George C. Marshall High School 7731 Leesburg Pike Falls Church, Virginia 22043 (703)-714-5400
EXECUTIVE BOARD FACULTY ADVISER PRESIDENT EDITOR-IN-CHIEF MANAGING EDITOR SUBMISSIONS CHAIR WEB ADMIN FUNDRAISING CHAIR PHOTO EDITOR COPY EDITOR
samanthaNIMS margaretSCHUMANN jasmineOO tiffanyCHONG suprajaCHITTARI lilyZAMANALI andriannaAYIOTIS boMATSUDA pernilleSLETBJERG
STAFF sarahATAYEVA francescoBASTI hemaniCHOKSI alexanderDITTMAN helenaDUKOVICH lucyEPSHTEYN
amberHOLDER claireMILLER alexanderNGUYEN paoloSANTAMARIA matthewSMAGIN spencerTOLLO
SPECIAL THANKS Mr. danielREINISH
abbyBERK annmarieBRINZA janJUNLOY manjariKUMARAPPAN morganMALONEY alaynaMCCORMACK emilyNAM talleyMURPHY annaPAK virginiaPRICE jodieRYU alyssaSANTOS
TO THE
READER
Since its re-emergence three years ago, Reveille has grown significantly both as a club and a publication. The staff was astonished by how much recognition the publication has recieved this year with over 260 submissions. We were also pleased that our efforts to revive the literary aspect of the club by hosting writing workshops every week were successful. These workshops were taught by students whose
writing was published in last year’s magazine, and their unique voices inspired us to continue seeking out more young writers. I’m proud of what our club has become. After years of facing new challenges, we finally found our flux —our flow. Best of luck to next year’s staff, Jasmine Oo
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POETRY &PROSE Forsaken Jason Tinio...........................................................................................05 Takeover David Sheperd................................................................................06 Swimming in the Sky Katrina Uher.....................................................07 It Better Be Worth It Nina Rines..............................................................09 Ode to Sea Urchins Yekaterina Gilbo....................................................11 Morrow Breaks Alexander Nguyen.......................................................14 Serene Spencer Tollo...............................................................................................15 To Want To Know and Know I Can’t Jessica Campbell.....17 Look At Me Claire Miller.................................................................................18 I Already Know Danielle Oh.......................................................................20 Goodbyes Negeen Behdad...............................................................................24 Rubber and Socks Shalini Rana..................................................................25 Ode to Maladies Alexander Nguyen...................................................27 A Red Lory of Yekaterina Gilbo................................................................28 A Kid Like Him Paolo Santamaria.........................................................30 Theodosian Decrees Alexander Dittman.............................................34 A Leather Chair Lani Allen...........................................................................36 The Art of Staring Into Vacancy Pernille Sletbjerg..................38 A Pantoum of Crucifixion Katya Gilbo................................................41 Whistle of the Wind Jason Tinio..............................................................42 Longing for My Honey Pie Shalini Rana..........................................43 Television Man Negeen Behdad...............................................................44
ART laniALLEN.................................................................16 francescoBASTI..................................Cover,9,24 abigailBERK..............................................................42 alisaCHIRACHATURAPHAK..................28 jeongmunCHOI.......................................................29 andrewCRIDER.......................................................07 helenaDUKOVICH.......................................14 rachelFRANKEL.....................................................21 mackenzieHAIGHT..............................................08 gillianLEE.....................................................................37 hannahMAHACH................................................19 bridgetMANOWN.....................................14,32
boMATSUDA.........................................................39 chloeMOLINOS....................................................26 yasaman NOTASHHAGHGAT..............................04,40 annaPAK................................................Disclaimer sunhongPARK.........................................................20 alexandraSANDLIN.........................................33 margaretSCHUMANN...........................10,38 pariSHETH.........................................................22,45 rathnearyTHEM...................................................43 bradyTHOMAS....................................................44 tomikoTOMASHIRO........................................06 03
04
yasamanNOTASHHAGHIGHAT
I hate you For For For For
cutting me open pulling me out molding me up breaking mae down.
Now at the sound of your name I break. Now the sound of your voice Makes me want to – to tear my half beating heart Out of my chest. I flew up to meet you But I guess I didn’t fly high enough. You clipped my wings And I fell down Fast Faster The world became a blur The world twisted and turned. I met the earth With a cold body Crashing Into a sea of my tears. The wounds that you caused me Have yet to heal. But I – I – I – don’t hate you. I remember how it crept up on me When I first saw your face And I heard The Cherubim sing And the world stopped.
