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Page 8 The Other Paper The faint light of dawn is creeping slowly into the darkness. I lie awake, watching you sleep contentedly- memorizing your face, the smile hinting at your lips, and the curve of your body- memories to be saved for colder nights than this. The sanctity of this night, the gentle touch of love, and your soothing words will soon be replaced by the pain of emptiness- for when morning comes, you will leave me once more. My heart pleads, “ God, let the night never end- I fear the cold light of day.\ But I know the daylight will have its victory. Each second brings us closer to another soft good-bye. And the sunlight grows stronger. My heart prays, “ God, I just ask for clouds to hide the sun’s light from us for one more hour.” But I never see the clouds! And you leave. And after you're gone, the tears lie softly . in my eyes. Maybe next time the- night will overcome the day. (Maybe the sun will burn out while it is on the other side of the world.) ■ . * “ MUSIC 103\ We all could - use A little body underneath Arthur Unknown M lr montross SEVENTEEN (for my Psychoanalysis) The very fau Its I find in someone else are my own. J. C. Herman 72 the unknown poet DOEM NO. 1 if in my lifetime 1 i could use only half my love then my life would be fulfilled. if in my life i could use only half my knowledge then I would be brilliant but if in my life I only use half my lifespan, my time here would be wasted DM Ever so gently, ever so lovingly, his hand reached out for her. Softly floating on satin sheets, he felt her tremble. His love for her was so strong, he could think of nothing but her. And she, too, loved him with all that was her. And she reached out for him. Slowly, the hands of love, (with words of caring whispered in her ear,) started to slide over her breasts, past the nakedness of her waist, resting momentarily on her hip when she whispered, “ I love you.” , then advanced to her cream white thighs. Their love consummated-they were one. And enfolded into the arms of their lovers they slept in the bliss of love. - I. montross Love, Continued I’ll stop loving you someday, But, I’ll never stop living the days I loved you. Arthur Unknown He always wanted to explain things. But no one cared. So he drew. Sometimes he would draw and it wasn’t anything. He wanted to carve it in stone or write it in the sky. He would lie out on the grass and look up in the sky. And it would only be him and the sky and the things inside him that needed saying. And it was after that he drew the picture. It was a beautiful picture. He kept it under his pillow and would let no one see it. C And it was all of him. And he loved it. „ / When he started school he brought it with him. Not to show anyone, but just to have with him like a -friend. It was funny about school. He sat in a square, brown desk Like all the other square, brown desks And he thought it should be red. And his room was a square brown room. Like all the .other rooms. And it was tight and close. And stiff. He hated to hold the pencil and chalk, With his arm stiff and feet flat on the floor,- Stiff, With the teacher watching and watching. The teacher came and spoke to him. She told him to wear a tie like all the other boys. And he said he didn't like them. And she said it didn't matter! After that they drew. And he drew all yellow and it was the way he felt about morning. And it was beautiful. The teacher came and smiled at him. ’ “ What’s this?\ she said, Why don’t you draw something like Ken's drawing? Isn’t it beautiful? After that his mother bought him a tie. — And he always drew airplanes and rocket ships like everyone else And he threw the old picture away. And then he lay alone looking at the sky. It was big and blue and all of everything, But he wasn’t anymore. He was square inside And brown, And his hands were stiff. - And he was like everyone else. And the things inside him that needed saying didn't need It had stopped pushing. It was crushed. Stiff. Like everything else. (The poem was haded to a teacher in Regina, Saskatchewan, Canada by a Grade known tTai £ h°Ugh “ !s not known if he ac' “ally wrote the poem himself, it is fn r PNPO SU1 e a lew weeks later- The P°em originally appeared in GENERATION. Saskatoon-based magazine.) F it anymore.
