Marina Chen, Author at Blue Marble Review

To save flowers

By Marina Chen

Warm chrysanthemum
the same color as butter bled into strawberry jam

went limp two nights ago.
I sobbed and cut the stems,
filled a vase and arranged the blooms. If they were to die,

I might as well enjoy the show.
Is there a point to giving
a gift that dies like stop motion? Or are they the ultimate

gesture—here, a fragment of life—
trimmed from the life-source
of pulsing Earth—I trust you will try to preserve them.

This is my secret: it’s possible
to save flowers, for my
watered chrysanthemums flourished—turgid rebirth.

I awoke the next morning,
their discarded stems like
snapped chopsticks in the sink, new buds emerging.

Marina Chen is a high schooler from Washington State and member of the Seattle Youth Poet Laureate cohort. Her work has been recognized by the National Scholastic Art & Writing Awards, Live Poets Society of New Jersey, the Hanging Loose literary magazine, and others. She writes poetry about everything she loves (and many things she doesn’t.)

Flowers for Algernon

By Oscar Wolfe

Recently in school, we had the opportunity to read the classic novel, Flowers for Algernon, by Daniel Keyes. Obviously, I chose to read it. When I started it, I realized immediately that it was something special. It follows the story of Charlie Gordon, a thirty-two year old man with the mental age of a child, living in New York in the 1960’s. When he is chosen for an experiment that would triple his intelligence, his life turns upside down. The story is told in the form of progress reports that Charlie wrote throughout the experiment to show his progress. As Charlie’s intelligence changes, so does the writing style. it is ritten a litle bit like this at leest in the begening.

In case you’re wondering who the heck Algernon is, he is the lab mouse that was used to test the experiment before Charlie. The success of the experiment on Algernon is the reason the scientists were confident enough to try it on a human subject. But when Algernon’s mental state starts to deteriorate, well, no spoilers.

This book is so well written that it truly seems like a current news article. But, in case there is any confusion, it is not a current news article; it’s fifty-three-year-old fictional story. However, this is not to say that it is an easy read. It is an extremely complex book that takes time and effort to get through, especially about 75% of the way through. That’s when there’s a bit of a boring part (but it gets good again so don’t give up on it). But, if you don’t want to read the whole novel, I have good news for you. There’s a short story version. Of course, the short story doesn’t have nearly the detail that the novel does.

Overall though, Flowers for Algernon is one of the best, most thought provoking books that I’ve read in a long time. It put me into the mindset of multiple people all in one. I was able to see how the same situation could be perceived dramatically differently by someone mentally impaired, or a genius. It ultimately looks at how society reacts to different people, and how those people react to society. I would suggest it for anyone probably in high school or maybe middle school. The reason I wouldn’t suggest it for anyone younger is that there is quite a bit talk of sex but mainly I don’t think a young kid would have the patience to make it through. But enough of me, go read it!

Oscar Wolfe is the founder and lead writer of That is Great!, a blog about great stuff—from science and politics to entertainment—aimed at kids and teens. Oscar has interviewed many celebrities, politicians and business leaders including Sen. Al Franken, Henry Winkler, Billy Crystal, Laura Marano, Lizzy Greene, Kyle Rudolph and Evander Holyfield. He has written for Mpls.St.Paul Magazine, appeared on the American Public Media podcast Smash Boom Best, and been featured on Kare11 News. His award-winning short story, No Paine, No Gain, was published in the 2015-2016 selected works from COMPAS. Oscar, 14, is an eighth grader at Hopkins North Junior High where he is a member of the student council and participates in cross-country, wrestling, and track as well as band. He has appeared in numerous plays at school, the Sabes JCC and Stages Theatre Company.

Editor’s Note

By amymasson

If Issue Two looks especially bright and shiny it’s because we have help. Humble thanks to our ‘still wanting to be anonymous’ grant benefactors whose kindness enables us to pay our contributors for their work. Minneapolis artist Chris Howard’s vibrant work is once again featured on our site. Lucky for us, Chris is inspired by nature and loves color, and her talent lights up our home page. Thank you Chris.

