Elementia issue 15

Writing

19. Baby by Alice Kogo
55. Movement by Paiton Stith

life

By Anna Schmeer

a cherry

a seemingly harmless red, round fruit

you pop the whole thing in your mouth

bite down on the soft sweet juicy pulp

then suddenly you reach the middle expecting the soft flesh you get a solid pit


Familiar Hands

By Oli Ray

Time’s hands are surprisingly familiar for all the change they bring. Their grasp is a feeling we all know and yet always seem to forget until they put us a down.


Something to Care For

By Anonymous

Every Saturday, after work, I visit my grandmother at her nursing home. It’s about a half an hour drive to get there, but it’s worth the drive. Grandma G isn’t the normal nursing home type you’d think of: sweet, unsuspecting, a kind of elderly innocence.


Variable

By SJ Dahms

They say that time is a constant, In math world it is an unchanging letter k.  But I say that it becomes a variable, A perfect letter x.  Time can be carefully controlled, ceaseless, A cascading current. But time becomes elastic, expendable, An extraordinary extreme. We can not change the flow of


MAP Testing

By Stephanie Kontopanos

“Take all the time you need,” They said. But now I’d much rather be in bed, Because I’m 76 today. My life is beginning to fade away. “Take all the time you need,” They said. I hope you’re happy. Now I’m dead.


Jasmine People

By Emma Olinger

On a Friday in the middle of January at about 12:30 in the afternoon, a little less than 10 people occupy the Chinese Cuisine. Among the nail salon, the boutique, and the FedEx office, it waits for customers.


divination for the divine

By Alrisha Shea

look at them, so cavalier, drinking future-liquor in a future-

                bar kissing the wounds                 of future-lovers and                 crisscrossing their future-

scars look at them, so ambiguous, with


Rebirth of the Earth

By Isobel Li

2079

The sky outside is an awful dusty grey-red color.

Outside the glass dome of the city, you can see toxic clouds clutter the dirty colored sky. 

Inside though can be described in one word – vibrant.


Mother Time

By Anonymous

Between her slender fingers she pivots the earth Amused by how the blues and greens twirl We let the motion power us Letting it rock us and push us, haunt us and slow us. Our lives are dictated by her constant motion. A motion beautifully blind to us.


The Ancients

By Mario William Vitale

It’s my last day with the old giants In mourning I hike the lost trails, sniffing the aroma of the bark, that cinnamon of the forest Under tepees of wood in a membrane of shadows, I stalk the earth, its mammal traces, its elusive tracks, to sit on a fallen log where spiders macramé, moss sloping


god bless

By Samiya Rasheed

Varuna pulled forth the world the heavens the stars With a roll of his tongue he wrenched time in her place A word on his lips and the floods would recede From sludge he said let there be more


In the Deep Time

By Alrisha Shea

When we wake, we stretch to fill out our expectations of where what should be & then we look in the mirror for confirmation is this me is this me is this & we know it’s


Ecliptic

By Meghan Dillon

The sun dawns upon me Again I’m greeted to gasps of reality Holding onto dreams I can disappear into  until the day breaks, bright and true Every morning I breathe incapabilities  but I still wake with a certain heart Knowing you’ll rise over the hill, I race to see You are unaltered energy stirr


Time’s Beauty

By Willow Vaughn

Time is a girl with curly hair that bounces with every step and twirl she takes She talks with her hands but never fails to find the right word to say She can be by your side one second and gone the next Getting lost in the crowd is fun to her She is bipolar with moods that seem too intense to ha


Lover of Time

By Willow Vaughn

I seduced Time I brought her thorny flowers, held her worn hands and kissed her softly I caressed her flushed cheeks and played with her hair, long like a timeline I ran my hands along her battle-won scars and her strong but delicate body I buried my face in her neck and left little marks there,


The Girl and The Timeless Wood

By Renee Born

In a far distant and long forgotten land, there stands a great forest. An ancient power is said to live within, fed into the earth through deep and powerful roots. The vastness of the strange forest covers a mountain from its base to its peak, brushing the clouds.


Little Time

By Renee Born

The night was warm and a blue haired girl sat alone at a bar. She was at one end, trying to catch a glimpse of a woman sitting opposite, a woman with long dark hair and caramel skin. Robyn knew her from somewhere, she was sure of it.


Counting by the Calorie

By Tara Phillips

145: i looked normal for a girl my size, a little extra meat on my bones but nothing to make me despise the body i lived in. Until i started comparing myself to the girls around me.


Are We Gods

By Paige Kring

the void beckoned. i stood softly quaking afraid what is there is to do in the void? i pondered quietly the void answered, nothing. perfect. i replied i need time i need time i need time

i need rest


The Mannequin and the Doll

By Tara Phillips and Anton Caruso

i’m a mannequin, a marionette man, my actions preplanned.  i go through my motions, i do a little dance. My movements based off the crowd’s applause  i give a little wave because  that’s what i was made to do, that’s what i’m made to do, that’s what she makes me do.


Defense Mechanism

By Alice Kogo

words bubbling on my tongue are not metaphors, They are a message, a warning of future plights to come. I should thank this body for that, thank you.


Fall Leaves and People Do Too

By Rylie McDaniel

It was mid-October and I was laying outside under the large oak tree reading a novel. The tree’s branches swayed in the wind, arms moving as if they were protecting the leaves and everything surrounding it. As I was flipping the pages, I shifted my weight under the crunch of the dead leaves.


PTA to AA

By Annie Barry

She stood in front of a mirror Clean and sober thinking about how she feels taller than her own reflection

Then she took an injection


Rubble

By Ayush Pandit

They’ve run out of garbage bags to use as body bags. Power lines cracked in half like splintered pencils are strewn through the streets neighborhoods panic as the ground forgets what being solid is again aftershocks bigger than most earthquakes bend steel and rebar like toddlers bend fuzzy pipe c


Time It Takes to Sober Up

By Emme Mackenzie

“What is one factor that affects the Blood Alcohol Level and is an extremely important factor (in order to ‘sober up’)?” I stare at the question on the computer screen. The hum of conversation in the DMV provides constant background noise.


In my final moments

By Sankara “Le prince heritier” Olama-Yai

I hear the gunshot, I do not see  The bullet but I know it’s coming  Aimed to perforate my skull  They say your life flashes, once death’s  Shadow is on your tail and grips you in  Your terror’s wake.


A Candlelight Insomniac

By Kylie Volavongsa

It’s midnight, and he finds that it’s impossible to sleep. He isn’t exactly sure why, though he suspects it’s because his mind has wound itself into a series of complicated knots. There’s an abundance of loose ends as well, and he wonders which one carries the most weight. 


Shades of Pain

By AonB

Another black kid got shot by a white cop. ANOTHER BLACK KID GOT SHOT BY A WHITE COP. ANOTHERBLACKKIDGOTSHOTBYAWHITE COP. ANOTHERBLACKKIDGOTSHOT ANOTHERBLACKKIDGOTS

Ten . . . Nine . . . Eight . . . Seven . . .


dad

By Lauren Yoksh

you are like the sun: oblivious to time’s existence wake up at noon to eat dessert and watch television reruns. you are sleepless nights and grease stained fingers covered in cuts and bruises and scabs. you are like the war you were too young to fight in and the silent ones you fight every day be


Clock Work

By Kahill Perkins

Like clockwork revaluations to new forgotten ideas lined up in my mind like young adult novels on my ratty old grey bookcases, I live stories lined up in many different tenses    dog-eared identities taking place in crises fueled hourglass clocks, if there is one thing I’ll never run out of it is