The cB Newspaper 2nd issue, July, 2005 Options

[cBNewsStaff]

Members, please do not post any comments in this thread. Any questions/comments/suggestions, may be PMed to one of our editors listed in the editors' notes for both your convenience and ours; we will answer your comments accordingly. Again, please do not post any comments in this thread; they will be deleted and you will either receive a verbal warning or a raise in your warning level - you may even face suspension.

Editors’ Notes

First, the cB News team would like to thank our readers, especially those who took the time to give us encouraging comments and suggestions as to how we can improve in the future. Those messages provided us a sense of accomplishment and pride in our works. Again, we thank you, and we will always look forward to serve the cB community to the best of our abilities.

As with any service, ours has the potential to excel or stagnate, and while we aim for the former, we welcome any constructive criticism as much as we welcome praise. Any thoughts about the newsletter can be sent to a member of staff, and rest assured that your ideas will be discussed and, where possible and practical, gelled into our current routine.

Also, please note that we are still interested on taking on more staff, so if you enjoy journalism and want to become more involved in the CreateBlog community, please PM an application form (which can be found here) to either Fae (uninspiredfae) or James (Marchhare2UrAlice). We welcome all serious applicants!

Now, enjoy the read!

- The cB News Team (sans reporters, who are listed next to their articles)

Administrators: Fae [uninspiredfae], James [MarchHare2UrAlice]
Editors: Anna [Azarel], Justin [CrackedRearView], Meli[ChasingLife87], Nicki [tweeak]
Runners: Kiera[mzkandi]

(Note: Recent additions to the cB News Team are not listed.)

Table of Contents

01 Editor's Notes
02 Unveiling: xquizit - cB News Staff
03 The createBlog Health Forum - cB News Staff
04 createBlog Superlatives Results, Issue #2 - cB News Staff
05 It's Getting Controversial - Radhika [not_your_average], Kiera [mzkandi]
06 Flamboyant Rockstars and World Leaders End Poverty - Carolina [ichigofan]
07 File Sharing: Taking a Placemat from a Garage Band - Justin [CrackedRearView]
08 An iPod Society - Justin [Sadolakced Acid]
09 Losing Close Friends: Inevitable or Impossible? - Carolina [ichigofan]
10 The Offspring's Greatest Hits Album Review - Brie [Despise]
11 Today's Films - Sammi [Headphones]
12 Featured Poems - cB News Staff
13 The Ramblings of a Server - Justin [Sadolakced Acid]
14 Advice Abby - "Abby"

Discuss and reply at this thread, if you must.

This post has been edited by xquizit: Jul 18 2005, 12:56 PM

[cBNewsStaff]

Featured Poems
by cB News Staff
July2005

Featured Poems

We select a poem or two every issue from the poetry submissions thread . This is not a poetry contest to find the best poem or poet--we choose poems that convey the meaning we wish to feature. Poems submitted always remain in consideration.

This issue has two featured poems:

Catfight
by AkaRyux

Ablaze with cold fury,
These two gleaming eyes,
Staring at two others,
Two he did despise,

Their tails upright and tense,
Their fur like needle tips,
Their sharp teeth bared, their weapons,
Like poison, saliva drips,

Feline brows are furrowed,
Staring each other down,
No game, no sign of merriment,
Bloodthirsty, malicious frowns,

Then one leapt at the other,
A hiss, a scratch, a growl,
A feline yowl of agony,
A sound so very foul,

The dust arising from the bricks,
Bloodstains on the tile,
One is lying on the ground,
The victor adorns a smile.

"Let this be a lesson,
My silly former rival
We are strays, no rules, you see?
I'm better fit survival."

Catfight ©2005 AkaRyux

Perfection
by CrackedRearView

Until tonight I had never realized just how perfect the human figure is. As I stood there, isolated in a stark white room, alone in a sea of a hundred, I came to this conclusion. I found that the contours on the hand are perfectly complimentary. As if one day, your hands clasp, and the missing piece to the proverbial jigsaw is recovered.

So hypnotically calming was the idea of human perfection; so healing was the idea that perhaps things, like hands being shaped for one another, are planned, fabricated, executed, committed, and hurled onto the unsuspecting for an ultimately divine purpose; so numbing was the sense of propriety I felt in the connection of two hands.

And then it crashed down; her hands, like mine, were clasped. As if to erase the idea from the forefront of my mind, and as if a simple disconnection could eradicate the throes impeding my emotional stability, I quickly jerked my hands apart, and found pockets for them. Like a child hiding that one forbidden toy.

I remember mine like it's still in my arsenal; as if my wall of electronics, serving only for superficial entertainment, is still complimented by my childhood cap gun.

Oh, what a joy that little vessel of happiness truly was. What excitement it brought; what dolor it ended with. Banished from accessibility forever more, the cap gun dissolved into blurry memory, along with an ample amount of other, more important recollections of time spent with her.

The feeling is indescribable; the feeling of guilt that comes standard when you simply cannot remember your mother's voice without the assistance of an answering machine.

71 times, and counting. It's 27 seconds long, too. She sounds so artificial, yet I just can't bring myself to ignore it. It's as if her recorded message is the only snippet of her addictive, alluring voice that I'll ever be able to retain. As if that tape, that is tucked so tightly into my shirt pocket, is the last morsel of that beautiful voice I'll ever taste.

How ironic that it sits over my heart; the heart that failed. Failed at what it's programmed to do. Failed to love her when it was most important. Failed to do the job any typical son does. The heart that forgot her voice; the voice that first spoke to it. A heart that commits that foul is not a heart at all. Apparently, that must be the void in my chest, because I feel it. I feel it every day she's gone.

She was so beautiful tonight, wearing a white silk gown with exquisite trim. I put my hand on the edge of the casket, and stared in wonder; in paralyzing bewilderment. The stupefaction that such perfection can inflict on the observer is ineffable.

I leaned forward, and placed a final kiss on the very forehead I had kissed so many times. A final kiss; my heart's final attempt to succeed.

I remember, as I gazed my final gaze at this wondrous prototype of a mother, a solitary saline tear made the plunge from my face to hers.

"Don't cry, mom."

And the casket was closed. The hundred left. I stood, arms draped over my mother's final bed, yearning for the chance to exchange 18 years for five minutes.

But it never came. And I stood, a black suit, isolated by four oppressive, austere white walls, admiring perfection.

Perfection ©2005 CrackedRearView

Featured poems ©2005 cB News Staff