I lie at the bottom of the sea Thinking about The times we laughed The times we sang The times we danced. Remembering The smile of your face The touch of your skin The feeling of your hand in mine How I felt the way we held each other Not caring about the world around us. And I realized that I hate the emptiness Because you aren’t here to fill it. I hate the chills of my body Because you aren’t here to provide warmth. I hate the sound of your voice Because I have forgotten the chorus it brings. I hate feeling like my heart has been torn out Because I know you won’t help me put it back. How could I hate you? When all you have done Is hold me together?
05
tomikoTAMASHIRO
I see their golden helmets, bright orange armor in the sun. Their weapons pounding day by day, destroying one by one. It fills my ears, it clouds my eyes, it chokes my mouth and lungs. Breaking, building, taking over, their kingdom once was mine. For the sake of halting ignorance, they took away my bliss. The grass that bent beneath my feet, they turned to muddy dross. They destroyed my bedroom walls, took my floor, my home, my wealth. They blocked the door I entered through, and cannot stop the pain. They say what is mine isn’t good enough, and they can make it better. They say that all we have to do is hand the money over. Their buildings tower over me, I can’t evade their watchful gaze. They say this world will be improved, but never know just when. But I know it’s not their fault. They just do what they’re paid for. They do not know the pain they cause to those who they invade. I believe the world will be improved, when all is said and done. I sacrifice for those I love, but will not see their joy. For I’ll be far away. 06
Swimming in the Sky katrinaUHER
A Flock of birds A massive whale Swaying in the tide Twisting about in the wind A flock of birds a whale Swaying Twisting In the oceanic sky
07
andrewCRIDER
08
macenzieHAIGHT
It Better e Worth It ninaRINES Biology, English, and HOA classes Have all decided to give homework in masses. With all this reading, I will soon need glasses I only wish I was done with my CASes. Oh, IB, what have you done to me? I cannot remember the last time I climbed a tree! My youth has been locked away with your key Along with my social life and liberty. As I fight tooth and nail for an A, You add more obstacles such as TOK. As if that’s not enough, you lead success astray, Your rubric spits and crumbles up my essay (Not to mention my GPA). I dream one day to make a change, Find happiness in the winds’ and trees’ exchange, To find a cure to Global Warming’s rage, As soon as I break out of IB’s stressful cage.
09
francescoBASTI
margaretSCHUMANN
10
ODE TO SEA URCHINS yekaterinaGILBO
Little sea urchin with spiny soft arms waving to invisible ocean music of your homeland your soft dance of tube arms carries beauty into this world. I wish. I could. Just love you. and keep you and watch your dance dance of sea anemones pulsing hearts intertwined the tendrils of a crowd united the wave of grass stalks under starry skies Little sea urchin with spiny soft arms. Your pulsing vascular systemis nowdriedup. but your children live on & are little stars within Petri plates the union of urchins, humans, nature, oceans I will love your babies so they can grow to have spiny soft arms someday in the ocean you’ve never seen but always have known to which you’ve returned by now Little sea urchin, you’ve showed me life and for that I will never forget you. And I will think of your kind waving spiny soft arms to invisible music in oceans above and below...
11
12
bridgetMANOWN
13
Morrow BREAKS
alexanderNGUYEN
helenaDUKOVICH
White and Black infuse For Gray As towering steel spires Pierce the Sun With morning mist and mountain Air Buzzing electron-wasps hover In the jungle canopy Where shade and river are all in One And insects crawl their silly Dance Under mellow, modest skies The forest falls with the hill Creatures stalk below Cavalcades of hard, cold metal, death, fear, Conflict Churned this very dusty path One-hundred-fifty-one years ago.
14
jennaWITT
15
spencerTOLLO
Serenity is peaceful, It can calm, and sooth, and mend Placate, heal give time to feel But it is boring to the end.
Serene(Silent reaction)
laniALLEN
16
To Want to Know and Know I Can’t jessicaCAMPBELL I’d rather be a bird of passion in the sky, untethered by woes and worries known on earth, unknowing, soaring, fearless, safely free. A beast above knows not how far he has to fall. The specks below him squirm and wriggle; he does not – he knows not why. A gust of wind unblocked by careful’s call propels. No scolds, no voices taunt a thing with none to lose, of vibrant colors – youth of freedom, sweet. If I could only be those children, smile, forget erase slow tears inevitably trailing down and down. But what if I could be that flutter-bird who won’t, can’t know the unfulfilled, great emptiness of not remembering and knowing nothing? Oh, Can I for once ignore the sting of knowledge I don’t have?
