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Aeolus

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Student Art and Literary MagazineDaytona State College

2012

Aeolus is made once a year for and by Daytona State College students. The opinions and works expressed in this magazine are those of the

artists and writers and not necessarily those of The College. To submit work to Aeolus Literary Magazine, email us at aeolus@daytonastate.edu

or drop them off in building 130, room 119.

Printed by Central Florida PublishingSanford, FL

AeolusIn Greek mythology Aeolus (pronounced Ee-Oh-Lus), King of the Winds,

lived both in the air and on the Earth island of Aeolia. He was viceroy of the Gods, who ruled over the North, West, South and East winds

and all the birds within them.

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contentscontentscontentscontentscontentscontentscontentscontentscontentscontentscontentscontentscontentscontentscontentscontentscontentscontentscontentscontentscontentscontentscontentscontentscontentscontentscontentscontentscontentscontents

The Crux of Benevolence — 7by Preston Johnston

Forget Me Not — 11by Billi Jo Young

Time to Heal — 11by Joshua Cromwell

Fate — 15by Orion Christy

His and Hers — 16by Joshua Cromwell

Poison — 21by Erin Heim

A Flower Has Died — 22by Roberto Arroyo

Riding the Bullet — 24by Lisa Swearingen

Eager Malice — 27by Steven Katona

Let There Be Pirates — 28by Joshua Cromwell

Phasmophia — 31by Billi Jo Young

Dance and Sway — 32by Emelia Grace

Moment — 35by Leonard Owens III

An Opus of Life — 38by Hope Alexandra Berg

Juxtaposition — 38by Huong Luong

Hummingbird — 39by Huong Luong

The Way You’re Sleeping — 39by Erin Heim

You — 40by Jordan Unatin

Good God, Listen to Me — 42by Preston Johnston

Beyond the Break — 45by Madison Kinney

Beauty, You Wear It So Well — 49by Joshua Cromwell

Remember Me — 50by Erin Heim

Kudzu — 56by Erin Heim

Minutes to Midnight — 59by Roberto Arroyo

Dear Cinderella — 60by Joshua Cromwell

In the Stillness — 62by Lisa Silversmith

Highway Spirit — 66by Emelia Grace

I am, God — 69by Preston Johnston

Conundrum — 70by Huong Luong

Joshua — 79by Lisa Swearingen

Human Hearts — 80by Huong Luong

Clarity — 82by Jordan Unatin

Bittersweet November — 12by Ian Hartley

Blood, Sweat, and Stone — 74by Steven Katona

Poetry

Short Stories

Photography

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contentscontents One Fish Two Fish — 8

by Dillion ReynoldsUntitled — 9

by Dillion ReynoldsUntitled — 10by Jenna Kay Zuyus

Untitled — 14by Alexis Calhoun

Candy Color Wheel — 20by Andrea Bennett

Fire Whirl — 25by Genesis Ball

Untitled — 29by Tessa Chute

Untitled — 34by Dillion Reynolds

Untitled — 41by Sarah Nardandrea

Life — 48by Sarah Wilkins

Untitled — 57by Nicolette Nieves

Untitled — 57by Joy-Amy Amderson

Turn Me On — 61by Jenna Kay Zuyus

The Mage — 64by Genesis Ball

Tropical Sunset — 64by Genesis Ball

Untitled — 65by Tessa Chute

Beholder — 71by Jenna Kay Zuyus

Headphones Are the Shiznit — 83by Jenna Kay Zuyus

Photography

Artwork

Graffi ti Soldier — 6by Anthony Rollins

Halloween — 6by Erika Rech

Beach Landscape — 18by Chelsea Perez

Fragile Beauty — 26by Emelia Grace

Death at a Cemetery — 30by Lance Rothwell

Sunrise Park — 36by Robert Fuller

Boat Sunset — 37by Chelsea Perez

Ponce — 37by Denise Hayes

Untitled — 44by Madison Kinney

New Orleans Sky — 47by Brian Crofoot

New Orleans Alley — 47by Brian Crofoot

Water’s View — 51by Kaitlyn Tower

My Memory — 53by Erika Rech

San Francisco, 2012 — 54by Quenby Sheree

Ryan — 55by Alex Brown

Mexi-skate — 55by Alex Brown

The Path — 58by Robert Fuller

Clock Tower — 68by Aaron Jalil

Votran Bus — 68by Aaron Jalil

Starry Night — 72by Kaitlyn Tower

Flipper — 77by Quenby Sheree

Escape — 78by Ashley Roberts

Unwritten — 81by Chelsea Perez

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Halloween by Erika Rech Photography

Graffiti Soldier by Anthony Rollins Photography

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The Crux of Benevolence by Preston Johnston

Grace King,The one with masks,

Built by feared brick wall,The black taciturn of space,

Birthed benevolence.

At the newsThe stars' spears clattered and nicked the walls of

this king's cavern.Citizens barred by King's maskGave penance to every stone.

Nose, eyes, breath, teethHe forced himself behind,

Whilst praise leaked from lipsTo burgeon each stones' fortitude.

The last spear struck with a vibrating quiver.Silence clamped air in it’s hands.

Time placid wafting in place of shine and shimmer, The destitute sky abandoned

Dusty scape of hydrogen shivered.And King acted out.

