Spring 2003

IN PLAIN VIEW

Writing From The Blue Gargoyle, Chicago Commons ETC, King Branch, Mabel Manning Branch, Project Hope Pausa, and Woodson Regional Library Writing Groups.

This 80 page issue features:

• Cover art and photo contributions by John Brooks
• Writing by 60 JOT writers from 6 of our writing groups including our new bi-lingual group at Project Hope Pausa.

Read work from the magazine! For more information on how to receive a copy of the magazine for $10 or to receive a year of JOT for $25, please call the NWA office at (773) 684-2742

IN PLAIN VIEW
By Almarie Johnson

They watch with hidden eyes
A stranger, cold hungry wondering
aimlessly down the city streets. His
mind is incarcerated inside epiphany
where people point and laugh to the
misery of his unwanted tears.
Drowning in endless rifts of pitiful
sorrows, the stranger come face to
face with his emotional scars. He
took a journey to the center of his
mind, where he became tormented
over his disappointing despairs.
That stranger just needed someone
to hold his hand and pull him out of
the condition of his own destruction.
Persistent poverty has robbed him of
his hopes and dreams. His spirits
have been broken, lost in history’s
hidden eyes, where people point and
laugh at the misery of his unwanted
tears.
Cold and hungry, his only hope of
survival will come from the love of
his family, friends and the powers
from above. Then he will be lifted,
rising out of the darkness of unfor-gettable
pain, as they watch with
hidden eyes.


BLUES SONG
By Charlie Clements

I drank from her dream-blue eyes
as they gazed at the moon.
Said I drank from her dream-blue eyes
as they gazed at the moon.
Now she shines in the eyes of another,
enchanted by this new lover.
And he drinks from her eyes like wine.
Eyes like wine
in perfect tune.
I felt the flames of her rose-red hair
as they singed my soul.
Say I felt the flames of her rose-red hair
as they singed my soul.
Now her soul burns for this other
who lives in the stars above her
And my heart is a bottomless hole.
Bottomless hole.
I dream her shadow on
the walls of my mind.
Now I dream her shadow on
the walls of my mind.
Well, I whisper to her in the wind,
Say, would you please let me in?
But it’s all a dream in the
passing show of time . . .
It’s all a dream in the
passing show of time . . .
show of time . . .
show of time . . .
show of time . . .
show of time . . .


EN MI COCINA
By Gabriela de la Huerta

La cocina para mí es un lugar muy
especial porque paso un buen tiempo,
porque allí se prepara los alimentos
diaramente. Me encuentro sola, es
un día normal. Mis hijos están en
la escuela. Mi esposo fue al trabajo.
Estoy escuchando el ruido del
refrigerador, es un ruido continuo
que hay en la cocina.
Disfruto del olor a mole que estoy
cocinando para la comida del día de
hoy, para disfrutar en familia. ¡UM
UM qué rico! Pero, siento un frío
inmenso que me duele el cuerpo, un
frío por el cambio del tiempo y por
la soledad que hay en mi casa. Me
gusta disfrutar un chocolate caliente
con canela, y un pan que trajo una
amiga. Disfruto de mi cocina. Me
levanto y veo por la ventana caer
las hojas de los árboles y algunas
personas caminando con prisa y yo
me encuentro en mi cocina.


IN MY KITCHEN
By Gabriela de la Huerta

My kitchen is a very special place
because I spend a good part of my
day there, because every day I prepare
the meals there. I am alone – it’s a
normal day. My children are in
school. My husband has gone to
work. I am listening to the sound of
the refrigerator; it is a continuous
noise in the kitchen.
I enjoy the smell of the mole I am
cooking for today’s meal, which we
will enjoy as a family. Yum, yum,
how delicious! But I feel an immense
chill that hurts my body, a cold that
comes with the change of the weather
and the solitude in my house. I
like to enjoy a hot chocolate with
cinnamon, with a piece of bread my
friend brought me. I enjoy my
kitchen. I get up and look through
the window. I see leaves falling from
the trees and people hurrying, and I
find myself in my kitchen.

© 2003 Neighborhood Writing Alliance
All rights revert to the authors.