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FIOR
The
Fioretti .
A Literary Anthology
Vol.55
· 1997
Marian College
Indianapolis, IN
2
Staff
Editors:
Jennifer Beck
Jacqueline Finney
Advisor:
Sr.Stelia Gampfer, OSF
Special ~hanks to Duplicating Office:
Larry Steeb
Anita Smith
Cover Design:
Ryan Hoffar
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Tc3ble of Contents
Metamorphosis Spring Malekcar. ................................................. 4
Are you the girl from Lisdoonvarna? Emily Persic ..................... 5
Peaceful Russian Joslyn Virgin ............ ...... .................................... 6
--. Norman L. Minnick Jr. ........................................................ 7
The Chemistry of Love Brenda Guldner. ..................................... 8
Doll Houses Angela Hatem .......................................................... 11
Crossroads Jennifer Beck ............................................................ 12
Untitled Aaron Hubbell ................................................................ 13
Backward Technique Miranda Hines ......................................... 14
The Expensive Check Jacqueline ,Finney .................. ~ ............ : .... 15
Deirdre of the Sorrows Emily PersiC ............................ ; ..... ; ....... 19
Coffee-Shop Writing Timothy J.F. Vollmer. ................................. 20
Sot Norman L. Minnick Jr. ............................................................ 21
Fancy Poetry Joslyn Virgin .......................................................... 22
Mercy Stacey Clevenger. .............................................................. 23
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Metam.orphosis
by Spring Maleckar
Emerging slowly from its deep sleep
The tiny beauty slowly awakens.
Shedding its blankets
It wakes up tqa new morning.
The fragile creature leaves its nest
And cautiously opens her wings.
The delicate, colorful wonder leaves behind her~ cocoon
And silently flies to tomorrow.
IIAre you the girl from
Lisdoonvarna? 11
by Emily Persic
Under the pub's electric halo
she lifts her head
to his bleary, missingtooth grin, accepts
the pint with "thanks", "howsyous" and
is crowned with drunken mutterings.,
The rain has started its night mist,
the city silent, from the curb
the homes
are glowing with shadoWy figures
behind lace curtains.
She stumbles home,
Lovers huddle
under the shattered
streetlamps.
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Peaceful Russian
by Joslyn Virgin
In the silence she spends her free time,
buried in the translations.
Looking around her ever so often to see
the purple walls, the nail holes,
the old dust.
Is this what she had expected?
Trying to feed her was useless.
Like a sparrow
making a meal out of an eagle's feast.
She arrived in a red coat
. that traced he.r slender body like a bell.
I would often look into her blue eyes
turned gray by the clouds hanging over
Moscow.
What has she seen?
We tried to converse one evening;
"My Mutta."
I knew she missed her.
We stood in the doorway of the purple room.
A smile not quite of understanding, but of care
became the language between us . .
"I weel, I will go study" she pronounced
while closing the door behind her.
by Norman L. Minnick Jr.
Forevermore shimmers down
Like a honey waterfall.
Her face to my eye
Is like a--
Precisely, beauty is in the eye.
Love is the beholder.
Her soul to my eye
Is like a--
Precisely, I am going to
Reach deep inside of me
And pull my heart out
And give it to you.
Her heart to my eye
Is like a--
There is a word,
Oompalationelionicasatoning
With a Y and a Z.
Precisely.
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8
The Chemistry of Love
by Brenda Guldner
Once there was a very smart element named
Einsteinium. He was a Rhodium scholar and hada
PHd. He pledged Sigma Bond at Oxford University.
One day Einsteinium realized he didn't have a Nickel in
his pocket. He set off in his Mercury with its shiny
Chromium to Califorium where he made his fortune
in gold and silver. Einsteinium was a good element.
He was Nobelium and .Galluim as well. He was always
doing things for others. Some even called him a good
Samarium. He was a liter in his community.
One day as Einsteinium was sitting at the Palladium
in Hollywood drinking a Phosphorous soda; he
. noticed a beautiful element across the bar. She was so
Radium, he had to meter, but he thought his chances
were absolute zero. He introduced himself and she
said her name was Glucinium. It was the sweetest ·
name he had ever heard. She was a Platinium blonde.
She was a little dense but had a significant figure.
She had a cute little mol on her face and had the ':most
beautiful orbitals he had ever seen. She was a real
joule. She said she drove a Neon and worked as an
aerobics instructor, but she liked to call herself a reducing
agent. She used the Induced-fit Theory.
