Waldorf Literary Review

Archived Issue Featured

From the 1993 edition of The Muse: Blue Eyes

Your blue eyes deceive you Your actions betray you Your voice quivers when you speak- You thought I didn’t know-  But you deceived, lied, and betrayed yourself! Yes, you hurt me— But more over, I am disappointed— in you.   Now I can sit back- sit back and laugh- Laugh

Archived Issue Featured

From the 1996 edition of The Muse: Excerpts from a journal

Wednesday, January 17, 1996  I suddenly feel uninspired. We had chapel tonight and I really enjoyed myself. I just got that feeling. It’s hard to describe, and unfortunately, it never seems to last long in me. A feeling of wholeness and purpose fills me. I know I can do

Archived Issue Featured

From the 2003 edition of The Muse: Tears of the Sea

There you stood Back to the world Facing the sea.  It seems not even the waves Or the deep salt liquid Can turn you around.  I didn’t know what to do To make you endure it again.  Tear stained face; If someone asked you What was wrong you’d

Archived Issue Featured

From the 2005 edition of The Muse: My Meeting with the Aquatic Child

A child came up from the sea  His skin shiny and scaled  His fingers and toes webbed  Tangled in his hair were strands of seaweed  And bits of kelp  He smelled of vast fathoms unexplored  “How are you today? Asked the lad  “I’m coasting” I replied  “Lovely day for

Archived Issue Featured

From the 2016 edition of The Waldorf Literary Review: Car-ni-vor-ous, by Alyse DeVries

Archived Issue

From the 2016 edition of the Waldorf Literary Review: Guardian Angel, by Dean Swenson

Archived Issue

From the 2016 edition of The Waldorf Literary Review: Pockets

Pockets0:00/98.3651251× (Above: Audrey Sparks reading "Pockets")               I carry a stone in my pocket, tucked snuggly in the darkness with dimes, pennies, and quarters. Smooth and nearly flat on the bottom with a ridge on the top like a Colorado mountain range. A valley runs down

Archived Issue

From the 1996 edition of The Muse: The First Thing I Say

(After Marvin Bell) to an eighteen-year-old awaking, image of innocence, whisper of summer, I say through a door closed to curiosity, as I tap lightly and speak softly, chasing Morpheus from the yellow room, inviting the dreamer to come out into the world of things and doings, to leave the

Archived Issue

From the 2005 edition of The Muse: Music: A Reflection of the Soul, by Eric Guth

Fall 2024

From the 1996 edition of The Muse: True Love

When I look up at the stars I remember the time we held each other’s hand. The night was dark with a bit of a chill. As we walked throughout the night, I grew closer to you.  Not a change was there to be, for I am in love

Archived Issue

From the 2003 edition of The Muse: Striptease

Standing in your attire  like a bird,  you’ve preened your plumage,  a perfect beauty for all to see.  but nothing comes of false feathers. free your hair from bonds  of gel and spray, from sculptures  made for mass approval.  let each strand waywardly wander whenever it feels fit. scrape

Fall 2024

From The 2016 Edition of The Waldorf Literary Review: Cavity

The puppy was dead. She just knew he couldn’t be resting. Cati had been sitting in the dentist chair staring out the window. The window was an attempt to provide a source of distraction from the buzz of the drills, but Cati wasn’t subdued by the view of

Art

From the 1993 Edition of The Muse: Untitled by Matt Burke

Archived Issue

From The 1996 Edition of The Muse: Outside the Window

The wind whistled outside her window Reminding her of their song. He would whistle it to her As they strolled along. The roses outside her window Were in bloom bright red.  Reminding her of how it once was And the words he had said. The lightning struck outside her window

Poetry

“What is it like to be mixed?” by Vienna Rossmanith

This poem is the winner of the Top of Iowa High School Creative Writing Contest: 9th/10th Grade Poetry Sometimes, it is lucky. I am a blend of cultures and foods and languages and music and love. I am long eyelashes and warm-colored skin Hanboks and hoodies in the closet

Photography

See The Lights By Kalynn Marxen

Art

A Walk In The Park By Eli Lozano

Poetry

Third-Wheeling in Paris by Arnaldur Stefansson

Shivering in a thin jacket amidst an ascending wave of people. “Beware of pickpockets” the overhead sign warned in half-a-dozen different languages. I was already closed up, both hands in pockets– not open for business. The ancient elevator labored upwards, finally rusty mesh gates opened– we streamed into that sea

Interview

Interview With RS Deeren by Arnaldur Stefansson

Welcome! So good to have you here. Could you please start by stating your name, your occupation, and something else interesting about yourself? Yeah, well, I’m really excited to be here. My name is R.S Deeren, I’m the author of the story collection Enough to Lose, and

Art

Moth by Meredith Mulvany

Prose

Uneven by Tanner Smith

It was just getting dark when I grabbed a bottle of Guinness from the fridge in the garage. I’d been staring at a blank Word document for almost an hour and it only seemed to be getting warmer in my bedroom. When I returned with the beer, I brushed

Poetry

Exam 2 By Dr. Nick Benesh

1.) Sounds spew from a face hole. They seem to come from both sides, saturating the atmosphere with shapes and lines. Chunks are skewered together like a wind kabob. What do they mean? a.) Gentle weight catches the sleeve b.) Short-Term Memory c.) Long-Term Memory 2.) A dull chime sounds

Poetry

The Nature of a Problem by Dr. Elaine Bossard

August 27, 1936. Location: west central Texas to Canada, “short grass” bounded by the Rocky Mountains, “tall grass” delimited near the 100th meridian. The ordinary course of civilization created this Great Plains Drought Area – Settlers misled by their natural guides, mistaken public policies responsible for over-cropping and over-grazing – a system

Art

Cliffside Cherry Blossoms by Ethan Hexamer

Poetry

If You Give a Squirrel a Pizza Dedicated to Dr. Griddy by Tanner Smith

If you give a squirrel a pizza, he’ll ask you for a drink, so you’ll get him a glass of water from the kitchen sink. When he finishes the water, he’ll ask you for a towel to wipe off all the greasy grease that makes his tummy