The daily Nebraskan. ([Lincoln, Neb.) 1901-current, March 24, 1956, Page Page 3, Image 4
Fridoy, Morch 24, 1956 THE NEBRASKAN Pogg 3 Four Poems the nebrask emew a n Psd iter ary JUL V' Suffer me not to see again the pearl misted candling of morning upon the pebble mosaieed crescent the dove breasted beach the youth fevered girl of salt in the sea, of shivered laugh, skirt gathered safe from the sea salt rush of edge, the quick-breath tracking pace of her numbed feet in the sand; for I am older and fear the sea. II Bell upon white scarved bell beat rung to praise her name In the white chrysanthemum garden walled in the wrought iron night, rung to reach a cloistered tower sounded in rock fitted chamber groin rung through her green robes opened wing wide the gardener's hand weave drowned in her hair. My pealing bells sounded only as stone, stones to be flung beneath the sea. The black wet brush stroke twigs rain pocked rims of new grained earth break through the morning robbed of pearls ring up the cruel noon day sun the black heart sun of island killers banish far my long haired love my dove cool girl of the early dew into the land of lion maned beasts shagging their manes in the black heart sun the towerless land of the black heart sun. IV In dawn of wet noon curtained were set torches to the drowsy owl's nest, were ribs sabered from the lover's heart, naively, as death unto love parts sea from land, as semen-wall jaws of vinegared flesh or serpent reaches in marrow red sockets hammer the tooth through the heart, the cactus through stone. And eyeless, heart shouting the air, I hobbled from the fire on the bones of my crutches aching for the song to begin, each voice in its gentle turn. Frank English The Ant Who Said He Hated Spider By Ana Gertie Once upon a time an ant lived on the 93rd floor of the Em pire State Building. He didn't like to work very well, so he often secretly crawled up to the tower to watch the spiders. He thought it would be great fun to swing out into space on nothing. But whenever he was with his friends and saw a spider, he told them be thought spiders were the ugliest, most useless things on this earth and he certainly was glad he be was an ant. One August evening after a scorching hot day, one of the ants found a jug of hard cider in a closet on the 88th floor. Pretty soon, the word got around to all the ants from the 75th floor on up, and they gathered in the closet and had a big party. By the time the jug was almost empty, everyone was feeling pretty good. They began to brag, and the ant who said be didn't like spiders said he could do anything a spideT could. "You're talking through your feelers," challenged one of the ants. "Ill prove it! Lesht's go up the tower," retorted the ant, and they all staggered up the stairs to the tower. They crawled up on a ledge, the ant spun aa imaginary web and everyone laughed. Just as the ant was going to pretend to jump into space, a gust of wind blew him into the blade of passing helicopter. The rest of the ants were so surprised that they fell back wards and were trampled by a group of passing tourists. MORAL: Da not pretend to he a spider wbea yoo are fH f kardeaed elder. Help From The Skies ... a shorf story . . "I cant see a damn thing!" Waldo turned around. "Damn it. Bob don't you have any idea where we are?" Bob, who was trying to peer cut between the two pilots, shook his bead. He didnt look at Waldo or at Ritts, the co-pilot. His face, normally a mirror of good humor, was twisted into a worried pucker; a trace of fear was in his eyes. He was squinting as if he could force the appearance of land out there through the cockpit window. "Damn, Waldo, we were in the ecud for over three hours. I couldn't shoot the sun, I couldnt read drift, the radar and loran isn't worth a damn. I'm not a magician. According to my DR., we should be over the Island, but, bell, we could be anywhere in the Atlantic." Waldo shook his head. "What a One Your time cut ChrM to ribbons f 4 ark Pitted with Silver and yellow Crushed wetaeas) sorrow. It came milk fee shaving FrttseTs '"La soupe seulemeat" VteadaEclng air greyed Blackened bair and eye Of yourself Now away. AfJ fadiaoernable. WaHy Simpitoa stinking mess. Ritts, can you get anything on the bird dog?" Ritts didnt answer. He was working with the radio-compass. His fingers expertly turned the fre quency dial, while bis eyes were glued to the small white needle that drifted aimlessly around the compass rose. Every so often he would clamp the ear phones tight to his ears with his free hand, and train to catch some signal. Finally he shrugged, took off the ear phone and looked at Waldo. "Not one blessed thing; just static ever all ranges. Can't even get that high-powered range from Spain." Waldo nodded. 