(For more information about Chris’ art contact: editorbluemarblereview@gmail.com)

Issue Two is dedicated to all the young writers who submitted work for consideration. Whether you just started writing, have been previously published, or are only sending your essay because your English teacher made you (ten extra credit points!)—we’re grateful. We’re honored by the personal stories you shared, impressed by the way you’ve waded into fiction and poetry, and awed by those of you who sent submissions in English when it’s your second—or third language. Wow.

Reading submissions has been unforgettable. We’re here to report that creativity is alive and well. The same can be said for humor, quirkiness and the ongoing effort to make sense of the world.

The aim of Blue Marble is to applaud and encourage imaginative thinking, as well as gather and display the work of young artists and writers. We see ourselves as collectors, constructing an assemblage of creative work and inspiring the idea that art and writing and music and photography are expansive pursuits that stimulate individual growth, as well as adding value to the world community.

Young writers, this journal belongs to all of you. Thanks for helping us piece together and online creative community.

Molly Hill
Editor

It takes generosity to discover the whole through others. If you realize you are only a violin, you can open yourself up to the world by playing your role in the concert.

Jacques Yves Cousteau

Vegetarian for me, but also, the bees

By Katelin Romick

For me, it is easy

I do not eat any

Beings that scream for mercy

I am no carnivore

I am no cannibal

I am simply me

Although I care for the bees and saving our trees

World peace

You can see

I care as I stare at agricultural scares within our planetarium

You can see

Everyone thinks that animals grow out of trees

This isn’t surprising to me

But I SEE

People don’t care unless it satisfies their needs

People eat whatever they see

Unless it’s people like you and me

A decade

A century

A millennium

By this time our planet will become uninhabitable

Only a memory

Our bodies will morph into the remains of leftover meatloafs past

What about the bees you ask?

Oh who cares

We are only going to destroy their paths

What do bees do anyway?

Coffee, Hazelnut, Chocolate

Without the bees means no plants, no trees

No food and allergies

But that isn’t all;

Genetically Modified Organisms is how we’ll also fall

Imagine this

A fish you are allergic to but can’t dismiss

DNA mixed with your fresh side of corn

EXCEPT it is plausible

You have been forewarned

It’s called Genetic Engineering

No worries!

No bees

Leads to no trees

No pollinating things,

No food

–

No means to eat until you please

Until you are soon diseased

By that of bolognese

Katelin is a senior Marketing student at Heidelberg University located in Tiffin, Ohio. She loves to research, write, network with people, and be open-minded. Her hobbies include snowboarding, mixed martial arts, yoga, and living a vegetarian lifestyle. She is originally from Cleveland, Ohio and loves the city. This is the first poem that she has produced and is grateful to be published by Blue Marble Review.

Written Missiles

By Clara Leo

Written Missles

Clara is a college sophomore studying economics and music. Considering that her life hasn’t quite started yet, there will be more to say about who she is later. Soon. Stay tuned.

[Guts]

By Mackenzie Cook

The pig’s exposed organs sepulchered our only scalpel:

a rusted thing.

My fingers are covered in guts

‘cause no one else would dig in.

Abi called us “nasty”

me and the boy, laughing as we dodged

squirting juices from the bloated fetus on our black lab table.

The pig’s exposed organs sepulchered our only scalpel:

After class, the ammonia smell chased me

down the biology hallway to my

baby blue locker,

a rusted thing.

I guess, as kids, we’re almost always running

from unspoken somethings. Our class was never truly

separate- always a collective organism -until I whispered,

“my fingers are covered in guts.”

No one wants to hang out

with a twelve year old cannibal

so I was alone in my painful excavations

‘cause no one else would dig in.

Mackenzie Cook is a high school junior currently attending Cy Fair High School. She is head editor of the literary magazine there, Voices in Ink, and also actively participates in the WITS Houston youth advisory council as vice president. When not writing, she loves to look at birds.