The Oklahoma Daily (Norman, Okla.), Vol. 15, No. 34, Ed. 1 Friday, October 31, 1930 Page: 7 of 8
This newspaper is part of the collection entitled: University of Oklahoma Student Newspapers and was provided to The Gateway to Oklahoma History by the Oklahoma Historical Society.
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I
J
I
THE OKLAHOMA DAILY
)
'Mi WX
False Light
h y pwi
T 11111 1 niching out ol tlie brittle
tiM moonlight into a room glow-
rkly dully red from two small
1 v tin mantle lie sal slump-
thiir I knew the fbnr was un-
it : jit- yet It looked relax 1 anJ
I sjt in j riHktt out? tbat tilt 4
bjtk ''ii that timid not iKiuhlj
iw Sitli:iy on the edge my ft
J oiii to tlie fit- my lii td rest-
(! the ‘i’jII low rounded wicker
uk Liked u the dull red bulb a!--jost
i ihedded in the high brik above
in pi lev And she — softly rl wly
trr lirtgets ran ovir the ker of 'W
1 'uno
Mu- plavs The lire was inangc
Not hke a gas lire at all like something
painted there: turquois blue at the baw
iU- M mies laded into a grayed purple
raid in by brown red lattice deep Willl-
i tlie grate Drown red I know they
re white and hard "but nothing is
oal " I wonder why this feeling comes
Unreal' No we sit we three in
rialny Imaginary artificial lictilious
- none ol them express it Throrefi-
al hypolhitnal — now 1 am being fnn-i-iy
Ideal 1 lardly but I am ap--‘riudiini1
ii I alse I have feurd it
f alse heir
1 i I t-i i u music that weaves a pat-
rn tvr'Mtr me ha k to sit uxn the
ihv -iep a rountty house and hiing-
ng azam -hil irene music I listened to
n the trik
'I wo-idi win I plav almost M the
ml and th n somehow I can't linish
(omyh: 1 m -lot in the mood for play-
rig" s!- -aid
No Vi ii or in the mood for dreaming
You an l"o young to know that un-
I unishid i sir is best too immature (o
it el ibar nothing come to a definite
ml I ile ix a tangled web of loose
imh
"Music ili hs Something opens the
Ihxl gatiS of memory carrie me back
to ehildhoij Mr niotlvr played so
until"
Me vp:ke "ft diies Rut ir doesn't
artv j:ii Ivik so far Play ihe Rosary"
N- No don l 'I lie Rosary would
tx t-aih Plav something lilting
N'fnrf hin t defJt'lied Something that
till make me frel primitive if you will
Put don't flay ihe Rosary It is false
iIse Kosirv grasping tor a single sejr-
:r rhteiif thil was so fragile it broke
You are reaching lor it Why’ Who
red M play it so often that you sit-
iin? m ilu- shadow f should reach for a
issued broken strand
"I can't I don't know it' xlie an
IS'i'flsI
Ir is well Pour deep base notes a
treble n n F:ef Now am free to
walk ah nr down a dirty street in if
midnight hours and feel tlie life shot
me Free to look htik at those ragge
nds and know rhaf I would not reac
tor them if f could There will b
slu r threads woven they will slip ibr
ny fingers and hang broken just a
rlicse hang now-
Tonight This moment A fin
thread 1 am too near to we its lengtk
Too dose to distinguish the color
Abruptly she leave v the Knell an
itands elo-i to him her aim stretche
p io ilv r- anile her hair duvn ar
(Vin- Mv over a shoulder lie Lio1
vn iliie strelihing i -it-s
i lltr uyyfl'i
I lUi h' Uif rVw Or ii it i
Vilv V n iv iliit twtyOiini i ti
Out of the
Ode To An 8 O’Clock
By Mary Markin
rpilOUCdITS - Should have had a
A cup of col fee before coming to iln
class hate going to deep in front
of an instructor: after all it i a lousy
thing to Jo hut the room IS insuf-
ferably devoid of fresh air and with
suvh a lot of it outside too (Civiliza-
tion is little less than getting womrlbm
for nothing) No difference Elbow
piobably alinped dcsk' SlU
should have had that cup of coffee
i l lu? idea of a superman goes back
through Ncitzsche to Halo) Cut a
class yesterday— Rando was 'writing a
txiem and it was too intriguing to miss
It looked so simple— why w Inclines
would cone at a time— —
“And always my soul and the pin-
less sky-" Then he would sit draw-
ing whirligig a corner of the table
with a funny little stub pencil —
"And always my soul and the piti-
less sky:
My sands are numbered and my sands
are dry"
f--i it’s not so simple as it look
Why can’t everyone versify? It uct
a vivid means of expression (Butler
wrote thit a definition enclosing a
wilderness of ideas within a wall of
voids) Duller didn't need poetry —
there's something viviJ about prose too
It's all in finding the words
Tliit boy just in front — must be al-
ways wear pale blue heavily weaved
shirts for an amber-eyed boy with
unruly hair once sat just in front and
lie loved to wear pale blue heavily
weaved shirts That was so long ago
though 'Memories are queer things
hut there's more reality in retrospect ‘
(It s a foolish talk words only
scratch at things) That’s Ben Hecht
— -must be Irom "f-nk Dorn Should
have been listening — this very likely lias
been interesting But the room is sick-
tningly hot I:ive more minutes
That colfee will still taste good
'
Many of the anonymous poems
which arc printed are written by various
big business men ail over the country
according to Dr Frederick Holntbcrg
dean of the college of fine arts Every
person w-ho is really bu-y he believes
has some hobby far away from his regu-
lar work roctry writing satisfies
some
MAGAZINE STAFF
Louise Ca -- Editor
Nell Roberts - -Associate Pdiloc
Virginia Kran-ee Literary Editor
Elizabeth K Cawglll Poetry Editor
Du lores Slianei Assistant EdP-or
Ulldrrd Polls - — Assistant Milor
Elizabeth Hajei Assistant Editor
Patsy Truscott — — Assistant Editor
Whom'div hc mc in lhi chair? Who
sl’mW ':i do-c to him?
