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According to the works of J.R.R. Tolkien, the Palantir is a powerful, magical, seeing stone throughwhich man may glimpse distant lands and times. Each year the talented students of Perkiomen Schoolcontribute artwork, photography, poetry, and prose for the spring publication of The Palantir. Thestaff would like to thank: all the students who submitted work this year; Mr. MacIntyre for his help withtechnology; Mr. Allison and the Perkiomen School Parents’ Association for their continued support;the contest judges for their time and consideration.

CONTRIBUTORSCONTRIBUTORSCONTRIBUTORSCONTRIBUTORSCONTRIBUTORS

Class of 2008Class of 2008Class of 2008Class of 2008Class of 2008Marc Dominianni 15-16**, 17, 27-28**Kendra Gaul 18, 23*Deana Ann Gursky 11, 20, 21*, 23, 26*Na Young (Kelly) Kim 11, 12, 24, 25, 26Jesieg (Jason) Kim 3-4**, 17, 23-24**Jun Young (Jason) Park 11, 23Daniel Pittman 11, 13, 23Lily Scott 18Ayumu (Amy) Sei 12Hui Wang 2, 9Jo-Han Wang 8, 21-22**

Class of 2009Class of 2009Class of 2009Class of 2009Class of 2009Ye-Ji (Jennifer) Hong 4, 22*J.J. Minder Cover**, 1-2**, 7-8**, 11-12**, 13-14**, 19*, 20, 19-20**, 29-30**Sang Jun Park 8Leo Peretz 5-6**, 25-26**Emilio Spindler 9Christie Thompson 14

Class of 2010Class of 2010Class of 2010Class of 2010Class of 2010Stephanie Black 15, 19, 25Edwin D. Stubbs 9, 24*Jingqiao Wang 3, 22*, 25Ji Woo Won 15, 16, 28*

Class of 2011Class of 2011Class of 2011Class of 2011Class of 2011Janell Barr 27Annamaria Corrado 5, 7, 9-10**, 12, 17-18**, 23Laura Glogovsky 5, 8, 10*Lindsey Manferdini 19, 25*Hayley Schultz 10, 20

Class of 2012Class of 2012Class of 2012Class of 2012Class of 2012Yaminah Carter 3Rebecca F. Griffiths 3*, 7*, 24*Patrick James Jones 9*

Class of 2013Class of 2013Class of 2013Class of 2013Class of 2013Dominic Deveney 22Margaret Dougherty 3*, 12, 13Monica Grube 6*Olivia Hoffman 13, 16Min Jung (Angela) Koh 6Joshua Silverstein 6*,14

Class of 2014Class of 2014Class of 2014Class of 2014Class of 2014Dagny Moll Barone 5*Jasmine Cora 10Dorita Deveney 28*Katherine Dix 4*, 6, 16Madison Faraco 7, 17Emma Longstreth 14, 17, 22

Class of 2015Class of 2015Class of 2015Class of 2015Class of 2015Brad Owens Heinziger 5*

StaffStaffStaffStaffStaffDr. Tom Falone

*Contest Winners*Contest Winners*Contest Winners*Contest Winners*Contest Winners**Background**Background**Background**Background**Background

1

The Palantir2008

Hui Wang

2

Fluffy, White CloudsFluffy, White CloudsFluffy, White CloudsFluffy, White CloudsFluffy, White Clouds

Fluffy, white clouds lay still on the ground.Not a stirring animal to be found.The world is a painting hidden under white drapes,waiting for spring to allow its escape.Harsh, cold gusts of wind,rapidly blowing frozen, white lint.I lose the feeling in my nose and ears,the wind causes my eyes to tear.Coats, gloves, mittens, and hats.Only time for fun, no time to chat.People spreading holiday cheer;Santa Claus will soon be here.With my family, love fills the air,there are many stories and jokes to be shared.This wonderful time would not be around,without fluffy, white clouds on the ground.

Yaminah Carter

The Rough Old TreeThe Rough Old TreeThe Rough Old TreeThe Rough Old TreeThe Rough Old Tree

Branches reaching out like armsTwisting and bending

Bumpy and toughWith no place to climb

It stands lonely

Margaret Dougherty

Jingqiao Wang

The NotesThe NotesThe NotesThe NotesThe Notes

Notes weaving into and out of my earsSwirling around me

Covering me like a blanketBouncing off walls

Sending vibrations through the airFading in and out

Becoming pale and turning whiteCrumpling and falling to the ground

Slowly deteriorating until they sound no more

Rebecca F. Griffiths

3

A Portion from Paris Poodle’s Book ofA Portion from Paris Poodle’s Book ofA Portion from Paris Poodle’s Book ofA Portion from Paris Poodle’s Book ofA Portion from Paris Poodle’s Book ofFood Stealing DisastersFood Stealing DisastersFood Stealing DisastersFood Stealing DisastersFood Stealing Disasters(Based on a True Story)

The smell wafts through the air to my ravenous bodySignaling, Mommy’s cooking, dinner is on the way

