Writing Roots 4 -  Write On! 1974

By 1974, while I was still in band, I was offered a chance to be one of the editors of Write On!, and I spent my extra time in the publications room working as one of three editors that year.  I had the logo redone. Here’s what it looked like …

In this position as an editor, I saw how things were put together.  I was later asked by Mr. (Keith) Wellman, the publications advisor, who helped us layout  literary supplement, if I wanted to work for the school newspaper, The Triangle, my senior year.  I had a choice between band and publications.  My band director, Mr. Brown. suggested I go to the newspaper, thus ending my career as a musician. The summer of 1974, I went to a journalism workshop at Western Kentucky University and had my first dorm experiences away from home.  I became the feature editor of the school newspaper, was eventually initiated into Quill and School, a high school journalism honorary, and received the Most Improved Journalist Award the the 1975 Publications banquet.  Decisions were made for me to attend Ball State University majoring in photojournalism.

I had always taken family photos, and got my first camera (I still have it) when I was 10.  My roommate at WKU was a photographer, and I was on my way to another career interest.  I took an art photography class at Ivy Tech in Columbus before starting at BSU, just to get a head start.

The opportunity to be an editor of Write On! gave me the chance to get a few of my own works published as well.

Write On!,  Vol  IV, No. 3, Columbus North High School, Columbus, IN, March 14, 1974 

Clean Green Jean

Look out everybody,
Because here he comes.
Clean Green Jean is sweeping a path
And clearing out the bums.
“Who is he,” you ask.
Just look around for a six-inch imp
With his nose to the ground.
From the East to the West,
And the North to South
He will clean every home
To the dirtiest mouth.
Clean used to be good, But now it it bad.
If it doesn’t sparkle you are had!
The trail he leaves shall never end.
The smell of dirt he officially offends.
So beware of his poisonous spray,
Or his deadly broom.
Clean Green Jean might come
And bring you to your doom.

Write On!, May 24, 1974

Afraid

Afraid to care;
Afraid to know what’s coming;
but the future always comes.

What am I to do -
Run away and hide -
Or brave the truth?

My fingers are shaking,
And my teeth are chattering,
And my smile is still faking.
The silence grows louder-loudest.

I hear the door slam,
And I am still here;
And I am shaking, and
chattering,
And my smile is still faking.
WHAT IS THE FUTURE?
The Republic, Columbus, Indiana, Wednesday, October 9, 1974, Page 17

“Students Express Thoughts on Verse on Poetry Page”

Poet of Purpose

I do not build on money,
Nor do I build on lies.
I just work with words alone.
I am the Poet of the People
Searching for a home.
I am heated by anger,
And am cooled by fire.
I am scorched by wind just blown.
I am the Poet of the People’
Searching for a home.
I am not an actor,
Nor am I a player.
I don’t have seeds to be sown.
I am the Poet of the People
Searching for a home.
The world’s smallest libraries
Are filled to the brim,
The books of knowledge have grown.
All I am is a Poet of the People.

Write On!  Nov. 8, 1974

The Eyes

The eyes -feel
The eyes -hear
The eyes -smell
The eyes -tell if you…

The eyes -observing
The eyes -bloodshot
The eyes -happy
The eyes -sad
The eyes -tell
of you
like or love me

My senior year, I started working as a janitor at a department store, Ary-Way, to support the gas and oil for my 1962 Ford Fairlane 500 my dad bought me for my first car.  Between school, the school newspaper, my 20 or so hour a week job and my girlfriend, I was a busy guy.  I wrote something about my job, and it was put in the monthly newsletter.
Ayr-Way Speaking  Page 2, December 11, 1974

BALLAD OF THE 21-A
With his golden broom,
He will sweep any room.
Page him on the phone,
And he will be there soon.

With his great sweeping crew,
That never takes long,
They shall sweep the store;
And the 21-A leaves, singing’ a song.

When the sweeping is done,
It is time to wet-mop.
The 21-A works to the bone,
Only then will he stop.

The call of nature is clear,
And the 21-A is near.
The rest rooms are spic and span,
Fit for any child, woman or man.

The boxes of the store coming
To him shall never cease.
But the 21-A compacts them
When the button is released.

So, if you have a job
For the 21-A
Just contact him, and he’ll
Be there right away.

For anything that is thine,
He will clean it
‘Till it will sparkle and shine
This is the end of this rhyme.

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