Kaleo O Kamana’o
2016
Kaleo O Kamana’o The Mind’s Voice
La Pietra 2016 Editors Rachel Wong, Senior Editor Alexandra Araki
Faculty Advisor Camille Lesnick Thank you to The Art Department
TABLE OF CONTENTS Literature A Sparrow’s Fears, Elena Ravizza - pg. 15 Alice Paul, Angel Araki - pg. 19 Bio Poem, Makenna Kinsler - pg. 11 Bio Poem, Sloane Shapiro - pg. 11 Before the Sun, Anela Donachie - pg. 1 Dead Cats Have Wings, Anonymous - pg. 12 The Deer, Anonymous - pg. 13 The ‘Elepaio, Anela Donachie - pg. 18 Frozen in Time, Rachel Wong - pg. 4 Great, Gillian Kelly - pg. 16 Helen Keller, Akemi Davies - pg. 9 Holly the Horse, Elena Ravizza - pg. 19 I Am, Anonymous - pg. 11 I Dream of Candy, Alyssa Kuwamoto - pg. 20 In The Night, Chloe Campbell - pg. 5 The Journey Through Nothing, Gillian Kelly - pg. 2 Juliette Gordon Low, Jordan Namba - pg. 19 Keys, Kayla Dela Pena - pg. 12 Knowledge, Anonymous - pg. 5 Love, Nicole Yarbrough - pg. 6 Love in Paris, Anonymous - pg. 6 Mankind, Alex Araki - pg. 16 My True Beauty, Anonymous - pg. 13 Night in the City, Arisa Ching - pg. 3 Night Geckos, Victoria Gronwald - pg. 7 Pointe Shoes, Akemi Davies - pg. 2 Seeds, Alex Araki - pg. 4 Space Waves, Grace Schnetzler - pg. 7 SSAT Room, Haele Sato- pg. 21 Strawberry Fields Forever, Rachel Wong - pg. 18 The Story of Enoch, Anonymous - pg. 21 They Don’t Understand, Anonymous - pg. 17 Through the Forest, Rachel Wong - pg. 13 Transient, Elena Ravizza - pg. 10 Up Above and Down Below, Rachel Wong - pg. 10 Wanted, Angelina Augafa- pg. 15 What Color is the Scarf?, Anonymous - pg. 8 60 Years of Magic and Believing, Anonymous - pg. 14
Art A Different Perspective, Megumi Shimizu - pg. 1 Abstract Elements, Heather Gallacher - pg. 13 Diversity, Nahono Bayne-Omai - pg. 11 Finger Iris, Heather Gallacher - pg. 21 Handflower, Mari Harwit - pg. 4 Lamppost, Jocelyn Pham - pg. 15 Lantern, Jocelyn Pham - pg. 16 Leopard Girl, Peri Green - pg. 12 Photo, Catherine Middleton - pg. 10 Photogram, Sydney Groten - pg. 3 Side Eye, Jessica Akiona - pg. 9 When the Colors Meet, Megumi Shimizu - pg. 17
Kaleo O Kamana’o
Before the Sun Before the sun can free the day, The birds showcase their opening act. The mice in the fields come out to play Followed closely by the resident cat. The deer awaken and stretch their necks, And the bats start to sleep in their cave. The wolves continue on their hunting trek, While the experienced ones lead the way. Anela Donachie '19
Megumi Shimizu '18
Kaleo O Kamana’o
The Journey for Nothing Finally the end is near We must rejoice for all to hear The light at the end of the tunnel is reached This seemingly insurmountable task has been breached
The light at the end of the tunnel I see glowing with the magnificent glory Ambitions and ailments compiled in one This monumental task is seemingly done For minutes and moments and all measurements of time we have wallowed and waited to end this climb We’ve suffered and soared through hills and valleys all anxiously awaiting for the conclusive finale Each mound we clear, and mountain we scale we have always believed that we would fail before reaching the place we dreamed to be A place more than can be captured in this soliloquy But the end grows closer every day the blinding light emerges from the black and grey Our expectations continue to rise to unrealistic dreams of beauty and bliss comprised When we reach the end what will we do? As our eyes adjust, the glare fades too we realize we are no different than yesterday except for our lost sense of security and allay. Gillian Kelly '16
Pointe Shoes Familiar is the shoe. The once smooth silky texture now feels dirty like a pig’s course skin. Bruised, battered, and broken at its surface, But shows signs of passionate, hard work. Still sitting on the shelf like a couch potato, Wanting to dance again. Peeling at its base from hours of use, Yet the graceful performer makes it her prop. Reminiscing about the times it jumped. Still hearing the faint pitter patter, As the dancer glides along the floor. Compelling the owner to put them on, Just to feel a little joy. Forgetting the pain that comes, With the gently woven silk strands Tied tightly around the ankles. To feel the searing pain as the toes constrict like a balloon losing air. Worth all the physical suffering, Just to feel alive again. Akemi Davies '19
Kaleo O Kamana’o