4 'O.K. So now we start earning our money." He flicked on the intercom. "Dave?" Ye. sir?" "Get on your short-wave set and try to reach somebody, I don't care who. We need radio steers bad. Report back when you get someone," 'Roger, sir." Waldo grunted, then called again on the intercom. "Mac. Mac!" He cursed and turned arrund. He could see the engineer back at his position writing in the log. Kis ear phones were on the table. fable Waldo shouted at him, and Mac looked up. Waldo pointed at the ear phones, waited until the engi neer had put them on, and beard him say, "Yes, sir. Engineer on intercom." "Look, Mac. Check our fuel; find out our best altitude for con sumption. We might need all the time we can get. Report back to me as soon as you can." "Roger, sir." Waldo took off his ear phones, rubbed his ears, then turned to the navigator. "Bob, get back to your crystal ball and see what yoa can do." He grinned. "I don't care if yon hold a seance back there, but find out something. I aint too good at swimming. I'm gettin' a little too old for that kind of stuff." Bob laughed, the strain lifting a little from his eyes. "O.K., grsndpop. O do my best." He turned aad left the cockpit deck. Waldo, stm grinning, turned to the co-pilot. "Well, all we do now is sit and wait." Ritts shook his bead. "You're a cool customer, Waldo. Here we are over the middle of the Atlantic with even odds of being fish food ia a couple hours and you grin like an ape! What do we do if Bob can't find us and Dave cant pick up anything? Do we all sit around and try to outgria each other?" Waldo looked at him thoughtfully for a few seconds and then said, "Take it easy, fellah. I got many years and many hours behind me in the flying game. I been in many loucy spots, and this kind of spot is the wOTiit kind. 'Lost over water with a couple hour's fuel is everyone's night mare, but flipping your lid and bit ing the panic button isn't going to change anything. We've gone by the book. Chances are on our side that the radio will get somebody or that Bob will pull a heading out of his hat. "But if they don't, then we will worry about the next step. We still got a couple hours yet before the sweat; so take it easy and keep grinding away at the radio com pass. If it doesnt do anything else, it will keep you busy." Ritts shrugged and turned back to the radio dials. Waldo watched him, his eyes narrowed ironically. Hell, he thought, Ritts is right. There's nothing to grin about. He leaned back and looked out the window at the vast expanse of water, disturbed every so often by a white fleecy cloud that passed below. Over six thousand flying hours and over twelve years of fly- The Literary Review Today's edition of the Literary Review isn't the first time that The Nebraskan has tried to publish a literary supplement of some kind. Back in the mid-20's, a four page tabloid, containing creative material written by University students, was distributed at five cents a copy. Response to the literary publication was poor, however, and the project was disbanded after two editions. Since then, as far as The Nebraskan knows, the University community has been without a campus literary publication. Today, nearly 30 years after the original venture. The Ne braskan presents the Literary Review experimentally on a one issue trial basis. In doing so. The Nebraskan has tried to do two things: (1) provide a necessary outlet for the creative writing talents here at Nebraska, and 2) give the campus community a glimpse of the creative material produced by its own citizens. If the Nebraskan has been successful, even in a small way, on these two points, it will be satisfied whether the supple ment is accepted or not. lime Man on campus could help. Lost like a cadet! Over an ocean. The one thing that you dont let happen. He knew be had made mistakes this time, costly mistakes born of the tedium and confidence gained through dozens of cross -ocean bops. He could have checked the weather more thoroughly back at Goose Bay. He could have turned back after that first hour in the soup. Yeah, there are a lot of "could haves" behind every acci dent report. But, bell, to be lost! That's in excusable in a -kid out of flying school! For him it was a crime. No, a sin. And be very well could pay a helluva lot for it. He shook his head. No sense getting panicky lie Ritts. There was still a lot that could be done. Where the hell was Mac and the fuel report? He grabbed the mike and said roughly, "Mac, what's the bold