Don't ' Don’t! I would hate you
fi-e L-iting faVa envnions betray you
lie sikjVv "Vaya con Pi-n"
'I tVitkAsi 1 am
Ink Bottle
Magic Mysteries
By Penury Maguire
1SAW a bit of crystal today resting
upon a rock through which like ten-
derness in a hard nature ran a thred
of purest gold The prismatic gleams
shaded from white to deepest purple
as though a violc: had been framed in
tra apparent stone
What fairy hands had laid the gold
and amethyst upon such a foundation
it is net for man to know Only after
strenuous toil does the Earth Queen re-
ward llw toiler with a glimpse of her
splendor ' In unsuspected crevices her
jewels lie and upon thc heights and un-
der swiftly flowing cataracts slie has
hidden her gold
Down in the intermost caverns of
the earth tlie gold and gems are made
Gnomes and elves bring- the precious
materials from far-off treasure cham-
bers to be converts J into exquisite fine-
ness by the witchery of white fire
Upon her radiant throne in the vast
darkness the Earth Queen need not pine
for the colour of tlx? outer world for
magic flame and fairy fingers make it
all before her very eyes
The golden light of a summer’s af-
ternoon rests in tlie depths of the topaz
verdant plains share tbeir colour with
the emerald and the moonstone contains
tlse haze of Indian summer
June's roses know no crimson deep-:
cr than that reflected in the wine-cup
of liie ruby and all the summer sea is
hinted in the turquoise the sapphire
and the pearl Sun and snow are in
the diamond's brilliant sparkle and the
cvcrchanging hues of the opal hold sun-
set rainbow- and "the light of rosy
dawn”
©
Shade of Monks
By Mary Marlin
P
AN old benedictine bottle green-
stained with little raised crosses on
each side of the labels La Benedictine
Liqueur dc I’Ancienne Abbayc
and a horse shoe with ‘ D O M - be-
neath A lamp now with an electric bulb
protruding from the long narrow neck
Thar ratlicr takes away the romance
Wonder where the thing was made and
what the thought" were of tlie monks
who filled it wuh an amber-brown
fluid? ' And how did it get from France
iO the West Indies?