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One Fish Two Fish by Dillion ReynoldsCeramics

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Dillion ReynoldsCeramics

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Jenna Kay ZuyusCharcoal

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Forget Me Notby Billi Jo Young

Slowly you killed meAnd you loved every step.When you were through

It was my heart that you kept.So take your hands

Wrap them around my heart.Lift it up to your mouth

And tear it apart.Savor the fl avor,

Don’t put it to waste.It’s the last bit of my life

You will ever taste.And when you are through

Don’t wash your hands clean.Leave them stained with my blood

To remind you of me.

Time to Healby Joshua Cromwell

There comes a timeIn every man’s life, where

His heart’s broke so many times, thatHe wouldn’t know where to start, but

When you don’t give somethingTime to heal, and it breaks again,A scar will have to take its place

I’ve got so many scars that, They’re starting to show on my faceYou have to give it up to give it away.

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Bittersweet Novemberby Ian Hartley

The man was older than the last time we met, and there was a moment when I heard his voice for the fi rst time in almost a year. It was like meeting him for the fi rst time. It seemed his parole was on the day of the festival. The windows were down and a breeze came in, It wasn't so cold as there was still plenty of sun. His face was on the ocean. The old man placed his hand on my leg, and as I pulled over he went down the hill. The tide wasn't in, but even so the night was coming. He took off his clothes and as he swam out he said: “We were here once. It was a certain kind of day, almost nice.” He came back and sat down next to me, father chuckled for the fi rst time I heard him laugh. We stood up and walked along the shore until our feet were wet. I turned back to see he had already made his way up the hill, as if he didn’t want to drift out to sea. When we got into town everyone was already at the fairgrounds, beginning to go on the Ferris wheel and eat caramel apples. My father wanted to see a movie. The theater was showing an old one, some old b-movie that no one would know except my father. We went in and both had popcorn. The fi lm wasn’t so bad. The plot dealt with some handsome gentleman saving the day against the forces of evil, and the evil--that seemed to make everyone feel so bad--left. The girl was beautiful; we both

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thought she was fi ne. The big man wanted to eat at the dinner across the street. He mentioned long ago, that the place served the best steak and eggs. I always had the biscuits and gravy. When we ordered he also had the same thing as me. The waitress was cute, she saw me looking at her and blushed. When the old man went out for a smoke she sat next to me and began to pinch my cheeks. I didn’t worry if the old man saw me. By the time it was dark we had already spent a full day in the town. That was all there was to do, see a movie, eat food, and swim a mile in the ocean. The girl even gave me her number. We had to go back to the jailhouse and we didn't speak the whole way there. The place had a shade of gray, and the fence still had wire all the way through the fence. I turned off the car. He didn’t say goodbye, but nodded as he made his made his way to the entrance. The girl waited for me until the dinner closed, but she didn't seem to care that my father was looking at her up and down; those kind of things you seem to forget. We weren't so tired, and she desperately wanted to see the festival. I heard the caramel apples were good, the Ferris wheel was also fi ne. Everything was bitter sweet that night. After the fair she began to slow down; I drove around looking for where she might live. On the Ferris wheel we snuggled, and like a gentleman I gave her my coat, even if it wasn’t that cold out.

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Alexis CalhounAcrylics

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Fateby Orion Christy

If our destiny is in fact pre-determined Then it must remain hidden

Inorder to preserve the struggle.

This is not intended to make life difficult But to keep it interesting and meaningful;

A journey’s end that is revealed Before the start is not one worth undertaking.

Adventure is in our very beings, It helps drive us, and keeps us entertained.

The frustration that overwhelms is due to Unacceptance of the truth:

A destructive state that only further Clouds life’s mysteries.

Surely all of mine are speculation But I believe this too to be an adventure

In enlightenment.

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His and Hersby Joshua Cromwell

Back in the summer of '53Was a boy who lived by honestyBut just 'cross the street lived a girlA girl that would rock his worldNow they were only teenagers, wild and freeBut in time everyone one else would seeThat these two were as perfect as could be She's the girl all the boys wanna dance withBut she's never given one of them any chancesNot knowing that it was the best thing to doFor her, even for youHe's the boy that sits in the back, draws on his workNot knowing that it's called talent, not a quirkHe's drawn the back of her head so many times nowHe hopes to talk to her somehow Today was the day, few months into '55The whole class was so excited to see him do the thing of his lifeHe asked her to prom, finally, oh oh finallyShe'd been waiting for him to be, Be the one she'd say yes toSo they danced, they danced 'til daylightNow they knew things were going rightShe'd been waiting for him to be, Be the one she'd say yes to Fast forward a few years, to hear the wedding bellsPreluded by hundreds of hugs and kisses, oh so swellShe wore a gorgeous flowing gown of white,He wore a nice suit, standing on the other sideAs the congregation cheered when he swept her off her feet,Something onset showed its head as she went out to greet, the crowd He laid by her side, now it's 1985The hospital somehow soothed them, as she cried herself to sleep

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He just held her hand and watched as she couldn't eatThe cancer in her brain would be the end of her,

He just couldn't imagine, imagine life,Imagine life without her

The boy planned something that would be the thing of her life

She's the girl all the boys wanna dance withBut she's never given one of them any chances

Not knowing that it was the best thing to doFor her, even for you

She'd been waiting for him to be, Be the one she'd say yes to

That night, before she died, heasked her dance just one more time

So they danced, they danced 'til daylightNow they knew things were going right

She'd been waiting for him to be, Be the one she'd say yes to

Then she, went to heaven to be with Jesus

She went homeShe went home

To be with JesusBe with Jesus

She'd been waiting for him to be,

(She's the girl all the boys wanna dance with)Be the one she'd say yes to

(But she's never given one of them any chances)So they danced, they danced 'til daylight

(He laid by her side, now it's 1985)Now they knew things were going right (He just couldn't imagine, imagine life)

She'd been waiting for him to be, (That night, before she died, he)

Be the one she'd say yes to (Asked her dance just one more time)

So they danced, they danced 'til daylightNow they knew things were going right.