She really liked Einsteinium, too. He wasn't really all
that tall but he was fahrenheit. She thought he
looked like the Greek god Thorium.
They both fell in love. When they were together,
they both could feel the potential energy. When he
'saw her his temperature increased and he felt like he
needed oxygen. She felt as light as Helium without
specific gravity and like she was nearing her melt-
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ing point. It was like they had an ionic attraction
between them. They could feel the electron magnetism.
One day Einsteinium asked Glucinium to marry
him and offered her a beautiful Cubic Zirconium and
Rubidium ring as a symbol of his love. Her reaction
was one of surprise and joy. Glucinium joined his religion
because there is always that conversion factor.
Their wedding was lovely. They hired the great composer
Mendelevium to write their music and play,his
Lutetium. The mass was magnificent. They pledged
their love according to periodic law ~nd law of conservation
of mass. Theirs was a covalent bond.
As a wedding present Einsteinium bought her a little
dog called a Manganese and she named him Plutonium.
For their honeymoon they went to Europium.
They flew Transuranium Airlines. They visited Francium,
Germanium, Indium and Scandium. They
took a ride on a Gadolinium in Venice. They even met
Lawrencium of Arabia. They almost didn't make it
back home since they sailed on the Titanium. Luckily,
they both could swim like Neptunium. At least they
weren't on the Xenon Valdez. They were both glad to
get back to Americium.
When they got back home, they hired the worldfamous
architect Christopher Rhenium to design their
home. The house was incredible. It was Cobalt blue
with a big I ro n fence around it. They had it built in
Tellurium, Colorado, because they both liked to ski,
even though it sometimes gets to the freezing point
there. After a year, they had a little test tube baby
called Kelvin. They both shared in giving little Kelvin
his formula. He was truly a product of both of them.
It was a dream come true.
One day Glucini'um started having temper
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Tantalums. She would get so angry she would almost
reach her boiling point. One day things got so out of
hand that a rubber policeman showed up at their
door. The Copper's name was Mark Fermium. ,He
was from One Atom 12. Einsteinium asked how he
found them, and the policeman replied that he could
always trace elements. He told them to keep the
volume down.
Glucinium went through many physical and
chemical changes. This was an indicator to Einsteinium
that something was terribly wrong. She told
Einsteinium that he was a Boron and this only compounded
their problems. You could feel the surface
tension between them. They were nearing the end
point. Einsteinium thought maybe her electrolytes
were unbalanced. Maybe her Potassium or Sodium
was low, maybe she had Lead poisoning, or maybe she
just had gas. He,had Dr. Avogadro's number so he
. called him. If anybody could find a solution to their
problem it would be him. Einsteinium knew he could
solvent. The doctor said it could be a mixture of
things and said it was not uncommon in most heterogenous
relationships. He told Einsteinium to leave
her alone for a while because he was only acting as a
catalyst in the situation. He told him the most basic
thing to do would be to buffer the problem. Dr.
Avogadro finally found the Curium. He prescribed
Lithium for Glucinium.
After several sessions with the world-renowned
marriage counselors Dr. Ruthenium and Hugh
Hafnium their relationship became more balanced.
So they became more homogenous and lived in balanced
equilibrium the rest of their lives.
Doll Houses
by Angela Hatem
In my doll house hung a picture of the 3 us together.
Now hangs a picture of a pair.
My dolls had one house fit snugly for 3,
now there's 3 separate people and 2 empty houses.
Memories tug at my heart like a 30 lb. Weight,
to drop it would smash the plastic faces.
In my heart hangs the portrait of the 3 of us smiling.
Not the reality of two empty doll houses.
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Crossroads
by Jennifer Beck
I have never known a place so quiet, so still
As those dark rows of corn barely waving in the night
Where the summer's heat embraced me like a lover
And I drowned in a sea of stars.
I have never known a fear so intense
Nor felt a comfort so reassuring
As I found in those fields and under those stars
On that night when the essence of my being
Cried out, and found a soulmate.
Untitled
by Aaron Hubbell
There are times when
I feel for the tree
In autumn.
Summer passed
The dry season now withering its leaves.
Green blood flowing out,
Draining.
While carotenoid red, orange, . and yellow remain.
Strength departs, .
But and absurd beauty
Lies in that weakness.
Even that soon departs.
The source of its power
Scattered at its feet
Desiccated.
So it stands
Naked
Vulnerable
Cold.
But it will soon see spring.
