Largesse2015-2016

Bishop O’Connell HS

Contents:Maureen Kane Kammerer Scholarship Award Recipient 6 Alice Gordon Vorbach Scholarship Award Recipient 7Face of the Savior Geraldine D’Arcangelo 8He is an Eternal Being Jordan Harris 9The Witch of Blackbird... Lake Emily Fisk 10The Greatest Gift Claire Griffen 14Two Haiku Vanessa Zemke 15 Dolphin Sunset Susie Juarez 15True Love Jeremy Barto 16Genaility Daniel Herrerias 17The Tiger Julie Nguyen 18Rainbow Tiger Kelley Moriarty 19Does Love? Christian Bodge 20On The Keys Elizabeth Lofton 21Song of My Surf Martha Stevens 22Riddle Eleanor Vaughn 23Summer Darius Wintz 23Fence Mary Frances Vorbach 23Love Isabel David 24Invisible Priorities Isabell Baltimore 25Warhol Octopi Phillip Koch 25The Room Isabell Baltimore 26Darkness Rosemary Sloate 28Currents Vanessa Zemke 29When I Look Back Upon the Past John Svboda 30Two Illustrations Molly Weaver 30Chocolate Kobe Anderson 31Street Vanessa Zemke 32Unity Clifton Enlers 33Fallen Leaf Mary Frances Vorbach 34A Love as Tall as the Trees Campbell Hartgen 35[On Our Story] Dylan Seagrave 36The First Time Vanessa Zemke 37 Lost Hope Darius Wintz 38Three Years Martha Stevens 39Through Time I Have Lived Lily Saunders 40

Largesse2015-2016

Bishop O’Connell HS

1

Three Looks at Love Dowar Jioklow 41 Jack MacKinnon Matthew RoosmaHomesick Holly Eldridge 42City Lights Juan Pablo Debernardinis 42Wandering Love Jordan Hairston 43Recipie: Chocolate Cake Eleanor Vaughn 44Does Love? Christian Bodge 46Heart Full of Diamonds Juan Pablo Debernardinis 47Un Nuevo Comienzo (A New Start) Lorena Meruvia 48Moving On Lorena Meruvia 51Evermore Claire Griffen 51Passionate About the Water Caroline Vita 52Love Thomas O’Donnell 53First Flight Stephanie Salinas 53Through the Eyes of a Victim Anthony Williams 54Eyes Janee Burch 54Uncertainty Dylan Seagrave 55It Alejandro Di-Napoli 56Hourglass Skylar Chumley 57Summer Hilina Yonas 58Smiles Dinah Emmanuel 58Citris Janee Burch 58Carne Victoria Gordon 59I Shall Live Anthony Marquez 60Purple Flower Susie Juarez 61Portrait of the Artist as Four Objects Eden Hentschel 62Okapi Julie Nguyen 62 Jennifer Nguyen What is Love? Anna Hovis 63Winter Vanessa Zemke 64Sea We’d Victoria Gordon 64Born to Be Rosemary Sloate 65 Starry Night Andrea Nguyen 65Cornered Katie Boehm 66Within the Darkness Elizabeth Lofton 67The Artist’s Tools Molly Weaver 68One Megan Yang 692

My Life is Quite a Winding Road Katie Boehm 70Beneath the Surface of Old Massachusetts Isabell Baltimore 71Silently Watching it Waits Isabell Baltimore 72Hanging from a Fingertip Phil Koch 73The Perfect Match Vanessa Zemke 74That’s When it Hurts Holly Eldridge 75Chilled to the Bone Elizabeth Lofton 76Marilyn Monroe Molly Weaver 78Death is the Blackness that Follows Will Spann 79Two Hollow Lanes Dylan Seagrave 80Half Past Twelve, The Clock was Ticking Megan Yang 81Boat Caroline Mitchell 82I Think About It Occasionally LaDan Nemati 82Elven Heritage Jack Gradle 83Dragon Susie Juarez 84The Curvy Tree Sydney Couch 86Autumn Tree Susie Juarez 86A Masterpiece in its Own Right Alejandro DiNapoli 87They Elia Landeros 88Melting Moon Cora Wack 88Two Poems on Ice Nicole Berry 89 LaDan Nemati 89The Tyger Susie Juarez 90Man in the Shadows Shayne Richmond 91As They Lay Me Down Janee Burch 94Till the Clock Turns On Gianni Snidle 95Torches Cora Wack 96I Speak Janee Burch 97Face Mask Mary Kathryne Bothwell 97Ode to Motivation Ms. Ladas’ Creative 98 Writing Class There Is a Thing That’s Lingering Daniel Herrerias 100

Cover Artwork: Mai Thy Nguyen Back Cover: Andrea Nguyen

Additional Photos: Mrs. Patrice Connolly

3

Largesse2015-2016

Bishop O’Connell HS

Largesse2015-2016

Bishop O’Connell HS

Editor’s Note: For a little over half a century, students at Bishop O’Connell have been submit-ting their creative works and artworks to be published in a literary magazine known as Largesse. This year, we are pleased to announce the 2016 edition of the Largesse literary magazine! Through countless submissions of art and creative works alike, our O’Connell Knights have been able to put together this literary magazine to showcase all of our students’ creativity. With the slogan, “Illuminate the Knight,” we are proud to have this year’s edition do exactly that in which every submission illuminates each student’s talent and creative genius. I, as well as my editing team and our moderator, Mr. Meehan, am very gratified and charmed by the many works we have received and had the plea-sure of incorporating into this magazine. We hope you, as the readers, enjoy the many pieces published and delight in this year’s edition of Largesse!

The Editorial Team:

Moderator: Mr. John MeehanEditor-in-Chief: Vanessa Zemke

Managing Editors:Victoria Gordon

Mireya Lopez Laura McLellan

Dylan Seagrave

- Vanessa Zemke4

Creative Writing ScholarshipMaureen Kane Kammerer

The Maureen Kane KammererCreative Writing Endowed Scholarship has been established by the Kammerer family in honor of their mother, Maureen, who taught English at Bishop O’Con-nell from 1978-1985, and was the moderator of Largesse magazine during her tenure at DJO. Under Mrs. Kammerer’s stewardship, Largesse won an award from the Columbia Scholastic Press Association.

This annual scholarship is awarded to a rising senior, junior, or sophomore author of a creative writing piece judged to be the best entry of the academic year by the English Department faculty at Bishop O’Connell High School.

It is with tremendous pride that we honor Mrs. Maureen Kane Kammerer and her contributions to Bishop O’Connell, and with the same pride that we celebrate the creative talents and award-winning contribution of this year’s scholarship recipient:

The Alice Gordon VorbachStudio Arts Scholarship was established by Rear Admiral Joseph Vorbach, USCG (ret) and his children Frances Vorbach Babashak ‘82, Joseph E. Vorbach, III, ‘83, Emily Vorbach Gretz and Justin Vorbach ‘87 in memory of Alice Gordon Vorbach, beloved wife and mother who was a dedicated religious educator and talented artist. This scholarship is awarded to a student who excels in the visual arts.

We are pleased to announce this year’s reipient is

Student Name, Class of 20XX

Rickie Miller, Class of 2017

Alice Gordon Vorbach

5

Studio Arts Scholarship

His shoes dipping into mudof a city’s gleam,I shimmer under moonlight with the livelyjotting of this trumpet playerI shimmer amongst the flying, vibrant, magnetic wings of beauties with beardsI shimmer behind the tobacco lungs of a story untold I shimmer beside the tongues of two tender, tender, tender soulsI shimmer amidst the unfamiliar crying of the babe;Welcome, salutations, greetings, hello, bonjour,keeping crying for I know youExist.But what have I but mud on my shoes!Surrounded by the spotlights,glimpsing into my accumulating eyesI have never been told it is okay to cry in front of an audienceMy declaration lets my lips gently caress my teeming tears with a smileThe applause is internal, loud, gripping, mute, jarring, deliciousI bow, collapsing to a new perspective on the concreteBlood seeping through my rough skin,I must have a desire, a passion, a burning sensationhere and now

Mud collecting to my shoes, curiosity striking me putThe face of who reflects?Magnetic to the millions of greats surrounding, drowning me inA feeling unimaginable, yet in my yearning in my graspA mirrored parade of mud revealing not who I am butWhat I am a piece of.Her shoes dipping into the mud of a city’s gleam.

Luminescent Pieceby Victoria Gordon

6

Rickie Miller 7

Geraldine D’Arcangelo

8

He is an Eternal being-that everyone can't see

Though I run from Him day and night-And He holds all my peace.

He Is An Eternal Being Jordan Harris

one day- He will hold onto me like he took hold of You-

although you can not see me nowOur Love- is just as true.

on the day He takes me to YouI hope to feel warm light-

a Bright glow of eternal Life- and You holding me tight.

on that day He takes me to YouI fear it's cold and dark-

all there is- is Eternal Death-with a tomb “here lies” marked.

9artwork by Molly Weaver

“How much does she remember?”