It’s too hard for a little dog like meTo keep cravings out of my mind

With a loud plip, plopTwo shiny peasAre on the floor

It’s them I must seize

My paws silently swoosh across the groundI am closer to the peas

Mommy should never catch me

So sneaky and slyThe peas for tonight’s chicken pot pie

Are safely nestled in my mouth

I chomp on themAnd with my luck

Mommy directs her attention toward meShe doesn’t look back as her pie burns

And the rest ishistory

Katherine Dix

Always when I look atYour sweet and arrogant face

Your countenanceOf splendor and conceit

Beats in my soulI feel your hand on my chest

But your touch makes me afraidThat some day you will not have

Me or my sentimentsI feel we are not to beI feel you are leaving

I notice that when you are not with meI die for your kisses

With the thought of us not togetherMy lips go dry

Like they are without water in the summer

Anonymous

4

Ye-Ji (Jennifer) Hong

Let It Go, Just Like the WindLet It Go, Just Like the WindLet It Go, Just Like the WindLet It Go, Just Like the WindLet It Go, Just Like the Wind

Have you ever felt the wind?Like really felt it?

I don’t mean just going outside and saying it is windy.I mean feeling the wind brushing up against your skin,

blowing deep into your soul.Do yourself a favor,

go for a drive with all the windows down.Stick your head out.

Feel the wind brush and shake your hair.Just let everything go,

like the wind.

Annamaria Corrado

A.K.A. SkittlezA.K.A. SkittlezA.K.A. SkittlezA.K.A. SkittlezA.K.A. Skittlez

The chewy rainbow colored candyAs well as my nickname

Because of my bright NikesThat don’t match my clothes

And make me end-up looking like a bag of Skittles

Some people think they’re uglySome people think they’re sick

“Your shoes look like a crosswalk vest”“Did a highlighter explode on your shoes?”

People have said much moreBut I just ignore themI’m expressing myself

It takes some guts to do

I am obsessed with NikesEveryone knows

I have colorful kicksThat is why I go by Skittlez

Laura Glogovsky

Brad Owens Heinziger

Dagny Moll Barone

5

Twinkling SkiesTwinkling SkiesTwinkling SkiesTwinkling SkiesTwinkling Skies

A long time agoMy grandma and her sister

Were lying on the grass, counting starsOne, two, three

Silver, white, goldThis is mineThat is yours.

My sister and IHave never seen stars

Only the dark smoggy skyWe wish to see their light in Seoul’s night

Lying on the grass, counting the stars with my sister is my dream

Min Jung (Angela) Koh If Parents DisappearedIf Parents DisappearedIf Parents DisappearedIf Parents DisappearedIf Parents Disappeared

If all parents peculiarly disappeared,who knows how much fun I’d have?

I would run around and play,‘till the end of the day.

I would have so much fun,you’d think I was weird,if parents disappeared.

I would make ice cream cones as tall as towers.People would cower.

I could glue my eyes to the T.V. set for the day,no matter what adults would say.

Toys and games would call to me,asking if I would linger.

You see, I could be whatever I want to be,even if it’s a professional gamer.

Frittering away my time,it would be sublime,

if the parents went somewhere else to stay.

If all parents peculiarly disappeared,I would have so much fun,you’d think I was queer,if parents disappeared.

Katherine Dix

Monica Grube

6

Joshua Silverstein

Boston Tea PartyBoston Tea PartyBoston Tea PartyBoston Tea PartyBoston Tea Party

The night is quiet,all is still

waiting for the whistle’s shrill.Staying hidden,

out of sight,the moon is streaming a cool, faint light.

You hear a sound far away, then closer it comes to the bay.You hop aboard the closest ship,and smash the tea chests into bits.

More come to help you stomp the leaves,so overboard it shall be heaved.Through the night you toiled,

‘til all the tea is spoiled.

Madison Faraco

Incapable of Fixing AnythingIncapable of Fixing AnythingIncapable of Fixing AnythingIncapable of Fixing AnythingIncapable of Fixing Anything

Two beautiful sick babiesFour visits a day

Ten phone calls an hourFifteen tests

Seventeen pricksTwenty headaches

Thirty doctors to meet and want to ignoreFifty nurses running in-and-out

One hundred people to call, but just don’t feel like itThree hundred things that are never accomplished

Infinite tears and worries

Annamaria Corrado

Rebecca F. Griffiths

Rebecca F. Griffiths

7

AnonymousAnonymousAnonymousAnonymousAnonymous

I don’t know youYou don’t know me

You gave me awayTo an orphanage

I’m glad I don’t remember itI heard it wasn’t pleasant

All I have are picturesBut none of you

I will find you one dayWherever you are

Not knowing you is a secret to meThat I will have until I find you

I hope you’re alive and healthyAnd thinking about what you gave away

I have so many questionsBut no one to ask

Every day I move onI hide all the emotions

I have family and friendsThat will love me ‘til the end

And when the end comesI hope you’re there crying for

the person you never knew

Laura Glogovsky

EscapeEscapeEscapeEscapeEscape

Dark-tinted sunglasses cover my face,hide what's going on inside.

