Thursday, March 3, 2016

SURFACE: A Final Issue

Banana Press Kauai
A Banana Press Anthology, 2016

SURFACE: A Final Issue

Table of contents:

Maxwell Movaghar:
Depression in the Flowers
A Melody in Remorse
Gem’s Six Faces
Hills
Johan Jaeger
Midday
Sunset
The Color: Scarlet
Aspen Wolfgang:
Lost @ Sea
Geckos
The Color: Yellow
A Banshee

Julia Randolph-Flagg:
Digits
Dear Humans
Exonerated
An Exhale
Desolate Meadow
The Captive


THE WORK:



Maxwell Movaghar:


Depression in the Flowers


The bees whirled passed her in a swarm,
flying west with the combined strength of a mighty plane
She held her hands up to cover her face
waiting patiently, and still
With the consent of the last insect she looked up at the meadow
Not a mouse stirred
The flowers released their beautiful fragrance into the air
The sun set alight every single color throughout the vibrant green grass
Her dress felt heavy when her eyes set upon a depression in the flowers
she slowly trudged through the thick stems beneath her
A deer lie on the ground, mouth ajar, crushing the daisies
beside it sat her brother, murder in his eyes
and a satisfied smile on his lips
The silence filled the empty meadow
And she stared at her brother, in horror



A Melody in Remorse


The piano played harmonically
Tears stirred behind her eyes, but couldn’t see the light
The echo of water hitting the dirt was taking the background
Thunder sounded far away
The cool wind rustled her clothes, tugging away from her
Outside the grass swayed to the cloudy west
The thump of wood rung
He sliced at the wood with a sharp axe
The door creaked open, the sound of rain made a crescendo
He walked in, firewood in one hand, an axe stained with rain drops in the other
His eyes were hidden under the cloak’s visor
But a smirk lie beneath it
A familiar smile saying “what’s not to like?”
Her lips lifted in the form of painful happiness, as his hood lifted to his shining eyes
The piano’s mournful melody attracted his ears
He approached the instrument and watched its keys fall and rise in precision
His beam warmed the room, “Beautiful song, isn’t it?”
Water ran down her cheeks, “Yes, yes it is…”
He turned over his shoulder, “Why Mother’s favorite?”



Gem’s Six Faces


Passion is quite the amusing word
I suppose it’s all amusing to me
But passion comes in many shapes and sizes
I suppose one could say that
passion is like chocolate
People differ quite drastically as well
I suppose one could say that
People are like chocolate
But who has ever heard
of chocolates harboring chocolates?


A lamb is a beast bred for slaughter
Animals are dull, insignificant, imperfect
The only animal in my heart is the dog
that leads me to my prey
Dog’s are not smart, but they are guided
by the same force that guides myself
The force that leads me to the old, the sick, the young
To spread the crimson ashes of those who feed me
To feel the warm, bitter red fluids of my own or another's between my jaws
That is the feeling of true life!


The world is quite the judgmental one
A deed by one is not as appreciated as the
same deed done by another
To be thoughtful is to destine yourself for use as a stool
Perhaps this is my role given by God
Do I have the right to change it?
Or do I simply lack the power?
Either way, every river will go one direction
When presented, they go down.


I find humans much like puppets
They can be controlled, albeit with some minor coaxing
It can all be planned, futures can be mapped in such a small world
They want to be controlled, every one of them
They just don’t know it
The fools don’t even know when they’re being controlled
No matter to me, I will orchestrate their symphony
Watching them writhe in rage and agony
Nothing gives me more pleasure


That was a good one, you read that, you feel good
When I say it, you feel bad
What’s the difference, really?
Tone, compassion, the correct “emotional reaction”?
I talk how I want, when I want to
Haven’t done anything wrong, said anything rude
It’s how I say it that makes it rude?
Well it’s what you say that makes you look stupid.


