Fall 2024 - Waldorf Literary Review

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Fall 2024

A collection of 20 posts

From the 2007 edition of The Muse: Auschwitz

Archived Issue Featured

From the 2007 edition of The Muse: Auschwitz

Ashes to ashes Dust to dust Here we are again With a passionate lust To fill the night sky With powder of gray Falling from heaven In the simplest of ways Seeming so beautiful One could almost pretend That the snow of such luster Was not long before, a man

From the 2011 edition of The Crusader: Forgiveness

Poetry Featured

From the 2011 edition of The Crusader: Forgiveness

I told you: it feels like bugs, Millions of bugs (tiny ones) Sprinting under my skin. Blood- drowned ants infest me, & die: a sad diagnosis: over indulgence. You jog every day at four I stare at the bugs crawling the cracked sidewalk, listen for the sound of your shoes

Fall 2024 Featured

Interview with Keith Pilapil Lesmeister by Jadyn Collins

Why did you start writing? I think ultimately I started writing because I wanted to record family stories. As a kid, I was told so many outlandish stories about my family—stories I won’t bore you with now—but they’d made an impression, and I wanted to be

From the 2007 edition of The Muse: Abandoned, by Michelle Day

Archived Issue Featured

From the 2007 edition of The Muse: Abandoned, by Michelle Day

From the 1995 edition of The Muse: Coming of Age

Archived Issue Featured

From the 1995 edition of The Muse: Coming of Age

I heard a child ask his father, “Daddy, what is true?” “My son,” the father answered, “I can certainly tell you. I know all the rules of life. In fact, a few I’ve made my own. All the limits are defined. All the variables are known. Yes, there are

From the 1992 edition of The Muse: For Cathy

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From the 1992 edition of The Muse: For Cathy

Flash of red-streaked, sunlit hair, Smile of radiance warming quiet, peaceful thought; Loudest heart of all I’ve known, Teacher of the lessons I have taught. Would this spirit mixed with mine Not storm the walls of freedom’s maze, Clearing darkness stuck to wisdom wrought of pain, Proving courage

From the 1993 edition of The Muse: Darkest Night

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From the 1993 edition of The Muse: Darkest Night

I’ve never still the dark earth seen so bright, And days cannot compare and be so dark, As then when I saw night by her live light With friends among limbs of wet leaves and bark. Love’s beauty filled the rain soaked wet, wil grass: I soaked it

From the 1993 edition of The Muse: Blue Eyes

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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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

From the 2016 edition of The Waldorf Literary Review: Pockets

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

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

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

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

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

From the 1996 edition of The Muse: True Love

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

From the 2003 edition of The Muse: Striptease

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

From The 2016 Edition of The Waldorf Literary Review: Cavity

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

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

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