As I stroll through the train station,searching for the memories I knew I'd find.

Connect the dots to another place,where the street performers play.The music tied us both together,

but I knew I couldn’t stay.

The Piccadilly Circus waited,it was where we had to meet.I know I needed to move on,

so I boarded the train and took a seat.

I'm wiser when the journey ends,but I'm back to where I began.

I cannot change my life from what it is,so accept the facts from where I ran.

Jo-Han Wang

The BenchThe BenchThe BenchThe BenchThe Bench

Seated on the benchWatchingWaiting

When am I going in?Am I ever going to play?

WatchingWaiting

Is it my turn?What is different about them?

Are they faster?Are they stronger?

Are they simply better?The game is over

We’ve wonI walk home with tearsfalling down my cheeks

Anonymous

8

Sang Jun Park

The slow, stirring mental revolutions of a broken-hearted individual tear at the serenityof the late hours. The long, languid afternoons of euphoric intoxication tainted withteenaged derangement no longer drip with premature satisfaction. Do the warm, woolymemories of youth glitter in your old age as well? Never mind. We all die a little whenwe’re no longer loved.

Emilio Spindler

Personifying Your IgnorancePersonifying Your IgnorancePersonifying Your IgnorancePersonifying Your IgnorancePersonifying Your Ignorance

The personification of your ignorance will be your downfall.Trying to undermine me as a black youth in a comercial world.

How dare you even hint that I do not belong,just because I show my ethnicity in every little thing I do,

from my walk, to my speech and dress.This is me, get used to it,

for I’m here to stay.I could respond to your ignorant remarks,

but that’s what you want.To make me lose my cool and become another angry, black stereotype.

The thing you don’t know is that I understand your strategy isto throw me off track, so I won’t reach my goal.

Nope, not this time.Maybe it worked on other students before me,

but I’m too clever for that.I might not be the strongest academic,

but I do deserve to be here.You may tell me all you want that I don’t.

I have worked hard to get to this place.Even though racism and other unknowing prejudices might be present,

there still are some good people here.I am here for me,

so don’t bring me down,and you won’t get hurt.

Edwin D. Stubbs

Hui Wang

9

Patrick James Jones

Doggy TalkDoggy TalkDoggy TalkDoggy TalkDoggy Talk

I am a dog, four years old,got lots of fur, so I never get cold.I sleep a lot and pretend to snore,

only so my owners can’t sweep anymore.I hate when everyone leaves me and goes away,

so every time they go, I make them pay.I get into something to make them mad,so maybe they will stay ‘cause their sad.When I am given food I like, I eat it all,

but when it’s not good, I only eat an amount that is small.If I see a bath in my sight,I will put up a good fight.

Still, I never get my own way,so I’m always in the bath to stay.Even though I would like to talk,

I still would rather be a dog,because I can get as fat as a log.

I also like not having to do a single chore.I know I would rather sleep more.

I love my owners, just as they love me,but some things they want to understand,

they might never comprehend.

Jasmine Cara

A Place Called HomeA Place Called HomeA Place Called HomeA Place Called HomeA Place Called Home

People laughing,others screaming.

The world’s chaos is too overwhelming.You turn to run and hide,

but instead you find a place.A place that you can call home.

You feel secure without the worry of acceptance.This place is your world,

and nothing will replace the feelings you have for it.Eventually, you will have to move on,

go to college and build a refuge of your own.Without this feeling of assurance,

you are lost and don’t know what to do.So, make the whole world your home,and feel comfortable wherever you go.

Hayley Schultz

Laura Glogovsky

10

Conceptions of An Untold PastConceptions of An Untold PastConceptions of An Untold PastConceptions of An Untold PastConceptions of An Untold Past

The dark conception of an untold pastThe story of a misguided soul

The girl who would never make it nor lastWith the beauty of the fairest dove

She will never breathe tomorrowOr gaze on faces of those whom she lovesShe was killed by cupid’s bow and arrow

She is watching from the heavens aboveShe fell victim to an evil scourge

She will never find love

Alive, she might be here to stayWithout love, she withered away

Daniel Pittman

Annie’s PoemAnnie’s PoemAnnie’s PoemAnnie’s PoemAnnie’s Poem

I remember being chased with a broom,and running from your wooden spoon.These are memories of younger days.

I remember the stuffed alligator on your wall,and the tricks my brother and I tried with gall.

These are memories from closer to today.

I remember all your visits.Money for good grades.

The shopping adventures,where you would always pay.

I remember the last time I saw you well, at your best at least.

Your suffering has finally ceased.In God’s midst may you rest.