A warmth in the chest
The feeling that forms a smile
In a world of troubles all we have is each other to stay above water
To confide in me is a bond taken seriously.
To help another is not for myself to feel better, not to look better
To help another is to truly be intelligent
It is what separates dolphins from sharks
ravens from pigeons, apes from tigers
True pain is the inability to indulge in this feeling




Hills

I hate those hills.
I love the path.
I loved going through there in school.
I love the park that lies at the end of it.
I love my neighbor who plays tennis by there.
I love what those hills meant to me
I love what those hills are to me
I hate that spot clear of brush
I hate how it is too small for three people
I hate the way you can see the sunset from there
I hate that it’s off the path
I hate the day I found that spot clear of brush on the rocky hills that meant so much to me
I love the girl I brought to that spot
I love the way she made me smile
I hate the way she made me feel
I miss the way she made me feel
I hate the day in that spot clear of brush on those hills in the sunset, when I was with that girl I hated to love.



The Story of Johan

Warning: Minor language use

Real Name: Johan Jaeger


Code Name: Tremor


Sex: M Height: 5’8
Hair: Brown Weight: 160 lbs
Eyes: Blue Status: Active


Powers: Violent molecular disruption through aerial vibrations,
Kinetic absorption, Thermokinesis when in contact


Johan felt a heavy blow on his back. “Damn it!” Johan turned and shot a powerful blast, only to tear apart a hillside. Johan quickly turned and grabbed an arm that was descending on him. Pulling the momentum he slammed a woman onto the floor. She was dark skinned and grabbed the dirt with two large feathery white wings. She held two assault rifles. Johan froze momentarily. There are more? Quickly she regained composure and took to the air. Johan blasted at her, but was a moment too late. She hit him again and landed on the floor about ten feet away. Each strike felt like being slammed by an iron chair. “The hell are you?” Johan grumbled.  
The woman eyed him ferociously, “More human than you’ll ever be.” She leapt into the air and was gone. Johan searched for her in the sky, but found nothing.
“Fine then, personally, I’d like to keep you. You are intriguing beyond my understanding, much like myself, I suppose. But sadly, it seems I must educate you on my laws.” Johan shot powerful vibrations through the air. Flailing his arms wildly through the sky, until something stabbed his back. His gaze turned to see the women again, realizing her uniform donned a white belly and a brown back. Blood welled from the wound she landed on him, and he stumbled onto the floor slowly. Eyes in shock, Johan brought his gaze up to the winged women in rage.
“I have nothing to learn from scum like you, American. Consider this vengeance on behalf of my fallen comrades” Her voice was cold and unforgiving.
Johan laughed in a coughing sputter. “Comrades? You are a monster, girl. That is all they consider you. A dog they sent into war. You are your country’s bitch, but not me.”
She pulled her finger down on the trigger of her revolver. “Keep talking, see what happens.”
Johan laughed frantically. “You’re going to shoot me? As if. They want me alive, and you’ll do whatever they tell you.”
She grunted angrily. “If you’re so keen on bringing it up, what do you want out of this, monster?”
Johan snorted. “As if you don’t know. I want to liberate your people.”
“By bringing down their houses and tearing them apart!”
“Why, yes. Life is nothing but consistent pain for so many people. No one wants to live hungry, on the streets, or with a single arm. Countries in anarchy force women and children to do jobs men die from. We are all on a one way train to Hell. Isn’t that undoubtedly true...Let’s say I liberate four billion people.” The woman fliched, but did not release the trigger. “But I only dispose of the ones that won’t serve any purpose in society, that have no purpose in living. If I were to, our world will be sustained a hundred times longer than the current estimate. I’m the hero you don’t want, but need.”
“You are insane, and my country will be proud to know the sinful banshee died at the hands of the mighty Heron.” The shout of the gun swarmed the air, and Johan could see the fire of each one. Tens of bullets struck him while he was already lying on the floor. Heron grunted. “I fear no monster.”
The dust cleared and Johan rose from the blood splattered dirt, wiping his jaw. “I don’t know what this banshee nonsense is about, but the name’s Tremor.”
Heron howled. “No! That’s impossible!” Before she could fully take flight, Johan shot for her leg and tore open a large cavity. From the blood raining and sound of her screams, Johan lifted his arms to his chest and aimed for Heron, and released them down in an x shape, shooting towards the world in front of him.
A loud thud bore into Johan’s ears. Success. He strolled up to the bleeding women and sat down beside her. Her left wing was wilted and unmoving, blood welling out of it. He had to yell to make sure she could hear him over her sobs. “Do you feel that? Isn’t it wonderful. That terrible feeling of loss and pain, overtaking all other emotions. People live in that. Do you understand, girl? People are doomed to feel this feeling you have for their entire pathetic mortal lives.” Johan turned to face Heron and put his thumb and index on her cheeks, pulling her ear to his lips. “Tell me, girl. Tell me you want me to end this pain.”
The women only screamed and shook her head, tears streaming down her face.
Johan chuckled and rose off the floor walking away from the Heron. He shouted to her, “You cannot trust mere men with their own fate. It is too fragile, now feel the relief of being set free.” Johan turned and shot a vibration at Heron, her body splattering like a crushed fly.
Johan turned on his luckily surviving communicator. “Pick me up, Jason. The battle is over.”
His voice came through broken. “What took you so long! What the hell did you do! I swear Tremor if you killed any civilians you have screwed both of us!”
“Relax, it took a bit longer than expected, is all. I didn’t kill any civilians, will you just pick me up.”



