Tag: Marisa Natoli

Soft Soil//Marisa Natoli & Cliffs of Moher//Faith Laskie

by Kennedy

Soft Soil by Marisa Natoli

I stand at the kitchen sink and pour

The musty water from the vase, 

And suddenly it comes back:

The scent of flowers that have died,

The feeling of walking through a cemetery. 

The ground is soft and receives my weight like sand. 

I watch as my grandmother leans over the headstone

And takes a rag to polish the photograph of my grandfather. 

I only remember him eating tangerines in the yard

And pricking his finger for blood at breakfast

And that he loved papaya. 

She speaks to him,

Her delicate hands grip the wrinkled bottle that splashes

Water across the marble surface of his grave. 

I stand there and imagine what her world feels like without him in it, 

How polishing his photo with a rag is now her visitation of him. 

She hands me the empty container and tells me to get more water. 

I walk towards the fountain and feel death beneath me. 

As the photographs watch me, I realize I am not familiar with death,

Despite its being beneath my feet. 

Now my grandmother,

Who glued flower necklaces to my grandfather’s headstone,

My grandmother who would grumble when asked to play cards,

My grandmother who fed me parmigiano because it is good for me, 

Is dead, placed within the very soil I used 

To walk on and wonder what it meant to die. 

I never imagined her as a photograph stuck in marble,

Where people speak to you as they rip dead flowers from your grave. 

But if I do return to my grandmother who laid in the soft soil, 

Perhaps she is not dead. 

She kisses me in my slumber,

She calls me tesoro,

She kneads gnocchi, 

She scoops ragu from the pot for a taste 

With a singular gloved hand. 

I used to think I could walk on death,

How trivial the marble sheet in the dirt yard is

When death is alive in my dreams.

Cliffs of Moher by Faith Laskie – Photography

Marisa Natoli

Marisa Natoli is a senior English Major from Maui, Hawaii. She has fallen deeper in love with writing and literature each year of her continued education. It is a pleasure and honor for her to have the opportunity to share her creative work. As it is her last semester at Morningside she hopes to be remembered for her creative voice.

Faith Laskie

Faith Laskie is a Senior double majoring in Elementary and Special Education from Le Mars, Iowa. Faith is currently student teaching 1st grade, and she has recently dabbled in photography with the help from her dad. At Morningside, she is involved in ODK, Sigma Tau Delta, ISEA, ALD, APO, Cozy Crochet Club, and the Head Resident of Roadman. She also spends her time volunteering at UnityPoint St. Luke’s Hospital under her title of Miss Iowa Ambassador of Hope for the non-profit organization, Tiaras of Hope.

Look Up//Devyn Reilly & Swallowed// Marisa Natoli

by Kennedy

Swallowed by Marisa Natoli

A ravine deepens with every tear that rolls. 

Look Up by Devyn Reilly – Photography

The crust of the earth has opened and swallows me,

Like a tiny crumb falling into its empty stomach. 

I scratch at the moss that breaks like clay on the soil’s skin,

There is no way out. 

Above me the sky regurgitates the stars and again the rise of the sun. 

I can’t make it stop, 

I am naked with stained skin trembling. 

The fire around me feels like making love,

I want to make love here,

Engulfed in the mouth of the dirt. 

Earth has reclaimed me,

Pressing my body into her pocket.

I can no longer make my way out. 

I have grown tired with the snow fall speckling

And whipping the remains of me. 

If December wanted me,

I’d take her back, but she doesn’t. 

I lay flat in November, with dirt and moss and mushrooms and snow,

Belonging to no one.

Devyn Reilly

Devyn Reilly is a senior majoring in Graphic Design with minors in Business Administration and Photography from Fountain, Colorado. At Morningside, she is the Co-President of the Morningside Student Advertising Agency (MSAA), Co-Vice President of Honors Convocation for ODK, and she is an Associate Art Director for Kiosk this year!

Marisa Natoli

Marisa Natoli is a senior English Major from Maui, Hawaii. She has fallen deeper in love with writing and literature each year of her continued education. It is a pleasure and honor for her to have the opportunity to share her creative work. As it is her last semester at Morningside she hopes to be remembered for her creative voice.

A Day in My Dreams // Marisa Natoli & Watchful // Madeline Keating

by Rachel

A Day in My Dreams // Marisa Natoli

I may not want to be awake, but the best day begins before the sun has risen. The quiet darkness of early morning wraps her hands around my tired face, and the thought of coffee entices me out of bed.

Standing in the coffee shop, the windows are still black in the absence of the sun. The barista hands me my serotonin with a smile in her eyes, even in this early hour.

I drive along the coast; the sun is making her arrival on the east. Ahead of me, the West Maui mountains hold their arms up at me and wave, “over here!” Just as they are cascaded upon by a looming pink hue. To my right, waves roll onto the shoreline glimmering in a glassy tune.

In my yoga studio, I am welcomed by the swirling scent of palo santo and essential oils. The yoga teacher curls her hands around a morning mug and gives me a maternal smile. I set my mat down and gently begin rolling out my neck, my body yawns. I feel the stagnant energy from my stillness is sleep releasing from the grooves of my body.

I lay in my final resting pose, accidentally dreaming of my post-yoga river dip. But the gentle music reminds me of where I am, and the world outside the front doors is finding life once again. Tears well up in my eyes as the instructor softly drags her mallet along the edge of the crystal bows sending waves of a deep hum to caress my Savasana.

My practice comes to a close and I stand to gather my belongings, changing the pace of the morning. My car awaits me, collecting the heat of the festering day ahead. The steering wheel has become hot to the touch, but I wrap my hands around it and begin driving towards the valley. Ahead of me, the opening between the two mountains smiles. I think back to how many times I have done this drive, and yet I find more beauty each time I approach it. The colossal green mounds beside me bow down to my arrival.

I park my car and cross the road to the small opening in the shrubbery. Only a short distance down a steep hill to my favorite boulder in the stream. The trees shielding me from the stream open at last and I find the peace and quiet of solitude. I pull my clothes off my body and walk towards the gentle hum of the water. One toe in, then two, the water is cold but its blue and emerald glow allures me. Half my body becomes consumed by the brisk awakening, I embrace it with a deep breath and submerge. The power of its coursing pulls my hair away from my head and with one exhale, I imagine all that no longer serves me falling away with the stream. Coming up for air, I look up and feel nuzzled by the pulsing presence of earth herself. My hands reach up to the boulder stationed beside me and hoist myself up. My naked body lay flat on the smooth and warm surface. The sun caresses my face with gentle kisses and for a brief moment, it feels as though I am exactly where I want to be, and the world is simply quiet.

A Day in My Dreams // Marisa Natoli

Marisa Natoli is a junior from Maui, Hawaii, majoring in English. She is grateful for any opportunity she gets to share her creativity with others. Language arts has been a special part of her life. Although at times writing is a therapeutic internal unraveling, she truly enjoys creating work that feels ready to be shared with the world and hopes that her readers have a spiritual experience when reading her work.

Recorded by the Kiosk Editorial Staff

Watchful // Madeline Keating

Madeline Keating is a junior from Overland Park, KS, double majoring in history and studio art and minoring in English. At Morningside, she is on the Women’s Swim team and is the Visual Art Editor for the Kiosk.

Recorded by the Kiosk Editorial Staff