The Muse amhs student literary magazine
Erica Cardozo ‘21
06.02
muse \ ˈmyüz \ noun a source of inspiration; a state of deep thought or dreamy abstraction
Letter from the Editors 6 Bubble Julianne Glahn 7 Tsunami Freya Youssef 8 Beach Tanay Biradar 8 Flaming Fondness Zachary Prazer 9 Mello versus Wood Chris Nopwaskey 9 Isolation Sara Simoni 10 Ode to Not Wasting Your Time Caitlin Madia 11 Kelly Ly 11 Yellow Zoë Phoenix 12 Social Distancing Grace Hutton 12 Joyful Sadness Naomi Lahner 13 Amelia Herbert 14 the lover’s night Alyssa Forbes 15 when the decade ended Bailey Phoenix 16 in the praise of miscellaneous items Jassen Yep 17 Hands Jassen Yep 19 I want my funeral to be on a sunny day Nishita Belur 20 Alexandra Wong 20 Masked Nira Quintero 21 Christanel Rios 21 The Box Alyssa Onyeagwa 22 2, 8, 24. Kyle Woo 23 Above and Below SF Christopher Nopwaskey 24 No, I’m Not Lily Hyun 25 All That Remains James J. Huang 26 Christanel Rios 26 Infinite Dimensions Kristie Park 27 Godly Ambition Danielle Slaughter 29 Tanay Biradar 29 that Vivid Verde fuzz Alexandra Wong 30 Christa Rios 30 Earth Alison Madia 31 Slave to Myself Ava Scott 31 Divisible by Two Aleena Whitney 32 From Dusk to Dark Brendan Caradonna 32 Song of Myself James Huang 33 Canadian Rockies Akhilesh Balasingam 33 Mikayla Isabel Mariano 36 The following works are the intellectual property of Archbishop Mitty students. All ownership rights reserved.
TABLE OF CONTENTS Days of Daze Lily Hyun 37 Akhilesh Balasingam 37 Emily Nguyen 38 Christa Rios 38 Where did I park? Turner Thompson 39 nature meets man-made Christanel Rios 39 Random Ximena Melgoza 39 Our Crumbling Home Alexia Palio-Lacerda 40 Guardian Angel Naomi Lahner 41 you are the rainbow Annabelle Duflock 42 Room 510 Matthew Beymer 42 Tanay Biradar 43 Individuality Tanay Biradar 43 Trouble Tanay Biradar 43 Naya Lam 43 Christanel Rios 43 Alyssa Onyeagwa 43 Erica Cardozo 44 Zoë Phoenix 45 Pink Carnations Paula Lee Pascual 46 Heartbroken Lucia Marheineke 46 A Mother’s Love Alexia Palio-Lacerda 47 Alexandra Zanon 48 // Lauryn Maceil 48 Chloe Ella 48 // Denmark’s Temesgen 48 Pascale Zanon 48 Allen Matsyushkin 49 // Roisin Gilmore 49 Adarsh Krishnan 49 // Matthew Burrows 49 Roisin Gilmore 49 // Matteo Blandino 49 Naomi Lahner 49 // Sabrina Choy Velando 49 Deep in the Lion’s Eyes Christa Rios 50 Flower Garden Rania Awad 51 Christa Rios 52 Christa Rios 53 Purple Heaven Christa Rios 54 the blasphemy that is a crush in high school Emilie-Anne Roxas 55 Trullo Sara Sandri 57 Love cannot be measured Kelly Ly 58 Hate Kelly Ly 58 The Insidious Assassin Sanay Bordia 59 La Tierra De La Muerte Adarsh Krishnan 60 Cracks Mando Gonzalvez 61 Real to You James J. Huang 62 stay inside y’all Trent Lawson 63 While We Wait Arnav Mishra 64
Dear Reader... We are living in an uncertain and unprecedented time. We are living in a time of toilet paper hoarding, masks in grocery stores, hand sanitizer everywhere, and mandatory stay-at-home orders from the government. We are living in a scary time, to be sure. Days that were once spent at sports practices, debate tournaments, rehearsals, and hanging out with friends are now spent at home. We are living in a time where the unlimited currency is exactly that: time. Suddenly, we have been given time to create. For some, “creating” is trying a new recipe. For some, it’s a watercolor painting. For some, it’s a poem. For some, it’s simply sitting and thinking. Whatever form your creation comes in, it is beautiful. We hope that flipping through these pages offers you a glimmer of hope, reminds you that there is beauty in this break the world has taken. Perhaps it inspires you to pick up a pen or a paintbrush; perhaps it inspires you to read a book or go outside; perhaps it inspires you to feel at peace with where you reside. In short, we’ve been given an opportunity to emerge from this better than we started. An opportunity to reinvigorate passions that were lost to the hustle and bustle of daily life. Our hope is that this edition of The Muse is a solace, a time to sit and simply be while you appreciate the creations that have been born out of shelter in place. Let’s create. Let’s create art and music and poetry. Let’s create a world that is more peaceful, loving, and joyful. Let’s create.