Midday


She stands in a large town
All the new smells and sounds unsettle her
Her father’s warm hand keeps her from getting lost in the sea of people
Guiding her to somewhere safe, she is sure of it
He squeezes and releases her hand over and over in a familiar rhythmic pattern
She beams and mimics him like she always does, until it hurt and she gives up trying
Suddenly the walk comes to an abrupt end in front of a bar-like building
She feels her father’s hand melt away
He stares at the sign on the head of the structure
He takes a few steps forward with the girl strutting beside him
She startles when he puts his hand to her stomach
“Stay here,” he says softly, “I’ll be right back.”
She stares after her father as he walks into the bar
His every footstep making her shiver
“Daddy?” She calls after him. But he doesn’t turn around. Please be okay...
He steps slowly into a room with a grin scarred deep in his face
He’s never looked so much like his son
The girl turns away from the building and sits down silently, waiting for her father to return
She waits, and waits, and wait some more. Waiting for her father to appear from the doors, take her hand and squeeze it as they waltz down the street.
The sea of people dissipates into several streams
The sun nearly falls beneath a shop when the bar booms
The girl hears screams from the inside. “He’s a monster!”, “Run!”...Please be okay
She brings her gaze down to her shoes and frowns
Suddenly her body is blasted off her seat and onto the tough boulevard asphalt
From the building her father emerges and flames dance with him
The ceiling raining down around him in nimble pieces and laden wedges
He plucks her from the ground and dusts her off
His strong arms a cradle she wishes she could go back to
It hurts...She tried to hold the tears back, but they still managed
He brought his mouth close to her ear “I’m sorry.”



Sunset

An hour past the sun’s disappearance on the horizon
Buzzing in my heart races, excitement
Music roars with lights dancing
My friends sway to the beat of their partner
I see her, the flower of my dreams and nightmares
But my hand may not make contact with her face
The man in my pass walks through me
The bedroom fan wipes off sweat



The Color: Scarlet



Drip.
Down from the heavens the first rain falls
Drip.
The booming thunder sounds from above
Drop.
A roaring howl across the field
Splash.
Yet no lightning strikes.
Drip.
Another life taken in this cruel world
Drip.
Another companion stolen away by the rushing fluid
Drop..
Not a soul will turn to see him, they keep moving
Splash..
Not a soul will stray from the queen’s will
Drip..
Not a soul will turn back for his body
Drip.
Not a soul will remember what he gave.
Drop..
When titans clash, it’s best to be invisible
Splash.
Boom.