17
Look At Me
claireMILLER
Happy, laughter Blink Angry, yelling Blink Sad, tears Blink Colors of her, Of me. She is special Among a crowd Of others, Who are also Special in the same crowd. If everyone is special, Is anyone special? A mind filled with books, On the inside, She is smart, On the outside, Average. Pulling, Tugging at her mind, The cries of the unlucky While she says she cares, She does nothing, Says nothing, Helps no one.
Art and music Fill her thoughts While lying awake Colors and patterns Swirling Blossoming Into beauty She fears many things Being alone is most present But loves many things also The out casts: Snakes, sharks, and mud. Observers see a Wild child Frolicking in dirt No shoes Curls untamed Face sun burned and freckled Laughter, Freely bubbling from her lungs. She is the shade of gray In a black and white world The screw-up with good intentions In an evil versus good society She is looked down upon But Does it matter? Does she care? Should it? Should she? No
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hannahMAHACH
19
sunhongPARK I already know That I’m not good enough That no matter how many chances you give me I will never reach far enough to your expected height I already know That if you asked me to connect the stars to the trees Or sketch on the silhouette leaves I would fall like dead debris before splattering just one I already know That if you asked me to race the wind Or confront the rays of the sun I would go blind before blinking once I already know That if you asked me to whisper a rhapsody Or uncover my dreams I would sleep before revealing a note I already know That if you asked me to kiss the cascading snow Or breathe the bubbles in the ocean I would drown before seeing a ripple
danielleOH
I already know That if you asked me to dance on a mountain Or weave my fingers through the wild grass I would be grazed before smelling a blade I already know That if you asked me to spill how I feel, into words finding your ears Or unveil the things screaming inside I would fail before praying for enough courage But if you asked me To paint with sound magic through the mask of a piano Or to savor the fascination of the crumbling rain, I would Because that is all I can do
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rachelFRANKEL
21
22
pariSHETH
23
francescoBASTI
negeenBEHDAD
this wa ust like the can speak than the words that were never said. Because I cannot replace the daughter ht he has lost, and it’s something I very well know. I will never be her. And I never quite said I’m sorry. I never told him how much I miss them, because I didn’t want to add to his pain. But sitting with the person who epitomizes endless courage and strength, I didn’t have to add up. For the first time, I was not being pulled into anything. I did not need to even try; all I needed was to remember and to love. And just... just be. Sitting there for a final time, I really did not need to say anything at all.” “It seems as though my mother was right. People don’t lose their kindness by nature; it either gets swept up from underneath them or they choose to have it taken away.” A
slowly
--
developing
pe ace 24
of
m
i
n
d
Rubber and Socks Elaine, I never told you this but I saw that rubber under your bed I saw it and I cried. It was So limp and Twisted and just thrown like that under your Bed. Like how you used to do with your Socks. When I saw it I wasn’t mad but I only thought about Whatever is eatin’ you Inside. And how you may never come to me with Your filled piggybank and Frisbee shaped eyes Again. If momma hadn’t gone to the factory That day, maybe she coulda Set you straight, but I can’t Because I don’t Understand and I aint’ a good man Inside. I’m sorry. Forgive me. Find gold in Yourself, and So will I.
shaliniRANA 25
chloeMOLINOS
26
Wrathful bacteria Invade the body of the host, A plight of various ailments ensue, prompting Overdoses and poison of the remedies. Putative – false. My fingers brush the brow of another. Wipe the sweat, the pained gasps for Air. Respire! Hear the triumph of war – the ominous silence within, the sound of silence. The orchestra still breathes, but the timpani have stopped, disabled. Cut off – finé. The concertmaster plays his solo, anxious, panicked, hurried. And then, The inevitable fumble of the fingers as the bow slips and falls with a clatter To the stage, and the conductor casts away his baton. The Audience draws its collective final breath and the exhalation is slow As the ensemble drifts into its Peaceful slumber
27
alisaCHIRACHATURAPHAK
A Red Lory of
yekaterinaGILBO
gratitude ascends capillary branches red mangrove trees are laden with a flaring and viciously melting sunlight-while a frightfully vivacious rain waters the Red Lory’s jaunty song today--even the rocks of the ancient Proterozoic era stir waking up to drink trickles of gratitude which sustain the elephant, the lichen, and the human today—the sky gushes with Red Lories there are no barriers to a bird of thankfulness for there we are just: (one human miles of capillary branches branches of gushing flowing songs) together in soaring! grace. 28
jeongmunCHOI
29
30
paoloSANTAMARIA
He never left the womb.