op? Cant you read your goddamn gauges?" "Easy, Captain. I was just going to call you. Those consumption charts are designed for a math' teacher, not an engineer." "O.K, Mac. I didnt mean to ruffle your professional pride. Can I get the info now, or should I come back with hat in hand?" Mac's aggravated voice ans wered, "Al right, goddamn it. What's wrong with everybody? We got one hour and thirty minutes fuel left. Maybe we c a a stretch fifteen more minutes if we drop to lOfi'JO feet, that is, if the pilots keep their hands off the throttle and let me set the power." Waldo laughed. "Mac, I'm sorry. Just a -little edgy. You be boss of the power. You know, boy, that we might have to swim for home. How's your back stroke?" EPILOGUE to "Petlia Poems ea Prone") My heart is quit. Having climbed tfce hill, I look daw a the city where at looms Hoapital, wborenue, parrot ery, hell, PriiwM where every evil flower blooms. Sataa, saint of my mittery, w-eQ yoa fcaow I went, not tearfully to water tombs, But aa old rakes to their old duties go: For bell's ewa beaety and draafceaaess With bell aad all the fire it caa shew. Whether yn sleep, your aching hocrt distress Veiled ay the morning light, or come and strut Through my heart's alleys in your guoed dreu, I Uwe you, InJamyl The preaitute . And bandit mu know your kappiaect. That pszrtet all the valvar aa attulr. CharJea Badelait Tr. fey G. Thomas Fateciocjli) by Dick Bibler "Mine's all right. Captain. It's you old guys who should be worry ing" Waldo laughed again. He glanced at Ritts who was watching him with fear in his eyes. "Pick up anything, Ritts?" "Nothing. Damn it, Waldo, only "Stow it, Ritts. We aint through Album Verse How well (he Japanese nodt-r-stood te word for 'going' was Sw' bow tae afatteatf-e of one just gone changes the worM. ac freshly breaks the plum Or aews f hit retora! Richard Hagelberger yet. You keep trying at the bird dog." He grabbed the mike again. "Boob, any luck?" He waited, then beard Dave say, "This is radio. Captain. The navj. gator is shooting 11 sun right now." "Thanks, Dave. How about you, any luck?" Dave sounded puzzled, "WelL I dont know, sir. 1 been receiving signals, but they dont make sense. They seem to be, 'Hello, Earth men. Hello, Earthmea.'" Waldo snarled back. "Let's cut the funny stuff, Dave. This isat the time or place. Have you or havent .you got to anybody yet?" "I'm serious. Captain. That's what I been picking op the last ten minutes on all frequencies. It's garbled, and letters are missing, but that's What the dit-dah's say, 'Hello, Earthmen." " "Well, m be damned," Waldo sighed. "Of all the times to pick up a joker. O.jC, Dave, keep try ing." He put down trie mike and shook his head slowly. Of all the goddamn times to pick tip some Was By ANN GERIKE There Is obviously a pessimistic, fatalistic tread la modera writing. A certain group of writers, which could, perhaps, be called the Capote school, specializes in making its fatalism symbolic and almost incomprehensible. Undoubtedly, such writing Is art, Just as abstract art is art; but, as I sometimes wonder if some modera artists throw their paint aa the canvas with tongue in cheek, I also wonder if some of these symbolic writers may not occasionally write in tat same way. Their symbols are psychological and abundant; they ase chil dren, colors, objects, anything withia reach and, as Buttercup says ia "H. M. S. Pinafore," "Things are seldom what they seem." Their writings are wanderings ia a decadent mind; they walk ia a world of Freudian unreality. I sat down at the typewriter and tossed ap a Capote salad with malice ( ai y as thing else) afore thought. I threw ia repeated sym bols, extensive similes, sadism, monosyllable dialogue, cryptic sea fences, a color scheme, a child and a dash of Freud. I serve it up with my tongue ia my cheek; but If anyone wants to take it seriously, I won't mind. Since it's straight from my subconscious, it's probably conclusive evidence of my inhibitions, frustrations and complexes. , Emily . . . Emily . . . Emily." He heard the sound from far away; it rose and fell as the tides of the sea, rising and falling with the changes of the moon. It echoed off the walls of his mind and shat tered into a million pieces, like a champagne bottle hitting the side walk. "Em,Em, em, em," the sound floated into the distance. He shook his head and opened his eyes. He had been writing at his desk and had just closed his eyes for a moment, but be was certain that be hadat been asleep. Where had that voice come from? Walking over to the window, he looked out A strange child was playing in the sand, drawing mean ingless