Aspen Wolfgang:

Lost @ Sea

He thinks about his newborn son, twin daughters,
realizing, he may never go back.
He breathes but the regulator cuts off his source,
he needs the buoyancy control device
But the bcd is shrinking
he is sinking,
The spare air system waits for him.
He finds it, takes a breath as his dive-buddy floats,
stares at him feeling bubbles start to soften.
hope is lost.
they notice that they are at a half a tank,
floating in an ocean a deeper blue than any color the sky could bear
I see double dots in the middle of this screen. They are reaching for each other because the one dot is having a blackout and he knows it. He's breathing harder starting to feel dizzy and
spots everywhere.
he shakes his head to wake up.
taking another breath his bcd fills up
On the floor of the ocean, his blanket moves as his wife moves.
As he sinks into the bed, the silt kicks up and distracts him.
little octagon-ish light beams flutter across his face
the whale above takes in plankton.
vibrations make him panic; the alarm goes off.
Water leaks a bit into his mouth,
morning coffee,
and hears the laugh of his children running down the stairs.
The merman smiles at him as he
grabs car keys, garage door opens,
boat passes through.
His head tilts
he feels the octopus tubing on his neck,
whales breach across his mask.
Breathing gets softer and softer.
He laughs, kissing his children, and mermaid wife goodbye.



Geckos

The small snake of the grass
The docile creature of walls
Seen and feared for no reason
Blending to the world enclosing them
They too starve
though they find bugs in the window sill
They too fear
Maybe its the strong vibrations
The warm embrace of sun finds them
and they soak it in
Tiny feet suspend slender bodies
Their home, our home or the foliage towering above,
and below them a damp and loamy surface.

The Color Yellow


Yellow.
is a horrible color.
Though it looks good on flowers.


I have four yellow shirts.
I hate them.
Unlike flowers, yellow does not look good on me.
Yellow on me --
yuck.
Yuck yellow.


Some things have to be yellow.
like bananas.
Bananas wouldn't look good any other color,
Especially black and blue.
I do not touch bananas when they're bruised.
It's as if they are used
or have been eaten by worms.


Time wilts bananas.
Time makes bananas mushy
and spotted -- 
so unappealing.


Hazard signs
Caution signs
are yellow. They need to be.
Stay away.



d Day


I have a tendency to blurt out,
say things i don't mean, shriek,
knee-jerk laugh -- and it’s loud.
Really loud.
People stare at me. They take it wrong.
I can say that the leader is leading.
I need help, but am reminded
by other thoughts
that not everyone
means what they say
or maintains. Still
I'm definitely not proud of my behavior
But I am reining in so much
You don’t know
Tomorrow
I’ll get back to faking happiness.




Julia Randolph-Flagg:




Dark Digits

He pats her head condescendingly
“there, there” murmuring faults into her ear
tracing tight circles on her back
long delicate fingers belonging to death
as if choosing the place to insert the knife




Dear humans,

You call us Bellis Perennis,
A weed. Do you know
how hurtful that is, how that four
letter word gives us a bad rep.
Yes, we like to unite
a noble enough pursuit.
we may not be much
all by ourselves, such as
the great rose
or perhaps the bird of paradise
but there are many of us
does that make is okay
to disseminate poison, leaving only
those you deem worthy?
Obviously you haven’t hiked to a meadow
and been rewarded with
a field of our sunny centers and
snowy petals glistening in the
sun. Or how the children bend
hands full of our sturdy stalks
with a grin stretched across
their young faces, how our petals
are plucked to determine if he
loves you? we are innocent
our purity is the most basic form
the clandestine kisses, the blushed cheeks
hidden in our masses.


Exonerated

Unscrewing the toothpaste squeezing the last bit out,
rolling from the bottom until a tubular extrusion
lies on the bristles he starts
from the bottom left molars with vigor,
half closing his heavy eyes,
he runs the rough fibers over and over
up, down, right, left. washing away all the detritus, and the day.
Scrubbing until his gums ache
washing away his bitten back and regretful words,
until the muscles in his face loosen and his angles soften,
and he sees the white foam
bending down to scoop the cool water into his mouth swirl, and spit.