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Beach Landscape by Chelsea PerezPhotography

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Candy Color Wheel by Andrea BennettAcrylics

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Poisonby Erin Heim

Lights flicker in a moment fadedIn flashes the blaze engulfs

Shadows of sadness intrude inThe light I lit for safety

Dancing in the darker islesRecalling pictures I never wanted to see

Snapshots of a frozen mindSomething I never wanted

Bound by the only light around meRouged with limitation

I fear what is the darknessIt is there that my mind lies

Revealing truths and remaining stagnantFreezing me in a moment

That no heat from my flame can throwNot bright enough to see

But not dim enough not to showSwallowed by the smoke inside

I inhale, standing hollowFull of the wisps and whimsy of a poison

I am bound to breathe.

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A Flower Has Diedby Roberto Arroyo

A fl ower has diedNobody smelt her petals

Her smile was the heart of itAnd joy, the perfume and scent of her color

Her beauty surpasses all around herA fl ower has died

Her petals fell over on the ground slowly to not make noiseFor not waking upon fall

Spring misses herThe summer looked around and didn’t see her

The fall slept, never missed her placeA tree cries—she was by him

He says with melancholyI’ve lost the color of her hair and the presence of her heart itself

My roots caressed her with such tenderness I avoided letting fall my leaves on her not to hurt her petals

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Summer says “I cried to bale her with my tears”A fl ower has died… did the sun burn her with his beams?

The sun excused and saidI avoided my beam on her

Her beauty captivated me completelyA bee stepped on her and got enjoyed for her nectar

So sweet as sugar and so warm as the heatA fl ower has died and I slept

Who will fi ll the void she left?Who will give off the fragrance she gave off?

Who will wake up fall to see her again?A fl ower has died

I tweak myself to see if this is realityNuts and seed enjoyed growing beside her

Her shadow was perfect and the company—elegance wasA fl ower has died in my arms but I could not assist her

The sea, my witnessLove sank and kissed its bottom

The lady was the queen of his dreamsAnd the light of the moon.

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Riding the Bulletby Lisa Swearingen

Bullets are whizzing past everyone’s headMost of your family is missing or dead

How much more innocent blood must be shed,While the powers against you are snug in their beds

Bombs are being detonated inside of our bordersThere are people who’ll do anything to comply with the orders

Of leaders in power who recruit the poorest soldierThe rich will never step in until the battle is over

There’s a bloody war going on out thereAnd the simplicity of the truth is scarce

We cannot find a peaceful solution anywhereTo send them off again doesn’t seem that fair.

It’s a cycleAgainst the rival

To focus on our survivalThis war is undeniable.

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Fire Whirl by Genesis BallAcrylics

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Fragile Beauty by Emelia GracePhotography

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Eager Maliceby Steven Katona

I get lost in the sparkle in your eyes. Where I see my reflection,

Hope burning like fire. Wishing the moment would never fade away.

That one day you’d make it real and cross our stars. That one day I’d make you smile brighter than city lights.

That one day we’d fly over the Atlantic, And make your dreams come true.

I wish one day you would see It’s my shoulder that catches your tears,

Behind puffy eyes I hear your dreams, Jetting you to the stars. I’d wait here all the time to see that light in you,

hoping that you always stay the same. You’re all I think about,

The only person my eyes catch. I smile because I know it’s true.

Yet my great expectations are futile. All I can do is hope,

Hope that one day you’d see your reflection in my eyes. So I know it’s not just me who feels this way,

It’s also you.

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Let There Be Piratesby Joshua Cromwell

A war shall not determine who is wrong, who is rightOnly who is left alive,Who is left standing

(How can you refuse me?)I do not see as you do

(You dare reject my views, I see)And this you will regret, for I will not back down

(I refuse to drown!)Let us wage war, to see who is right(We will burn everything tonight)

(Cease this fight, now!)

You march on as you haven't before(Trusting in your humanity to lead a war)

(How can you decide if you have won)If you're all dead, when all is said and done

(An eye for an eye, all will be blind)(A tooth for a tooth, there will be no smiles, alright?)

(Let's not fight, brothers)(Let's not kill off one another)

If a gentle answer turns away wrath,

And a harsh word stirs up anger,Then know you are going on a deadly path(Desolate, disastrous, unending danger)

Starting a quarrel is like breaching a dam;So drop the matter before a dispute breaks out

(You pretend to be a lion, you lamb)When under mutual respect, there is no doubt

Just stand with each other(Protect yourselves)

(Join together)(Be who you were made to be)

(You were made to defend)

Protect the naive, friend(Fight for innocence)

Stand for something greaterHistory is written by the victors, written by blood

We’re all the same, you and IWe do what it takes to stay alive

But will we do what needs to be done?No shortage of patriots,

No lack of morale, fed by usRevenge is a bittersweet dream

Be ready to dig two graves.