signs in it with her fin gers. "Hello," be said. "Were you calling for Emily?'' The child stared up at him soberly; her eyes seemed to bore into him like a sharp corkscrew into the cork of a champagne bot tle. "No, I wasn't calling Emily," she said, in an oddly mature voice. "I wasn't calling anybody." She smiled at him and shook her blond ham operator, aad be has to be a joker. He looked at Ritts ruefully. "O.K-, let's start losing some alti tude, slow like." He reached to turn off the automatic pilot when a hand grabbed his shoulder violent- i ly. Bob was yelling in his ear. j "There's a ship out there, Waldo, I the craziest damn thing. I saw it ! from the Astro dome. It's a god tdamn flying saucer. I must be j nuts!" j Waldo whirled around and looked !at Bob. Oh, 1 thought. The kid has flipped bis bd. The strain and alL Suddenly be beard Ritts ! gasping out, "For Pete's sake, Wal Ido, look out there at eleven i o'clock." i Waldo turned and looked. He blinked bis eyes and looked again. His mouth dropped and he stared. Dimly be beard Bob yelling, "Oh, there it is. I aint nuts! It's there. Will you took at it!" It was about a hundred yards away, off trie nose of the plane. It was a large oval shaped object that glinted silvery ia the sunlight. It kept pace with the aircraft with out noticeable power. Its lines were slender and beautifully curved. Apparently there was no engine. Ritts was the first one to speak. Waldo shook his bead. "That baby isnt Russian, American or anything. Look at it. for Pete's sake. Do you see aa engine, any thing for lift?" Dave and Mac were now up on the cockpit deck staring out. Dave said excitedly, "Maybe that's what's been sending those queer messages!" Waldo turned around. "Yon may be right, Dave. Gel. back on the radio pronto and see if yoa can pick up anything." Dave whirled around and disap peared. Waldo looked at Mac. "Well, Mac, what do you call that? You Ye the engineer."" Mac shook his bead. "It must be a mirage or aa optical ffluskm." Bob laughed weakly. "Yeah, op tical illusion. First time I heard of five people seeing the same opti cal Clusion at the same time." Mac scowled. "Well, I've heard of it happening. Read it some where last year when that big flying-saucer scare was going around." Dave came running tip and fought his way past Bob and Mac. "Let roe through, will yoa. Cap tain, I just got a message from that thing. It wants to kww if we receive them." He passed up a clip of paper to Waldo which had the message on it as received. Waldo reed aloud. "Earthmen, j How Green- My Psyche . . . hair, so that the long waves shone in the sun. "Emily," he murmured, look ing at her. "Emily." She continued to smile at him, and the screen blurred her smile into a grimace. "What is your name?" he said. "Rose-Marie," she said, still smiling. "Where do you live, Rose-Marie," he said. "Over the hills in grandma's house," she answered, her voice running over the words in the lilt of a rhythmic fairy tale. Her eyes seemed to be laughing at him; sparks leaped from them with the light of an evening campSre. "What are you drawing in the sand?" "Signs." "What kind of signs?" "Just signs." The world outside was green and yellow; the child's fingernails gleamed red. Where are you, Em ily? his mind said. Are you Emily, with the blond hair and the red fingernails? The child drew an "E" in the dirt. "What does the 'E' stand for?'' "Rose-Mane." by me have come as close as we dare for your safety. Caa you receive us now?" Waldo looked up. "D a v e, get back there and send the following, 'Yes, we receive you. Who are you? What do you want? " "Roger, sir," and Dave dashed away. Ritts looked at Mac. "Well, Ein stein, there goes your illusion the ory, or did the book you read say that mirages can work the Morse code?", Mac shrugged. "Took, that aint any more crazy than sayirg that we are seeing one of those saucer things from another world. What do you say, captain?" Waldo shook bis bead. "One thing is sure, that is a ship out there. That's no illusion. Whether it is from another world or not is another question. It might be a new Russian design and that 'Earthman' stuff could be their poor attempt at humor. Let's wait for what they have to say. Damn it! Wish we could contact some base. Hey, Bob, tell Dave to read anything be gets, over the inter com, and thea switch fast to the Azores frequency. We may need help real soon." Bob frowned. "You dont think it's going to try and shoot us down, do you?" "I dont know, fellah, but we got to expect anything, no matter who they are. Besides, we are still lost, you know, and the fuel is getting lower and lower. Go on, tell Dave what I said." Bob looked as if be were going to sav something else, then bit bis lip and went back. A few min utes later Dave's voice came bub bling through the intercom. "Listen to this. Those guys want to help as. They know where we are." Waldo cursed. "Damn it, Dave. Read their message, every ward. Dont try and explain it for us." "Yes, sir . . . 