Call for Submissions: Summer 2015

the Antioch Voice is now accepting submissions for the Summer 2015 print edition. We’re open to Antioch University Students, staff, faculty, and alumni, as well as participants, presenters, and alumni of the Antioch Writers’ Workshop. We’re looking for campus news, views, photography, artwork, research, and creative writing. Please see the summer guidelines below. Deadline for the print edition is May 1, 2015.

Summer Guidelines:

  • Flash fiction, essay, creative nonfiction, dramatic writing, and research: 2,000 words or less (12-point Times New Roman font, double-spaced)
  • Poetry: up to three poems, 100 lines or less, each
  • Art and Photography: files should be under 5 MG. Pictures can be artistic or related to some element of student, campus, or community life
  • Please send submissions in with the subject line: Voice Submission, and include a two to three sentence bio
the Antioch Voice is composed of a team of volunteers from Antioch University Midwest’s Robert Dizney Writing Center and the McGregor Library. If you’d like to be a part of the editorial team, please get in touch with us. By submitting to the Voice, writers and artists guarantee you are the creator/sole owner of copyright of the submitted work, and you allow us First Time North American Serial and Internet Publishing rights, after which all rights revert back to you, the authors and artists. Thank you for sharing your voices with us.

Black and White in Ferguson

By Augustine Wetta

A Sermon to the Saint Louis Priory School on December 10, 2015

No monk should ever defend another in the monastery. Nor should he take sides in an argument. Such conduct should never occur in the monastery under any circumstances because it causes very grave scandal.
–CHAPTER 69: Presuming to Defend a Brother

We decree that no one should be permitted to ostracize or to strike any one of his brothers; and if any monk should break this rule, let him be publicly reprimanded, that the others may learn from his mistake.
–CHAPTER 70: Presuming to Strike a Brother

In these two consecutive passages from The Rule, Saint Benedict outlines how a monk should respond when he encounters discord in his community. He doesn’t lash out, even if he feels justified. And doesn’t choose a side, even though he may think he knows all the facts. Instead, he listens—as he is compelled to do by the opening words of the Rule itself: he “inclines the ear of his heart” (Prologue, 1.1).

Like most people in North America right now, I’ve been thinking about Ferguson. Or rather, I’ve been wondering what I should do about it. But I live in a monastery in a suburb of Saint Louis that was recently ranked #12 of the twenty-five most affluent neighborhoods in the North America. What do I know about urban poverty or racism?

Continue reading →

189 N. Marengo Street, Apt 206

By Andrea Auten

Serenity comes in the size of a studio apartment
Overlooking the second building to the right
Down just beyond the 210 freeway
With subtle scents like free coffee in the lobby
A clean and quiet hallway freshly painted in hipster olive-tan
Old wood floors and a new Ikea kitchen
Windows that barely move up and down with ancient sashes
Like home.

Winter spritzes rain
stopping SoCal traffic, though my Samsung Phone—
when double tapped—
reads the temperature of the Midwest:
snow-cast warning.

The cat seems equally serene.
It fits her to be in this small walled, high ceiling brief history of the 1920’s
tall and skinny building where she can look out beyond
The previous cat-owners, their dappled days of refined Charleston
Gramophone tin-can street songs
from simpler times. Sitting
on the window sill, stately staking her claim.

My man will come home in the dark
Weary from too much discipline meted out to wearier kids
Beaten down by poverty and inequality losing
one more chink of their Dignity
in this city that polarizes the line between those in ‘the bizz’ and the rest of us
The City of Angels, and discord, and too much, and tired, and dusty, and grand—
My man will eat dinner with me
And pet our cat, awaiting his man lap.

Keep Me Pristine and Alive

By J. E. Cook

I have this feeling
That I will be damaged goods~forever.
My threadbare scars will never entirely mend
and fuse my discolored skin…
Into one unit of less complex nervous causeways.

The need to be clean of you,
and feel safe and protected again is fierce
inside my gut.
My happiness is the upmost value,
my retaining wall must remain
high above all and lost in the vapors of many dust molts
carrying away the fragments of your being,
along with the untwined stagnant corpus luteum.
May my peace be renewed in the cobalt pools
surrounding my pulsing liquid red compassion,
As joy flutters in accompanied with surges of prosperity,
Keeping my inner light burning from a minuet flicker
to a full raging combusting furnace.


By Lisa Geichman Prosek

“Thirty seven.”

That’s how many brain tumors my brother says lie in our little sister’s head.

A tumor for each year Beth had lived when diagnosed with carcinoid cancer nine years ago, plus two tumors for good measure.

I can’t believe the words coming out of my cell phone as I pace in the hall at Antioch University Midwest on Saturday, ten minutes before I’m to teach Expository Writing. Continue reading →

Human Rights is a Religion

As presented at the 2014 Cross-Disciplinary Symposium
By April Milbry

She wears the blackness of her robe long and flowing, possessing the Elixir in Holy of Holies, she is the Old One, rated as a pupil of Hermes, Thrice the Great, or perhaps even His daughter, as Above so Below, One must go down before they go up.

She is a teacher of Alchemy, the vessel of matter both Good and Evil transforming estate in jurisdictions and Order, a picture of something that was made Divine, yet, Youth is Her Nature, bringing a Peace that surpasses from glory to glory, the existence of a true love—One can’t deny.

She is the central image of Law, Justice, and World Order, just a representation of a few of Her characters in individual expressions; casting the fundamental constitution both body and scroll, for he-roes and legends, and all others are told.

She is the shadows of her victims, the huntress of intruders, yet, a self- reflection of Rapturous Delight Duty; the Personal Master, Philosopher’s Angel, Initiator, and Tutor. She is the object and secret of ALL that there is, in Her True Beauty.

She is a Dual Energy that presides over Life, Exalted among the Heavens and Earth abound take flight; She carries the vibrations of True Life, where Liberation in Union of Intellect there find Supreme Mother, Cure-ALL; uniting and going apart.

Lady Liberty is Her name; as High Priestess unveiling shame, she holds a sword in one hand to cut out injustice, then ministering balance in hearers and doers.

Social Justice is her interest fair-play, by social contract is given of oneself in regime. In the Halls of Justice, you find Her throne, where truth abounds only in discussion at Home.

The Goal here my friend, is a Form of light, a Volatile Spirit creative principle and manifestation of power, made in this image One can’t go wrong, for what might seem wrong is only true likeness in Absolute.

A Brotherly Love, which we call Life, as the aspect of soul in redemption infinity. The Perfect Nature I say, expression in Wisdom, handed down from generation to generation and self-determination.

The fiery message is recycled again and again.