Bubble Julianne Glahn ‘21 The sky was filled with gray Rain whispering on an empty street And minds were filled With the wants and cares And so the people watched In bubbles of worry, doubt, and fear But the clouds broke The sunshine came And people smiled
Tsunami Freya Youssef ‘23 It felt like a tsunami raging through my burdened mind, yet the worst was not the storm itself but the mess it left behind.
Beach Tanay Biradar ‘22
Flaming Fondness Zachary Prazer ‘21 She consistently can get you to smile With her radiant personality. I am consistently in delight while I'm in her fruitful hospitality. She is always so perfectly flawless No matter how she may appear or act. Her semblance is definitely priceless So gorgeous, it's hard to make eye contact. Her graceful eyes shine brighter than the sun And remind me of a warm, safe haven. Just a glance, and she will have my heart won And her presence will become my heaven. My love for her is like the immense fire that in my heart keeps on growing higher.
Mello versus Wood
Chris Nopwaskey 20’
Isolation Sara Simoni ‘22 Much disdain and gratitude I hold, For the ripple-less pond. Much comfort I find, In desires lying just beyond. ‘Tis not the silence I seek, Nor the croaking of frogs in the brush. I long to leap with the deer in the meadow, My disposition seldom in a rush. But oh, how the water caresses my roots, The warm consolidation. How I loathe the passing winds that remind me, Of the cruel confinement of isolation. The deer prance proudly in radiant masses, Surely they must know a higher truth? Or does the memory of a single indulgence, Surpass the sweetness of the fruit? I know not when the deer will quench thy thirst, Or if the amassing showers will consume. I gasp for air, the sweet, sweet air, Do reclusive roots ever bloom?
Ode to Not Wasting Your Time Caitlin Madia ‘23 My grandmother gets mad at me when I don’t My mother is irritated when I take hers My father has threatened to throw them away My sister is seriously annoyed Stripes and polka dots Yellow and orange Dolphins and dogs Buzzing bees and trees Never the same All in the same bin Fuzzy and soft Long and short They get stuck in the machine Thrown under a bed And always get lost Life is too short to sit and match your socks
Social Distancing Yellow
Grace Hutton ‘23
Zoë Phoenix ‘23 What do you think of when you imagine the color yellow? Bananas? Tall sunflowers? Slugs down in Santa Cruz? Uncooked pasta? Spongebob? Lemons? The sun? I think of happiness. Yellow is such a bright color that you can’t feel down when you see it. Yellow is the bubbly friend that stands out from the crowd and brings smiles to everyone’s faces. When I feel down, I search for something yellow as a balance for the negativity surrounding me. To be completely honest, I used to hate how bright yellow is. I saw it as obnoxious and trying to bring attention away from the other colors. Like the overzealous little sibling that constantly jumps in the air while pulling your hair. But really, yellow is bringing joy and light to the things that are dark and scary in the world.