“She..uh… she had a hard time remembering her name.”

His heart plummeted as he stood there not sure what to say next. “You can go see her Mr. Graham. She might be asleep. She needs as much rest as possible...” The doctor turned and walked down the hall.

Her eyes drifted open. She was in her bed. Wasn’t she? Where was her bed? In her home. What was her home? She woke with a start as panic gripped her. Where was she? She looked around at the bland walls and baby blue curtains. A hospital she decided. Why was she here? She started to cry as memories flooded in. The accident. But her memories seemed to stop there. Why couldn’t she remember anything else? As she looked around she noticed the bright flowers next to her bed interrupting the bland walls. Flowers for her? From whom? Now she really started to cry.

“What’s happening?” She started to feel dizzy and she lay back as the curtains parted.

“Sweetheart. Marie?” She felt a warm hand touch her arm. A famil-iar hand. A...home hand? It made no sense but the touch felt as if she were home. Whatever home was.

She opened her eyes and looked up where, staring at her with con-cern and love was...her mom.

“Mom?” She started to cry. “Mom!” Her mom’s arms surrounded her.

“Oh sweetheart!” her mom said as she tucked a strand of hair be-hind her ear. Blonde hair Marie noticed. She remembered that.

“What...what happened?” She asked trembling.

The Witch of Blackbird... Lakeby Emily Fisk

10

Her mom bit her lip. “You were in a...car accident-” she almost broke into tears. “We thought you...weren’t gonna make it but then…”she smiled, “you woke up” she said as she stroked her daughter’s face.

“Who’s...we? I don’t remember...” and she broke down crying. Her mom held her hand. At that moment her confused daughter no-ticed movement. A man stood in the part of the curtains. A tall man. A brown haired brown eyed man. A familiar man.

He looked happy and relieved and yet scared. As he noticed the girl in the hospital gown’s confused face, he face filled with sadness.

The girl turned to her mom. Confused.

“Honey...this is Derek. You know…” her mom struggled to explain.

He looked hopeful, the patient looked doubtful. “I’m really sor-ry...I-I don’t remember,” she said as more tears came to her eyes. His face fell. The room seemed to spin as if those words had turned it over.

“Derek honey why don’t you wait outside..?”He nodded slowly staring at her the whole time and walked through the curtains.

“Mom who was that?” She knew him. But she didn’t.

“Derek, honey, ... is” she paused, unsure. “Well he’s your...husband”

And this time the room really did spin.

Minutes turned into hours and hours into days. Yet she still could not remember Derek-her husband? Her mom had told her they had been married for two years, happily. Their wedding day had been June 18, his birthday was March 6, we met at college, we had an apartment, a cat... These were facts, she believed them but they still didn’t feel real.

11

Every day was the same in that hospital bed, as she recovered from her injuries and as the doctors continued to examine her: flowers, curtains, her mom trying to remind her of her, her life. Memories would come and go. People would be familiar and then distant. She felt alone, frustrated, and afraid that she would never remember. But everyday there never seemed to be Derek. She wanted to talk to him. She wanted to remember.

The curtains slid open. She could hear that. Unsteady footsteps stopped beside her bed. She heard the soft sound of glass touching her bedside table. The feet remained there and then turned around. She opened her eyes and saw brown hair up on top of a tall man.

“Wait,” she croaked.

The man stopped and turned around, surprised. The woman looked beside her. Flowers.

“Have you brought these in everyday?”

“Yes.”

That word. It was the only word he had said to her...since she had forgotten.

“Were they once my favorite?”

“You never had a favorite, any flowers that were bright and beau-tiful you loved,” he said smiling. That was how she felt looking at those flowers. She felt a flutter of hope.

“What else did I like? I want to see if I agree.”

He smiled a little and stepped closer.

“You loved chocolate cake but vanilla ice cream. You loved Chinese food but you always said only the American version, you’re favorite movie was Back to the Future III. You loved the scene with the oven plate. You’re favorite book was Witch of Blackbird Lake...”

“Pond,” she interrupted. He mirrored her look of surprise, and then 12

smiled. “Yeah that was it.”

“I know that one. With Kit in Salem, bland, strange, unfamiliar...and then Nate. He was my favorite,” she smiled.

“Yeah you read that about five times during our…” he stopped look-ing almost afraid to keep talking.

“Marriage,” the woman offered. There was silence as his smile dis-appeared.

Tears came to her eyes. Unwelcome tears.

“I’m sorry Derek. I’m sorry I don’t remember. I’m sorry”

“No, no, no it’s not your fault.” He said as he grabbed her hand. It felt so familiar.

“It’ll be ok.” She stopped crying and looked at him. Actually looked at him. A door...in a dream? Someone’s hand holding her hand, Derek’s hand, the other one holding her white dress. Derek behind the door. She was nervous. It’ll be ok.

“I should let you rest.” He turned slowly letting go of her hand.

“Wait.” She said abruptly. “I wouldn’t mind reading it a sixth time. You know Witch of Blackbird Pond.”

He nodded and started to leave. She closed her eyes and suddenly thought.

“Some tulips sound nice also.”

He laughed a little. “Of course. See you tomorrow Marie.”

Marie. He had said so many times before. The same way. She re-membered that. Dancing. Everyone watching. He was holding her as they slow danced. Derek and Marie.

It’ll be ok. She could remember. 13

14

The salty sea mists

Soar over longing currents

Waiting for sun’s gaze

Splashing through the airDolphins on the horizon

Joyfully jumpingVanessa ZemkeArtwork: Susie Juarez

15

What is the definition of true love? Is it willing the best for another?

Or does it feel like the fit of a glove?Could it be like the love of a mother?

Love can be all of these things, and much more. It can be as angry as the ocean, Similar to the waves crashing on the shore. But love is calm after the commotion.

Love is like the life of a small flower. It grows in blooms in different seasons As love can sometimes turn to be sour.

But love will improve for unique reasons.

Love has very many different forms, But true love is felt after the small storm.

lovetrue

Jeremy Barto16

As I walk down my daily path of flowers, I see the faces of others like me.

I invite those other souls to walk down the same path I tread on,

For they need as much as I need, they feel as much as I feel,

they breathe the same air I breathe.

And even if they don’t walk with me, I feel the same overwhelming ecstasy;

Because I found my own path, and I hope that the others find their own path to heavenly light.

I walk down a road surrounded by strangers,I walk down a road surrounded by my closest friends,

I walk down a road surrounded by experts of science and art,

But they are all the same to me:

Creations that rose from the same earth, with which we will all ultimately merge.

And the green that created me, has created you, has created the humblest king,

has created the noblest peasant,

Because the earth feels the same for all.

And now, as I dance down this burst of infinite color,I find others that will encounter the same glorious end

to their path,

no matter where it began.

Geniality

By: Daniel Herrerias

17

The Tiger

The carnivorous Tiger stalksWith its look of appeal-

Its vicinity addictive-Creating grim ordeals-

Then there is the luminous Dove,Singing its song of cheer-

With the Purest of white feathersAnd Sight of all that’s here-

The Dove is unable to seeAs the eve of Night falls-

A shuffling only heard, andThere was no song-at all.

Julia Nguyen

18

19Artwork: Kelley Moriarty

Is love even that close to romantic Or does it just stabbed a bleeding heart? Is love ever just that dramatic Or does it just pierce you like a dart?

Will love ever be seen at eyes first glance Or will it take an extremely long time? Will you and your partner prints and dance Or will you flow freely just like a rhyme?

Does love smell or have specific colors Or do you take swings but keep striking out?Does love feel like what you feel for brothers Or do you continue to sign and doubt?

Does love give pain or does it set you free?You will have to test it your self to see!

does love?

by Christian Bodge20

On The Keys

By: Elizabeth Lofton

When I played the pianoI drifted into a new dimension

I had someone to beA role to play

My heart would cripple and shut out the darkness for just a short while.

And for that short while, I felt aliveand I don’t know if that’s why I can’t

get myself to play again;

I’m so used to being dead inside that

I forgot what it feels like to be alive.

21

Song Of My SurfOh my sea, I sit and admire you,

Devotedly brooding, crashing, rolling,

Each wave carrying with it the strength of armies,

But the reverence of a song.

A song of children’s laughter echoes in the surf,

A song which beautifully consumes itself,

A song as simple as a breath,

You inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.

Extend your arms and surround me

as I step into your embrace.

As a mother welcomes her humble child home,

Refresh and revive me as you do so naturally,

Spin and twist your salty fingers about my soul.

Oh my sea, I am but a grain of sand

in your nourishing hands.

Martha Stevens

22

Riddle Eleanor Vaughn

I am Light as a spider’s web.I am the Only thing you need.

I am rarely Visible, but often felt.I last longer than Eternity.

