CREEK ROAD GANG
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Contents:
January/February 2011
Thoughts from the Editor
~ Kate Lydon
Review
My Stroke of Insight by Jill Bolte Taylor, Ph.D.
~reviewed by Janice Ewing
Stories
Punxsutawney Phil
~Jackie Kearins
Thank God today is the last day of February. It’s been a bad month, for a number of reasons, and it all started with that damn groundhog, Punxsutawney Phil.
That's My Story, and I'm Sticking to It
~Matt Jodziewicz
“He hated
the Cat?”
~Leonard Gottesman
~ Kate Lydon
Poetry
Joe Quinton: 5 Poems
3 poems which are unnamed
GEOMETRY
RETURN
Richard Moyer: 2 Poems
DANCING WITH GRANDFATHER
AS I GO WALKING
Kristin Flick Strid
Looking for My Brother
Kate Lydon: 2 Poems
Split Screen
Minus One
~ Kate Lydon
Review
My Stroke of Insight by Jill Bolte Taylor, Ph.D.
~reviewed by Janice Ewing
Stories
Punxsutawney Phil
~Jackie Kearins
Thank God today is the last day of February. It’s been a bad month, for a number of reasons, and it all started with that damn groundhog, Punxsutawney Phil.
That's My Story, and I'm Sticking to It
~Matt Jodziewicz
Where had that phrase come from? An early childhood memory of Dr. Seuss? No…. Then slowly it came back to me.
Psychiatrists will tell you that the human mind after undergoing times of extreme or intense duress will respond by blocking out the stressful events, recalling later only the pleasant times, if at all. I think they call it “repressed memories” and have developed an entire therapeutic procedure designed to bring these buried memories once again to the fore.
What are they, nuts?
These memories were buried for good reason.
~Leonard Gottesman
For me, writing a
personal story is a process of putting my body onto paper. The stories
that I write are deeply grown within my arms and legs. They live in my
chest and in my shoulders. Certainly they are in my head, but it’s not
true that they live in my head alone.
Maggie and Me~ Kate Lydon
Maggie Mix-Up, the best doll I ever had, came to me in a season of sadness.
A few weeks after my eleventh birthday, my family left the home I’d known all my life. I hadn’t met Maggie yet when we moved to a rented apartment in a new town . . . . My new bedroom, which I shared with my baby brother, had walls of battleship grey, a dismal color which matched my unhappy mood.
A few weeks after my eleventh birthday, my family left the home I’d known all my life. I hadn’t met Maggie yet when we moved to a rented apartment in a new town . . . . My new bedroom, which I shared with my baby brother, had walls of battleship grey, a dismal color which matched my unhappy mood.
Poetry
Joe Quinton: 5 Poems
3 poems which are unnamed
GEOMETRY
RETURN
Richard Moyer: 2 Poems
DANCING WITH GRANDFATHER
AS I GO WALKING
Kristin Flick Strid
Looking for My Brother
Kate Lydon: 2 Poems
Split Screen
Minus One