'Earthmen, we are glad that you caa receive our sig nals. We have beard your distress calls and your request for assist nce. Thirty-five degrees to the north, as y o a r direction finder measures it, there is the place we believe you are seeking. At your present rate of speed you should be there in forty of your minutes. Thai's it, sir. Nothing else." Waldo whirled around to Ritts. "OX, boy, let's see bow good thes babies are. Take her around." Ritts banked the big plane around until the ccmpass was pointing thirty-five drgrees more to the ncrth. W.do called ever the intercom.! "But Rose-Marie starts with a R!" "I know," sh said. She threw back her head, and the laughter bubbled up in her like champagne bubbles in a newly opened bottle. There is something strange about this child, he thought. Sht remind ed him of something in his pre natal past, some dim memory which throbbed in his mind with the pain of a hammerstruck thumb. His eyes turned toward, and be saw long, waving blond hair being carressed wfch red fingernails. "Emily," a voice said, "Emily. "Did you say something?" be said to the child. "No. Did you?' "Did I?" "No." They both were silent. He turned away from the window and looked at the walls of his room, the corpse-green walls which flashed nauseating purple in the glow of the setting sun. His face stared at him from the mirror a death haggard face with eyes darting like pursued gnat. He took the cham pagne bottle which was standing on the dresser and threw it across the room. It shattered against the wall. There was a moment of silence following the delicate tinkling of falling glass, the tinkling of crys tallized tears. Then, "Why did you throw the bottle?" came the strange voice from outside, under the window. He did not answer. Her face was pressed against the window screen, her nose flat tened against the dozens of tiny squares. "It's broken," she said, sadly. "Why did you break the bottle?" "Because I felt like breaking it, Emily," he said. She smiled an empty smile and said, "But my name isn't Emily." Then night came, end with the blackness be Jay on the floor in (Continued on Page S.) Abraham Dash "Dave, tell them thanks and ask them again who they are. What the ...." There was a brilliant, bright blue glow coming from the apparent rear of the strange craft. Then, while Waldo and R:tu watched, she disappeared. A thin trail of smoke could bt dimly seea spiraling upwards. Ritts whispered ia aa awed man ner, "Did you see that?" Did you see that? That guy caa really get up and go." Waldo said weakly. That was no Russian aircraft." Dave, Bob and Mae gathered around the front and looked out. There was nothing but the ocean dowa below and the vastness of sky around them. Waldo turned wearily around. "OX, guys, we still got to get ourselves on dry land." Bob turned with the others and started back to bis position when Waldo caught bis arm. Bob bent down and Waldo spoke into his ear. Sex And tbe Id pasbed tkrovga to society. Eyes gossiped threw gti amskadei windows. Unwitting desire became tlx tool of basiaess, aad art. Aad a sacraoteai amnesia of (be intellect. Janet Waitsoa "What do you think of the bead ing that ...." he paused for a word "that they gave us? Does it look good 'to you?" Bob nodded. "I shot the sun at while back. I couldnt get a posi- tioa from it, but it indicated w were pretty far right of course. I was just going to ask yoa to make a correction left when Z saw that . . . that thing." They flew on for about fifteen minutes. Waldo listened to the ex cited chatter over the inter-phone. Mac was saying that they would be famous once they landed and told their story. Bob said that probably a movie would be made of their experience. A3 were agreed that they would get shtpped back to the States. - Ritts suddenly br&ke ia over tba intercom. "Waldo, everybody. I got the Azores on the radio com pass, strong as belL The bird dog is pointing straight ahead. Man, oh, man! Well be ia Washington living like heroes withia a week! There were yells of delight ever the intercom. Waldo grjated ar.d lotJkei at the needle on the rai.s5 C0TOJMS.S. lt had stopped its mim less wandering and pointed, wita a little quiver, straight ahead. Waldo released a lurfiil of t. Co!JjsErd a Pj? .) r IV' it ' v..