Joyful Sadness Naomi Lahner ‘23
Amelia Herbert ‘20
the lover’s night. Alyssa Fortes ‘21 the moon dips its wings in the black abyss of night, calling upon each little star. the hypnotizing ocean below, a mirror of cutting crystalline, the night’s beauty reflected upon the Earth. two lovers rush to touch the diamond sky, meeting together at the water’s edge. the sky glitters before them, close enough to grasp. hand in hand, their delicate fingers glaze the murky mirror, sending ripples through the night’s untouched grace, the mere disturbance of a reflection. soon the water settles, and the ripple’s rings dissipate. the diamond sky returns unscathed within the ocean’s mirror, the lovers unable to reach the night. yet, their love gleams brighter than any moon, than any star, outshining the night they so desired to reach. effervescent lights beam across the heavenly sky, igniting each diamond star into a frenzy of miniature sparkles. the moon, a shadow. the lover’s light reflects across the water, illuminating its crystal hues once shrouded by darkness. the lovers leave their mark on the sky, their light intertwined with night, forever embedded within the stars.
One Rainy Day Sara Simoni ‘22
when the decade ended Bailey Phoenix ‘20 it ended with a crash but not just a crash an explosion the West was desperate, clawing at a chance to tear the sun out of the sky it wanted more and it didn’t want to lose so the West took tradition and threw it at us shattering glass and drawing blood knocking the color from our eyes but we were tired of the dark so we won bruised and bloodied we banished the West into the prison that held us it’s not over yet we’ve swept up the fragments and begun repairing but our new decade began with laughter that precious glimmer of hope and the West began in shackles of its own making
in praise of miscellaneous items Jassen Yep ‘20 People say miscellaneous - random; haphazard; jumbled a crude formation: a mishmash lacking definition, lacking substance. Items that don't fit in other categories - miscellaneous. A desk, see, is messy with various miscellaneous items. almost as if they were worthless, these miscellaneous items, almost to be thrown away, discarded, refused. almost. But I’m not so sure about that. My desk, see, is full of miscellaneous items. a mishmash. random. haphazard. jumbled, but each one holds a special meaning See, miscellaneous items, they have a certain power in them to evoke these miscellaneous memories of ours, see, they are kept to remind us of miscellaneous memories. Miscellaneous memories, they remind us of who we are. They make us who we are. The strongest memories one has are haphazard through one’s life, scattered, sparse, yet evocative. our mind is strewn with a miscellany of memories and not much else.
in fact, we, humankind, are so diverse, so varied that we should regard a group of us as a miscellany. a mishmash. random, haphazard, and jumbled. as in: “a miscellany of people shambled by me as I sat on the bus stop in the corner of the street and I smiled because they were beautiful.” as in: “we are a miscellany of people with miscellaneous memories yet we should love and cherish each one. memories and people” as in: The world is random and senseless but it throws each one of us together like miscellaneous objects, but like the objects on my desk each has a meaning somehow and that is why you are here.
Hands Jassen Yep ‘20 These two empty hands may be small, but they can reach up to cup the earth in its palms, And these empty hands may not be able to hold much, but they can reach out to touch the heart of another and set it on fire, and These hands, though they may not be able to reach out that far, they can reach down to lift up their fellow sisters and brothers, And these empty hands may not be strong enough to lift everyone, but they can reach forward and give the promise that they will try, And that promise will wash over those hands like water to an empty cup filled to the brim and overflowing.
I want my funeral to be on a sunny day Nishita Belur ‘21 I want my funeral to be on a sunny day So after the ceremony The people will wander out onto green grass And gaze up at the blazing sky Spread out their rough plaid blankets And lie down. With their heads in the shade And their bodies in the sun With warmth and light on their brown skin And a citrus breeze playing in their hair, They can close their eyes And watch the warm orangey spots flow lazily On the insides of their eyelids So I can know while I float on the wind That they have everything they need.
Alexandra Wong ‘22
Masked Nira Quintero ‘22 Masked She was always happy, said the smile on her face. Rarely ever snappy, Said the pictures at her place. Never acting badly Always seemed to drift off into space. Masked The scattered medals revealed how she was successful and unorganized, But it never really mattered For she was a devil in disguise, Pretending to be surprised Like a rebel you despised Said her younger brother’s expressions She was living entertainment, Said the slithering sound of laughter, trailing right after... She was a lonely girl, said the empty house, With nothing but the friendship of a mouse. Nothing in sight but the blood of her reopened scars on the pavement And her broken smile, wishing she could last another while.