SUMMERDarius Wintz

The days are longerWith the restless nights of fun

Long nights are still young

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answer: love

23

true love is willing the best of others

love is like a ray of bright, warm sunshine

love can be between lovers or brothers

love can’t be owned for it is yours and mine

love is a feeling meant to be expressed

love is a warm hug on a cold winter day

love is a morning sun after a long rest

love is flowers in the middle of May

love is not easy but can be obtained

love is not something for the faint hearted

it takes many long hours and much strain

you cannot buy true love at wal*mart

love is not something you can buy or sell

love can enchant those who open their shell.

love* isabel david

24

Successful, Rich Two words so powerfulFull of meaning, truths Known to few

Rich in love Successful in learningRich in experience Successful in teaching

People don't see this in these wordsSeen from these words arePeople of money People of power

DoctorsLawyersDentists Large businessmen

What about the othersCompletely cast aside in our minds Not given a single thought What about the

JanitorsPlumbersConstruction workers Cleaners z

By Isabell BaltimoreArt By: Phillip Koch

The low income people are invisible

They are seen to some as FailuresThey are cast aside from thoughtsThere is no respect

A society that claims to be united

A nation in which we are all OneThey yell equality to allBut it is not received

Looked down upon As disappointments

As trash Disrespected

A society in which They remain oblivious of the restmindless of the poor income people A society of ignorance

Ignorance

25

The RoomA single mirror in a small square room The walls are the same color encompassed with white Nothing else is in the room except for a ChildStanding in front of the mirror looking at herself

Staring back at the child is a small form Milk chocolate skin With dark brown eyes And curly hair

As she stares at herself her eyes begin to waterHer hands touch her face, and they begin to scratch at it Her nails digging into her flesh Trying to get rid of her color

If she scratches enough then maybe…Just maybe she will be able to be…White, just like the walls in her room If she is white then maybe she can have a future

Her skin sets her apart from the restHer skin a restraining force Forbidding her to conquer her dreams Depriving her of education

26

How has the world come to this?Setting apart humans by their skin tone Blocking one from succeeding Causing one to hate themselves

Provoking one to think that they aren’t good enough Affecting one to believeThat if , just if maybe they would scratch their skin offThen they would fit in Then maybe they would have a future

A child, with dreams , hopes, and aspirations Innocent...yet a child had to witness this Robbing them of their dreams Causing them to physically harm themselves because they didn’t fit in

No matter how much she tries to scratch her skin offIt will not turn her white Slowly she becomes aware of this Tears stream down her face

Her hands drop to her sidesHer head drops, her chin to her chestShe slowly exits the room Hopeless.

Isabell Baltimore

27

Darkness

Fire ends at Night asDarkness takes hold -- at Last

Seeing you Falling through spaces Destroys all I have Fast

Never again will I See light Soar through the vacant woodWhile people standing side by side Say all I Never could

And when the Light finally stopsIt takes a breath and Hears

All the Horror it has taken From all I had to Fear

-Rosemary Sloate

28

CurrentsI think of you and I think of the ocean The waves of memories come crashing into me Every moment our bare feet spent together in the sandSends another wave splashing against my heart And suddenly your face flickers like an old film dancing carelessly in my head I begin to drown in the saltwater tears of the last time I saw you Under a passionate sunset cast above the waves, fading away into something I knew all too wellEvery memory courses my body like the wicked current your ocean caused mine The last flicker of the old film shines on me Wondering where our tides ran off course and our winds turned away from the other My last thought before the film fades to black

When did you become the shore my ocean longed to kiss,no matter the times I was pulled back

Vanessa Zemke

29

Artwork By M

olly Weaver

When I Look Back Upon the Past When I look back upon the Past

I feel a deep Regret -Not for the moments that I lived

But what that Act begets –

We don the rosy Specs of yoreTo see this time the same

But they’re prescribed for different Selves -The Blurring causes pain.

Although it seems you might take LifeFrom where those memories stem -Those Moments had already died

Once you passed on from them.John Svobida

30

KOBE ANDERSON

Chocolate Chocolate is like a product

from heavenIt can be described

as many thingsTasty, toasty, tragic,

and timelessThe fumes run through your

body creating a thrillIt can be as dark as night

In the dark it leaves your sightChocolate is a cool

autumn’s daySomewhat like a brown leaf finally falling from the treesYou can compare anything

in this worldFor me, chocolate is sweet like

honey from a bee31

Street

Lying in the street

Staring at the stars above

Won’dring how you are

Vanessa Zemke

32

34Photo by Mary Frances Vorbach

A love as tall as the trees

Love is blinding, just like a bright white light Guiding those who are lost with no hope left It is hard to find it right at first sight Without love, some are left feeling be reft

Love is as brisk as a sweet autumn breeze It can be ruthless and cruel in some ways

yet it still stands just as tall as the trees The trees never full, even when they sway

True love just simply cannot be controlled Some will risk everything just for love But no, true love is never icy cold Shuts out the bad, and puts the good above

True love is found in the deeps of our hearts It has never left, been there from the start

- Campbell Hartgen

35

[On Our Story]

And it was within brick sanctuary where our shattered hope was mended like a spinning spider’s web

And the whispers echoed around our beating hearts

She was a flickering fire and we danced to the lulling melodies

And the warmth endured until the wind off the mountains tore through us But the threads lie inbetween

The reward for enduring the desperate drugged need to know

if she missed me back

Dylan Seagrave36

I remember the first time I met youFalling in love with you overwhelmed me

Leaving me to ask if you felt it tooMy heart was reeling, bounding with a glee

I remember how I could make you laughI realized right then that I was screwed

For I thought you could be my better halfOr so my heart had brought me to conclude

I remember when your lips first met mineEverything I had waited for was thereBut even the stars become unaligned

The fire we sparked was gone, without care

You were my first love and yet gone so fastBut I promise, certainly not the last

The First Time

Vanessa Zemke

37

Lost Hope

Who are you to tell Stories of the lostThe belligerent mind of the youthIn hindsight is all well in minds sight, lines crossedCould it be that they’ve just wanted the truth

It’s a long life, don’t want to walk aloneCorrupted by friends and neighbors aroundTo find it on your own, alone in the zoneBeing the one and only would compound

I could lose it all and still have you hereYou said I can’t love you right through my wrongI wish it could find ways to disappearBut the two wrongs don’t even make it right

You’re now dysfunctional, hearts been puncturedAnd you question, how was this love structured

Darius Wintz

38

For three Years straight Nothing but A’s -

AP’s, honors, and sports,

Perfect attendance and GPA.

I see my Time is short.

As I fight my endless battles,

I watch my friends excel.

A snake - within me starts to rattle

my chest is where it dwells.

The gentle venom is all I see,

I try to hold it back.

Jealousy will be my death,

All I see is what I lack.

Three YearsBy: Martha Stevens

39

Through time I have livedSeconds, minutes, hours - I have livedCautiously contemplating, ludicrously laughingIn this time, I have lived.

Through society I have livedPeople, places, problems - I have livedDreaded deep darkness -Longing for lightAlways, always, alwaysLiving.

Through you I have livedI have blossomed by your side -Together in this trying travel of lifeIntertwined since invention -Detached at deceaseNo matter through what -We have lived.

Through Time I have LivedLily Saunders

40

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. My

soul

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at lo

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- Mat

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41

HOLLY ELDRIDGE

HOMESICK FOR A PLACE I’VE NEVER BEENI’M STRANDED AND ALONEYOUR TOUCH LINGERING ON MY SKIN“PRAYING” TO CALL HOME

I CAN FEEL, MY SO-CALLED “SINS”THE ACHE CUTS TO MY BONEI HAD “FAITH” IN NOTHING BUT YOUR GRINNOW I SEE, I AM ALONE

I SEEM TO HAVE LOST MY RELIGIONMY FAITH HAS SINCE BEEN BLOWNI LONG TO BE, WHERE I’VE NEVER BEENI LONG TO FEEL, AT HOME

42

ARTWORK: JUAN PABLO DEBERNARDINIS

The power of darkness seeks through the night You see the love between the lovers eyes

There is a crack of a love scene at first sight The love cries up into the darkened skies

Love goes good or can be very bad Romeo and Juliet’s Love had craved

Don’t you let the joys of love make you sad Both of the lovers got the price they paid

It is the break of dawn when love shouts out Our love is just one part of creation

Love will burst up and grow like a plant sprout Love spreads to everyone in the nation

Love will be continued all through the years And hopefully it will reach all our peers