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Backward Technique
by Miranda Hines
Clammy hands brush the pleated skirt.
Thoughts are racing as the apprehension fades.
(Don't freak out and everything's fine.)
I begin with a powerful run.
(Technique is the key ... no muscling it.)
Plant the hands, lift the legs, and
Seal the roundoff with a twist.
Long backhandsprings,
One after another.
Pull!(see the floor)Pull!(see the floor)
(Get ready for the tuck.)
Reach up! Spot the clock.
(There it is. Yes!)
Rotate it; knees-to-chest, hands-to-knees.
Land it. Stick it.
Perfect ..
The Expensive Check
by Jacqueline Finney
I was hoping that she'd leave him. After staying
with me for a few months, physically miles away from
him, I thought she had.
They met in a bar. I had advised her once never
to pick someone up in a bar and she said, "Blow it out
your back-end. I'm going to meet somebody and I
don't care where." So they found each other on a
night marked on her calendar with a butterfly sticker:
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I remember seeing them together on one of their
first excursions as a couple - before the storm. We
passed during the food festival held on the square
every year. I had a gyro, they both had corndogs. One
of her arms was wrapped around his like a snake. They
were pulling each other to different booths to watch
food being prepared. They looked genuinely happy. I
actually did think in those first few weeks that they
made a pleasant couple. At that time she didn't think
it would work out because he was "boring."
"I just don't know about him. He's just too nice,
I guess. He opens every door for me, always apologizes
for everything."
"Everything?"
"The other day he apologized for an untied
shoe."
"Would you rather have what's his name back?" I
said. She had been in a bad relationship just months
before.
"Oh God, no. I'm done with men like that.
know I deserve better."
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And so she decided, upon my advice which I wish
now I could take back, to stick it out with the man who
appeared too harmless to her. Now that I reflect back
on it, I believe it was the only advice of mine she ever
took to heart. .
After they settled in to one another he began to
show the side that provoked her to leave him - and go
back, and leave him again, and go back again. It
started with forgetting a date one evening and then
picking her up a couple hours late another. I guess I
can give him credit by saying he was gentle enough to
ease her into his true nature.
Alii heard in those months she stayed with me
was how horrible he was and that she should never
have stood for his crud ish behavior. She told me about
the time they were in the restaurant in the basement
of the· courthouse and he decided to leave without
paying because he was dissatisfied with the food and
the. service. It was one among many incidents where
he embarrassed her. Then there were the abusive
remarks he used to hand to her personally: "shithead"
and "my old cow." She said he had threatened her
many times. How brutal he was, I don't know. .
My favorite story happened at another restaurant,
one in which he could not have gotten away with
not paying. She told the story to me during one of our
Saturday night bitch sessions:
"I've heard of it happening so many times. The
guy doesn't want to pay the expensive check so he
tells his girlfriend he forgot his wallet and would she
please pick up the check. I believed him, even though I
could have sworn I saw him pick his wallet up off the
dining room table when we left the apartment. Then
he said he'd pay me back later. Well he never did. And
he probably spent the money he saved on beer and
cigarettes. "
My response, so often repeated, was, "The
asshole. I can't believe he did that to you." Hers was,
"Don't call him an asshole, Julie. That was the only
time that happened." Once I reinforced what she said
about him she always turned aro~nd to defend him.
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I had never quite noticed the type of person she
was until she fell in with him. But after coming to me
in tears so frequently and returning to him within hours
I knew she was the dependent type. The dependent
type - a-Iways returning to the oppressive "Dale after
the usual six hour break up withput ever resolving the
issue(s) that split them up in the first place. To the
dependent type the issue does not matter. She simply
enjoys the crying. She savors being treated lik~ a child
or a pet once she returns to her owner's arms. She
being a close friend I respected once for coml1lon
sense, I was hoping this was the final exit. r really ,
believed her when she said she was never going to let
him w.alk _all over her 'again. She disappointed Ole yJith '
her change of heart. ,. _ .'
She went back to him the last time following
repeated voice messages from him saying, "I know I've
been a jerk, but If you'll just give meQner:nore chance
I'm positive we can work it out. I've been '·<;.razy without
you." I told her he was lying, aAd:',Sht{ saidJ
couldn't recognize sincerity when I saw'it. Csa,idno,
but I could recog,nize shit wheo I saw it. His next tactic
was-to deliver flowers to her at work. - I said don't
cave, she said it's romantic, I said the shit thing: again,
she gave me the blowing it out the ass thing again, I
reminded her she was living at my house, she threw the
flowers away. Then the slippery fish bought her a ring.