Christanel Rios ‘21
The Box Alyssa Onyeagwa ‘23 Outside, the box, All eyes on you, the clock is running, umpire says you're due inside, You get in feeling, confident, facing the pitcher, she goes, you swing with all ya got, Just like Barry Bonds hitting a shot at the wall, you missed, It’s ok, You still stay in, the box, Two more tries, "batter up,” he calls, you're in, the box, she goes again, this time swinging with your buttocks, You feel like Jimmie Foxx one of the best players of his time, ya missed, again, you've got one more try, if you miss you're out of, the box, going in you can feel thousands of eyes on you, Insecurity is what goes through your head, you wish you were in your bed at this moment, But here you go, she goes, you swing with all your action, your outcome is just like Reggie Jackson's, That was your last chance, Looks like you're out, the Box...
2, 8, 24. Kyle Woo ‘22 “Everything negative — is all an opportunity for me to rise,” He went up 10 feet high to achieve the ultimate prize. “Dedication sees dreams come true,” He won 5 championships during the LA breakthrough. “The most important thing is to try and inspire people so they can be great,” He lifted, inspired, motivated, anything but hate. “You asked for my hustle. I gave you my heart,” Watching him on TV, live, or anywhere was like art. He is a legend and influencer of the game, Résumé like one for the Hall of Fame. Legends never die, they forever go on, His legacy is left with us and his family even though he’s gone.
Above and Below SF Christopher Nopwaskey ‘20
No, I’m Not Lily Hyun ‘22 Well no, I’m not artistically inclined But my words sound off if I ramble on without any true rhyme (Can you tell?) They flop then flow then sputter And I forget that one word I was looking for And— where was I going with this? I’m not sure if anyone would listen if my words fell with no satisfactory rhythm Do you like it better that way? This way? —Anyway, No, I’m not artistically inclined
All That Remains James Huang ‘22 Life drifts out like morning dew The drifting past leaves only few Legacies that shall remain A chance to fight does not refrain
Through life and strife and stories told, We only count the counts of bold, Now and next can’t stay the same None remains but gold and fame
We only have the chance today To etch our names and grasp toward fame To leave our only mark that lasts The leaves of gold of legends past Christanel Rios ‘21 Life drifts out like morning dew And when the church bells toll our name The passing stories leave but few Legacies that shall remain
Infinite Dimensions Kristie Park ‘20
Godly Ambition Danielle Slaughter ‘21 Admire Eris. Full of passion and fire. She shall ignite the heart of humanity, Leaving much for the mind’s desire. Discourse. Chaos. Welcome to the soul. She aches to appease the gods she serves. Praise Eris. Wish to have her resolution and power. She seeks havoc to quench her thirst. Live in awe of her mayhem fit justly for a King. Find Eros. Your light in the dark; A knight to serve you; A man who lives to appease. Affection. Adoration. The soul seeks. He yearns to devote himself to you. Cherish Eros. Adore the man who treasures your peace. He wishes to bring you tender compassion, So pursue his endearment made especially for you.
Tanay Biradar ‘22
that Vivid Verde fuzz Alexandra Wong ‘22 i was walking into my backyard maybe a couple days or weeks or months or years and i looked at the green fuzz growing on the carpet and It was growing not in the soil, not even in dirt not even a hint of life beside it and maybe moss grows in adversity it grew on rocks it grew on tree branches it grew on creatures like you and me but it also grew on the black carpet in my backyard and maybe moss grows where no one else should be it reaches new heights it climbs up and hooks its minuscule fingers into everything and maybe that’s what hope is to dream of greener pastures not covered in grass or weeds or flowers but in the softest, precious resilient moss
Christa Rios ‘21
Earth Alison Madia ‘23 The cars were driving near And the buildings were flying high, People were rushing to get home in their fear Because they just found out about the virus and said goodbye. I already knew all of this before anyone; I thought it would help me become more healthy, Sooner or later it had begun; I really became quite filthy. And I did not like it because I want to be pretty again. When I had flowers and a tree with a nice clear sky, I was happy, but I know it was horrible to do to all of the men and women, But they all soon realized that they had to be together even if they deny. Hello, I am Planet Earth and COVID-19 was my idea. It looks quite bad now But I am going to fix it because you all will fix me.