Deana Ann Gursky

Na Young (Kelly) Kim

Jun Young (Jason) Park

11

Just Another PersonJust Another PersonJust Another PersonJust Another PersonJust Another Person

Fake smiles placed on masked facesHiding true feelings and personality

Greetings said just because“It’s the right thing to do”

Small talk about unrelated thingsTo cover up the great guilt of not caring

Sticking to the main topic mostlyBut knowing that neither of you are really listening

Subtle glances at the small clock That makes you squint to see its numbers

Sensing the other person wantsTo leave just as much as you do

Trying to respect each otherBut knowing you are just another person

Thinking, “What’s the point?”Graciously accepting that you’ll be

Just another person

Annamaria Corrado

Na Young (Kelly) Kim

The MoonThe MoonThe MoonThe MoonThe Moon

On a cloudy nightThe moon seems tired

Worn out from travelingSuch a long distance in such a short time

From China to BrazilIn a mere twenty-four hours

Hiding behind cloudsTaking a break from shedding its’ light

Margaret Dougherty

Ayumu (Amy) Sei

12

Thank YouThank YouThank YouThank YouThank You

There was a lingering pain that grew.It was unbearable.

I appeared fine,but inside I was breaking.

Corrupted, screaming for help,I became weak.

I tried to go on, but I only grew weaker.Surrendering, I asked for help.

I came to you for guidance, advice.You gave me that and more.

I was renewed.The pain died.It's gone away.

All thanks to you.I am forever grateful.

Thank you.

Daniel Pittman

Olivia Hoffman

Margaret Dougherty

13

Joshua Silverstein

Emma Longstreth

14

Only SixteenOnly SixteenOnly SixteenOnly SixteenOnly Sixteen

Every time it's something newIt's like you're my dream coming true

When our eyes meet, a glance is sharedThat says even more than we're awareIt's like a ray of sun on a dismal day

Or finding the perfect word when you had nothing to sayIt's like a hot, steamy shower on a snowy, white night

Or watching waves on the beach by summer's early morning lightYour arms around me warm and tight

Tell me everything's going to be all rightMy hands that seek to hold onto yours

Express the feelings for you that I cannot defineEvery smile that we share

Tells me that you're always going to be thereEvery second together that we spend

Makes me want our time to never endOnly sixteen, but I feel so sure

That I couldn't love another person moreSo when I close my eyes to sleep

It’s you whose image in my head I keepMerely months, but lifetimes full of memories

Every day I spend with youIs even better than the one before

Christie Thompson

Ji Woo Won

See? See?All our conversations have to do with are daily encountersThe flame that once wasIs gone with the ashesEven the embers do not remainHe wants to move onShe tells herself to forget him

She cries to herself

He doesn't see her painHidden, hidden,Hidden by her facade ofLies, truth, liesLies toldOnly to please the otherBut appeasement fosters tunnel visionOnly his own needs seen through green eyes

She cries to herself

His eyesPlague her every thoughtHis faceHaunting her every reverieFades to shadows

And still she cries to herself

Stephanie Black

You ask me why I cry. I cry because I want a tragic love story. I want to fall in love with someone I barely know. I want toconfront him right before the sun sets. I want my heart to race like a horse in the Kentucky Derby, waiting for his reply. Iwant him to say he loves me too, but it wouldn't work. I want him to say we live too far apart and that we could still be friends.I want to tell him love has no distance or dimension. I want my try to fail. I want to see him again in person and give him agentle kiss. I want him not to change his mind. I want to not talk for two weeks. I want him to call at 2 a.m. and hear himsay he misses me. I want him to say he loves me instead of "Sleep well" when we hang up.

I cry because only the first half is true.

Stephanie Black

15

Sounds of a StormSounds of a StormSounds of a StormSounds of a StormSounds of a Storm

The ground complains as the rain pounds itLightning silently screams, frightened of the thunder and the darkThe sounds of the storm make conversation with each other

Olivia Hoffman

Whirlwind of SoundWhirlwind of SoundWhirlwind of SoundWhirlwind of SoundWhirlwind of Sound

Wham, whirl, slamTornado’s screams punch my eardrums like a boxerWhat a whirlwind of soundTrees jammed mercilessly against the groundBy the Tornado’s sidekick, Wind, until their roots rip upWhirlwind of Sound

Tornado screeches and cacklesRubbing his airy hands mischievouslyLooking for prey which he soon tacklesWithout a poker faceHis plans are crystal clearHis evil ways make my head searThe Whirlwind of Sound is on a mission to terrorizeHe will only stop once his plans are realized

Whenever Tornado is nearDon’t dismiss your unfathomable fearRun awayFrom the Whirlwind of Sound

Katherine Dix

Ji Woo Won

16

Good NightGood NightGood NightGood NightGood Night

I wake up in the morning, and feel rather confused.Then I sit up, feeling bemused.

For a split second, I wonder what woke me from sleep.Then I see my brother on my bed.

I feel annoyance creeping into my sleepy head.“Rise and shine!” he grins, sitting on me like I was a mule.

Suddenly, I remember and get dressed for school.My brother reminded me in his strange way.

But wait a minute. . . it is night, not day.Four o’clock the clock says.

I flop downand there I stay.