Wondering LoveJordan Hairston

43

Dear Peggy,Have I ever told you how lucky you are that your mother-in-law never comes to visit? Richard’s mother was going to come up here last week, and I was terrified. Now, you may not know this, but Richard’s mother has been winning baking competi-tions for 35 years. Like, we are talking undefeated champion of baking here. So naturally, Richard suggested that we (mean-ing me) should bake her a cake, since nobody ever bakes one for her. Well, he said this when he got home from work the day before she was supposed to arrive. And of course, we had to make it from scratch, because there’s no other way to bake a real cake. (Not that Richard would know how to bake a cake, but that’s a dif-ferent story.) Anyway, so it was about 5 o’clock and I had just been told that I needed to make the Mo-na Lisa of cakes from scratch, that night. I spent twenty minutes tearing through the house looking for Mom’s Devil’s Food recipe while Tommy trailed behind me, unsure of what was going on, but excited to help. Richard found it, tucked inside of the Cat in the Hat. After that, he took Tommy off to watch 1776, Tommy’s new favorite movie. He’s decided he wants to be John Adams when he grows up. (I would like to point out that showing Tommy 1776 was out of my control, because he saw it at Mom’s house. Dad was watching it again and Tommy walked in. Then Richard found out and they’ve been watching it almost every day.)I started on the cake. It went well for about five minutes, be-fore I realized that the recipe called for espresso, which we never have because it tastes like death. I ran out and got it and came home, only to find that Josie, our new cat, had climbed onto the counter and had settled herself rather comfortably in the bowl. I was putting together a new batter when I found out we were out of sugar. Another trip to the store. While I was there, I de-cided to check with Richard on all the ingredients so I didn’t have to go out again. The only problem is that, somehow, Richard has managed to never learn a thing about bak-ing. I love the man,

RECIPE: Chocolate Cake, By: Eleanor Vaughn

44

but sometimes, he’s completely helpless. It took twenty minutes to get him to read the whole recipe, and I had been yelling into my phone in the middle of the grocery store the entire time. I’m constantly amazed by the gaps in Richard’s knowledge. He can talk about Alexander Hamilton’s speech at the Constitution-al Convention for hours, but if you ask him what a whisk is, he doesn’t have any idea what you’re talking about. It wouldn’t be that ridiculous except for the fact that he grew up with a moth-er who was baking all the time. He knows what baklava tastes like, for crying out loud! But as soon as you ask about ingredi-ents or, heaven forbid, how to make the thing, his eyes glaze over and he gets this blank look on his face like he’s never considered that the food has to come from somewhere. I don’t think he’s ever fully accepted that having baked goods all the time means that somebody has to do a lot of baking.When I got home, Richard was complaining about the lack of dinner, but it was too late. I had to make this cake, and it had to be perfect. I don’t know how, but I got the stupid thing in the oven and threw dinner together. (Hot dogs, as a treat for Tom-my and to save myself the trouble of actually cooking.) Two hours later, I iced the cake, and it was a work of art. Angels started singing in my ear, and I swear I saw a halo surround-ing the whole thing. The next day, I was all ready to present the cake to Richard’s mother. The house was spotless, the laundry was done, and there, in the middle of it all, was the cake. It was the most beau-tiful thing I had ever seen. I had just settled in to admire my work when I got a phone call. Richard said that his dad had a fall the night before, nothing serious, but his mom wouldn’t be coming. All my work, down the drain. I almost threw the phone into the cake, but I couldn’t bear to destroy such a beautiful work of art. Instead, I settled for eating half of it while Tommy was at school.

Love, Eliza

P.S. it was a very good cake.

45

The nurse left work at seven, she held her bag closely to her body as she pushed against the metal bar to open the door. The cold winter air instantly slap against your cheek, and the snow-flakes kissed her skin. Liliana walks against the wind and cannot wait until she enters her lavender scented apartment. As she walked, she observeed her surroundings. Lilianna was not used to working until seven, and only did because she had to do some extra little tasks and stay after for the next couple days to make up for the day she took off to visit her sick uncle. She was shocked to see how empty, quiet, and lonely it is at this hour. Though it was just seven, it was very dark due to the fact they are in the middle of winter. She felt somewhat un-comfortable with dead silence and the light coming of the street lights. She walked on the barely illuminated path. The path had streetlights that radiated the sand colored cement sidewalk. To Lilianna, it seemed like she would drown in the dark-ness if you went even a tiny bit off the path. This area which she knew and grew to love felt like a foreign place but had a darkness which would involve anything and anyone that were to come in close contact with it. Soon, her apartment that used to seem near felt like a star that could not be reached. She felt and saw a light shining and it’s illumination growing on to everything. She turned her head and saw a navy blue car approach her. Everything happened so quickly, the doors of the car were pushed open and rushing out came to grown men. Before she could react, One of the bearded men grab her and place a rag over her freckled face. She kicked forcefully and flailed her arms and attempt to break free. Her long-lashed eyes fluttered open and she felt nauseous. Dizzy and confused, she didn’t know how much time had passed. She tried to let out a scream, but it pained her to make noise. The scream was muffled by a dirty stained piece of cloth over her mouth. Her hands and legs had a few zip ties around them to make sure she was immobilized. Crying, she rocked herself back-and-forth on the cold, tile floor, her hair sprawling ev-erywhere, gathering the dirt and dust of this room that seemed as if it were never cleaned. Spitting the dirty rag from her mouth, Lilianna found the smallest murmur of her voice.

“Hello?”

The Nightmare Begins... by Victoria Revollo

46

Juan Pablo Debernardinis47

Un Nuevo Comienzo, A New Start

by Lorena Meruvia“Tienes que saltar del tren ahora!” a stranger tells me. I finally reach Mexico and it was now time to jump off the train. I am terrified. Terrified of the jump - for fear of dying by having the wind pull me back and hit the train for not jumping far enough; but I am mostly terrified over the worst which is yet to come.

Many have told me that crossing the border would be by far the most dangerous part of the journey than traveling on top of a train through Central America. I was already on a dangerous journey because of the criminals who were too well known for murdering, raping, and trafficking the people who dared to cross the border. Now, the desert, weather, and immigration made it even more dangerous and harder to reach American soil.

Without even thinking, I jump off the train. I tumble and roll in the rocky ground for what feels like forever, and I miraculously end up completely unscathed. I see that many others have also jumped off and appear to luckily have only minor scratches. I ask a woman, “¿Ahora que hacemos? Where exactly are we and where do we need to go?” “Estamos cerca del borde de México, all we have to do is cross the desert,” she said. All I can feel right now is how dry my throat is due to the lack of water, how much my feet hurt from the blisters, and how much my skin burns due to the scorching sun’s rays. The rest of my body I can’t feel, because of exhaustion. This desert is so vast, there is no end in sight.

How did I even get here? Not too long ago, I was just an average 16 year old girl living an average life in a tiny pueblo in El Salvador; until bad things started happening. My country was plagued with pandillas, gangs, that constantly committed acts of violence. First, they came after and murdered my grandparents, the only family I had left besides my mother. I never thought much of this incident nor did I dwell or worry about it because I never imagined that their destiny could ever become my own or that of my mother. My life completely changed for the worse when a month ago, a member of a pandilla killed my mother. I have been trav-eling ever since, because I have no money and no future in my country. I 48

decided I would run the risk of being killed to be able to live in los Esta-dos Unidos. I have always heard that this place was supposed to be una maravilla, a wonder; where anyone, and I mean ANYONE, could turn themselves from no one to a someone.

Due to the lack of money, I can’t afford to pay un coyote to guide me on my journey through the desert and to los Estados Unidos, so I am all alone. Though I have no help, I manage to find a group of travelers and follow them. I have now been in the desert for six days. I think of and miss my mother everyday. The climate is harsh, the desert shows no mercy to its travelers.

During the day, the heat is unbearable. As soon as the sun sets, it turns extremely cold. I have nothing with me besides the clothes in my back; I don’t know how much longer I can last in these extreme temperatures. The good news is, I only need to travel a couple more miles until I reach U.S. soil.

That sixth night, all was well when suddenly, a man yelled, “¡Corran! Run! Immigration is here!” I immediately got up and I started running as fast as I could. I didn’t stop but I saw that one by one, immigration officers started catching other travelers like me. Luckily, I was running so fast that they never caught me. After hours of running, I stopped being able to have an idea or a sense of where I was, all the land looked the same. This was what another traveler warned me about; that I would get to the point where U.S. and Mexican land would all look the same, and that it would be hard to distinguish them apart. As I was searching for some sort of sign that would help me get to my destination, I saw a house! For me, that was a miracle sent by God. Without thinking I ran. As soon as I got near the home, I felt a pair of rough hands pulling me hard from behind. It was an immigration officer, and it was at that mo-ment I knew that I was in los Estados Unidos.

As I was being taken to a detention center, I saw several angry protesters outside carrying big signs. The signs had hateful speech written all over it like “We don’t want you here!”, “Go back to your country!”, and “All Mex-icans bring crime, drugs, and are rapists!” At that moment, I panicked. I regretted for ever having set my eyes on los Estados Unidos. Never in my life had I witnessed so much hate.

“The climate is harsh, the desert shows no mercy to its travelers.”

49

I have made such a long journey just to get to

where I am, only to go back to

where I started.

It has been seven weeks since I got caught. Today is an important day for me because today I go to Arizo-na’s County Courthouse, where my future will be determined. I am very hopeful that I will be allowed to stay in los Estados Unidos due to my background. I cannot wait to live the rest of my life here!

Estoy decepcionada, devastated. I was so sure that I would be granted amnesty by the U.S. Government. Despite all of my hopes and dreams, the judge ruled to have me deport-ed back to El Salvador. What will become of me? I have no relatives to return to, no one! I have made such a long journey just to get to where I am, only to go back to where I started.