The last two years of its life have
been filled 'with odJ incidents
Ttpuggled in from the West Indies on
j tramp steamer opened with great
ceremony with appropriate toasts to a
bride and groom refilled with anise
a girl with a weak hearr almost
making tlie final gesture because of it
kicked about In the basement of one
house then displayed with great pride
over the mantle in another finally
evolving into a dcsk lamp with very
old labels of “Aberlour-Glcnlive”
Scotch whiskey and "iAing John —
special reserve” on a parchment shade
Regrettable that its early history
should : lost- What tales of old
France and of ci travel': could it re-
late? Fascina'ing Io Miimi-e But
tlten — myxl-ry i ilva-t more interesl-
ins than knowledge
God and a Dragon-fly
By Patty
11HE pond glowed like a burnished
- plate under the hot June sun The
slender pointed leaves of the willow
tree drooped still and green No move-
ment no sound only space existed and
1 breathed the sky I knew then that
the ancients were wrong: the sky was
not a ceiling for the world it was only
an endless nowhere There could be no
heaven with gates of rear! and streets
of gold as I had learned in Sunday
school There w-as no place to put ir '
A home in the skies — what could the
soul the spark of ! life do with gold
streets? ’ What did it want with a home
when it was freed of captivity? What
was it anyway but the skies which I was
breathing
Suddenly out of nowhere I saw him
poise and hang motionless above the
copper sheen Earth and sky met ane
were one in him His body was a pen-
cil of coal from the earth and his wings
having no color of their own reflected
the blue of the sky A moment he was
there then gone
Suddenly I knew My body lying
prone upon the dull red bank was of
the earth itself my mind was but a
transparent screen from which life might
be reflected Whether that reflection
should be smudged and foul or clear as
the dragon-fly's blue would depend
wholly upon the thoughts' which I ad-
mitted to my mind
No longer ‘ drooping ' listlessly the
willow- stood poised in a breathless
beauty: the mud which made the water
red was tlie same that made the pond
glow in the sun-v and tlie sky the sky
was not a far high ceiling — beauty alone
was the asm of life
' Q
Spirit of the Rain
' By Peggy Maguire
THG Spirit of Rain is a veritable
bird of passage in regard to her ar-
rival and departure expressing moods as
whimsical and changeable as our own
Sometimes it is a slow monotone like-
the response of a litany then again it
changes to a rush like the moving of un-
numbered wings
When the earth awakens from her
long winter nap this sprite shares the
delirious raptures of spring Tlicre is
nothing mow joyous than an April
shower — nothing more cheerless than
November rain
With tlie blood of June rioting in
her veins she dances wildly through the
worIJ ' Her silver wings flash through
the mist in the meadow and the thirsty
grass drinks deep of her liquid enchantment-
Her light feet twinkle upon the
forest floor io tlir castanets of dripping
leaves as she moves with lyrical grace
through the woods
Fern moss and lichen-all await her
coming and the little creatures of the
woods scamper to shelter to waLch her
mad carousal with wide wondering
eyes
She cast her chrystal witchery over a
weary brook and it straightway sings
again forgetting all its toilsome journey
through parched and dusty plains She
so fills the air with music' that it needs
but a shall of sunlight to lay a rain-
bow over ail tlie world
Sometimes her departure is slow and
Miiely but more olten tlicre is a sud-
den ule'm f silver in tlie shadow and
lo (br li vanished!
THE OKLAHOMA DAILY
A Bit
As Is
By Patty
What she would she couldn’t be
And what k!k could sIk- wouldn't
So rhe forgot the things that count
And counted those that rhouldn t
The ribbon red around lvr head
She wore she said 'to um? it'
‘A man is a man srd th love of a man
‘Is good for naiwht — so ahue it
An Old Photograph
- By Pstty
"I'hat” 'she' would smiie as if to say
'Your questions are a bother
of Verse
A Summer Morning'
Anonymous
I saw tlx- drops of dew upon tlw grass
And broken threads of gossamer
swaying in the breve
It rec meil liurJ shpncd from them
clear b-ad" of glu-s
Upon itw Mad Kyond the shade of
trees
I raw bcvo-J fhf fi-Msc-f waving wheat
Lkc rythmic diner swiyinj all in
tune
To the M'-Vi -f mo-king birds who
gaily poet
Ea-h morning with notes cf-gladness
(bat last till nxn
From out the dreamy vale of deepening
blue
"She would have been your mother floating bank of misty clouds arose
Confessional
By Mary Cornelia Hurtthorna
Moon glimpsed through elm trees
How I dress cr what I eat
Its naught for me you care:
Or liow I do my hair:
What men I loved last year
Or give my heart to now
(Sitting star-struck on a bench
Underneath the bough)
Moor Cold and blankly white
Impersonal as Death
What to you my opened mouti
And my quick -drawn breath?
For careless of my crystal laugh
Regardless of my tears
You'll not be adding two and two
To taunt me through the- years
Safely distant in the sky
You will make an altar
Where I'll pour my heart out clean
Nor trip my tongue and falter
-
Complaint
By Harry Johnson
I think sometimes that I chall scream
At some young men's banality
Why can't they when making love
Use some originality I
®
' Rebellion
- By Larry Johnton
"Doesn’t he look natural?”
Tlie red-nosed spinster sayv
Sniffling past your coffin ‘
On you funeral day
Natural? That grey-green corpse
‘ With lips compressed and tight?
When I can shut your eyes and see
Your gay smile flashing bright!
Natural? With the clammy skin
The color of the sky
! When a storm is coming up?
Natural? They lie!
I've seen your golden body
- Sprawled upon the sand
Tbe remnants of a sandwich
In one strong brown hand
' What will you do without tlie sun -The
clean sky and the sea?
"Seems just like he's sleeping”
Those fools arc telling me!