Emma Longstreth

The Slowest 20 Minutes of My LifeThe Slowest 20 Minutes of My LifeThe Slowest 20 Minutes of My LifeThe Slowest 20 Minutes of My LifeThe Slowest 20 Minutes of My Life

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tickI swear this is the slowest clock I’ve ever seen!

Our teacher is really mean!She’s making us write a poem during the last 20 minutes of school.

It has to have onomatopeia in it,so I was having a fit.

Suddenly, there were almost no minutes left.The lack of words on my paper has made me bereft.

I’ll probably get a “D.”Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick

5 minutes left to flee.This slow clock was my foe.

4 minutes left to go.Then, it’s just me and Christmas break!

I can’t think of anything to put in this poem I have to make.2 minutes, almost time for fun!

1 more minute to finish and we’re done!40 seconds, 30 seconds, 20 seconds, 10 seconds and…

Christmas Break is here!Let’s cheer!

Madison FaracoJesieg (Jason) Kim

Marc Dominniani

17

My HandsMy HandsMy HandsMy HandsMy Hands

I would not be surprised if it started in the womb. Maybe it was then, over eighteen years ago, when my idiosyncrasyfirst appeared. For as long as I am able to recall, I have always had to be utilizing my hands. Yet, these tasks did not involvemere thumb twiddling or knuckle cracking, although I am sometimes guilty of the latter. Rather, I have always had to befixing or creating through the means of my hands.

As a little girl, I found myself constantly engaged in some type of tactile project. Over the years, I have gone fromfinger painting: to sketching; to knitting; to gardening; to taking apart alarm clocks just to be able to put them back together: tosculpting and building with clay. Although a clear distinction exists between these tasks, each involves the use of motor skills,whether highly defined or not. Among these tasks, working with clay and performing scientific experiments are clear favor-ites.

I find biology experiments and clay sculpting equally mesmerizing and thought provoking. To make an exemplarypiece of pottery or get irrefutable experiment results, one needs patience and stability as well as enthusiasm and spontaneity.The delicacy and focus required to perform a dissection or to measure fifteen milliliters of a solution precisely at the meniscuscomes from the same part of me as does my pursuit of ceramic skills.

To me molding and manipulating clay into an imagined form is something of an enchantment. Since I work in such ameticulous way, my clay will unintentionally get overly dry, crack, and then need to be pieced back together using “claysurgery”. In a twisted way, I somewhat enjoy this fragmenting. Although I do not take pleasure in seeing my hard workcrumble before my eyes, the practice of delicately molding the shattered parts into a whole, sometimes even utilizing a “suturetechnique,” makes me feel truly accomplished. To create or recreate something beautiful with my own hands gives me pride.

Yet, why does working with my hands provoke such a sense of fulfillment? Perhaps the feeling exists because of howremarkably splendid hands are! I remember years ago simply gazing at my hand for minutes at a time, a solitary event thatstill occurs to this day. As I marveled at their structure and complexity, I was led to ponder creation because something soimmaculate could hardly have come from nowhere. Hands are simultaneously artistic and scientific, thus bringing togethermy two favorite aspects of life. Using my own hands, I want to save more than the lives of clay creations. As a future sur-geon, I would be continuing my long streak of creating and fixing. I would, quite literally, have lives in my hands.

Lily Scott

18

Kendra Gaul

ConfusionConfusionConfusionConfusionConfusion

Confusion. Chaos. Pandemonium. Mayhem.Whatever your word, this is it. It’s the perplexity of thefirst fight with your lover, mixed with the relief of examday. You are finally glad it has come and now you marchwith your banner raised high on the plateau of humannature, waiting to fall off the edge and die. Life has givenyou the supplies to take each step with confidence and liftyourself up when someone gets in your way. Yet, there arepeople who walk backward in life, people who have beenstuck in the tar pits of hell. Sometimes when walkingthrough the dark depths, you feel like you’re at a memorialservice, because those people are the living dead. Theyonly serve as a complication to the life you’ve chosen andthe path you will stick to. Your course is different thanwhat is socially acceptable, so people try to push you ontothe path prescribed by civilization. Only you who goesagainst the norm see that the damned can be saved. Lifefor a liberator like you is difficult because you mourn thoseyou could not rescue while all of humanity celebrates theirdemise with smiles and polite claps of their hands.Mankind’s air is thick with harsh words and hatred.

Stephanie BlackSistersSistersSistersSistersSisters

LaughingFightingSmilingCrying

Through thick and thinWe’re there for each otherWe count on each other

No matter whatEven when we fight

We still know we have each otherWe’re sistersWe’re friends

Lindsey Manferdini

J.J. Minder

J.J. Minder

19

DreamsDreamsDreamsDreamsDreams

Dreams are a way of life,so everyone has one.

Those dreams might be hard to achieve,people might tell you that they might never come true.

Others might think you are crazy.In order to attain your goalthere is hard work involved.

Eventually, if you truly believe and stuggle,your dreams will become reality.

Ignore what others think,believe in yourself,

and make your dreams come true.