Anger fills me up. Some country los Estados Unidos is. What a joke. This country was supposed to be diverse, open, and filled with opportunities. I have risked my life to get into this country! And I am given nothing in return.The only thing I have seen are restrictions, racism, and negativity here. Every Gringo I have met so far has made me feel like a bug under a microscope, stupid, and uneducated for not being able to understand the language and for the tan color of my skin. I have seen hundreds of kids like me at detention centers, many of whom have family in the U.S. while others don’t. Either way, many are destined to the same fate as me: deportation.

I cannot describe to you how desperate I am. ¡Dios mío! Now what am I to do?

50

I lay trying to gasp for air -No sound is heard from meMy heart beats very heavily

I long to be set free -

The darkness comes unexpected He’s my unwanted friend

That keeps me trapped in pitch darknessAnd keeps me feeling spent

My body feels chained to shacklesThe mind can’t be controlled

I feel like I’m dissipatingI’m feeling very Cold

But even in the darkest times,I see a speck of Light -

I can’t stop fighting this battleI’m moving on in life

A bright Light glowing - up aboveFramed up against AbyssI journey down to find - But seeMy tangled Heart’s distress

The shadow haunting EvermoreThe Horns resound - in wailsThe ever present Tapestry,Comes fro at beckoned Calls

But then I grasp - oh yet again -Inside my Heart can’t stillThe Orb which watches from afar -I find myself in Hell

For those who moan and gnash their teeth -Always protected Here;The Man whose home lies in the MidstOf all who simply care.

Moving On-Lorena Meruvia

Evermore-Claire Griffen

51

52

Passionate About the WaterCaroline Vita

“OUT OF THE WATER, I AM NOTHING.” That

quote is by Duke Kahanamoku, the man who popu-larized the ancient Hawaiian sport of surfing. Sometimes we don’t understand how important wa-ter is in our lives. But there are so many things we can’t do without water. People can not live with-out water. Water hydrates us and keeps our body in order. Without water we would only live for three days, but we can go without food for weeks. As I see it water has many different meanings. Water is a source of help. Without water my crew team can’t row. We need water to stay healthy and hydrated in the boat and to keep the boat moving forward to win our races. When we are cutting through the waves, it’s one of the best feelings in the world. Every summer I go to Sea Isle City, NJ. There I met some of my oldest friends. The water of the ocean is-- like great friendships-- everlasting. Water to me means friendship. We are always connected. It re-minds me of this quote by Sylvia Earle:“WITH EVERY DROP OF WATER YOU DRINK, EVERY BREATH YOU TAKE, YOU ARE CON-NECTED TO THE SEA. NO MATTER WHERE ON EARTH YOU LIVE.”Water to me also means love. I have a strong pull towards water. I love water. Ever since I was little, it has been my favorite thing to drink. I have al-ways loved to swim in a pool, boogie board or body surf in the ocean, I love the rain because I love how wherever I am water is there too. Water has a very strong connection to me because it’s where my grandmother grew up, my mother grew up, and it’s where I still grow up and hope to live one day -- al-

ways with the water.

Thomas O’Donnell

LoveLove is an endless waterfall of careLove is beautiful like a nice sunset

Me and you together make a great pairWill be together forever I bet

We go out of our way for those we loveLove is free love makes us do crazy thingsNo faith in love have faith in God above

Love is hard you never know what it brings

Love is powerful it can kill all hateWithout love, life would be a boring place

Love is not chosen it is part of fateLove, easy to let go of, hard to chase

Love can hurt you like a gun or a sharp knifeMaybe one day it will bring you a wife

Artwork: Stephanie Salinas53

As the blood of my family and friends flowed like a riverThe Strength in my heart began to quiver

I was looked down upon because of my race And was given scars across my face

I debated suicideBut realized there are plenty others by my side

And to let go by letting God be my guide

Although there are many whites looking for a fightI just sit back and let their anger take flight

As their anger boils over Their arms then take the controller

Beating me over and overMy head pulses like thunder

Every day I try to keep my composure Because if I don’t I’ll be sent away

And my family to foreclosureWhen it comes to race these people are bipolar

We work harder than most people But yet get paid like we still belong to people

It’s almost like the Nazis won the warBecause there was more division in store

As I write the prequel to this poem Whites write a sequel but don’t claim it stolen

And this makes a knot in my muscles like a semicolon

This creates a rage in me and a grudge against themBut something in my heart tells me I should forgive emTh

roug

h th

e E

yes

of a

Vic

tim

An

th

on

y W

illi

am

s

Artwork by Janée Burch

54

UncertaintyDylan Seagrave

Sometimes I’d like to say I know you

Ignore the tranquilizing echo of uncertaintythat ticks around my trembling heart

You whisper reassurance

Granular lines of beckoning

My waking breaths laced with waves of icy unknowing

They crawl through my veins,absorbing the stimulation that careens with the carcinogens

Do you want to know me at all?

55

itIt lives inside, searching for warmthLurking, slithering, hiding - a presence to many yet a stranger to AllAlone in the shadows, it fears for its life,Searching, Searching, Searching, desperately seeking a way out -A way towards redemption, a path towards the Light.

Casted out from society, It lives alone in the depths of the woods,Consumed by the unapologetic howls - howls of beasts filling the emptiness of the abyss,

Yet in the darkest moment - It shines a light.It ignites a fire, one that burns bright,Refusing to be silenced, It sheds its coat,Peeling away its obstacles, in the form of a hollow shell, one that is now left behind,For It has been reborn.

No longer a beast, but a man amongst ManAn equal amongst others, an equal who showed that It can,No longer a slave to its own manifestation,But rather the destroyer of its shackles, along with all its limitations,Unchained.

It musters its strength and now unleashes its cry,The tale of a journey from darkness to light,For It is One of freedom -Freedom and pride.

alejandro di napoli56

57

Art

wor

k by

Sky

lar C

hum

lee

Dinah Emmanuel

SmilesSmiles are like rainbows

Always there but hard to musterTry to smile all the time

It never fades away You may see proof

In a baby’s googoo gaga And a grandpa’s ha ha ha

Smiles make everyone holly and jollySmiles should sunny sensations, so

Smile, laugh, grin, giggle

Hilina YonasHilltop MemoriesThe summer was a sweaty surprise.

The ground was like hot lava Our muddy sneakers hit the ground

like a hard base drum.We walked, we swam, we lived, we journeyed to the hilltops.

The tree swished and the ground trembled. The bees buzzed and the wolves woofed.

We sat and ate our popsicles, still watching the sunset.Our hands were rust, and our clothes

were filled with dust.

58

Janee Burch

SPICES CLAWING AT YOUR SIDE

STEALING MEAT IN YOUR SLUMBERCHOPPED, COOKED, STEAMED, MINCED AND SPLICEDYOU ARE PRAISED BY MANY AND SILENCED BY FEW

JUICES SEEPING COARSE, RED CENTEREDPLAY MEDIUM RARE WITH MESINCE YOU ARE NOTHING BUT THISA BLEEDING PIECE OF MEATALWAYS RISKING A JARRING ILLNESS, NO DOUBT

KISS ME WITH A STARVING FIXATIONLET ME GET STUCKIN BETWEEN YOUR PETIT BONES

TWIST ME WITH A CURSED TONGUEI REMEMBER BEING.SLICE UNTIL I CAN BREATHE AGAIN

CARNEVICTORIA GORDON

59

I shall live,I shall live as a worker, as a lover, as a king, as an artistI shall live with no fearwith no shadow always behind my back, with no pain, with no sufferingfor the towering woman holds a beacon of hope a beacon of redemption, a beacon of opportunity at my feet, a beacon that invites me in,I shall live by her side,by the woman that guides me, by the one who teaches me,she watches over me, standing above the rest,she lights the way with her beauty, sitting upon her throne of rock,perched high above the roaring waters,with her ravishing dress draping down,she is a queen among men, with a crown made from the sun,shimmering, shimmering, shimmering, for all to see.

- Anthony Marquez60

61Artwork by Susie Juarez

Portrait of the Artist as Four ObjectsEden Hentschel

ShelvesHard, wooden, sturdy and strong

Holding the things that like to belongMusty and old, those ones are the best

They stand out and above all the restEach one an adventure to somewhere quit new

Each one is waiting for someone like you

BatonsIt’s time now, get ready about to beginBreathe out your nerves, your courage breathe inSwift and quick, just barely too fast Eyes on the master forget all that’s pastYou’re here in the moment the music and gloryYou, the narrator of a wonderful story

SunglassesWindows to the world, to the wonder and might

Shielding your eyes if it gets just too brightGives courage and confidence, support and delight

Solace and comfort to assure it’s alrightDown the road when you’re ready, strong and brave

You’ll take them off and venture unafraid

Sails Catching a gust or a breeze or a blowSpeeding off to the horizon, away you goFar past the known or the simple or safeOut to the world and a far off placeLight on your face, wind in your hairExcitement and adventure is somewhere out there

Artw

ork: Julie and Jennifer N

guyen

62

Love should be treasured with all of your heart It only comes around once in a while

You should hope that you and your love don’t part He should be the main thing that makes you smile

You would do anything for each other And when you see him your heart skips a beat You can’t stop thinking about your lover You even get butterflies in your feet

I have not ever experienced love I really do not know what to expect

Will it feel like I’m being pushed and shoved? Or when I’m in love will it feel correct?

