Windward Review Volume 19 (2021): Empathy and Entropy
"Empathy and Entropy" is the 2021 theme of WR creative journal, a not-for-profit publication based out of Texas A&M U.-Corpus Christi. Empathy and Entropy is a collection of voices, art, and statements that all cohere into a complex narrative. Read, view, and appreciate how visual artists and multi-genre writers build up the story of 2021 - or should I say 'a story of 2021'? You, the reader, are invited to have your own interpretation of 2021, empathy and entropy, and the meanings of these terms.
"Empathy and Entropy" is the 2021 theme of WR creative journal, a not-for-profit publication based out of Texas A&M U.-Corpus Christi. Empathy and Entropy is a collection of voices, art, and statements that all cohere into a complex narrative. Read, view, and appreciate how visual artists and multi-genre writers build up the story of 2021 - or should I say 'a story of 2021'? You, the reader, are invited to have your own interpretation of 2021, empathy and entropy, and the meanings of these terms.
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Jacobus Marthinus Barnard
The Aftermath of Childhood
Little stickers on the ceiling, we watch
The stars and moon, so bright, for a midnight
Head bedded to the floor, I raise my palm
Outward, grasping for the falling sky,
Hoping to catch what once was mine
A dream from time so long unseen
I pray, my dream, come back to me.
Dear Chamomile,
You were the bedtime story I was never given as a child.
My First Heartbreak
It’s a rare event, this sweet twist that comes with shedding new
skin and looking at yourself from the outside. A cicada you are
and will always be. To magnify my summer doting and leave
pieces of yourself for me to discover for weeks
I Am The Rain
I will follow you on all your most heartfelt moments, clouding the good
in torrential swafts of black and grey.
Blue will descend, on your homes and on your hearts.
In your weakest moments, I will be there. With a tear stained face,
chest quivering from the touch and knees soaked through to the bone
in cold and wet.
In these puddles of mud, I will wring you out, dirty your skin and enter
the shadows of your smile.
You will sink. Deeper and deeper into my abyss.
In this pavement puddle, you will drown in contempt.
Not because of me, but because of you.
I am the rain. I cannot tell you what to think. You did this to yourself.
Windward Review: Vol. 19
58