Slave to Myself Ava Scott ‘22 Our words are vague but their meaning is not It’s everywhere, sounding our lives and consuming our thoughts We can only lay victim to ourselves to our unattainable expectations and reality which do not guarantee, our fulfillment I am burdened with discontent There is no balance, no control Often times, I don't pick the end goal Is it wrong? To like being manipulated? There are no regrets when your life is dictated, to be everything but ordinary Hold your judgement. It’s unnecessary I’m a slave to myself I don't settle for anything less Simply can't, maybe won’t Despite my horrid distress I create my own wounds that will never heal Tell me how, How should I feel I have been living under this mask, But when can I be free at last?
From Dusk to Dark Divisible by Two Aleena Whitney ‘22 If I had a superpower I would be divisible by 2 And then there would be two of me And only one of you And if I were also invisible I could be everywhere I choose Here, there, and nowhere At the same time too If I had a superpower I would be able to bend your mind And then if you had evil ambitions I could make you so kind And if I were so bullet fast I could run around all day And help everyone on earth Live their lives a better way
Brendan Caradonna ‘23
Song of Myself James Huang ‘22 I breathe deeply and gaze down upon the summer street, Here I stand in a foreign building looking down upon a foreign scene A foreign hand, according to some, but a familiar heart regardless I wonder what separates us I am no longer an observer, but a pedestrian just the same. And that was all the way back in Boston, the port city, the oldest city of the newest world The city where the messy glory, the rebellious patriotism, the contradictions that make up America began I take a moment to exhale and smile — what a beautiful country to embody you and me Nowadays they tell me that I think too much, dream too boldly, act too quickly They tell me that I’m too foreign to be American, or too American to be foreign And the rain starts to pitter patter on my back, oh I almost begin to question whether I belong myself
Canadian Rockies Akhilesh Balasingam ‘21
But I was never one for that kind of small talk Give me the big talk, I’ll be the square pegs in your circular holes, proudly so! I gaze up at that ever expansive sky may I go so far as to reach all of its edges? Give me the big talk, and I’ll taste the dirt of failure if that’s what it takes to plant the thorny hope of victory Something they could never take away from me, never to be held down by any quota, shackle, or chain Give me action For I rise, determined, doggedly, dutifully so I move inside the sunroom to wait the storm out, beyond the storm clouds the sunshine streaks through once more How many times have I doubted that familiar warmth would return? How many times have I questioned the resilience of my nature and failed to believe that the yellow chuckle of the sun would come back to triumph another day? But determined as always, that familiar yellow warmth runs right back The amber yellow hues of that bright fiery ball touch every corner, move every corner, breathe every corner of my room The amber yellow rays greet the aloe vera, kiss the sleepy branches of bonsai fallen asleep and leafless in their slumber And then this old friend of mine comes and brings a special greeting to me, tugging me to venture outside once more So I step outside, reluctant yet excited, this time to a different and brighter world The birds sing their welcome, the cherry blossoms fluff their allergenic greetings Why? They remind me of how I belong, and how they belong to me the same Here you stand with me, and here I sing Here I sing the song of myself.
Listen to my song, and you will understand what pause can give a yellow boy such reason to feel so blue Through our untranslatable yawps, we laugh so deeply, love so truly, cry so freely, we communicate the untranslatable The incommunicable truth, lost in translation simply due to its sheer grandiosity Oh I’m sure someday some scientific ‘theory of everything’ will do its due And calculate just what it is that we’re trying to say But until then, let’s make do with a song, in all of its perfect imperfection Here I am the fire beneath the Earth, you are the air that I breathe, I am the molten earth and sturdy core beneath your feet, I am love, ambition, hope incarnate, the prickly thorn in the back of injustice With our song, we’ll end stereotypes with the stereo speaker I am yellow, beautifully and boldly so And you will let me in on your beautiful million hues, too Can you feel it? How those racist words carry no weight now? I brush by the birds of paradise, the crystal poppies, the tender blossoms of sakura to take up my place in the world Here you will hear the song of me If you listen closely, you will hear the song of all my universal brothers and sisters just the same, be they brown, white, black, or blue And I give you a part of me, You give me a part of you Together, we make something greater — 1 + 1 exceeding 2 It is tender today, but soon our stardust will turn to the stuff of dreams, and we will finally come to treasure these parts of each other, so lose yourself in the music and let me paint you with leaves of yellow love and shiny gold.