I hope I can find love one of these days And I will hope that it’s not just a phase

Anna Hovis

What isLOVE?_

63

Winter By: Vanessa Zemke

Wind whips across my cheek

I feel the shivering snow crush beneath my feet

Northern lights shining in the distance

Twinkling in every other instance

Every breath I take makes me cringe with the cold

Remembering winter, or so I’ve been told

Swaying around your unstable heartbeatI want to wrap myself throughout your light

But I grow from the dirt under your feetMy surrounding waters, you tap and smiteMy eyes become briny when you are neared

You have poured a feeling into my rootsThis infatuation has become smearedSo fixated that we were in cahoots

We were separable and grew like weedsDangerously tangled like a fishnet

Astonished I was to see you secedeOblivious to the sun of your threat

Seaweed flows in a uniform waySee we’d become each other’s own caché

See We’dBy: Victoria Gordon

64

She sat still in the forest, in the place she called her own. She sat writing, writing, writing, of all that the light

touched. There is good in the light, as her mother had

taught her. There was good in the light, she learns as she reaches

towards the source. And the good in the light led her, leaping, bounding,

soaring through the day, so fast she passes all that ever held her back.

She passed the sorrow and the worry and the doubt that used to be.

So why are you unable to do the same? Why are you unable to find your own light? Why are you unable to leap, to bound, to soar past the sadness that weighs your heart? Anyone can, for we were born to be brave. We were born to be strong and raised to stand tall. We were made to be proud and we are supposed to speak our mind, To speak for all to hear is a dangerous feat;

But to back down in the face or danger is an even greater crime to bear.

Born To BeBy: Rosemary Sloate

Artwork: Andrea Nguyen65

You, in the corner all alone;You, with your head hidden in your arms;

You, with that defeated, artificial half-smile;You, constantly worrying, worrying,

worrying about the cowardly slurs they utter;And you, a person, just like them.

So they say you are different,And point and make fun;They simply do not know

the talents you hold,The gifts you have to give,

Or the roads you have travelled.

You are the light of your own life,And no one can dim you;

The world does not yet know the treasures of your soul,

But, believe me, they are there;And you are responsible for revealing them.

Cornered

Katie Boehm

66

Within the DarknessElizabeth Lofton

My correspondence with the darkness is often.The moment we speak, the moment we touch,

Everything goes blank when we’re togetherSometimes it gets to be too much

Like a cocooned butterfly I long to be freedOut into the never ending abyss

yet the darkness I still needBecause its cloak of comfort still I will miss

But even if I truly wanted, I’d never be releasedWe need each other like the night craves the day

And without one another my anxiety begins to increaseIt keeps me calm and collected to my dismay

Because as much as I loathe youYou’re the one I feel best turning to

67

Molly Weaver68

ONEO, the adolescents! The youth of America! The future, the present,We unite together yet can also stand as one.

A plethora of wallflowers sit in silence,Reading, whispering, dreaming about literary lives just worlds away,They think they are unseen, But O, adolescents! Poor, lonely group of the lost,We stand as one.

The huddle of athletes gather ‘round the field,Running, throwing, catching breaths to keep their pace, Prayers muttered in their heads, and visions of offers, to come,Are all but unfamiliar.But O, adolescents! May victory be yours,We stand as one.

An ocean of the youngest file into the crowded halls,The weight of the world on their backs, they waddle,Tired, frightened, worried of those who walk amongst them,But O, adolescents! Fresh-faced children,We stand as one.

Each of us together,Our individualities becoming one,One whole wave of teenagers,Our importance is abundant,Our futures flourished now,We adolescents stand together,And together stand as one. Megan Yang

69

My Life is quite a Winding RoadBy: Katie Boehm

My Life is quite a Winding road— With ups and downs alikeAnd No One—understands the Pain It brings with every Strike

I ask myself, why am I here? The answer—I don’t knowBut One Thing helps me See the light— I learned this long ago

The Sustenance—of all my dreams When common sense has failedNo rhyme or reason to its Strength— But still it has prevailed

A silent Force that’s always there And keeps me holding on—It shines through in the darkest hour To sing—its pleasant Song.

70

Beneath the surface of old Massachusetts

Isabell Baltimore

I have been here long My waters stream with storiesTales that would make one cry

Tales that would make sick Tales that would make one happy

I have seen it all Witnessed the horrors of humanity

Witnessed the unjust of humanityWitnessed the Sorrows of humanity

Witnessed the creations of humanity

Deep underneath my waters In my soil

all is soaked up The stories, the realities

Stored in my roots

Never shall I forget the things I have wit-nessed

Deep in my waters all secrets shall remain Wishing I could tell Humanity the mistakes

Before they repeat their ancestors storyHeart throbbing

Knowing I can not tell them the remainsFor they would not understand

Once again I flow along Waiting for another story to take place

Adding one after another to the same chest

Deep in the chest of the forgotten town Only me knowing what to come

because tale after tale are the same Deep in the roots of the old Massachusetts

The Secrets will always remain 71

Silently WatchingIt waits

Isabelle baltimore

Silently Watching- It waitsForbearing like a stoneits Eyes- take in most EverythingPlucking from every bone

As life moves- TirelesslySame routine- everydayUltimately waiting- to endThe continuous- gray.

Noiselessly-it spreads its black wingsSwooping down-it appearsChoosing its prey, it Lightly LandsThe dark shadow- It fears

The room encompassed with- a ChillFrost begins-enclosingSilence as he draws his-Last breathSlowly, and then-Nothing.

72

Artwork: Phil Koch

73

The Perfect Match

Attraction looms over a simple wooden stickWith the potential to be as Passionate as a star-crossed love

A Burning desire from within Sparks a new beginning

Like a gun being shot for the first time, a fire Ignites between two Undeniable forces

Burning Brighter and Hotter than any two forces before

Deep and Desperate Desires take control of their heartsLike Dopamines in a frenzyAnd soon, the Fire sparked

Dwindles down the stick to its last breath

Flickering, the forces take their last inhalation of the Fleeting Love sparked by a Flame

And as the fire takes its last stand, the forces partNever to be ignited with the same intense Blaze as before

How Ironic that a love filled with complete Fiery Passion was too much for a Match

Vanessa Zemke

74

Missing you never gets any easier, The pain doesn’t get any duller,The sinking feeling, like i just punched in the stomachdoesn’t get any softer

i just get used to it i guess

The hardest part,Isn’t remembering, the good times And reminiscing about the memories we sharedThe hardest part, Is remembering that it’s all over, and no matterhow long i wait you’re not ever, going to be there

But that doesn’t stop, my mind from playing cruel jokes, tricks, games

Things keep happening, and i always find myselfwaiting until i see you,wishing i could tell you about it It’s easy to forget, that you’re never coming back.

I miss you alot more than i realized.

When i reach for my phone, i forget for a second-that there isn’t going to be a message from you, Telling me you miss me, Or calling me punk,Not anymoreAnd that’s, when it hurts

When i read things about, college kids coming home, on breaki forget, for a second That you’re not just away at college

And that you’re not ever, coming homeThat’s, when it hurts

It’s the times that i’m walking down, the streets That run by your house, a route that i never dreamed I would ever, be taking by myself That’s when it hurts

It’s not standing at your GRAVESIDE that bring me any pain.It’s hearing your voice, on that final, message you sentIt’s holding your sweatshirt closeDesperately, deluding, myself into thinking-that it’s almost the sameas before, we lost you Tricking myself into thinking i can still catch your lingering scent

Searching, searching, searching for something, anything to hold onto, that will make me feel close, to you-again

I miss you more than i realized.

