By Cassidy Kee

Engraved

Your name is in my heart now

Engraved with steely blood.

No way you’ll be forgotten

Unless life takes me away.

But then we’ll be together

And your name will be said aloud.

To make me happy

Instead of sad.

I can talk to you

Instead of about you.

I can give you a hug

Instead of wishing I could.

I can tell you I love you

Instead of praying it to you.

That single name in my heart

It will take me places.

By Cassidy Kee

I Believe

I believe in the soaring eagle,

The distant horizon,

The future goals,

The reality of failure,

The rising sun,

Bringing a new day, without fail, always anticipated.

But if you think that I believe in

Judging others, you don’t know me.

I believe in world peace,

I believe that good memories will save you,

I believe in freedom,

Courage, defense, pride.

And I believe that a moment of peace

Will eventually turn into an eternity.

Want to see your poetry in the Charger Bulletin? Email Cassidy Kee at ckee1@unh.newhaven.edu to learn how!

Music

By Cassidy Kee

Music is my soul

It is my heartbeat.

Music is there every waking hour

And before I go to sleep.

Music gives me strength

It gives me life.

Music soothes me

Through every strife.

Music lives inside

Among my treasured memories.

Music is forever

And is life’s greatest remedy.

The Little Things

By Cassidy Kee

One arrow in a quiver

A string in a tapestry

A letter to deliver

One word in a mystery.

A feather on a bird

A body’s single cell

One person in the world

One stone upon a well.

A smaller part of everything

A smile in a room of frowns

One thing leads to bigger dreams

One up can fix those downs.

Don’t take for granted those little things

They help to move life on

Whatever destiny may bring

The small things pave life’s stones.

Arts@UNH is a program that showcases talented students and faculty, as well as professionals from the local community and around the world, all with much to teach about the arts that they love.

Viswanathan is an Indian-born writer who has lived and worked all over the world, but currently lives and teaches in Houston. She treated the audience to a reading of her short story “Cool Wedding,” which she read entirely in an Indian accent.

On Thursday, Sept. 13, in the UNH Bookstore, Professor Dowd of the English Department introduced two such artists to an audience of students, faculty and staff. The two women, Latha Viswanathan and Cynthia Arrieu-King, read some of their own work and took time to answer a variety of questions.

Viswanathan is an Indian-born writer who has lived and worked all over the world, but currently lives and teaches in Houston. She treated the audience to a reading of her short story “Cool Wedding,” which she read entirely in an Indian accent. When asked about what inspires her work, she answered “other writers…and bad writers.”

She then expanded on that comment, and added that she came relatively late to writing, starting as an adult after seeing enough in her travels to give her what she felt was enough “richness” and “pain” that she could comfortably write. Viswanathan has written a book of short stories called Lingering Tide.

Cynthia Arrieu-King took a different approach to her presentation altogether. She read several selections of her poetry interjected with bits of prose. While Viswanathan’s story was lighthearted, Arrieu-King’s selections were of a darker tone.

When asked about her style of writing, she spoke about how she considered her writing as being about difference, not about race. In response to a question about her influences, she answered that everything inspires her, that “ideas are really sticky and things collect to them.”

Arrieu-King is an assistant professor of creative writing at Stockton College and has written a book titled People are Tiny in Paintings of China.

The next Arts@UNH event will be a poetry reading by Phil Memmer and M. Scott Douglass on Tuesday, Oct. 9, at 6:30 p.m. in the UNH Bookstore

Many people know how poetry affects the writer—emotions pouring out, heart pounding, mind overwhelmed. However, most do not realize how frequently people can relate and be affected just as greatly when the words are spoken.

On Friday Sept. 14, “Flow With It Friday” displayed just that, beautifully. After Robert Durant’s powerful performance at the New Student Talent Show, I was curious to investigate what other students at UNH had to show. Casey King acted as the host of the small but powerful event. She is Vice President of the W.R.I.T.E. Poetry Club and had the audience going with her one-liners and DJ skills between acts.