Their pleasure makes him wish
Venom into a broken soul, salt into the open wound
The last of his days.
Minimizing his will to maximize
Every insult a jab to his existence,
Disease erodes his life, their words his dignity
Doomed to die.
Looking out of place, he ponders his fate,
He has a story, not just a face
A Kid Like Him
tomikoTAMASHIRO
31
bridgetMANOWN
32
alexandraSANDLIN
alexandraSANDLIN
33
Quick! the columns crumble Crashing, quick! they come. And the sound of sorrow issues Softly, sombre: proud The Constantine hand crushes Smothers with its grasp. The ocean sanguine Flows from Rome. The twin wolves raise their arms and man. Quicksilver faith Betraying an empire.
Theodosian
Decrees
A thousand mountains writhe with grief, The fires burning From the Ambrose hearth.
alexanderDITTMANN Golden halls now tower Setting shadows on our grounds. Their iron fists with fervor, Righteous with their name They slay our holy dragons, Whose bones cry out in pain. From the celestial halls you cower Holding close my scars. we now await a distant day When romance hearkens back. 'Till then you wait and bide your time In the whispers on the wind. 34
samanthaVANHEEST
35
hayleighWALTON I sit here, and a chair sits there. With its skin so broken in by unheeding occupants, all along its surface little bumps like the stubble in my Opa’s beard. A safe weathered feel that reminds me of pretzels and football games. Its white bumps the salt, its leather, the golden pretzel. The dry bread mixed with the salty flavor that combine in a crunch and mix in your mouth as you reach into the bag for more, unwilling to let that taste escape. There sits a TV, with a static surface, quietly squealing with age, making my tongue itch and my hands dry. But it’s home. Home on that chair with its torn leather from the tired paws of our restless cats. Its hide molded together with every crease, every tug, almost as a test of its strength. Smooth and gentle, it holds you, rocking you to sleep as your legs heavily hang over the side and your head lolls on the armrest. As I run my finger along its edges, I feel the insides, uneven, thick and knobby. But they are comfortable. Yellow eyes peek out from behind the chair; purring fills the air – he is hidden, but he is heard. Twitching his little butt, he gets ready to pounce, the chair his hideout. His slick coat catches the warm light from the ceiling, accentuating his old muscles, his young paws, and his rough whiskers. But it’s home. 36
gillianLEE
37
margaretSCHUMANN
The
Art of
Staring Into
Vacancy
pernilleSLETBJERG
I do nothing on purpose. My purpose is clear clean as the air drying up my eyes Then the tears float Like a river of relief they come to me And all I want to do is stare into vacancy. Let my God drive the car, and I roll down all the windows and tear off the roof ‘Cause the freedom is in the air, wind carries it two ways. I chase it from my car A beautiful Cadillac shining in the pink desert with a load of ambition in the trunk. In the fuel tank. My dreams are playing on the radio and I wonder if I am awake or asleep like a baby girl I could use a new beginning. But wisdom is the price. I’d rather pause. Stop the car. Stare into vacancy. But remember to wear your sunglasses in the sunshine. 38
39
boMATSUDA
yasamanNOTASHHAGHIGHAT 40
A Pantoum on Crucifixion yekaterinaGILBO
Did she crucify herself by accident during the sacrifice? Letting go of all the words in her mind, the words in her throat, and her stomach when she did quit her teaching post for me? Letting go of all the words in her mind, She stays home inside. For me and my fatherShe cooks, dusts, and smiles. But no sunflower grows and everything falls. She stays home inside. For me and my fatherWrapped in the blankets of stifled dreams An African Crowned Crane in Captivity Then the blankets grew heavier. Wrapped in the blankets of stifled dreams Life is no longer real; sleep fills the little voids Until that word- the Divorce Releases the African crane-now sprouting.
41
jasonTINIO The aura of your presence Was my beacon of hope. Was my beacon of sanctuary. Was my beacon of life.
And as leaves, we were safe in your Wide girth. I shouldn’t have been shocked Then, when I flew off course.
