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Archive for March, 2012

Phoenix, by Kwame Grayson


Those Colorless Bastards, by Kwame Grayson


Phoenix Now, Issue 2!

New  Phoenix Now Issue 2


Phoenix Now Issue 1

 

 Free fantastic, student-created magazine

 

 

 

 

 

Group Poem by: Jason Kolodzyk Brandon Haut Tasha Levy Hollerup Richard Plevak III Elise Boucher

“Narcissistic_culture.com”

 

1. He writes his own news with large, sullen eyes that swallow

whole towns, larger than lives,

    And blends what he “knows” with the things that he thinks through the

headlines and news-feeds and patterns of ink.
But it is nothing, in the scheme of things. Nothing that his sullen eyes
have seen and nothing that his clouded ears have heard.

That make him write with such fervor,

Such passion as the candle burns down to dim.
2. She smells his passion, inhaling fumes from the soaked, bleeding coffee filter,
discarded with his crumbled thoughts, his day’s work undone.
What did it all amount to?  They, the people, read him, but, she thinks,
do they hear his empathic scream?  Is it worth listening to?

And yet, she sits–day in, day out, scratching notes, messages, tapping keys,

Focusing on the dripping clock, on her taxi and her fiancée. And she thinks,

Is this the only place I’ll go? Or can I upturn the shredded paper soil

and late-night roots, and grow beyond the page’s fog?

3.  They stumble in circles like whirlpools, pulling the mists behind, eyes clouded and cold
and drowning in the ice they make, the shards that stab their hearts
Life-force dripping into the soft snow forms the words of their struggle:
This cycle will not end
It will be born again with you, with another, unknown
Pain and love will always be visible to us
    It is the pattern that pulls them together, threatening to tear them apart– again

____________________________

Follow @matcphoenix on Twitter for more info!


Jaycee, by Amanda Polakowski


*NEW* OPEN MIC EVENT, Tuesday, May 1st at the West Campus from 1-3:30 p.m.

 

THE MATC ENGLISH DEPT & THE MATC PHOENIX  PRESENT…

OPEN MIC EVENT

HOSTED BY THE MATC PHOENIX LITERARY & ARTS SOCIETY
 

WHO: ALL students, faculty and staff are invited to perform or be part of the audience!

WHAT: Sharing creativity through poems, essays, fiction, nonfiction, art, photography, music, etc.

WHERE: In the cafeteria on first floor of the main building at the West Campus

WHEN: Tuesday, May 1st  from 1 until 3:30 pm

THEME: While not mandatory, we encourage sharing art, photography, and giving readings of pieces which in any way explore the theme of “rebirth.”

FREE: Free copies of the literary and arts magazine, Phoenix Now, Issue 2, will be given to all participants!

TO PERFORM: Email kolodzyj@matc.edu with proposed content by 11:55 p.m. on April 30th, OR arrive and sign up at the event by 12:45.  Readings will be limited to 5 minutes.

 

Visit matcphoenix.com and follow @matcphoenix on Twitter for more info!


Uggs, by Silver Moua

It started on a girl’s night out. I was meeting up with my girlfriends at a bar called Ugg’s. I was at home getting ready to go out when my phone beeped. It was Kelly. Kelly had texted me to meet them at ten thirty. I paired my denim jeans with a black top and heels. Then I drove to Ugg’s and saw that the parking lot was full.

As I walked in I heard country music. There was a dance floor with red, blue, and green lights in the ceiling. There was a live country band that sang and played their instruments. I looked around for the girls and saw them waved at me near the corner of the bar. I walked down to join them. All the girls had been there. We had drinks after drinks. Laugh after laugh. We had taken at least ten cherry bomb shots. I started to feel hot and my head started to spin. The alcohol started to kick in my system. I stopped drinking after my sixth bottle and had watched the rest of  the girls get drunk. They talked, yelled, and laughed. I saw couples kissed on the dance floor. Across the room there were guys that played pool. The girls had decided to take another shot when I had gone to the restroom.

When I came out, I made my way around a table of four to get to the bar and suddenly a brown stool flew across my path. A woman had fallen hard on the floor. I stopped. I didn’t know what to do. Should I help her? Should I ignore her? She wore a black sweater with a green V-neck shirt. She looked like she was unconscious.  I stood there for two in a half minutes and stared at the woman on the floor near my toes. I looked around to see if anyone else had noticed or offered to help. A man that sat on the right looked down at her. He rolled his eyes then turned back to take a sip of his beer. A woman in a blue shirt had done the same.

A six foot security man came and grabbed the unconscious woman off the floor. I watched the women in the blue shirt as she yelled at the security man. She said she saw him lift up the unconscious woman’s shirt. They had argued back and forth as he held the unconscious woman. Everything seemed like it was a movie that played in front of me. I didn’t know what to do but to let it play. I couldn’t press the pause button or the rewind button. I turned to my girlfriends and they weren’t aware of what had happened. Was I the only one that watched it?

As the man held the woman up, another man came. He was about five feet five wearing a gray shirt. He bent down on both of his knees and attempted to zip the woman’s sweater. I couldn’t stand it any longer and went to ask him if he needed help. When I went to ask him, I saw the woman’s two breast hanging down just like her head was. Her shirt and bra was high up to her collar bone. Her eyes were closed and her legs were heavy to the floor. The man in the gray didn’t look at or answer me. I saw that he had a hard time zipping her sweater up to cover her naked chest. I wasn’t sure if the man came with the woman, nor if he knew her at all. Then the security carried the unconscious woman out the door. Before the man in the gray exited, he took the woman’s purse and shook hands with the man that rolled his eyes. I couldn’t help it but feel scared. Not for me but for her.