It’s the flicking through my playlistScrolling screen after screen, and hearing, your favorite songIt’s remembering, your wide goofy smileWhen you spotted me, in the hallsThat’s when it hurts

I miss you, so much more than i realized. But it is, getting easierThe pain, is getting dullerThe memories don’t begin to fadeThere’s no more stabbing pain, when standing at your graveI’m still honoring the final promise, we madeI still miss you, more than i realizedBut I’ll see you again someday

that

’s wh

en it

hurts

by

holly

eldr

idge

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Chilled to the Bone Freezing air pierces my lungs as I run as fast as my legs can take me through the thick winter forest. The setting sun is barely able to penetrate the many layers of brush and trees and I suddenly realize that I am no longer sure of where I am; I no longer recognize the once familiar lightly patted-path of snow I left behind. The reason for my running has disappeared from my thoughts, I just knew I had to get out of there, away from them. I find myself feeling suffocated a lot of the time but out in the woods, I can breathe. Basking in the quiet air I find serenity in it, already dreading the anticipation of returning back home. Home; the same four letters, the same routine, the same cycle of incompleteness. Something is missing, something has to be out there but I don’t even know how to begin to try and find it. I need some sort of sign telling me where to go, where to start, or if there even is anything worth looking for. As the bright moon now dances through the trees, I realize how late it’s getting and that I need to try and find a way back. Taking a few steps in the direction I think is76

correct, I hear a rustle in the bushes right in front of me. Startled I freeze, hoping not to be mauled by some sort of wild beast. But emerging from a low thicket, a tiny young bear cub crawls out and sits right in front of my feet. He was covered in black fur and couldn’t weigh more than five pounds. For some reason something inside of me told me to pick it up; nothing that small can be that vicious. Immediately the cub buries its soft fur and nose into my chest, nuzzling in the crook of my arm. He’s shivering and seems frightened, clearly separated from his mother. Like me, this cub is lost. Not wanting to abandon this small angelic bundle, I decide to bring it back knowing it would not survive in the night on its own. Tomorrow, I’ll call ani-mal control. Tonight, I will take the cub home with me and keep him warm to give him a chance to live. As I looked down into his dark, vulnerable eyes, I let my feet carry me back. I was no longer worried about finding my way as I snuggled the furry bundle closer, trying to keep him warm. Suddenly, I see a light ahead, the kitchen light that my moth-er always left on. I smiled down at my furry friend, knowing that we both were going to be just fine. Elizabeth Lofton

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Artwork: Susie Juarez78

Death is the Blackness That Follows

Death is the Blackness that follows-That Shade behind our step-No man can evade dark’s light Touch-Impossible to prep-

Even on those days drenched in sunWhen bright light blankets all-Behind each and every thing- DuskThat small spot of nightfall-

Ultimately your time ceases-When Shade covers your SightAnd Death finally takes your breathA never ending Night.

Will Spann

79

Two Hollow LanesDylan Seagrave

Teammate, not friendCertainly not best friend, no longer

But the recollections, the vibes, the depths leaking into the skyLie beneath the shattered surface of our cherished ways.

Small talk, walking, two cars parkedTwo lanes turning left, to a hushed night boulevard

A partnered cruise, the tunes blaring in the space betweenBut he turns off my silent highway

Utterly alone.Halted by the light

Its crimson rays bleeding through the rain-speckled frameMy heart was the open road, a vacant void

Flushed dry of the waters of filial bondThey say i’m doing my own thing now

In the grey box I hear the echo“But why should my path be so empty?”

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1. Half past twelve, the Clock was ticking The time was drawing near And standing by the door was He Who held my hands so dear

We left my Home in silent peace – A calmness in the air – We waltzed into the grand hotel When all began to blur

Faces of the many singing Had taken to a gawk And then at once His eyes locked mine Before my vision stopped

A chill had scurried down my spine For all I saw was Black My body freezing over felt As if I’m walking glass

Once more He took my hands in His –We danced until sun down –And then I laid to Rest alasJust six feet under ground.

Megan Yang

81

LaDan NematiI Think About It Occasionally

I think about it occasionallyThe Darkness it holdsThe end it guarantees

The escape It promises for me-

Silent footsteps, a knocking at my doorI refuse to open, I must stay hidden from more

My smiles are fake, my heart is cold-I decide to give in, there is nothing else to lose

82Artwork: Caroline Mitchell

An Elven HeritageJack Gradle

The nurse left at seven, but he knew that he had to get better, and fast. His right arm was still afire with pain. A plasma arrow through the bicep could take an eternity to heal for even the toughest of men, yet he was thankful to be one of the few who had managed to survive childbirth. His mother had been an elf, yet she was less fortunate on his birthday. Many people suspect that he is the last of his kind because of the order which out-lawed crossbreeding between spiritual and nonspiritual beings. Due to this, his father had to leave him, visiting when he could. “When was the last time I saw my father?” Trank thought to himself, but at that moment, he heard a familiar voice calling his name with an intense panic. “Trank!?! Trank!?! Has anyone seen him?”“Levi, here, in the tent,” Trank called from inside.Levi had been Trank’s best friend for as long as he could remem-ber. They joined the war as soon as they could, and fortune had it that they were put in the same platoon.“Are you alright?” asked Levi. “I saw your name on the list of the wounded.”“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just a flesh wound,” Trank replied.“Well yeah, with you and your healing abilities you will be good in no time.”“I hope so, although it appears as if my luck has finally run out.”

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“Probably a victim of one of those Norse dragon units,” said Levi. “The western units have broken through the Derontias stronghold, however defenses have been stronger than anticipated. There have been many casualties.”Just then a field officer ran in and shouted, “We need this place cleared out, all non-major victims please relocate to another medical tent or return to your barracks.”“Come on,” said Levi, “you can bunk with me tonight.”They headed out towards Levi’s barracks, passing platoons of melee elves, artillery goblins, and heavy armor dwarves. Trank carried all his personal items in his backpack, but carried his electric blade that was a gift from his father under his good arm. They passed several other platoons of varying creatures, even one of fairies, as they ventured a solid hour’s walk behind lines. Trank woke up the next morning to the sound of sizzling ba-con, and got himself up with ease. He was in shock, his arm was completely healed, with nothing but scar tissue to provide of the wound he received yesterday.“I think that the order’s most valuable soldier deserved a good

They could still hear the rumble

of the cannons, and roar of the dragons in the

distance. Just then a group of people ran by, carrying a screaming man on a stretcher.

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Art: Susie Juarez

breakfast,” said Levi. He was shocked to see Trank. “I knew you were strong with magic, but not that strong. We need to go see an elven priestess, right now.”“Can we at least eat breakfast,” replied Trank, more focused on his stomach than the urgency of the issue.So they sat down, ate breakfast, and then ran out. They searched throughout the camp for an elven monastery, to no avail. They finally went to the base headquarters and asked a Lieutenant where the elven monastery was located. “It is about 10 miles south of here, over a spring hill,” he replied.Levi and Trank set out on the hike, and reached the monastery by sunset. They were greeted by a huge meal, and gratefully ate, having decided to skip out on lunch in order to get there by nightfall. They met with the High Priestess, who took them to the inner chamber and showed them the historical elvish books.“They have every elven family, even yours,” she said to Trank.As they flipped through the pages of the book they realized that his mother came from an especially powerful line of spellcasters and healers, and his mom was the most powerful one yet.For some, this day was the end, but for Trank and Levi, this was only the beginning. Things were never the same after that night.

85

The Curvy TreeSydney Couch

In a forest full of treesThat stood identical and tall

There was a different treeWho was tormented by all. His twigs were tangled

And twisted and turned,And as he got older,

He eventually learned.He didn’t like how he looked,And he didn’t feel at home.

He didn’t have friends or family;He was all alone.

As the years passed byAnd the other trees got cut down,

The curvy tree got olderAnd wiser somehow.

So when he saw a young girlWith the same dilemma as his,

He said to himself,“I know what my purpose is.”

The tree comforted the girlAnd gave her his advice.

He said, “being different is a gift,And not everyone is nice.”

The girl was calmedBy the curvy tree’s words.

They confided in each otherAnd a lifelong friendship emerged.

The girl visited the tree Every afternoon from then on.

Sometimes, they would laugh and talk Until the sun came up at dawn.

They gave each other company, And with this, they found their home.

Because together, they found their family.Together, they were no longer alone.

In a forest full of treesThat stood identical and tall

There was a different tree, a different girl,Who smiled, because they didn’t care at all.

86artwork by Molly Weaver

A masterpiece in its own right Yet a deceiving lie,A culmination of science Yet only for the Blind -

Can one really “See” through Its eyes? Or is it just a wall -A wall of penetrating light, Keeping us up at night?

I See the beams, shimmering bright Slowly, taking one’s life -Ignore the tremors that It sends Firing into the night-

A Masterpiece in its Own Right

-Alejandro Di Napoli

87

TheyElias Landeros

They live in a dark mysterious place To get there it’s like going on a rollercoaster

But once you enter spaceThe lights surround you

Bang, Crack!Beams of light are coming at you

You make a crash landing They see you and you see them too

You get out of your shipTo find them around youThey all stare so silently

The aliens finally invited you in

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artw

ork by C

ora W

ack

Excitement.The music calls your name as you tie your laces20 best friends rise for your team circleThe last few moments before your blades hit the iceThe door opens, beckoning you onto the ice like a friend calling your nameYou exit the locker room, heart pounding. THUMP THUMPYou look to your coaches as they nod and pat you on the back

You’re ready

They announce your team.You feel the ice skim your blade and in the background you hear5, 6, 7, 8, set

We are ready

The program begins

two poems on ice

nicole berryTogether we can accomplish, we can achieve

I skate with a team, I skate with my sisters, arms connected side by side Full hearts and clear eyes, skating with the largest ambitions

Skating with the goal of winningSkating with the hope of achieving our goals.

