noun: 1. a place where the falcons are kept. 2. a row of doors opening on the same passage 3. a homonym for “muse,” Greek goddess of the arts and sciences 4. the online creative magazine for Friends University
by Heather Chamberlain This is a literary interpretation project I did for American Lit 2 over “The Death of a Soldier” by Wallace Stevens. The imagery of this poem really spoke to me. Clearly it is about soldiers going into war, but I found that it also symbolized the common man and how he approaches... Continue Reading →
by Heather Chamberlain In shadows and copperhead skins; through cattails and honey bells, my memory wanders to a warm November day on a walk with my sister and her children. Anoles scatter under our feet. Mushrooms appear one by one, then in fives, then in tens, then in twenties, as we walk deeper and deeper... Continue Reading →
by Heather Chamberlain The hour of doom is drawing near. Soon the bell will toll, and the heathens that patiently wait above will descend to tear his battered soul from its body. They’ll toss it about like a plaything, mocking him, and further bruising and mangling his soul than it already is. He could already... Continue Reading →
by Heather Chamberlain and Jalen Lambert
I am the rock, but the rock isn't me...
With a wet washcloth you wash your face...
A rosebud that blooms begins to die...
This is a poem performed by the author, Heather Chamberlain, at the 2019 Mews Poetry Slam, an annual event that takes place at Friends University in Wichita, Kansas.
For years he’s lived in confusion, unable to escape the delusion that he doesn’t belong here; he never did. Despite his efforts, he’s unable to rid himself of this sour cognition: that something strange separates him from the people he’s been with all this time. Something’s permeated and poisoned his mind. Whatever it is, it’s... Continue Reading →
On the ground a familiar shadow is cast; a scene I recall from a distant past. Sunlight dances, tree branches sway- out the window I gaze unto a previous day. The shadow grows angry, and larger, and still larger. I lean closer to the window sill. It looms over a child; overbearing. Spit erupts from... Continue Reading →
The Mews 