it was the greatest hill I've ever seen. I I was a grassy hill, with one lone flower waiting for someone to name it. I picked the flower, turned towards the sun and named this hill after you. it then became the greatest mountain in the world. NINA CAMIEL 7 "COLORADO LANDSCAPE:" from "AN ARIZONA PORTFOLIO" by ROGE:R N. BALDWIN 8 activity da ncing dis tortions leap from my windowpane, a s i stand watching the world scamper by, it going its way and me searching for mine. JOHN KENNETH PARK Crazy River The Big Thompson River runs dizzy -Crazy River Swoop and drag flows speed, sprays power. Hurl-swirl and gush white foam jets mad, jets fear. Who are you, rock, stick, frog? What's this intrusion? Dash to you then. Scrape and spin. Down and down and down and Down-circling Big Thompson Thinks it's an ocean -Crazy River -Slaps itself on the back And then roars at the joke. MORRIS CHERRY seeyousoon maybe tonight I'll pull out all your leUers, I'll memorize them again, counting the words (and every "love" twice) and then perhaps I'll construct my ultimate reply answering all your questions arguing all your opinions. oh, it will be a marvelous speech, glowing and flowing in words of a great scholar of yours. only to be forgoUen at the quick wave of your hand. MILLSEY Wild Stallion She is as a stallion, Running wild and free across the plains. And I should capture the sunlight, Before she would be only mine. But I will try, Until my life is over. 9 Because she runs with my soul as her invisible rider. 11M SUUNAN IO "V ' LINDA SMITH , , , '"' , ' , \ a search fall slarled early in my life this year. leaves fell and covered my emotions. my desires my needs my memories. loneliness started early in my life this year. friends came and tried with me, 10 hide to ignore 10 understand, reality. realily slarled too lale in my life this year. it has fallen and covered me, my mind against demanded forced pushed, the gray wall, begging me 10 understand myself fOHN KENNETH PARK II 12 the joy of the evening weoves a quiet web of happiness around the sensations of the night. the fingers of rain tap a quiet symphony on my window pane. the warm darkness spre"ds a loving blanket over me. and the dreoms of sleep gently close over my sweet waking dreams. CHERYL H1LTEBE1TEL on recognition: crying alone within that stillness of solitary with little confidence little hope much needful modesty, self-criticism I dream the dreom of wiping teors. M1LLSEY Nest Frozen, waiting for morning, The late-going bird Waits for warmth. Precarious, perched on a bare bough, The solid - feather - skin Cannot keep outside. To catch more time at home He stayed too long, but Battles inevitable with blood. Oh let the wings revolve, let him last -He can fall exhausted to a humid earth And still soar again. Frozen, knowing morning will come late -The late-going bird Goes. JUDITH GRUMET 13 14 We are born of this earth, of this strange and sorrowful soil, Bu t a dried spray of wiry weed Speaks more of this existence Than the soaring, steel-tiered monoliths Of the sin-suckled city. ( Ah, but they strain, and persevere through driving rain, and warping winter wind, Ah, how impervious, how imperial!) Heights, to taunt the trembling soul with strange sobs, Awesome, alarming, antagonistic arrowheads That feed the silent sorrows with bitter fruit. Few favors come of our acid dramas, Devil dances of ten and ten thousand At the zenith of the severe sun, And in the dim, dreary marches of the dying afternoon. Nonsense, screaming nonsense! OUf engines and our envies a re the same sardonic sins, Abortive Joseph coats, clashing colors of gleaming neon. Whirling obscenely, flashing their screaming shadows, And drowning silence in a maddened masque, Erratic and evil. ic)5 "TIMES SQUARE JIl" ROGER N. BALDWIN 16 ,Ii;; . ,-. "' :--\ \ -) . . " . ................. ---"BATTERY PARK PORTRAIT" ROGER N_ BALDWIN Depression Here I am, silting wilh death in my hands. Here I have the power to end a life Or not to. Not someone e lse's lust my own. Everyone else's life Has much more value. Why should I continue when the last person I had has gone? Here I am, death is growing warmer in my hands. They are trembling, I am ready to end. I say my last words to nothing hoping that someone hears. Someone enters this room. The end to all of my grief has opened the door. Too late, I've fallen to the floor -I am gone But he lives on to live my sorrow. NINA CAMIEL 17 18 Bait Bait minnows are much like The young men turned soldiers. Recruited from quiet hometown pools, They chase bread crumbs into Wire traps and minnow nets. Crowded into galvanized Boot Camp buckets, They 're held until ready For battle in Bass Water. The best go first. Hooked through the back With a number four; Wriggling three feet below A Dog Tag bobber, Easy prey to the Large Mouths. Some go AWOL, Slipping through the fingers Of their superiors before hooked, Fugitives, they dart beneath Moss-grown rocks, safe. When the war is ove r, The bass limit caught, A few remain. They return, the lucky ones, To greet their lovers And eulogize lost comrades. WILLIAM F. FOX The Gentle Carpenter Strong with love, easy with love, the gentle carpenter pulled agony. Day-ready and life-ripened, the man they crucified was but the victim of a fickle hosanna. Burnt weary with love, that tired carpenter and much-worn -10, now -MORRIS CHERRY an ode to ralph could not another dimension allow us the time . . . the place. have not we allowed life to live until the walls could would . . . . crash. life has but many ways . . . to walk, and many worthless words . . . to talk. has not life allowed us to live. walk until the smiles . . . return. smile until . . . . happiness. 