This time, I greet those sunny rays and mix them with the colors of the sleepy poppies, star jasmine, and morning dew Yellow touches more, and together we paint the world full of color Gold, the color of me — for I am the beautiful yellow symphony yet unsung, shaking the earth at each movement to come, breaking the ground at every crescendo and drawing the anticipation of God at every diminuendo I am the sanguine fire that fuels the sun The color of paradise and the setting rays on the tender grains of a Manchurian beach The one from my childhood, that kept a part of me just as much as I kept a part of it Yes, I proclaim once more over the rooftops of the world I am yellow and so much more Yours truly, I am flesh and I am bold I am eternally glittering gold.
Mikayla Isabel Mariano ‘21
Akhilesh Balasingam ‘21
Days of Daze Lily Hyun ‘22 the mindless chatter of the day has washed my former self away in days of daze, in days of daze; I waste away; And find myself Right here right now knowing not what more to say
Emily Nguyen ‘20
Christa Rios ‘21
Where did I park? Turner Thompson ‘21 Where did I park? I’ve roamed the streets for hours without finding it. My car. Oh my lovely car. Deliverance? The Truth? I’ll stop being poetic. It’s a GT Bentley 2008 model. Paul Pierce drives the same type of car. Paul Pierce, “The Truth”? Stop it. That’s not what this is about. I’m getting tired of walking. My strategy is that I take random turns in hopes that I eventually get there. Left. Walk 100m. Right. Walk 100m. So far it hasn’t worked. When Polonius said, “By indirections, find directions out,” I don’t think that this is what he meant. What a load of trouble he made that kid go through to determine whether his son was a frat boy. He was looking for the truth with a lowercase “t.” What am I looking for? My car. These suburbs amaze. I meant these suburbs are a maze. The more I go through them the more lost I get. They’re like poetry. Each house a poem. Some are very pretty. The ugly ones are the ones that help because those I remember. They point me to my car. Or not, evidently. There’s a street up ahead that’s named Primrose. Primrose Way. City planners have a sense of humor. I don’t. I just want to find my car. I’m going to keep walking. You might ask, “Is there really a car?” Yes. There’s definitely a car. I’m having trouble finding it, but it’s still there.
nature meets man-made Christanel Rios ‘21
Random Ximena Melgoza ‘23 This is a poem. I know it's random. I am just writing words. You may ask, Is this a poem? Yes Indeed. I just typed words.
Our Crumbling Home Alexia Palko-Lacerda ‘21 Climate change, on the rise Looking at Australia’s fires, no surprise. Moving, moving fast How long, how long will it last? People are perishing, koalas dying Damages of the wildfire are not lying. Millions of animals have lost their lives Damages of fire, no surprise. The smoke is coming, you will see It will catch up and engulf me. So run, run fast Who knows how long it will last. How long, how long can we deny? That climate change exists, it cannot lie. Be bold, be brave Speak, speak out, before Earth is your grave.
Guardian Angel Naomi Lahner ‘23
you are the rainbow Annabelle Duflock ‘20 some days it feels like the world is grey head down, oversized sweatshirt type grey mountains of work and piles of stress type grey failing a calc quiz and losing your student ID type grey these days are grey but grey days are funny because they usually only take one moment to lose color one missed alarm, one stepped-in puddle, one harsh teacher and the day is lost the funniest thing about grey days is they’re only grey when we let them stay that way because the world is full of colors we just sometimes ignore them
you wanna know something awesome? a drive to school with no red lights… that’s pastel green for sure your favorite lunch served in the caf… definitely blue, but a royal one a hug with your best friend… bright yellow. no question a really good laugh…hot pink finally understanding your math lesson… a calming lavender if you ask me doing homework at a coffee shop… i’d say that’s a burnt orange an entire day of being alive? breathing? living? that’s every color in the rainbow. the world is color and color is joy. grey days only stick around for as long as we let them. you are the sun, the moon, and the stars. you are the rainbow.
Room 510 Matthew Beymer ‘21
Tanay Biradar ‘22
Individuality Tanay Biradar ‘22 Please stop killing: curiosity, passion, dreams.
Naya Lam ‘21
Trouble Tanay Biradar ‘22 everybody seems obsessed with happiness i feel content with my problems. without them life would be boring.