-
Daisies
Anonymous
Children playing laughing skipping
Flock the daisies white in meadows
green '
Wind the blossoms while they re
tripping
Wreathe their bonnets fluffy 1 silken
' sheen
Jump the rope with bands of daisies
Twine the buds in locks of golden hue
Sing tlieir sweetest little ladies
Winsome quaint in frocks of dainty
blue
Chubby hands hold light their treasure
With nodding heads and dancing feet
they go:
Noi a care to mar tlx-ir pleasure
Pure their joy ummcr'x sunset glow
dear
If I hadn’t married your father
‘Wisdom
Anonymous
Yon - knew
’ I was a dumb Freshman
And so you kissed me
'You told me that the stars
Were in my eyes
' And I belitved you—
And afterward
I learned
- That you could lie
Ode
By r H J
Most fascinating term'
You swing before my eyes
- Like a big spider
Dangling from above
Upon a silken hair
Of gleaming silver!
"Cringing': quotes the critic
You crumble up and stop
A shrivelled thing
"Floating” she next notes
You melt — a tiny cloud —
And disappear
Tlie silken hair alone
Swings back and forth in thought
I wonder who
First had the happy fancy
To let a participle
Hang dangling?
Frivolity
fiy Patsy
Today I am so frivolous
Arrogant and gay
I feel a homely kinship
With that top-knotted Jay
That flits so impudently
From tlie oak tree to tlw fence
And back again with strident "Jay
And much importance
You know today I'd like mm to be
A saucy jiy-bird in a tree
Beneath whose touch the sunshine softer
grew
And soothed my soul as a wind that
gently blows
’
Autumn Smoke
Anonymous
The night breathes black and de isc
And over the-hills ihe moon trctcikS
Away in a silvery - foamy trail of
1 dreams
: Th frosty air is full of hcauty
It glows in the iev stars:
It stalks like a phantom
In the shaking arms of the forest:
' It whispers in the trembling diamonds
Of the restless brook
There is a quickness in it
A lethargy of smouldering passions:
And a thought comes into my mind
Blacker than tlie endless heavens —
I wish that I were blind to beauty
And blind to life
dcadness chokes me:
The Azure above drops down
And blurs the silver over the hill
I hurl a prayer at the quiet ominous
night
And 1 cry aloud to the unheeding
heavens:
Close down about me deep and welcome
night
And bring what life has never brought-
Peace — endless peace
Sacrament
By Patty
I shall forget these earthly things
1 who loved you so
That 1 gave my soul to drink as wine
I shall forget and go
Leaving you peace I shall sweep
Blue skies on scarlet wings
One earth thing only shall I keep
The thought once you were mine
Oh I shall ride the winds tonight
I who-so loved you
Then I gave my body to break the bread
Tonight I shall ride the blue
Star flecked curve of an endless sky
In a never ending flight
And think of you as I pass by
1 he tombs of the eternal dead
PAGE
Stars
Anonymant
Cold white lights
So far so far away
Stndding the sky like diamonds
Flaking it with silver spray:
Formed into magic patterns
Made immoral in stories old
Known in every Arab tent
Where ancient myth are told
Cilm while lights
RJerllew as ol old-
Svihing furnaces of flame
lLw can you seem so coi-1?
Unsmiling you watch our progress
I’asMorlcss through the veai
Mocking mocking- forever
Our laughter and our tears
Strange mystic lights
So boundless and so free
Are you the eyes of vanished worlds
Or the eyes of worlds to be?
Are you the suns of other worlds
Worlds of laughter and song
Worlds of hurrying busy feet
Of sunset and of dawn?
Cold white lights
I know who you are
But I feel your God-given beauty
Tho to me you’re just a star:
Myriads of tiny silver lamps
Drifting in a sky of blue
Calling calling down to my soul
Ever to life be true — be true —
Iced Tea
By Larry Johnson
We sat together in the quaint old inn
Drinking iced tea together
Our eyes said things of gay young love-
Our lips spoke of the weather
The tinkling e made a clear sweet
sound
Suiting that golden hour
I squeezed a bit of lemon in
To make it a little sour
I sit alone in the quaint old inn
And the tea is made of tears
And slowly since you went away
The days have turned to years
And tho my laughter is still gay
All silver-dear and nice
It grown so brittle and so cold —
I'll chip it up for ice!
And as it tinkles in my tea
Just like that other hour —
I'll squeeze the drops from out my heart
To make it a little sourl
Envy
By Larry Jotnton
While Cupid handles countless loves
- My days from sun to sun
Are rendered simply maddening
With worrying over one!
Prayer For Valor
Katherine Kaufman
Give me the strength
Of that far white star
Aloof-complete — 1
Yet even as I
A single thing
In a settled scheme
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Pearce, Dick. The Oklahoma Daily (Norman, Okla.), Vol. 15, No. 34, Ed. 1 Friday, October 31, 1930, newspaper, October 31, 1930; Norman, Oklahoma. (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc1794995/m1/7/?q=j+w+gardner: accessed July 9, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.