19 IOHN KENNETH PARK 20 Rain Open the windows and listen today to the sounds of the rain. The evening is coming, passing under the sun and wrapping itself around the earth. The heavy rain has fallen, but a few remaining drops drip on. Rain is such a lonely element. Can't you hear the drops resounding oH all of the lonely and empty souls in this world? It's a very noticeable sound especially when you are sad. Rain can be very beautiful, the earth shines and it's so very quiet and you can hear the lonely souls traveling on to hide themselves until another storm. Rain can hide a lot too. I like to walk in the rain when I am afraid for it hides the fear on my face. Then people can't tell if I cry or if it is iust the rain. I hear the sound of it falling on a lonely soul. that of someone who I long for but will never see again. Maybe it is raining where he goes. Maybe he can hear the sound of the rain on my soul. Maybe he can feel the emptiness that the rain tries to fill, but is later dried up by the sun, leaving a gaping hole. I'll never know. I'll never know. The rain only knows. The rain knows alone. The rain knows loneliness. NINA CAMIEL 21 22 wading out the storm. watching it fill, form, bury itself into everything. dampness is complete - chair seats, bed sheets, unspoiled pieces of paper. everything sticks, melts. waves on the front yard. high tide, high winds, and a visibly rising rain gauge. the wind magically throws water through the shut-tight windows, washing down the blinds. glass and sash conspire against her, yet the wind chimes rattle, the shades rock as if the eyes were opened. accompanying her prestidigitation with moans, wails, and all those other echoes describing her cry. her c ry, her fury find no recognition and she moves on leaving the wet, an overturned lawn chair and the dead-fish-smelling air. . memories imprints left in the lawn and my mind, make it most hard to erase the thought patterns MILLSEY wan t never to forget. JOHN KENNETH PARK Paranoiac Dreaming Lilith is there, She sits and stares, Looking at me But not through me. Trying to shatter my schizoid.glass·ego She's quite unsuccessful She can't break me down and analyze analyze My parts. I sense her failure I ask Prufrock's overwhelming question, And, as I lie Secure in my Artificial womb, Lilith reioices! But what would I do now . . .? MICHAEL MIITELBRUNN 23 24 The Two Last People on Earth The two of us stood on the empty shore. The blackness of the ocean met the blackness of the sky. It was the noon of the day yet the sun failed to pierce the black clouds that man had placed thoughtfully above our heads. We stood in an eternal isolation. All of our friends, all of the world had met disaster. Yes, just yesterda y it seems we ran through the meadow, laughing at the sun which we now never see. Today, man destroyed himself. They fought out their last bitter war to survive. There will never be another war. Peace has come 01 last! The peace of the grave. There they lie, escaping what they left to you and me to mend. Yes, love, Ihe whole world is a grave, which we stand upon to give our last respects. What do we do now? You and I are the only two people left anywhere. Should we begin again the life of man? and let them build up and destroy again? Will this blackness slowly disappear and will the sun shine again? Or should we just embrace each other, melt into one and die with the rest? NINA CAMI£I. 25 26 Brolcedown Blues Broken hearts and broken dreams, Are the story of my life. Loves gone by and loves unknown, Don't paint the picture bright. So on my own and all alone, I spend many a lonely night. In my room so full of gloom, To try and set things right. There I cry, And wonder why, I let my life go on. W hen all it is, Is memories, Of what has come and gone. 11M SULLIVAN the wondrous airs of low tide at full moon waft through a mosquito-screened window an odor which, in winter, you often recall yet can't quite remember. MILLSEY My lord, II has been long since knowing Yau have gone. Night surrounds, Finding crevice -Falls into my chambre, Loneliness enters also., Time pulls upon me As quicksand, I am dragged ever down And drowned In sadness. I know nothing of y ou Or where y ou may be. My longing has not brought y ou; I fear y ou have for ever Gone. Yet I await y ou here, Alone. • • • • Gray shapes of change Tangle In my thoughts With gray October day Flashes of color From trees of orange Bright memories, Thoughts of stability Fade Into gray As life stands still . • • • God-man transcends Mystic representation Imagination crosses Apathy to inspiration Time bending all. • MARY SPINK 27 28 Francis Bacon Frank is one of those old dudes who tries to explain love in twenty-five pages when all it takes is what it is. LINDSLEY COOK 29 . , ., . I , , .. ~ f , '\' I! lP , < ~ . , f I . • 1 . ~ ., ". I ' : ::: \ . ~ i LINDA SMITH 30 . . • • • .. . •• • • '. • ' . , • • '. ---, , • • , • ' . . . ..... , -\,----~-- - " '~ ••• ,. \~ , ·,t! .... __ _ . ..... --, .~' \" "BROOKLYN BRIDGE FANTASY" ROGER N, BALDWIN • j , . -' . ~. , ;., . ", ."" .... . . :' . "' .... , : ..... . " .... ~, / , ..... .. , " .. ~; , , ..... / ' ... ,. . . ..... .. , '. -" r"·._, / ". -... •• • .... r " . "" " , -, ' - ' / , .. -, .. . . -. /: ',;!:' --' -.. ~:-..: ~ I' t. ). • • .. \ • • 

The Lantern Vol. 38, No. 1, Winter 1971

https://digitalcommons.ursinus.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1099&amp;context=lantern

The Lantern Vol. 38, No. 1, Winter 1971

Abstract

Similar works

Full text

Available Versions

Ursinus College