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Tessa ChuteAcrylics

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Death at the Cemetery by Lance RothwellPhotography

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Phasmophobiaby Billi Jo Young

What is the reasonYou hold her so close?

Is it that you’re frightened?Can you see my ghost?

Watching your face,Watching your eyes,

Watching the foolBelieving your lies.

Can you still see me?Can you see through?Can you forget the one

Who died for you?The chill up your spine,The tears that you cry,

Don’t be frightened my love;It is only I.

The breath caught in your throat,The eyes from behind;They’re pieces of me

Buried somewhere in your mind.The bones in your closet,

The beast under your bed,The words that I speak

Is the voice in your head.The cold winds that blow,

The shadows you see,The bite in the air;

My dear, that is me.Why are you hiding her?

Hold her close?Didn’t I once tell you

There’s no such thing as ghosts?

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Dance and Swayby Emelia Grace

& They dance and they sway,These facades on paradeEyes casting dark gloriesOn half written stories

They dug out a graveOf paper mache'With black trimmed roses,They lifted their noses—"Oh you'll see, yes you'll see!"They cackle with glee!While the pen leaves its markAnd love leaves her scar.

The freshly turned earthHas left sense of our worth

All murky and gray,This path run astray

The stone of what's left,Of a tragic one's death

Mere scratches on rockThat mar at our thoughts.

Now I wander alone,So far from a home—

Beady eyes fl ickerWhile I wade in thicker

Past banners of goldAnd fl ags crimson bold

Past-painted masks—Reinvented pasts

The lies that defi neAnd the truth of demise

FallingDown

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PastTheCrowd

To rest, at lastAnd disarm my maskBut I lie in wait,Of a terrible fate.

Now they dance and they sway,In a melodious waySo I may trust in their eyes,Despicable lies.Now long forgotten,Our loved one begottenAs that cold stone decays,I glance far awayEntranced in the hopeAnd looping the rope—I ensnare my thoughts

And hold them aloft—

UntilI am

No More.Oh how they dance and they

sway As I fall to my grave

carved of paper macheI scream and awake—

It is naught but a dream,And quite silly it seems

But down on the fl oor,Is the mask I've adorned

And pictures in frames,All smile or wave

How they dance, how they sway!

Paper hearts on parade...

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Dillion ReynoldsCeramics

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Momentby Leonard Owens III

That moment, your new girlfriend discovers That all your internet passwords

Are the name of your last Girlfriend, that moment,

Well, it really Sucks.

That next moment, the one where she looksAt me with beggar's eyes wanting

To know if I still loveMy ex, that moment,

Yeah, is evenWorse.

That last moment, where I look back at herKnowing the truth, but not sure

If I want her to know It too, that moment,

Sigh, I wannaLie.

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Sunrise Park by Robert FullerPhotography

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Boat Sunset by Chelsea PerezPhotography

Ponce by Denise HayesPhotography

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Juxtapositionby Huong Luong

We learn to love just as easily as we learn to lose.We have no choice upon the matter.

It’s a vicious cycle.

When we lose, we swear off love.When we love, we refuse to lose.

Can the two ever exist in harmony?

An Opus of Lifeby Hope Alexandra Berg

Could death of the body be any worse,Than the death of the mind, the end of its verse

From notes of a piece to days in a yearOur lives are drawn out, an opus of fear

Life is set, like lines on a staffNever wanting to drift far off our path

The stage is set for last callThe end of movement one, two and last of them all,

Everyone awaits that fi nal noteWhen suddenly your life was just an anecdote.

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Hummingbirdby Huong Luong

Someone please stop my heart from beatingIts hummingbird pace is speeding

I cannot long for the fl eetingFor my hungry heart keeps feeding

'Til the very last drop stops bleeding.

The way you’re sleepingby Erin Heim

Something is missingI've been searching and searching

Turning over everythingBut something is missing

I pushed my body to the limitI felt my stomach cramp and knees burn

Made my back ache and lungs yearnFor the air that you aren't breathing

I stayed awake all nightTo see the moments you will never see

I made amends and did things right.

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Youby Jordan Unatin

Karma is.Karma is no she,

Is no he.Karma is no word.

Karma is.

Karma floats in omnipotence,Lurks in the subconscious,

In the unconscious,In the conscious.

Karma awaits at blindsideAnd you receive a blow

Below

Karma is patient.Karma is no cause,

It is only effect.Karma is tiredAnd seeks rest.

Be mindful.Karma is a like-charge.

YouTurn the switch.

YouCreate the opposition.

YouAre karma.

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Sarah NardandreaPen and Ink

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Good God, Listen to meby Preston Johnston

WeIn a vessel,Beside likewise thinkers,Toss prayers that scatterPalpitation's dismal melodies.

It is the aberration,An abortion from thoughtThat infests doubt's relief,The only way a motherKnows,

Riddled with sorrows colored blue,Thinking, plight of man.Barren she becomes.

A twisted disease,Shadows of "Once were's"Inner workings over hangsThe gelid limboAnd suspends the Rose.

OurSolemn notesPlaced in the airAgainstTomb and canal'sFinal light.

A convenience of birthKnots less compassionate goals

IGather ice for my soul!Tease splintersFrom tossing knees,Ignite future's pretense,The ice to burn brightUnder the acuity of vacuum,And into sinister barren march.