There is something in the way I skateSomething that is unable to be recreated, reproduced

Something that is indescribable to anyone of a different beginningSkating with a team is what I do, skating with my sisters is what I love

The passions and ambitions will guide me through my life

ladan nemati89

“Tyger! Tyger! burning bright In the forests of the night,

What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry?”

-William Blake (1794)

90

Susie Juarez

Man In The Shadows The nurse left work at 7:00 p.m. She looked behind her building in the abyss of blackness known as Central Park. She frantically searched for keys in her dull, pink purse. Her hand nervously smacked against tick-tacks, her I.D., and a cluster of used tissues before she felt the cold metal of keys. Grasping the keys, she pulled them out of her purse and looked for the correct key to lock the door. When she found the small blue key, she inserted it into the door and locked it. With an exasperated sigh, she turned from the door, whispering to herself, “Why would the doc give me this stupid and creepy job of being the last person to lock up the place? Why should a woman be left with such a job?” Within minutes of her mumbling, a loud crash came from one block to her left. Stepping back from being alarmed and tripping on an even pavement, the nurse fell to her butt. Thinking someone made her fall, the nurse reached for her pepper spray only to find a cat jumping out of the shad-ows. “Stupid cat”, she muttered, “you almost made me have a heart attack. Run along now!” She tried to calm herself down from being frightened from the sound and the fall. The nurse stood up, dusted herself off, and resumed her routine walk to the subway. Still feeling nervous about the sound she heard, her eyes moved back and forth, her palms continued to perspire, and her breathing quickened. To keep her mind off her fear of walking through Central Park in the dark, she began counting the lamp posts as she always did for comfort. “One...two...three...four…” she mumbled as she walked along. However, on the fifth post, she noticed a shadow in the trees that was different from a normal shadow casted by the lamp post. The shadow seemed to be moving from tree to tree, avoiding every speckle of light. It was getting closer, but in a zigzag pattern. As the nurse started to walk a little faster, the shadow stopped moving closer. Thinking she was imaging the movement of the shadow, the nurse returned to

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to her normal pace of walking. However, the shadow started moving closer again. Frightened, the nurse turned her walk into a light jog. The shadow stopped again, but this time, the nurse didn’t return to walking. With her adrenaline running high, the nurse went from a light job into a full sprint. She ran so fast that when she turned the corner on the park’s path, her hair flew in her eyes, blocking her view, causing her to run squarely into a lamp post. Stars swirled in her vision as she staggered around trying to catch her bal-ance and steady her blurred vision. Hearing the shadowy figure coming closer, the nurse continued to run, but due to her dizziness, she ran in a manner as though as she were half-asleep. Her feet felt heavy, the air in her lungs felt thick like molasses, her purse like a boulder on her shoulder, and her heart felt like it was beating a bass drum against her chest. Despite her physical dysfunctional state, she continued on. THe shadow was now within a few yards and closing in on her. She finally saw the end of the park. She heard the familiar hum of cars, voices of people, and the occasional honking of horns. She burst out of the darkness of the park into the full hustle and bustle of the lit city. Still dazed from hitting her head, she struggled to the subway stairs. Her legs finally buckled out from under her and she went hurtling down the stairs of the subway. At the bottom of the stairs, she fought to stay conscious and got back on her feet, thinking some-one was still trying to catch her. The nurse ran towards the pay stall, swiped her subway card, and hopped onto the train. Arriving at the next station, the nurse, appearing battered and decided to get off of the train. She looked around to see if she was still being followed and noticed as she was getting out of the subway that she was in Chinatown. She walked to the street and as she began to flag a taxi, a figure began to move behind her. The nurse yelled at the figure, “Alright! Enough of the games, what do you want from me?!” The figure moved out of the darkness and stood in front of her. He was a scrawny man, about 5’10” with curly hair, freckles, and glasses. He was one of the medical technicians from the hospital. “You forgot your phone”, he said92

By: Shayne Richmond

timidly to the nurse with a nervous look on his face. He further added, “I’m sorry I scared you. By finding and giving you back your phone, I thought it would be a good way to introduce myself and hopefully ask you on a date...but I kept chickening out and hiding behind the trees.” At first, the nurse smiled, and then she got nervous again when she remembered how creeped out she had been which slowly turned into anger. “Why would you scare me like that?” She asked, “I thought you were a robber...or something worse! I’m all beat up and sore.” She paused before continuing, “No, I would not like to go out with you.” She grabbed her phone, turned on her heel, and began walking in the direction away from him. She felt sorry for him and stopped in her tracks. She sighed and turned back around to face him, ‘Alright fine. I’ll give you another chance, but if you ever do anything like that again, it’s over.” His face beamed as he walked with her to a nearby diner. One date led to another and for the woman who got stuck locking up the building to the man who lurked in the shadows, their lives were never the same again.

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As They lay me Down – down to sleep,

The darkness Crowds – my eyesThey see no death – just life and hope –

Just Look beyond the skies,

Tears fertilize the Hopeless – soilDug up by death himself –

Life’s away – the sounds of kids play,He – heard my cry for help –

The songs of – hope – sung loud and clearBut washed away by days,

The footsteps of their careful feet –Under – where all hope lays,

Close your eyes – listen very close,His – work is almost DONE –

If all hope is what You have got,He knows that you’re – the one.

Janee Burch94

till t

he c

lock

tur

ns o

nThe thoughts in your head,

constantly bothering bugging bumping around your mind,you ask them to LEAVE, they leave;

you ask them to scurry along, but you’re scared, you’re scared of your mind;

you beg them not to come back, you feel them come sliding up your spine

slowly towards the silences of your mind.pacing, Pacing, PACING, around the room.

They begin to come closer and closer to the tip of your mind

ceaselessly mocking you, jeering at you, HURTING you. you ask them to stop, they don’t;

you ask them to LEAVE, They won’t;but you won’t have it,

you won’t take it, you won’t let them in.

You fight and fight and fight. Till the street lights come on, till the clock turns on,

till the brightness of the earth lights up the street, till the glare on the window blinding your eyesight,

you won’t have there way.Looking at the veins in the small leaf,

that is lowering slowly towards your feet and lands, where it loiters and stares into the depths of your soul;

the tiny details of waves match your heartbeat, feeling the ruffed ends and the pain stops;

the thoughts in your head are no more.

gianni snidle95

Cora Wack

96

The mind is an institution of beauty,The thoughts that society tell all to suppress, are

the ones that need to roam free.I speak for the women up late at night worrying, if she will ever be okay,I speak for the child who sits in the room in which he learns, while his mind darts in ablur,I speak for the man whose peaks of happiness towering as high as the mountaintops,but who’s lows are as ex-tensive as the sea,I speak for the adolescent who doesn’t see the comeliness in her stretch marks,I speak forthe ones who can’t, but internally, have so much to proclaim, I speak for myself who work, work, works, and won’t cease until perfection is reached.

Those that subdue the minds of those who contrast them,Will never understand the significance of the individual;The liveliness of his mind,The strength in her weakness.

The misunderstood do not need to be explained.

Janee Burch97

An Ode To Motivation Of all the things I’ve lost, I miss you the most With limbs of lead, I struggle to reach youI feel your absence like a ghostHaunting me in all I doAll I’m left with is your memoryOf all the things I’ve heard, your voice is mostdivineSometimes I hear it stillFrom other mouths, reminding me of what was mine,Before you left, left me wondering why you’d killThe thing that made us what I loved.

Of all the things that have left meYour departure was the final blowAfter you, everything else began to fleeThe meaning of life lost did not showEverything around me twirled in grayThrown into the world’s grieving hurricaneYou’re painting purples and blues on my skinThis canvas only brings me painA gleaming articulation of what has beenThe release from your gratifying contentment.

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Of all the things I’ve had to find, you have been the hardestI close my eyes and dream, struggling to reach you.How can I find you when I feel as if I’ve already done my best?I fight my own thoughts to grasp hold of thisinspiration, even if I only a little bitI breathe deep, holding a sigh, a whisper “where are you?”In the depth of my despair I feel remnants of your lightYou haunt my dreams like a nightmareAlways just beyond my sightAs my vision fades you move farther and farther away.

Of all the things dragging me downYour chilling touch comforted meWhen color faded into disconnecting soundI followed a sensation blindly in my bodyKeep me moving toward the heavens.Of all the things tugging at my heartstringsYou desirous love overwhelmed my veinsMaking your fleeting passion being the only thing love bringsTaking hold of my reinsYou pull me up with one soft sweet breath.

Ms. Ladas, Isabell Baltimore, Victoria Gordon, Eleanor Vaughn, and Vanessa Zemke

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There Is a Thing That’s Lingering

Daniel Herrerias

There is a thing that’s lingeringIn my mind - and in Yours-This throbbing pain is EnvyIt cries, it screams, it roars.

I find myself - You find yourself -Appluading when they fall.It lies within - all savages -

It lies within Us all.

How can I trust myself in lifeIf I want their decline?

Am I not worthy of today?Is this just all - a Sign -?

I’ve seen enough deceit in them, -I’ve seen it in me too. -

The soul is deep, and dark, and cold,not just a fair sky blue.

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