Like a leaf off a tree, And you, like the beautiful wind, I followed you.
I fell, but I didn’t know. Blown away from the world Helplessly floating.
I didn’t have a choice But I didn’t mind.
I woke up in the dark of a cave The cold ground The damp cavern. Empty and alone.
Through the landscape I rode in your arms.
I couldn’t move. After so long in the arms of an angle, A leaf doesn’t know what else to do.
The landscape, We discovered together. And your whistling through the land, And my crackling sides. Were. Were. Perfect. Harmonious.
In your arms I felt safe. In your arms I was shielded from the dark. In your arms I loved you. But the wind whistled again.
I should have noticed That another leaf had fallen.
“I don’t want to lose you” you whistled. “you should have thought of that” I cracked, “before you left me in the dark.” Like a mockery The whistle was.
abigailBERK
I wait in the depths of the cave Until I fade to nothing.
42
Longing for
My Honey Pie shaliniRANA
Baby girl, don’t stray too far Your mind’s in the gutter but your heart’s in the stars Still you are my honey pie With your buck-toothed grin and them star-studded eyes But please let me know if you hurt I’m still the same daddy who cleaned your shirt Of the blood-stained fears laniALLEN Please come back, my Elaine dear.
rathnearyTHEM
43
negeenBEHDAD
Television Man
Why I was brought I still can’t see But I’m looking where you told me to look And there’s frustration, anger, in this man’s voice, and I don’t know how but I’m loving it He’s going on, he won’t. shut. up. He pushes fingers aside and jams his own Into people’s chests, he will defend his country And his right of speech, and nobody can touch him, Can get him to back down I am this man We all are this man Exploding in the wicker chair for the rest of us to see Pieces of passion get spewed around the room I’m thinking, “God almighty He’s lost his marbles” But his marbles were never meant for a purposeless brown bag I’m taking in his insanity But people will realize his dumb his face his stupid, dismissive Down fall I look at the writings and did I just see everyone agrees? How politically-handicapped can a person, a person be? How moronic How just plain wrong and I want to kick the walls with the stupidity of Our Nation And no opinion is the wrong one but this man’s is as close as you can get But I remember I am this man we all are this man Exploding in the wicker chair, exploding lava ashes As if he would never argue another word ever again
44
christopherTHOMAS
45
pariSHETH
last words from our
SENIORS
margaretSCHUMANN
four years with small club grows in heart and confidence makes a leader proud
jasmineOO Reveille has turned into a home for me. It’s the one place where the shy doodler and the budding poet can shine individually together. It always has been and always will be.
amberHOLDER With Reveille, I learned to tie it all together.
paoloSANTAMARIA Being in Reveille has taught me that art can be both professional and fabulous, just like me.
annmarieBRINZA Through cupcake sales, crazy last minute copy editing, and grading magnificent submissions, I have learned to love Reveille these past three years.
andriannaAYIOTIS Through my two years of involvement in Reveille, I gained friendships and fundraising skills, both that I plan to keep and further during college.
boMATSUDA It’s been an honor this year being able to serve on the Reveille team. I’ve been amazed with what they’ve been able to put together during these past few years; it was a tremendous privilege to be an editor for such a talented group.
ashleeBEAN Reveille helped me realize I could have a future in writing. Last year, through being published in Reveille, I became a real writer.
spencerTOLLO Though it was my first, and my last, year as a Reveille member, it was an wonderful, unforgettable experience that introduced me to types and perspectives of art I had never heard of and ultimately came to love.
francescoBASTI I am extremely happy to know people who are motivated to create something this beautiful.
annaPAK
The Reveille Literary Magazine is published, sponsored and designed by members of Reveille Literary club. The club produces and distributes the magazine annually. The art and writing in this magazine cannot be reproduced without the express permission of the creator. The magazine staff reserves the right to edit writing and artwork submitted for formatting. The views expressed in the content provided do not represent the views of the staff or its adviser. They do not represent the views of the Reveille Literary Club, George C. Marshall High School or the Fairfax County Public School system. Artwork contained in this magazine is not intended to illustrate any given literary work but may have been placed according to content. Additionally, artwork may have been edited and cropped in terms of size or composition to better fit with textual elements. The magazine staff welcomes any artist or writer featured to contact us if they have any objections. Although artists and writers retain the rights to their work, the Reveille Literary Club reserves the right to print and reprint any works submitted.