Am I so ice filled?Finger slings,Black robes rustleAnd towering morals

consume my supple justiceAnd I meet the still

Stair.

But beyond finitudeThe more sinister,

That portion of manDrawn for a test on life

Of green thoughts,Retches

And free-will shakes,While the world lies dusty

Sprayed in watchers refuseSprayed in soiled garments

Collected from Sufferer's hamper

Where we stowsecret aches,

Strings to his sexAnd small sights.

At the crossOf moral practice

Where we begNot to be buried

Waits consciousnessChained,

Free-will cackles,A whip on skin

Collected from jury talk,Freewill's tweezers,

Dab the marrow.Tap!Tap!

The bones' coverWhere more than thoughts

Linger.

The Lion of man on veinTastes

The blood of choice,At moments

The onlySuccoring touch.

Anchored on ice,

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Juries and their screechesPierce the levels of memory.Blued trumpetersCall old lightsAs Time fords Judgement'sWarm up.

Let loose these cords,They are from unstable SearchersWho peer at vellumFor Truth!

But hold,The pull on eyes,The yank at flex,The terror upon earsOf forlorn mournsMoving tonsFrom the grind on humanityAnd what is lostTo ourselves,The part of manUnexplainableUnchangeableFrom birthInnateThat Conrad mentioned.

For our own reasonsPlay.Play foolsPlay god,Play toolsPlay youPlay violinsAnd gunsPlay the missile And the connectingButtonPlay the detonatorPlay the coming manHard in his wifePlay birthPlay carsAnd people.Play by throwing your bestInto this game.Play the connectionsPlay circuit boards

And limp armsSleepy at controls.

Play SocratesAnd his Defining stanceAnd the sophist's tools.

Play rodsAnd men,

Play rosesAnd women,Play countryAnd patriots

Play AtheistsAnd those of belief.

Play goodAnd evil

Those subjective beasts.Play rain,

And ApolloPlay rays

And the burns on skinPlay castles on sand

And tombs in the earth.Play the moon

And the 'were' of manPlay Zeus and his children

And his repose in mythology,Play whales,

And sightless infinitesimalGravitons.

Play what matters to your veinsAnd what keeps your heart

beatingAnd your soul out of its box,

Play you and your waresMade real

By your molding,By your struggles

And character of humanity.Play what gives you depth and

heightBy what gives you credence

For yourselfAnd that ounce of truth we

circumventIn hopes for realities relativity

And mind's cadenceLost on lament

Of autonomous cliffs.

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Madison KinneyPhotography

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Beyond The Break by Madison Kinney

I can feel the wax From my board sticking

To my backAs I lay

The early morning rays are friendly To my closed eyes

The wave rolling by me like giant moving hillsGently rocking me

The water is crisp and cold on my sun baked skinThe sun

Drying the beaded water off my chest and armsI feel as if

I am somewhere else far away fromHomeThis is

The one placeWhere I can truly relax

AndForget my problems

The one placeI visit least

As life leads us Away

From the things we enjoy doing most.

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Masochist by Huong Luong

I’m only your hero whenever you’re weak.Downtrodden to say the least.

It’s only the truth when you choose to speak

Lies to you exist even from the priest.

You’re only happy whenever you’re in painOnly to your demise and not by anyone else’s craft

We’re only dead if there’s nothing left to gain

But you wanted this—and so you had your last laugh.

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Photography

New Orleans Sky by Brian CrofootPhotography

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Life by Sarah Wilkins3-D Mixed Media

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Beauty, You Wear It So Wellby Joshua Cromwell

I made this for you, hope you don't mindWrote out these word, gave of my time

Thought of every, word, toCompliment your very being like I've always wanted to

But all fall short of deserving of your beautyPlease humor me

I swear on my deathbed that I'll be the oneTo love and hold you, 'til the world comes undone

And still continue to love you, hereafterI will never let you fall

I'd rather either give it up or lose it allBelieve me when I say it's for a good cause

Never shall I harm you, never shall I forsake you, girlYou're beautiful

Beyond compare, beyond any measureYou're gracious

Solely incomparable, no matter where you goNo matter the time or place,

There nothing like your shining faceTo brighten up my day

Please just speak my name, your voiceIs the most distinctive and lovely of noises

You're graciousSolely incomparable, no matter where you go

No matter the time or place, There nothing like your shining face

Will words describe you?You are more than you seem

Elegance is the plausible dreamYou can set fire to rain

Thoughts of you dance in my headReleasing chemicals to my brainMaking me dream of you all day.

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Remember Meby Erin Heim

My heart aches for so many reasonsafter this many times I thought it'd be easy

a repeat of the sickness, an attack to my sensesher death is easier now but to memories I’m defenseless.

No more sadness without cause or from the changing of seasonsmy tears are justified now and on my knees I can't seem

to see that it can be dealt with ease and believethat the end of her suffering will mean she'll be free

I remember when he died and we watched him stop breathinghis body changed, the color in his skin receded

no prayer for peace or drugs could ever numb the acheI was certain then that nothing would ever hurt again this way

The patch of scar tissue that covered my heartdoesn't hold up like it used to and I'm breaking apart

she lays in that bed and all I see is your eyesand I feel as empty and alone as the day that you died.