Hayley Schultz

PaternityPaternityPaternityPaternityPaternity

Some people define a father,as the man who shares their chromosomes;

whether he is there orhe has left the home.

Some people define fatherhoodas paying child support;

only giving money,not helping when children hurt.

Because I am adopted,I know that’s not true.The father that I knowis a big part of me too.

You taught me how to ride a bike.You taught me how to read.

You taught me how to love and care.You taught me not to be mean.

I think a fatheris someone I call “Dad;”

someone who’s always therewhen I’m feeling bad.

You, my Daddy, have always been here for me;loving me to piecesthrough the pain.

I don’t have your chromosomes,but you’re still half of me

and that I’ve always known.

Deana Ann Gursky

J.J. Minder

20

The Things She CarriesThe Things She CarriesThe Things She CarriesThe Things She CarriesThe Things She Carries

She carries a purse that she bought on super sale at her favorite store. Her sister picked the color, which is why itended up being pink. Within the purse she carries soft black gloves for cold weather, sunglasses for brilliant sunshine andcherry blossom hand sanitizer for emergency disinfecting. A smaller bottle of unscented hand sanitizer is attached to thepurse’s handle by a miniature carabineer. Also inside she carries her cell phone, containing her lifelines; her friends’ phonenumbers, and an alarm to wake her up every morning to go to a school she loves.

Her purse contains a garage door opener as well. The garage door opener opens the garage that houses the car forwhich she carries keys on a green carabineer. These keys are the source of much discontent. The keys allow her to get toher safe-house, school, but also operate a vehicle that belongs to her mother. Her mother threatens to take them away. Thethreat and loss of the keys is not what bothers her. What bothers her is what her mother fails to understand that the threatmeans. She carries a wish that her mother could hear the words she says, instead of only hearing the tone she uses to saythem. She carries the tears that sometimes fall, and a need to be away from home. She knows that she cannot leave becauseshe carries the burden of the knowledge that leaving would not only tear her heart in two, but also the heart of both of herparents.

She wears contacts to create an illusion of perfect vision, yet she includes a glasses repair kit in her purse, opposite hergarage door opener. She carries the repair kit in an attempt to reassure herself that almost anything can be fixed if the righttools are available.

The purse houses a wallet with a picture of her best friend, and twin soul who was lost to a boy. She carries hope thather elusive friend will realize the pain she causes with every ignored text message and missed phone call. She carries a blueribbon from a candy rose she received from a friend on the last day of the fall play. The ribbon is tied in a neat bow to theoutside of the purse as a reminder of the love that her friend showed her. A purple sticky note pad is tucked in her purse.She carries it to remind her of the days when she learned Korean in Calculus by having her now expelled friend write down aKorean word and its’ English translation. She would practice writing the word until she had it memorized to perfection. Shecarries sadness because her friend was expelled, and she knows her friend is smarter than that.

She carries a mask in hand, ready to put it on at the slightest movement. The mask covers the feelings she carries, inorder to promote the image of a happy girl who is ready to take on the world. The mask conceals her fear of failure and ofdisappointing her parents and the others around her. It hides her self-consciousness and lack of self confidence.

She carries hope. Hope that her mother will one day see how she feels, and hear what she says. Hope that her friendswill figure life out. Hope that she will have what she needs to mend what gets broken. She mostly carries a hope that she canlearn to trust herself.

Deana Ann Gursky

21

An Unremarkable Piece of PaperAn Unremarkable Piece of PaperAn Unremarkable Piece of PaperAn Unremarkable Piece of PaperAn Unremarkable Piece of Paper

This piece of paper stares at me,never revealing its’ unfathomable depths.What is hidden, we can only guess.The only key is in your mind and heart,for all the knowledge in history means little to you,when you wonder what to do,with an unremarkable piece of paper,staring blandly back at you.No skills can help you at this fork in the path.No turning around, no running back.This piece of paper, from a stack,is sucking me in like a deep quagmire.Now over the paper I toil and tire.Then in my head there is a light,of purest, clearest inspiration.All of my thinking and perspiration,was unnecessary, for all I had to do was write.

Emma Longstreth

Ye-Ji (Jennifer) Hong

Jingqiao Wang

Dreams I DreamDreams I DreamDreams I DreamDreams I DreamDreams I Dream

In my dreamsI am a soldier

Lost in the world of warWaiting for the killBut there is no one

So I keep waitingBut there is still no one

I am lostFor no one to see

Because I am hiding from my own fearsI have nowhere to go

No one to help find meIf only the world was peacefulAnd I could only find my way

Dominic Deveny

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What’s Your Life?What’s Your Life?What’s Your Life?What’s Your Life?What’s Your Life?