An Exhale

Frantic breathing, rapid heart
the mouse scurries with a start
languid movement, evil hiss
to live in fear of death’s kiss
Its body moves like running oil
tensing, turning, tightly coiled
tongue darts out in anticipation
beady eyes look with fixation
hurry little mouse don’t get caught
run into that vacant lot
hissss, a blur of movement
reflexes with no room for improvement
the snake strikes, mouth agape
flesh gives like a grape
There is a gulp, a shiver
a warm breeze from the river
the snake slithers on
moving each scale away from the dawn.


Desolate Meadow

There is beauty in flowers and abundance.
There is also beauty in the lack
of life, of color.
There is splendor in the way deserts
extend on forever,
the lazy way
that the scenery breathes.
The eerie silence during the day
and the steady hum at night.
Bright yellow globes peeking from the dark

wild calls pierce the atmosphere

the feeling of exposure to the elements

no shelter.
The moon makes her presence
giant, luminous body, glowing.
her scars and grooves reminding the world
just how much she has seen, how old
the earth and moon have kept each other
company.
and when she sinks below the horizon
The mighty sun comes blazing in glory
sweeping the slopes of ground
and the world turns
gold, gold, gold.


The Captive

The tiny metal gate slowly creaks open
revealing a paw sure footedly stepping into the lush forest
the first time in months
amber contrasting with the emerald green
beneath its mighty claws
The lion walks out with a ballerina's grace
despite his massive size, muscles rolling
before dipping down in a house-cat stretch
his back a slope of golden wheat
his eyes the color of Mars
seemingly just as old, as if he too watched
the rise and fall of empires.



Editorial Positions:

Chief Editor:  Maxwell Movaghar
Assistant Editor:  Aspen Wolfgang
Art Editor:  Juilia Randolf-Flagg
Assistant Art Editor:  Aspen Wolfgang
Layout and Design:  Julia Randolf-Flagg
Copy Editor:  Maxwell Movaghar


BIOGRAPHIES:
_________________________________
ASPEN:
Max is the deepest, darkest color of purple you have ever seen...but in the good way. He is so funny and amazing with his little voice performances.
Julia is so pretty, so talented. Yet so amazing with her writing it's upsetting. She is like a big sister to me, I love looking up to her and being her friend.
Nikki is so cool. She gives us chocolate things and she deals with all out crazy days and crazy moods. She is so calm and keeps us zen when we are cray yet she is cray sometimes too! She is just a kid at heart <3 Love her so much!  
***
JULIA:
Max is a comedian and has a dark sense of humor while still being kind and making sure that he supports everyone he cares about. He is a fantastic writer and has tremendous talent.

Aspen is sweet and bubbly, she brings energy wherever she goes. She tends to have music playing and a way with people, allowing her to bring people together.

Ms. Nikki is one of the most genuine people I know, and seems like she stepped off a flight from Paris. She is always wanting to guide and support others in the hopes of them finding their strengths.
***
MAX:
Aspen --
Loud, Passionate, New
Aspen joined our class very unskilled and alone, but since she has improved exponentially as a writer and grown as a part of our class.

Julia --
Veteran, Talented, Badass
Julia also came in pretty shy, but was not afraid to share her amazing skill at writing. She too has become a great part of our small band as a strange medium between Max and Aspen’s conflicting personalities.


Nikki --
Kind, Encouraging, Wise
Nikki Girl is one of the best teacher I’ve ever had. She encourages writing and helps those who are struggling. Even though she was presented a small class with little synergy, she pulled through and got a lot of great pieces
***
Teacher --
Max, Julia, and Aspen work together like a pack of wild dogs, snarling and biting, making each other stronger writers every time they meet. "Surface" is the product of myriad exchanges that remind me what it means to work with incredible, creative, young people. Max gives the brutal truth while splitting our sides. Julia smooths all our edges. And Aspen, in all her capricious exuberance, adds zaniness. No better mix of wild and tame has ever come from nature.