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Waters View by Kaitlyn TowerPhotography

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My Memory by Erika Rech Photography

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San Fransisco, 2012 by Quenby ShereePhotography

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Ryan by Alex BrownPhotography

Mexi-skate by Alex BrownPhotography

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Kudzuby Erin Heim

Memories, twist like vines, growing upwardSpinning, crawling, grasping

Rooting themselves wherever they canFeasting on the compost of my mind

Oh how they grow so quicklyIn the depths where I cannot reach

Digging deeper into my coreGrowing taller and closer to my consciousness

Growing leaves, you're beautiful but you plague meSucking the sun I need

Suffocating me with the sadness you beholdUnable to move, or root my own self any further

I will surrender, wrapped in your holdAnd here I will remain

A hollow vessel, paralyzed With haunting memories.

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Nicolette NievesMixed Media

Joy-Amy AndersonMixed Media

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The Path by Robert FullerPhotography

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Minutes to Midnightby Roberto Arroyo

Just minutes to dress in whiteTo fly as angels and shine more than the sun at noon

To discover the realm and that of knightThe genesis of the soul and the inspiration of the mind—there

no moon

Minutes to midnight—the elegance of the life in front of our eyesAngels will see the tickaway of time till midnight is perfect

There will be many and even a surpriseThe clarions of the mind so perfect

Minutes to midnight, where the night will be day and days will be there

At the eyes of the dawn—she is their motherRemember the time and the tick-tack over there

Many will see their nest and their Father

Minutes to midnightWhere the sadness will never be and the fire will be our friend

Where the cloud will talk to hand down wisdom as a brightOn our forehead a precious gem—my friend.

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Dear Cinderellaby Joshua Cromwell

This is as honest as you’ll find me, with heart breaking,Literature, which I wrote

Plastered on my wallThis is as honest as you’ll find me, with hand written

Letters, pouring out my heartTo the one I loveDear Cinderella

Will you please find me up here in my castleWaiting, for you

CinderellaI’m still holding onto your glass shoe

Hoping that someday,Someday I can give it back to you, Cinderella

Oh, my dearPlease find me, oh God, please find me

I’ve been waiting to give you these,Beautiful things that you once lost

Hoping to win your love, your heartDear Cinderella

I’m no fair prince, not even closeExpectations are what scare me the most

But when all of this is said and doneMy bones are buried, under the sun

I just hope to God you heard my songAnd together we, can move along, my dear

Cinderella, oh, my dear.

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Turn Me On by Jenna Kay ZuyusMixed Media

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In the Stillnessby Lisa Silversmith

In stillness, the night arisesI grow dreary further still

I am restless and I am franticAs my fears bloom and while I panic

I dream and ponder as I swallowThis bitter life with a myriad of liesThe lies that resemble so many pills

That quiet and charm and spoil and chill

I lay awake throughout the darknessWatching the moonlight and the starsI dream of the past and of the future

Ignoring the present that's full of fears

I think of whatever I could beAnd of all the possibilities

I watch the shadows as they growThe more I learn, the less I know

There is a darkness to my torrid soulThat I must accept as the light fadesI swallow the last of the bitter pillsI comtemplate as the shadows fi ll

I dance around in the dry leaves

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Leaves that turn to ashes and burnMy self esteem wanes into a lump of coal

Black as the abyss and frightfully so

My snyapses burn as I turn coldI light the candle against the night

And battle the demons inside my mindThere is peace somewhere that I cannot fi nd

I take what I have left of those white pillsAnd examine them further in the darkness

I realize gradually the lies that they holdI take one still, yet the truth that I'm told

I realize that I may be dreamingThat it is obvious for the reason of my quest

I stand to sow whatever i've been reapingAnd prove to the world that I am the best

Gradually, my hopes began soaringAs the fruits ripen on the vine

My consciousness stirs as I quietly snoreI awaken to fi nd what I have left behind

I brave myself as the lights begin to fadeI toss and turn as I lay scheming

Attempting to hold onto my former selfI gather up my courage to take another breath.

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Tropical Sunset by Genesis BallAcrylics

The Mage by Genesis BallAcrylics

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Tessa ChuteMixed Media

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Highway Spiritby Emelia Grace

The nights have been reckless,Unforgiving,As the Darkness drapes its cold fi ngers around my succumbing conscious.I am ever-so-slightly—Faltering—Emotionally impaling myself upon thorns of regret. & then I saw you, standing under the fl ickering street lamp,Trembling in your soaked jacket,Your red jacket,Died with crimson, the liquid of your life,Stained upon your sleeves.Seventeen, that fragile age:Naivety receding,Reality tremulous.I saw you look up into my warm window, fl ooded with light,As you stood along the curbside,Shivering beside wilted roses,Littered by the wind.I saw in your face—longing—For the life I have,And the life you lost. You gently examined the soggy cards,Marking your fi nal breaths,Scribbled with last words,You’d never actually hear—And the stuffed toys,Childhood remnants,That your mourning parents placed with shaking hands,These markers of your death.I saw you gaze at me,A phantom in tendrils of fog—Clouded eyes lit with desperation,And I choked upon the air I breathed,Until my lungs burned with fi re,And the sigh of blood in my arteries seemed to cease.

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I placed my hand to the windowpane and exhaled,My whispers forming foggy messages on the glass.

