Crux

By: Red Raven


October Thirty-first
Was the day I lost you
Losing you I lost
Morals
Friends
Myself

I changed my way of life
No longer having to look for approval
Constantly searching to be amazing
In your eyes

I look for love in others
Since I can’t find it in you anymore
But failing to feel that in return
That warmth and comfort I once found
In you

You probably look down on me now
Wondering what I have become
Besides a failure
A person you can’t even recognize
Someone without hope
Without guidance
Without love

Everything I longed for
from you

The Marta Creeps under the City

By: Surreal as Sunlight

Treading foreign ground
Trying to make foreign into familiar
but nothing gives in

the city refuses to succumb

The city is strong
strong against us

The city is not for us

They

own the city.

They rule the streets.
Their music floods the streets.

We watch our backs.

Your Impatience is Ridiculous

By Hopeless Hopeful


Your impatience is simply ridiculous,
for as soon as you feel that slight hint of anger,
your soul is swept away in
the rapid eruption of rage and wrath,
logical thinking becoming a lost cause to you.
This day has paved the road of instance and ease,
so you walk that path like so many others.
You will take a trivial event
and use that as your springboard to dive
into all your empty conclusions,
a pool with no water.
Combine that impression
with your easily irritated emotions
and punch your problems
in the face
to destroy the things that you can’t comprehend
right away.
Go with your gut and kick him in his,
and he will cry to you with
a bloody, broken face
and a bruised spirit:
“Please, stop and wait.
This was just
one big
misunderstanding.”

Penumbra

Arson! screams the haunted man, as he ignites the match within his hand,
soon the figure erupts in flames before the end of a wink, as the frantic torch becomes a smoldering wick.
To scar into the minds of the plain, injecting personal view into the marble vien, what the heroic will remember as a panoramic tide, time will rename a pyric suicide.
No words to describe this apathym care nothing for noone, dont say jaded, call what you see, a callosed backlash of fate, living beyond misanthropy.

An Exaggerated Form Of My Father

by steadfast twilight

My father comes in the form of
a child support check once a week.

His face is the return address in the
upper left hand corner of the envelope.

His warm, embracing arms;
the flap that seals the envelope shut.

And his heart is the contents inside the envelope for the day.
And I cry every time I open him because I'm afraid I'm hurting him.
I'm afraid I'm cutting him open like a surgeon performing a bypass.

When I'm done looking at what's inside, I put the envelope down. Empty. Sitting with all the other mail and envelopes strewn on the kitchen table.

Good Times

By Hopeless Hopeful


I am breathing in my memories,
and dwelling in these pictures.
Times long past, but new and fresh
each time I bring them out.

So many faces revealing immeasurable emotions.
Smiling, silly, sleepy, serious.
Laughter.
Love.
I miss it.

I pray I might someday
feel the familiar surge of
exhilaration
and
bliss
that I so long for
when I am with you,
and you, and you, and...

Things always look better through the luster of
a photograph.

A new thing?

by: all on black

I’ve become a prisoner of your routine.
A part of your day,
you find disinteresting and standard.

A period of time spent that’s predictable.

I’ve tried to free myself from this roll.
To make you remember,
there’s feeling in every kiss.

But you just end up more detached.

I’ve never liked being equated to.
A sport you play,
or a chore you do after school.

But because of our comfort in each other,
I still hold you in high regards.

The Reward of Death

by: Surreal as Sunlight

Dragging in this desert
Pricked by the past
With every impossible step
To this I was cast

A thirst tortures me
A thirst for mercy
A thirst for freedom
A thirst for forgiveness

Images that sting
For my eyes I plead
Inseparable from the feeling
I succumb my healing

Until I find the river of Lethe
to peel away the dirt
that was left on my body
in every wound that hurt

Take a sip from this water
It burns like brandy
But empties all the cerebral bacteria
That has infected every memory

Unfortunately, the problem now
Is I am no longer living

your flawless entry

by Turtledove

You bounded upstairs
and I begged you not to.

I ran ahead
determined
to clean my mess up.
to clean myself up.

As you waited outside the door
I wondered why I even bothered
in the first place

What was I going to change?
What was I going to fix?
What was I going to hide in the closet?

Because you were probably going to find out
sooner or later.

I couldn't stop once I started.

But I wonder what you would've done
if you'd seen it all

I should've let you go.
Run upstairs, boy.

Opening the door,
getting pinned with my past

I'd like to see
if you would've stayed
despite all my dirty laundry.

K.U.I.

by: Surreal as Sunlight

You knew it was coming
Nobody is suprised

It's not taking advantage
if both parties are under the influence

I don't know why
She hangs from you
Like you're the top of the mountain
And she's untied and loose

I feel sorry for the ground you walk on.

If she would just let go
She would see
that the bottom is cushioned

And the view from the top
isn't so great anyway

Decisions

by: all on black

I’ve been trapped,
in this room,
for ages now.

Looking for something,
to find my way out.

I can’t feel anything,
familar to me.

And soon the room,
gets darker,
smaller.

My mind plays tricks on me,
nothing feels tangible.

I can't find anything,
that I can trust.

I open my eyes wide,
hoping to see my way.

But all there is,
is darkness,
confusion.

I can’t decide,
if I should stay or escape.

And I don't believe how,
I ended up this way.

All I want to find,
is a light,
an answer.

Why did I even bother

by Turtledove

My left hand is body temperature.
My right is frigid... and I don't know why.

It wont accept the left's pitiful attempts of heat transfer.
I'm not sure if it's being selfless or stubborn.

Can't help but see a pattern lately

When things finally get going right,
something else freezes.

Accepting the frost-bitten fingertips,
breaking
its icy self off.

Leaving the left with no companion.

I REPEAT...

For those of you who don't know, Literary Magazine is Naperville Central's art/poetry/story magazine.

How LitMag works is anyone in the school can submit photos, drawings, any type of art, poetry, short stories, essays, dramas, anything LITERARY and the people on the LitMag staff will go through every submission, and basically pick which ones suck and which ones are worthy.

If you want to submit your work, you can start now!!! Submission boxes are in the library, Room 40, and Room 308. You also need a cover sheet to attach to each writing/drawing/photo/painting which you can find in almost any English classroom. And if not that, go to room 308 and Mr. Hayward, our supervisor, will be glad to supply some for you.

So this is to all of you who write on this site; I highly recommend submitting to LitMag because there is some FINE work on this site which you all should be very proud of. I hope you all submit to LitMag so your voice can be heard.

-steadfast twilight

Politics Shmolitics

By Hopeless Hopeful


Don't ask me about my "views",
I have none of my own.
How about let's NOT talk about
the many controversial issues?
You won't get much out of me.

You can call me:
stupid,
uneducated,
ignorant.
I could care less.

Don't make me think about the future.
I can barely deal with the here
and the now.

You speak of these men as if they were gods,
Blinded by their celebrity.
Here, take my sunglasses.

Don't force this boredom upon me.
I won't handle it well.
I have many interests of my own,
and clearly, this is not one of them.

I've gotta stop writing about nature

by steadfast twilight

Our backs faced the sun
Warming its rays and persuading us to fall for the trickery at hand.
We wouldn't let it take the day away.
The angrier we got, the faster it faded.
But what about this?
And what about that?
And what about...

Let it go. It's over.
Just remember your memory will never perish.