Entertaining, laughing, eating, lovingNew people, happy families, new friends

Smiles, jokes, funReleasing extraordinary happiness

Yelling, fighting, screaming, hatingTears flying everywhere

Stress, fear, worriesHolding in extraordinary unhappiness

Annamaria Corrado

Dark SensationDark SensationDark SensationDark SensationDark Sensation

A deep serenity in her eyesShe lies there in her pain

The enticing glare is fadingShe lies there dying

Breaking insideLonging for his touch

The spectacle of his gloryThe dark sensation of his death haunts her

She strives for his kissThe hypnotic clarity of her memories enlightens her

As she lies thereYearning for relief

Daniel Pittman

Kendra Gaul

Jun Young (Jason) Park

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Endurance of the HeartEndurance of the HeartEndurance of the HeartEndurance of the HeartEndurance of the Heart

The parting of two bodies happens over time,but the parting of two souls is impossible.

They are connected by the bond created during their time on earth,no matter how short that time was.

One person spins a web,of life and endurance.

The person left behind after the other body departs,balances carefully on these tenuous silken threads,

reassuring himself that he will meet his extinguished one again.When that time comes,

the heavens will open up with a loving embrace,that will wrap the body and nourish the soul.

‘Til then, the heart endures,never allowing itself to be filled with sorrow or pain.

Endurance of the heart,that’s what is truly important in times of pain.

Edwin D. Stubbs

NightmareNightmareNightmareNightmareNightmare

Black clouds, wind, treesI come to this place

Every night in my dreamsHere I am, in this forest of ash

I walk in a black meadowI touch the black grass

Then, I spy a single white roseMy hope starts to grow

Eventually, its’ white petals turn grayAnd take on the same shade of darkness

I scream, turn away, wishing my sweet dreams back

Rebecca F. Griffiths

Na Young (Kelly) Kim

Na Young (Kelly) Kim

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ElsewhereElsewhereElsewhereElsewhereElsewhere

Is it real?It is the place inside your head.

A place of your creation.Where everything is your way.

A place where it is okay to be quiet.A place where it is acceptable to be different.A place where I can reveal who I really am.

My elsewhere is where I go when I need to escape.Leave behind the pressures of the real world.

My elsewhere is a security blanket.So is it real?

Probably not to you,but to me

it’s the best place in the world.

Lindsey Manferdini

Na Young (Kelly) Kim

Jingqiao Wang

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SunlightSunlightSunlightSunlightSunlight

Sunlight caresses the golden leavesInfuriating them into remembering their days are almost over

The tall pines poke at the skyDaring each other to reach higher

Grasses and ferns strewn across the forrest floorDance wildly in the wind

Dew sparkles in the soft moonlight that still shinesThe moon, not quite set behind the mountains

Prevents the sun from stretching its rays and awakening the day

Stephanie Black

Full of FluffFull of FluffFull of FluffFull of FluffFull of Fluff

There sat Amber,as happy as could be.

Her golden lockswere sleeping peacefully.

Nothing it seemedwould ever wake her up;

she was one tired,silly, little pup.

There sat Oreo,bored as a lima bean,pretending to sit thereand lick himself clean.All the while watching

as his little motor purred;planning an attack

on the dog that wouldn’t stir.

Amber was unawareof the havoc that was to come.

She just lay there and slumbered.Oreo listened to her hum.All of a sudden, PHWAM!

In her face he sailed,dug his claws into her ears;dug his teeth into her tail.

The fight didn’t last long.It was innocent enough.

He didn’t hurt her;she’s completely full of fluff.

Deana Ann Gursky

Na Young (Kelly) Kim

Na Young (Kelly) Kim

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AnaAnaAnaAnaAna

“Oh my God! My baby girl!”“What the hell is this?”

“Call 911, she’s not breathing!”This is how it ended. Just kidding. I tried, I didn’t succeed, but I tried. I don’t think that morning could have gotten

any worse. Literally. Let’s see, I ate pizza, worked out like a fiend because I ate pizza, and the next thing I knew I was in thehospital. My mom and dad were both bawling their eyes out. I guess I should introduce myself, I’m Ana. I’m an anorexic.

Wow, this is the first time I’ve ever written that. It sounds like I’m at an AA meeting. My heart stopped, in case you’re won-dering why I was in the hospital. I was working it too hard on not enough fuel. Stereotypical anorexic, I know. Oh, and I alsotried to overdose on Zantrex-3. I’m in therapy now, that’s why I’m writing this. It’s supposed to help. The doctors tell me I

need to gain at least 30 pounds. Holy ****! That would make me 100 pounds. Oh, God!It all started when…well, I actually can’t tell you when I switched from being normal to anorexic, because I don’t

exactly know. I think I started when I overheard my doctor telling my mom I needed to lose a bit of weight. Then, one day Iwas running my usual six miles, and the next day, I’m hunched over my bed breathing too hard. My brain and my body

weren’t connected. My brain said to stop, but my body said keep going.I’m not supposed to talk about calories, or exercise, but. . . my daily regimen wasn’t that bad. I ate 500 calories a day.

That’s almost normal. Besides trying to work everything off, I would fast, eat nothing for an entire two weeks at a time. I can’teven fathom how I got through those six months of losing. Everything, from my parents’ complaining to my friends’ whining

almost put me over the edge.I started noticing I had a problem when my first friend died. We were sitting in the hospital, and I was holding her

hand. All, of a sudden, her hand went limp. The doctor came in and pronounced her dead. She was like 4 pounds. She toldthe doctor that if our friend Tiff died, she would get help.