Christanel Rios ‘21
Alyssa Onyeagwa ‘23 Quarantine: School. Phone. Family. Chores. Insanity.
Erica Cardozo ‘21
Zoë Phoenix ‘23
Pink Carnations Paula Lae Pascual ‘23
Lucia Marheinekie ‘23
Heart Broken
Permanently tan from Philippines’ sun, Short and small but tough; Hard working hands with veins of ton, With a path that was made to be rough. The Philippines’ heat with the view so serene. She works so hard for her widowed mother, At the age of sixteen Books and toys lost but isn’t a bother. The iconic angry cold shoulder That gets me cold on my feet, Your babbling lectures that make me strong as a boulder But also teach me to give up my seat. Two boys and one girl Which whom you say cure your frustrations, The three that you see as your blinding pearl And who you mother like pink carnations.
A Mother’s Love Alexia Palio-Lacerda ‘23 Mom, mom My heart is calm Your love stretches wide As long as a tide Kind, caring Everything worth sharing Neverending support Nothing let short Always there for me Always cares for me Through the ups and downs I will never, never drown Love As graceful as a dove
Alexandra Zanon ‘23
Jokes
What do you call fake spaghetti? An impasta
Lauryn Maciel ‘23 How does Moses make his coffee? Hebrews it!
Chloe Ella ‘23 How do oceans say “goodbye”? They wave.
Demaris Temesgen ‘23 Why couldn’t the bicycle go to work? He was two tired.
Pascale Zanon ‘23 What did one sister chromatid say to the other sister chromatid when her sister stepped on her toe? Owwwww! You stepped on mitosis!
Six-Word Stories
Allen Matyushkin ‘20 Up. Down. Just an endless cycle.
Roisin Gilmore ‘21 You are the reason I smile.
Adarsh Krishnan ‘23 Flying high, angered father, wings shattered.
Matthew Burrows ‘21 During chaos, staying connected is critical.
Roisin Gilmore ‘21 Did you mean what you said?
Matteo Blandino ‘23 Time traveler dies tragically: 1964 - 1514
Naomi Lahner ‘23 Welcome fair moon. Down precious sun.
Sabrina Choy Velando ‘20 Incoming The arrival that is really wonderful
Deep in the Lion’s Eyes Christa Rios ‘21
Flower Garden Rania Awad ‘23 Red, blue, pink. All the different colors and scents surrounding me. A break from reality. The fresh, crisp air enters my lungs. The birds chirp in the air, The frogs croak in the pond. Lily pads sit on top Trying to reach the warmth, But the sun is gone. Winter has arrived and the snow falls. Slowly the colors fade, The season has changed.
Christa Rios ‘21
Christa Rios ‘21
Purple Haven Christa Rios ‘21
the blasphemy that is a crush in high school Emilie-Anne Roxas ‘21 It’s absolutely pathetic is what it is. Really this ideology should have been stuffed in the recesses of the internet where no one could access it because the definition of a crush is annoyingly simple. Infatuation. Utterly heinous. Maybe it’s enough to pick a fight with the writer of whoever makes definitions because “brief” is also included in the semantics there, and a crush in high school is. Most. Definitely. Not. Brief. Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. A crush (n., sing.) does not last a day (though it could, classified under “eye candy”) or a week (which, incidentally, could be classified as “infatuation”) or a little over a month, but it lasts most likely the whole year because the person afflicted with this crush is probably under the impression that anything extending beyond friendship, if even that, is unattainable because all high schoolers in this day and age are all insecure to some degree. And, unlike middle school, friends are actually, like, supportive? Of this endeavor? Which is mildly surprising, in the sense that said friends would agree or disagree as to worthiness, general attractiveness, and whether or not said crush is psychotic, and then help draft texts and all that interaction. But then again, there’s that whole insecure thing that adds to the hypocrite thing where one supports their friends as well but hoo boy, is one supposed to also apply that same advice to themselves? God forbid. It is the most mundane and ridiculous thing that every one (1) high schooler has gone through and denied at some point too, probably to the aforementioned friends. But there’s something nostalgic and addicting to having a crush in high school, like a candy forgotten in childhood. Because although it’s odd, carrying this weight of (ugh) feelings around one (1) crush, it’s endearing. Their face is endearing. Their work ethic is endearing. Their smile is endearing. Their passion. Their clothes. The way they interact with other people. (Really, one can only focus on the physical aspects. One isn’t usually quite close enough to figure out the more personal aspects.) It’s cute (said a tad breathlessly, not offhandedly like one is admiring a t-shirt. This is a person one is speaking of.). BUT. NEVER FORGET IT’S ANNOYING AS HECK They randomly pop up in one’s head during homework regardless of the class and in the car and while talking to someone else? And maybe there’s a memory attached to it, but it’s usually just their name? Out of nowhere? Then a forehead slap is necessary but the skin-to skin contact will probably result in more stress pimples, but honestly one’s brain can be so weird at times.
