The Highacres collegian. (Hazleton, PA) 1956-????, March 20, 1992, Image 4

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    PAGE 4
Creative
o
v
it
e
r
Spring Cleaning Ignored
-Nancy Costa
So there they sit in their velvet robes,
gently picking the lint from their sleeves.
A little lint has such an effect as to take
their concentration and tear it from all
else. They’ve got their brilliant red sashes
and other pieces of what they consider
regal gala. Though a brilliant mind
they’ve developed, the power of a little
lint is amazing.
You can be either a velvet robe or a piece
of lint. It’s always there, with more power
\d. Such a
s ust a
sir way?
Desperately trying to achieve the pinnacle of happiness,
but always slipping at the last moment.
Never to attain the sheer joy and rapture of life.
Shuffling down a dark alley, followed by demons in
black
who claim that they have the answers we are looking
And we succumb and take up with them.
Knowing that somehow they will make the pain cease.
Not asking how or why, but believing that all will be
well.
That we will be able to laugh without crying and smile
without screaming.
By: Erin Keane
If I were a candle in a sea of
other candles, would you be ;
recognize me?
I would be able to recognize
your flame is special and unii
others.
It would flicker and flash in
wind, and silently laugh youi
laugh.
It would gaily dance in only t
you know how, and smile wii
happiness.
Your candle would shine the
ikes your
ter, lint can
iss. I never
-Erin Ann Keane
iiiliiiiK
pmHI
/«/
§
¥6 What is life, I ask you. What is this thing
M we call life? Is it our vehicle with which
I to obtain happiness, love, pleasure &
I pain. Life is not a gift as it does seem.
I Rather life to us is loaned. It is given to us
at birth, we are expected to enjoy it we
| are expected to learn from it we are
expected to give it back! Why then do we
live at all? Perhaps life is a test of merit,
of character, of worthiness. A test for yet
another life, a trial run for something
greater. Life is... Life, a word with many
meanings.
Escaping
By: Corey Gesford
The stream moved in a rapid current, creating a
smooth, tranquil sound, as we lay on the rocks
surrounded. The sun casts its glow upon us, the
river, and the rocks.
This entire scene, that we found by the grace of
fate, as we had failed to find the waterfalls we
had initially set out to encounter.
The sound of the rapid stream set us apart from
the world. We momentarily escaped the wrath of
sociological readings, math equations, and
English papers. We were apart from the world,
of which so many of us are afraid to think and
express ourselves, the world where we fail to
venture into the gray areas, but insist on black
and white, cut and dry.
Some of us ventured into the creek, challenging
the cold, rough waters, and explore its depths
with a bravery, or reckless abandon we had given
into. Caught up in the fascination, we threw
caution to the wind and said to hell with it. We
became one with nature without having to
concentrate at it and lose our sort of rebellious
edge.
With the easing rush of the stream, we were
able to enhance the fulfillment of the beautiful
sunshine even more. The beer tasted better.
Time crept at a pace that enabled us to enjoy
every passing minute. At last the time could not
be stretched anymore, for the world of rigid
regime beckoned us, and we felt obliged to
answer its call.
"What It lifef*
Gina Hammond
iey are filling up so quickly
string higher and higher
on they will overflow,
ith every second that passes
e pain grows stronger and stronger
tie will to hold back
ows weaker and weaker,
m’t let go
>t just yet
back a moment and let the feeling set
longer can this pain be fought
ten all the tears run down the face
is pain is gone and now erased.