But you stood there, a fragile soul, wrenched into purgatory,To forever wander the street of your

Untimely death.And you knelt beside the memoirs,

Cluttering the yellow patch of grass, beneath the fl ickering Streetlamp:

The moon shone brightly still, illuminating the fog with patchy Indigo rays,

Bathing your shimmering spirit with sorrow.I thought to myself,

I have life to give that I wish not for,And yet this child must agonize

In solitude,Yearning for a gift,

That he had torn away—Beneath the crushing metal plates,

And burning rubber tires.Oh, irony!

The blues of despair,The crimsons of passion!

Hues of distilled life,In ebony pools surrounding—

I blinked and you were gone, the streetlamp fl ickered forlornly In your absence,

The balloons swayed in the foggy breeze,And I, ever so slowly, crept into the recesses of

Folded blankets and cold pillows.I closed my eyes to see you there,

Tattooed to my lids,Mournful and jealous and scared.

If only I could sacrifi ce,This life I cannot cherish —

For the life you had stolen away,I would exchange this sigh of breath,

For your solitary midnight wanderings::::Amid a small world mourning,

I could rise to greet the dawn,While you fell into warm embraces,

And I surrendered to a yawning grave of constant slumber.

I blinked and you were gone, the streetlamp fl ickered forlornly

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Clock Tower by Aaron JalilPhotography

Votran Bus by Aaron JalilPhotography

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I Am, Godby Preston Johnston

Do you know what I mean?But the men don't think so,They convey in such a wayThe problems of faith rise,And days of meager feasts pronounce charmIn the subtle newsThat takes breath a moment To gather.

There is enough wine for an Angel's voice,We see in a dead ChristAnd God churns man slowlyFor a dense salve that calms His achesAnd writes his Fear and Trembling.He is thirty-three until, as a Pinned up doll,He leaves.

Haste is meeting God,Memories flood because God Is deadOr has been,More like Issac,A pretense of death, a Sudden rise and The point remains a star Outside heaven.No one wants violence on ThemEspecially God,

His mistake is still in the Old testament.

In his retired way he pours The human out,

Putty on work benchesNeglected like a child's

Project, Bent in that certain lightKeeps their fingers on its

Skin,And the theatre begins,

Nudges eyes into an Audience,

Bald chests make their way From blocks,

Lament the pass of lifeless Thumps,

When solitude reignedAnd made clay weep and

The stoicism set in.

Lament that time God took Worlds,

Brought them together.

In this act he died, fell from Thrones,

And clay took seatsThe present dead

And dead againLike Crystal castles of

Hegel,Man is God on God.

And the thrones rest empty.Save for the birds.

Their charitable high.

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Conundrumby Huong Luong

I spent all these years trying to be someone other than me.

Trying to change my roots.Ashamed and angry over things I could not change.

I spent all these years avoiding the truthThe lies gave me hope

Of another kindI spent all these years not understanding

That I had nothing to be ashamed ofNothing to run away from

I spent all these yearsYears I can never get back

On the idea that my family hindered meNow I am beginning to understand

As much as I can anywaysThey made me who I am today.

The good, the bad, and the in-between.I now choose to spend my days wisely

To understand fully thatThough they have contributed to my upbringing

In the end, I choose who I become.I am my mother’s daughter.

Strong and caring.The true meaning of compassionate.

I am my father’s daughter.Stubborn and opinionated.

Selfish at times, yes.But always taking the quiet disciplined role of responsibility.

I am only a by-product of my environment.Nature vs. nurture.

But I like to believe that I was fated to believein a little thing called free-will.

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Conundrumby Huong Luong

I spent all these years trying to be someone other than me.

Trying to change my roots.Ashamed and angry over things I could not change.

I spent all these years avoiding the truthThe lies gave me hope

Of another kindI spent all these years not understanding

That I had nothing to be ashamed ofNothing to run away from

I spent all these yearsYears I can never get back

On the idea that my family hindered meNow I am beginning to understand

As much as I can anywaysThey made me who I am today.

The good, the bad, and the in-between.I now choose to spend my days wisely

To understand fully thatThough they have contributed to my upbringing

In the end, I choose who I become.I am my mother’s daughter.

Strong and caring.The true meaning of compassionate.

I am my father’s daughter.Stubborn and opinionated.

Selfish at times, yes.But always taking the quiet disciplined role of responsibility.

I am only a by-product of my environment.Nature vs. nurture.

But I like to believe that I was fated to believein a little thing called free-will. Beholder by Jenna Kay Zuyus

Graphite

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73Starry Night by Kaitlyn Tower

Photography

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Blood, Sweat and Stoneby Steven Katona

The copper cobble crunches beneath my bare feet. It’s a road I walk on all

too often. You’d think by now that my feet would be calloused. That the stones would pass by unnoticed. Yet I feel ev-ery single pebble ever digging into my fl esh. With each step a blade of pain ra-zors through my body. What would nor-mally be a short walk, takes an eternity.

With each stride the pain gets worse. I know that every subtle move-

ment forward brings me closer to my destination. The freedom of pain is what gives me hope. It’s what drives me for-

ward. As I look down at my feet, I study the formation of the stones beneath me.

I see faces, animals, and shapes fl oat-ing in the river of amber. They appear to be people I know. People I’ve come

to surround myself with. Yet these mo-mentary distractions only temporarily shield the ache in my throbbing feet. To

ponder their whereabouts, their feel-ings, their love, is all unimaginable at

the moment. Cuts begin to form, shallow at fi rst but quickly getting deeper. Like a great stream, my stream. Currents rise, and

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the undertow grabs a hold of me. My blood paints crimson on the stones,

washing and diluting the amber river below. I continue onward. An enor-

mous heat swallows my body. It must be around midday. Sweat beads and falls to the ground. Sweat and blood.