I started trying to eat normally when my mom told me I was losing too much weight. I was technically existing oncarrots, mustard, and black coffee. When my mom and dad made me eat, I said I couldn’t because I was “sick” or “asleep”.When they took me to the doctor, she consequently told me I needed to gain 10 pounds. I replied, “No, I don’t and I won’t.”

That was when I made my first trip to the hospital. It was dumb actually, the doctors there looked at me and said I didn’thave an eating disorder, that I just needed better eating habits. That’s when I got Pat. She’s a dietician. Not a very good one,

but one nonetheless. She told me I was fine. So, after one visit, I stopped seeing her.I started the cycle again. Five-hundred calories a day, fasting for a week every month. It worked for me. I lost weight

really quickly. I was down 30 pounds in two months. Ha! Take that NutriSystem commercial! I dropped that weight fasterthan you can drop a hat. Many people noticed. A fourty pound weight loss is not exactly something you can hide.

I don’t have much else to say. It’s not really rocket science, this disease. It’s really more of a simple thing. Well, onthe outside it seems like it. Okay, I just completely contradicted myself, but whatever. It’s very complex actually, in the

brain, I mean. I could go into the scientific explanation, but that would just bore you to death. Really, I had to read about,and it was not fun. Nevertheless, I hope you have learned more than I have.

Janell Barr

Dorita Deveney

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Marc Dominianni

Suspended MessagesSuspended MessagesSuspended MessagesSuspended MessagesSuspended Messages

A-mail – e-mail – z-mailText a message like a quail

Tiny fingers slippery when wetCareless with mom’s debt

Spinning forever like a mouse in a cageResponsive with ardor instead of rage

See you at the mallFind me I’m six feet tall

Your friends and I will have a ballA plethora of suspended words

Compressed within the cortex of nerdsWith the complexity of pizza dough

Pounded and thrown for the window showAn endless Friday night party

With a lexicon of gravy and cheese filling a cavity

Dr. Tom Falone

Ji Woo Won

The StaffThe StaffThe StaffThe StaffThe Staff

Class of 2008Class of 2008Class of 2008Class of 2008Class of 2008

-Jo-Han Wang-Jesieg (Jason) Kim

Class of 2009Class of 2009Class of 2009Class of 2009Class of 2009

-Christie Thompson-Min Jae Park-Emily Fritz-Ruoqi Zhou- Szu-Wei (Darren) Lin

Class of 2010Class of 2010Class of 2010Class of 2010Class of 2010

-Chung Si Lee-Edwin D. Stubbs-Natalie Mosser-Davis Rajtik

Class of 2011Class of 2011Class of 2011Class of 2011Class of 2011

-Adrian Theodor

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The EditorsThe EditorsThe EditorsThe EditorsThe EditorsFrom Left to RightFrom Left to RightFrom Left to RightFrom Left to RightFrom Left to Right

Writng Editor: Writng Editor: Writng Editor: Writng Editor: Writng Editor: Stephanie Black ‘10Writing Editor: Writing Editor: Writing Editor: Writing Editor: Writing Editor: Daniel Pittman ‘08

Layour Editor: Layour Editor: Layour Editor: Layour Editor: Layour Editor: Lauren Mayewski ‘08Senior Editor: Senior Editor: Senior Editor: Senior Editor: Senior Editor: Marc Dominianni ‘08Junior Editor: Junior Editor: Junior Editor: Junior Editor: Junior Editor: Taylor Manferdini ‘09Layout Editor: Layout Editor: Layout Editor: Layout Editor: Layout Editor: Brittany Slattery ‘10Layout Editor:Layout Editor:Layout Editor:Layout Editor:Layout Editor: Jessica Spiezle ‘09

Junior Editor: Junior Editor: Junior Editor: Junior Editor: Junior Editor: J.J. Minder ‘09

Not Pictured:Not Pictured:Not Pictured:Not Pictured:Not Pictured:Senior Editor: Senior Editor: Senior Editor: Senior Editor: Senior Editor: Andy Beasten ‘08Senior Editor: Senior Editor: Senior Editor: Senior Editor: Senior Editor: Deana Gursky ‘08

Junior Editor: Junior Editor: Junior Editor: Junior Editor: Junior Editor: Lucy Cox ‘09Photography Editor: Photography Editor: Photography Editor: Photography Editor: Photography Editor: Michael Pugliese ‘08

Art Editor: Art Editor: Art Editor: Art Editor: Art Editor: Na Young (Kelly) Kim ‘08Art Editor: Art Editor: Art Editor: Art Editor: Art Editor: Sarah Ebersole ‘09Art Editor: Art Editor: Art Editor: Art Editor: Art Editor: Kendra Gaul ‘08

Faculty Advisor: Faculty Advisor: Faculty Advisor: Faculty Advisor: Faculty Advisor: Mrs. Rachel Edwards

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