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Blue Marble Review

Literary Journal for Young Writers

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Suzi Peter

Memory is a War Between Sisters

By Suzi Peter

You cut my back by accident,
swinging your sword-branch in wild circles,
fending off the invisible ogres
invading the overgrown, emerald grass.
When you saw my indigo t-shirt darken,
you cried. I cried because you were crying,
and when Mom pressed the wipe
into soft split skin, I winced because you did.

We shared a pink bicycle, an illustrated Bible,
pastel crew socks, bedtimes, muffins,
a made-up language of English and Arabic
that dwindled the further we got in school.
We argued over TV shows: Scooby-Doo or Rugrats,
the best kind of chocolate, the best Roald Dahl,
our inheritance: Dad’s knack for storytelling, yours;
Mom’s somber thoughtfulness would become mine.
We didn’t know fate was genetic then,
so we argued to tears, to scratches, to laughter.

Our childhood was covered in thin Band-aids
that we wore like badges of fortitude,
the emblems of vigorous sisterly love.
Now a warm, dreamy haze has covered the scars
and I remember the little you kindly, though
I guess even memory is violence.

Memory cracked our bones and stretched our limbs
until we were strangers, grown and incongruous.
Memory hacked off the white-noise weeks
and the weary peace of tiring dog days,
so all that remains is intensity.
Memory scraped hidden meaning away,
willfully mistranslating our souls,
making us light, making us liars.
Memory cut off our flesh,
raising our skeletons to the forefront
like living dead, silent zombies;
because we lacked the words to say
the difficult things in English,
we hungered for the mother tongue
without ever knowing it’s what we both craved.
Like memory, language was a battlefield
and we settled on the truce of a grudge.

In that way, memory was also betrayal
but it looked so true and lifelike
glowing there in adulthood’s twilight
that I thought its ephemeral body was yours
but young again, but mine again.

 

Suzi Peter is a Sudanese-American poet from Knoxville, Tennessee. Some of her other work has appeared in Short Vine and The Mockingbird. When she’s not writing, she enjoys running, taking long walks, watching films, and, of course, reading.

Bright Things Bruise Too

By Yishak Yebio

He cracked an egg on the pavement, said:
That’s how you summon the sun.
Two yolks slid out, twin hearts
spitting steam on concrete.

I laughed. He didn’t. He had
a toothpick grin, tangerine eyes,
spoke only in upbeats. Whistled
through his molars like a cracked flute.

We played cards in a laundromat
with rules he invented as he went.
Every joker was a prophecy.
Every ace, a door left open.

He told me hope is a body
you drag out of floodwater—
slick, shivering,
still breathing.

He wore joy like a scabbed leather jacket.
Slicked his hair with rainwater.
When I said I couldn’t dance,
he kicked a boot through the ceiling.

Stars leaked in like broken neon.
He said: Look. You already are.

I tried to tell him about all my endings.
He folded them into paper swans,
set them floating
in the oil-spill river.

You see? he said,
grinning with the full weight of it,
Everything wants to live
a little longer.

 

Yishak Yohannes Yebio is the 2024 Youth Poet Laureate of Washington, D.C, and the Arts and Social Justice Fellow at the Strathmore and Wooly Mammoth Theatre. His work has previously appeared on the Nowhere Girl Collective, the Eunoia Review, and the Inflectionist Review.

celestial awe

By Adeline Berke

My darling, you are a solar eclipse!
You are a catastrophic moment of confusion—
when everyone stops for wonder and breath.
You are chaos and you make me
lose my sense of future and also fear.
You are an abstract painting:
so yellow, so brown, so shining black.
You transcend comprehension;
you are a beautiful headache in
the innocent form of a human—
And you don’t even know it!
You have no idea that you are
an apocalypse! The lifting of the veil—
light and dark not so clear anymore,
together at last, rogue and wild.
You are as still as a shadow and silent.
Your voice is the bursting of a sunspot.
You are a contradiction: the very
idea of duality, brought to life
before me, tempting, you enchantress.
You are not shine and you are not shadow.
You are both, simultaneously,
tension in your relaxed constancy.
You are a braid of holy sins.
Your flaws are beyond perfection.
You are the devouring of celestial bodies.
I thought your outside was dark
and your inside was light but now
I’m sure it’s the other way around.
Or perhaps you’re both and I am not philosophical.

My darling, you are too human:
I’m beginning to think you might just
be a goddess. For what is a deity
if not each of us, amplified and tenacious?

 

Adeline Berke is a student in Massachusetts, where she enjoys playing viola, reading past her bedtime, and contemplating life. She participates in varsity cross country and track and field for her high school. Let it be known that she never wears matching socks.

The World’s Wife

By Robbie Kozman

“The World’s Wife” is a collection of poetry by Carol Ann Duffy. This feminist anthology of poems subverts well-known stories and myths with women at the center. Duffy challenges us to reimagine history and literature, in order to challenge patriarchy and sexist conceptions of female identity.