The thought that bits and pieces of me are lying dead in my wake makes me

uneasy. It feels as if maggots are swim-ming in my stomach. The sun’s heat makes me feel sick. This walk is the

bane of my existence. What’s worst is a hill coming into view.

I regret each step twice fold from the one before. This road, this hill, it’s too much. The hope that the pain will

soon be relieved is not enough. It needs to stop now. I can’t take it anymore.

Each step takes minutes to take. I can almost see the top of the hill, yet I don’t

care. The pain is blinding. I falter. I’m on my hands and knees crawling on the road, up the hill. New skin is broken, blood mixed with sweat and dirt. My fi ngernails caked

with coarse ocher. I close my eyes and choke on the dust that is in the air. It’s

too soon for my nose to be so close to the dirt. However, I am overcome. I close

my eyes and succumb to darkness. I wake with a stir. I must still be

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on the road because I’m still in pain. My lips are hard and cracked. My mind feels numb, distant. My hope has been futile. I don’t want to open my eyes. I was willing to submit to the darkness. I even embraced it, yet following ev-

ery dark night is a brand new day. As I opened my eyes I could see the sun.

The warm to cool color pattern painted across the sky, yellow, orange, light blue dark blue to the beautiful violet of twi-

light. It’s morning. My eyes come into focus. Before me I

see a white flower growing in the middle of the road. It takes me a minute to reg-ister what I as seeing. Tears roll down my dirty cheeks. My hope for the soft-

ness of life stands before me gleaming in the light of the sun. I mimic the flower and get on my feet. I think about pick-

ing it and taking its beauty for my own. I might need its reassurance later. Yet I leave it be. It is a beacon of hope, shin-ing bright as the stars, for those who

need to look at it to find where they are. With all the weight holding me down, I will stand strong. Stay on my path, and

keep moving along.

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Flipper by Quenby ShereePhotography

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Escape by Ashley RobertsPhotography

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Joshuaby Lisa Swearingen

My love for you is adamant,I have been blessed, you’re Heaven sent.

Each time I look into your eyes, There’s no deceit, no dark disguise.

You have saved me from these pits of Hell,And released me from my padded cell.

I hope to see you smile each day,You melt my heart in so many ways.No matter what life puts us through,

I’d love to share it all with you.When you need me, I’ll be there,To comfort you in your despair,I love to hold you in my arms,

Feel so protected, safe from harm.In everything you say or do,Know always that I love you.

You’re constantly on my mind, it seems,I even see you in my dreams.

A dream of mine has now come true,For you have me, and I have you.

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Human Hearts by Huong Luong

How can we deny what we instinctively crave?This is merely how human hearts behave.

We long for love, connection, and touch.

Does it make us weak when we desire it too much?

I couldn’t tell you; I wouldn’t know.I watched love spoil and others grow.

Leaving anger, sadness, and hurt in its wake.From those who abuse love—take and take.

Turn cold, build walls, and swear off love.

What else in life is to be expected of?

React, retract, and refuse to fall.A peculiar outcome all in all.

But just for how long can we deny?

We’ll run, we’ll hide, and we’ll continue to lie.

For the one thing that we want the most,Its journey towards it is not something we boast.

We surely won’t come out the sameNor unscathed like how we came.

Blemished, broken, and bruised.

This is the only life we were able to choose.

For how can we deny what we instinctively crave?This is merely how our human hearts behave.

Human Hearts

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Unwritten by Chelsea PerezPhotography

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Clarityby Jordan Unatin

When there is a break in dialogue.A break in presence,

An end to a beginning, One can analyze truth.

Without foolhardy momentsOf infatuation,

Clarity reveals herselfFrom the nooks and cracks of

Delusion.

Step awayAnd observe the

Truth.

The truth will set youFree.

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Headphones Are The Shiznit by Jenna Kay ZuyuaPen and Ink

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LiterarylandLiteraryland

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LiterarylandLiteraryland

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Denise HayesEditor and Chief

“Mad Editor”

Lisa SwearingenManaging Editor

“Lisa in Literaryland”

Erika RechStaff Photographer

“White Rabbit”

Emelia GracePoetry Editor“Cheshire Cat”

Huong LuongLiterary Staff

“The Hare”

Lisa SilversmithLiterary Staff

“Catipillar”

Elena JarvisAdvisor

“Red Queen”

Contributing Staff:Jason WeingartAmanda RollinsSteven Katona

STAFf Aeolus Literary Magazine Submission Form

Student Name ______________________Student ID ________________________Email Address _____________________Phone Number ______________________

Written work should be submitted by email or on cd. Files should be in doc, docx, or rich text format

Photographs should be submitted digitally in CMYK, 300dpi, tiff format, no larger than 9in.

If you are an artist and need your work photographed please email us for an appointment.

All pieces must include the title and medium for all works.

Please circle the type(s) of work you are submitting:

Art Poetry Short Story Photography Sculpture

To submit your work bring the submission form and your work to building 130 room 119 or to email them and for more information please

contact us at aeolus@daytonastate.edu

or call Elena Jarvis at 386-506-3268

A publication for Daytona State College students, by Daytona State College students.

87A publication for Daytona State College students, by Daytona State College students.

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