She also performed four poems, including “Don’t Let Them Tell You Poetry Is For the Birds” and “I Am a Work In Progress.” W.R.I.T.E. President Crystal Robinson also wowed with a poem about fighting her demons.

Felicia, a Southern Connecticut State University representative, shared personal poems about overcoming depression and uplifted everyone in attendance. Other acts included a spin-off of “The Telltale Heart” by Edgar Allen Poe, and poems about almost everything: love, anger, suicide, respect and everything in between.

There were two acts of meaningful poetry that really stood out from the others. DJ shared songs that he wrote with his cousin in 1995 and in 2010, a confession and a religious song. While wildly different from each other, both got the crowd clapping and swaying throughout. Stephen Shepherd also stood out with his “Ode to Silence” joke and his “Snake” poem. The poem was told to a snake and complained about its activities while giving it a regal personality.

Overall, it was quite intricate. He also then showed a special talent that most people do not even know exists. His throat acted as a guitar making all the proper notes on key while he played the air guitar. Everyone was impressed.

For those who attended, “Flow With It Friday” was an emotional and impacting night. Everybody involved had the opportunity to express their feelings without judgment. Each act was followed with words of praise and a close-knit family feeling.

I recommend everyone try to look out for the next event. One will be held each month until the end of the semester and I guarantee you will not be disappointed.

He lies on the greenish-blue fluffy carpet, with his hind legs tucked in tight, the bottom of his paws resting comfortably on the cotton beneath him. His front legs limp in front of his lazy grooved body, one being slightly bent at the wrist. Between his two wiggly front legs sits his statue fixed head, and just below, his dark snout droops the sides of his lips.

The silent room around him only echoes distant creaks. Only certain sounds can be heard at this time, each introduced in intervals. The tics from the glossed wooden clock, the tapping on the living room window from the gentle trees outside, the slight grumble coming from the refrigerator, or even the mysterious squeaking of a door can all be heard before they awake.

As each revealing noise passes, his ears remain calm, patient. The wise eyes stationed on his face, face directly forward, towards the brown faded shut door. Occasionally blinking, the lids of his eyes slowly lower, but as every tic from the clock sounds, his eye lids slowly rise.

So there he sits, seeming lifeless on the ground, with his eyes slightly open and the skin around them as if melting. Dead as the house surrounding him, lays his aged frame. Quiet, peaceful, and patiently he waits; until his ears sharply sprout to the distant touch of a cottoned covered foot kissing the ground.

A Short Story by Michael E. Wilson Jr.

Greg was running down the city block on Canal trying to reach Varet Street as soon as he possibly could. He knew the bounty hunters had been looking for him and was trying his best to stay out of their sight. These bounty hunters had been searching for him for the last six weeks. He owed them a large sum of money that he borrowed to produce his films and had not paid them back. All of his projects failed and his accounts had been frozen due to overwhelming debt. How could Greg pay back twenty thousand dollars when he didn’t even have enough for a meal! Like you, Greg didn’t know the answer either. As he reached Varet Street he realized that the bounty hunters would find him on Varet for sure; he had lost all faith that he could escape successfully. He began to think up a plan. The bridge was not far from his present Varet. He then decided that he would jump into the river and give his destiny to the vile current. Greg was planning on drowning himself that sly evening.

As he approached the bridge he slowed down and began to feel relieved from running for so long. The bridge was quiet with no one in the distance to witness Greg take his life. He smiled as he stepped out into the edge and stared at the now black water. His phone suddenly began to ring. Greg threw it off to the side of the bridge. It slid to the opposite side of the bridge almost falling over into the ocean. Greg believed it to be the bounty hunters informing him that they were on his tail. Greg then jumped into the river and an amazing splash would have been heard if anyone was around to hear it.

Greg’s phone had stop ringing and a soft voice spoke once his answering machine picked up. It was his girlfriend, and she was telling him that she loved him and that she wanted to spend her entire life with him. She continued to say that she could never go on without him then “I love you, Bye.” and hung up.

Based on a true story.

In loving memory of a former friend.