And then there are the moments where one reconsiders why one likes this person, and then on cue, as if by magic, the person does something {adorable and one is reminded that oh. That is why. The mental huff and shrug do nothing because that moment is engraved in one’s head for days afterwards. (This might possibly happen in conjunction with the condition listed above. Depends on the vibe at the moment. And how stressed the person is.) Feelings have no specific start point, or end point, or helpful exit signs or flashy logos that say, “Enter Here to Gush/Rant About [Insert Name Here].” They just happen, unwanted and unbidden, creeping on the unsuspecting person. (Really, did Eros have nothing better to do than stalk a high school student?) But the concept of having a crush when one is supposed to be growing into a “mature young adult” is weird. If this is “catching feelings,” one would like the express pass to Get Out of This Gray Area Immediately. God forbid one acts on these feelings. It’s better staring at the back of their head during class. You think crushes are stupid? Relationships take *shudders* work.
Trullo Sara Sandri ‘20 “This is a recently finished sculpture which I carved out of balsa foam. It is meant to represent a "trullo,” a type of house which is typical of southern Italy especially in the Alberobello region.”
Love cannot be measured Kelly Ly ‘21 Love cannot be measured By the number of roses you give Nor by the number of songs you compose Nor by the number of poems you create But by the number of times you choose to stand by that person when you could have done otherwise. That is true love. A love that stands the test of time, A love that has no limits.
Hate Kelly Ly ‘21 Hate is a dark dungeon. Forever locking you in its high, thick, and impenetrable walls of sorrow and slavery. It does not heal your wounds, It widens them.
The Insidious Assassin Sanay Bordia ‘23 From one city out of many thousands it came People could not fathom how fast it spread At first not a single soul knew its name Till, in some time, the world started to dread Negligence, ignorance, and thoughtlessness Covid-19 took advantage of all this Causing distress and a global wide mess Shutdowns, closures, people want what they miss Economy down, money losses huge Gun sales shooting up, unemployment high People hope this is all a subterfuge Nothing the same and so many have died It came, it saw, it conquered our weakness Suffering of many, leaving them sleepless
La Tierra De La Muerte Adarsh Krishnan ‘23
Cracks Mando Gonzalvez ‘22
Real to You James J. Huang ‘22
stay inside y’all Trent Lawson ‘20
While We Wait Arnav Mishra ‘22
Moderator Kevin Brazelton Proofreader Janelle Kroenung Administrator Keith Mathews Editors Stella Park Hannah Cheng Tiffanie Huang Lauren Vu Annabelle Duflock Cailey Larmore Arnav Mishra Brady Koong Joanne Park Bailey Phoenix Deepan Shah Ishir Vaidyanath Jessica Hsu Matthew Burrows
Archbishop Mitty High School Literary Magazine
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Mission Statement The Muse: AMHS Student Literary Magazine is a collection of original, creative content produced by students of Archbishop Mitty. The purpose of this magazine is to support students' creative expression, to allow students to share their words and experiences in an imaginative way, and to establish a community of artists, writers, and thinkers. By creating an outlet for student voices, The Muse hopes to foster a culture of self-expression and interconnection throughout the entire student body.
Thanks for reading this issue of The Muse: AMHS Student Literary Magazine! Our creative ventures can have a profound impact on our understanding of the world around us. It is our sincere hope that the content within this issue has inspired you to think, write, dream. Please look forward to more issues. We hope to see you again as we publish more fantastic work of AMHS students. – The Editors
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