That one was the icing on the cake. The minute after
she slid it on her finger she was out the door and I was
left in the house to be the sole person ashamed of her
actions.
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One evening over coffee and Hawaiian bread she
asked me if I was jealous. I had ended a serious relationship
months before and was extremely hesitant to
jump back into the game. In her own personal crisis,
diverting her frustration, I understood her confusion.
After I told her no she wouldn't take my answer and
urged on, promising that she understood why. Again I
insisted I wasn't. I told her that I could never be jealous
of someone who was paying the highest price for
someone that would never give her anything of real
value in return. In anger I said I had lost all respect for 1
her because she didn't have any more for herself. She \
told me that I misread everything and that I was the
one living in waste because of what I could no longer
enjoy. That was the last time we spoke.
The last place I saw them was in a shop on the
outskirts of town last week. I shook my head in disgust
at the pitifulness of the sight. There he was,
smug and so sure of the trust of his dependent and
there she was, still, like a child clinging to his shirt.
Deirdre of the Sorrows
by Emily Persic
When Deirdre's skull
fell broken over the saltdark stones
the waves rose up to bathe the rosyp~le lips
the still wide eyes,
and
lapped gently
the halfcurled hand.
For with her man reaching,
her quicksoaring body
elusive to his grasp
over the greenblack cliffs
to the polished stones below
she fell, silent in the falling
Her lament
voiceJess
by the tumultuous wind.
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Coffee-Shop Writing
by Timothy J.F. Vollmer
Soothing strands of Enya wafted breezily
through the smoky, dimly-lit air of the small
coffee-shop.
I sat back in the plush lounge chair and pondered
over the blank notebook paper strewn carelessly on the
checkered table, half-eaten apricot cheesecake before
me, cup of frothy capachino in my hand. . i.
I knew what I was going to write. Monsters. Demons.
Tragic heroes. No prince in disguise, t hough; he
was going to die. . >
With a negligent hand I scattered thick tendrils of
.cigarette smoke which threatened to overwhelm my
senses, then picked up my pen.
I knew what I was going to write.
Putting pen to paper, I paused, and began to
doodle. Gradually, a word began to take shape through
the black mists of ink. . . . .
-The-
The? The what?
My fevered imagination resounded with the possibilities,
with the unlimited horizons which awaited
only the liberating power of my pen. '
Overcome with passion, I began to doodle again.
It was going to be wonderful, I knew.
It was going to be classic.
Sot
by Norman L. Minnick Jr.
She hates jazz
Like a cow hates milk
Chocolate and razz
Berries that ripen on a window sill.
She likes thinking
With old number seven.
Ten thousand bohemians sinking,
Multicolored cows in the Seven Eleven.
She finds herself slipping
On shiny slick words.
Offensively pretty she is
A confused muse musing
Fell on a bed of words.
She wanders in spiral
Movements seem absurd.
She likes her stormy seas
Sailing half-seas-over
And milk like jazz chums,
Whose blender belly swells,
A chocolate fire burns
In her seventh heaven hell.
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Fancy Poetry
by Joslyn Virgin
Suffocating from silence
as I drove home with my eyes fixed on the blackness turning
bright gray.
Something in their words made me heavy.
My heart swallowed my voice, my feet in restless shoes.
Wordy hors d'oeuvres left my hears with a bitter;taste.
My stomach fringed in pieces of falling rust.
I wandered about their personal life,
kitchens with empty j~rs and plates of the whitest sugar.
Tongues in sweet conversation, strawberries dipped in fudge.
They were feeding one another,
and my fingers scrounged for their crumbs on the ground.
One picked up a silver platter,
white gloves and wine glasses of word matter
circled around the room.
Porcelain china dolls spilling over with tea.
Mercy
by Stacey Clevenger
At first
A child's game
Hands grasped
Strength pulled up
Withstanding of pain
Eyes locked
Challenge present.
Mercy'
The first one cries
The mental game
Won once more.
Not so much
Childish now
I play the game
Hold my ground
Finally, I give'
Mercy' I think.
I cannot ·
. Withstand the pain
Mental anguish' is
Not my forte
Mercy'
You win.
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It's your turn
To make up .
No more effort on my part.
It's hard to
Sit on my hands
And not reach out
But you move.
Do we play again?
Do I pull out aU stops?
Mercy~
Do I win?
Mercy, you cry~ |