In “Medusa,” Duffy utilizes various literary devices to confront stereotyped femininity head on with parodic subversion. She uses alliteration and the rule of three to reimagine Medusa’s conventionally poisoned mind. In the beginning of the poem, Medusa is skeptical of her husband’s faithfulness. She remarks “a doubt, a jealousy grew in my mind… as though my thoughts hissed and spat on my scalp.” These emotions compact into the rule of three, suggesting that Medusa’s insecurity is obsessive and evolving. “Hissed” and “spat” are onomatopoeic, evoking the sounds of a snake. Duffy alliterates Medusa’s transformation into a Gorgon; her “bride’s breath” connotes the once strong marriage, which is ‘destroyed’ by the “soured, stank” of a jealous relationship. Later, a “buzzing bee” and “singing bird” are turned into stone. Overall, this demonstrates that jealousy and rage have consumed Medusa, as a result of her male partner.

As the poem progresses, the reader gains sympathy for Medusa. Medusa maintains her love for Poseidon but knows that he will “stray from home.” Refusing to take responsibility for his adultery, Poseidon shows up with “a shield for a heart” and “a sword for a tongue.” He, as a reference to patriarchal society, has made Medusa into a monster. She is to blame while Poseidon is devoid of feeling and love. As such, Duffy is critical of the misogynistic treatment of women as trophies, or property to be used and discarded without any consequence. “Medusa” represents a pattern of women’s reactions to wrongdoings against them, where they are unjustly seen as the ones punishable and deserving of the mistreatment by the patriarchal Man (capital M). Duffy cleverly positions the myth as a symbol of female empowerment—by looking at Medusa straight on, women can take back their agency and challenge the patriarchy.

My second favorite piece in the anthology is “Little Red-Cap.” Duffy refreshingly disrupts the fairytale of “Little Red Riding Hood.” She employs allusion, internal rhyme, and intertextuality to flip the story’s traditional dynamic and challenge patriarchal conventions. Red is enamoured with the wolf. His jaw is stained by “red wine,” which is a drink of sophistication. He has “big eyes” and “ears”—a sexual, even phallic reference. Although the wolf is intimidating, Red is the instigator. She “clapped eyes on the wolf,” revealing her intentions and desire to exert power. Expressions like “sweet sixteen,” alluding to the age of consent, and “never been,” indicate that Red knows she can play up her innocence to grab the wolf’s attention. Paradoxically, her strength almost comes from the fact that she is perceived to have none. In this sense, the reader is compelled to reconsider the roles of the hunter and the hunted within wider hierarchical structures of gender and power, as the Wolf is an allegorical figure.

The sexual encounter between Red and the wolf develops into a ten-year struggle. Despite the wolf being originally presented as more prey than predator, he is later depicted as controlling in their relationship. The internal rhyme reflects the repetitive nature of his behavior, “season after season.” The wolf’s “heavy matted paws” indicate that he is rough and graceless, and Red’s search for the “white dove” conveys her desire for fulfillment; the replacement of lust with love. Thus, by taking “an axe to the wolf,” Red does not require the help of a male to liberate her. In fact, Red (instead of the original woodsman) fills the wolf’s belly “with stones,” intertextually subverting the gender roles. This is the poem’s greatest metaphor for empowerment. Furthermore, Red sees the “glistening, virgin white” of her “grandmother’s bones”—a broader metaphor for exerted ‘purity,’ or reclaimed honor for past generations of oppressed women. The very act of killing the wolf is symbolic of escaping patriarchal oppression and even killing the patriarchy itself.

In sum, Duffy has amassed a powerful collection of brilliant, feminist poetry that is filled with intriguing metaphors and layers of meaning. She reimagines patriarchal conceptions of female identity, both challenging centuries of male control, and demonstrating female independence. I highly recommend this creative anthology.

 

Robbie Kozman is focusing his studies on English, history, and economics. He plays varsity basketball, soccer, and golf and is a member of the senior school concert and jazz bands. Robbie’s writing have been recognized by Scholastics Art and Writing and Polar Expressions Publishing in Canada.

Ryujin 3.5 , Ryujin Leg

By William Shen-Costello

Ryujin 3.5

Ryujin Leg

 

The name is Ryujin from the designer, Satoshi Kamiya. Although the design is not original, the rendition is completely my own, taking 100 hours with the only reference being the design’s crease pattern.

 

William Shen-Costello is a seventeen year old attending Stuyvesant High School in Manhattan, NY. After discovering origami at the start of the COVID-19 pandemic, he quickly fell in love and taught himself to be highly proficient with the help of YouTube and other online resources. Other than folding origami, William enjoys fishing and hiking in the wilderness of upstate New York as a pastime.

Beluga

By Sisi Zhang

Beluga

Every time I walk into an aquarium, I feel as if I’m entering a dream——not of humans, but of the marine animals. What are we to them, then, if we are within their dreams? I tried to capture the answer through film.

 

Sisi Zhang is a writer and photographer from Shanghai, China. She is currently a high school student at The Stony Brook School, New York State. Her works reflect her unique perspectives on life and connect her world with those of others. Most of her photography captures tranquil moments in nature, while her writing often explores feelings and thoughts. Nevertheless, both to her are forms of storytelling.

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