Night in the City Every night the sky is black and is filled with lights shining from all of the buildings in the city. The orange-tinted lights of other buildings stare at me and block out the stars. From my room, I hear cars honking and police sirens wailing loudly every ten minutes or so. When it is really windy, I hear the wind howling and pounding on the glass screen as if it is trying to get in. When it is calm, I get up from my desk and slide open the window. As I let the cool breeze hit my face, my skin feels damp. I look out towards the city and I see rain dance across the buildings. I close the window and reluctantly go back to my desk to start on my homework. Soon, stress and sleepiness forces my eyelids to droop down and my pencil rolls out of my hand. I slump down on my desk and fall into a deep sleep. Arisa Ching '20
Sydney Groten '18
Kaleo O Kamana’o
Mari Harwit '17
Seeds Frozen in Time My life is a seed, so young and so new, unremarkable and insignificant. A seed has no beauty to boast, yet holds so much potential within, if only it could be watered. Perhaps I’ll bloom into a magnificent oak, impressive and towering above the rest Or an unassuming daisy, dwelling in the beauty of simplicity Or maybe an apple tree, bearing fruit to nourish the world Whatever I grow into, big or small, I’ll become something extraordinary. My life is a seed beginning to sprout, awaiting to see what it’ll become. Alex Araki '17
The branches of the trees quivered on the bleak and stone grey day. A mile afar an old shabby cabin lay empty and frozen. The wood tarnished and windows frosted over. No earth or mantle burning hot from glowing wood. As pouches of snow dropped to the branch below the feeble arms of the pine shrieked as it bent its shaggy needles towards the ground. Nothing flourished, but nothing perished. All was stiff and still.
Rachel Wong '16
Kaleo O Kamana’o
Knowledge Nothing is as valuable as knowledge. Through books, which shook my brain’s crannies and nooks School Books, Sketchbooks, Yearbooks, and Scrapbooks Through which my resounding brain writhes, not of pain, but of acknowledge, Which does so swim, glide, and etch Its values that echo are like the sweet sounding Nightingales, flowing like a burbling brook. Through yonder seeing valleys, to the horizon. Oh look! With elegance, with finesse, lay my knowledge spread across the brook’s edge Anonymous
In the Night I spotted the little shine of the dying fire, just bright enough to see. As I gazed up at the silver, glowing orb my ears were bombarded with the soft music of the grasshoppers. I took a deep breath and filled my nose with the smell of fresh cut grass and new plowed dirt. My eyes wandered over the night sky, shimmering with the twinkling stars. The silhouettes of the the oak trees, their wide green leaves poking out, crowded my vision as I stared out into the open. The branches started to move in an elegant and graceful dance as the quiet breeze swept over them. As I laid my head on the ground, all my worries melted away as the wax from a burning candle. I could still taste the s’mores, that I consumed not so long ago, as I swept my tongue over my bottom lip. I took another deep inhale, catching the faint smell of the smoldering, cherry wood embers. Exhaustion hit me hard as I exhaled. As time ticks by, my body became numb; I felt as if I was floating in mid-air. The distant sound of an owl’s hoot was the last thing I heard as I was lulled to sleep by the beauty of Mother Nature. Chloe Campbell '20
Kaleo O Kamana’o
Love to start or when not an understandable where to end is situation. know Love Love don’t is You This heart is deformed confusing, read. like love. just to like way this which poem. know You don’t
Nicole Yarbrough '18
Love in Paris The Avenue des Champs-Élysées. It bustles, and hustles, Everyone seems to follow. The streets crack, But no one seems to slack. People keep on hurrying, and I am left here worrying. The overpowering street Keeps me on my feet. But I start to ponder About that hateful lover. Is he polite? kind of... Is he sweet? Never when it comes to me. As my life is halted, Paris is not faulted. A city of bustling, And a city of hustling. As I think this is not fair, Paris does not care. The city keeps going And my love is slowing. Creeping to an end, Something beyond mending. I am falling, and he is calling. I am stalling, and Paris is appalling. Anonymous
Kaleo O Kamana’o
Space Waves the soft edges of dilated pupils
the bluish milky fringe
that’s where I wanna live
I could orbit in them forever Grace Schnetzler '16
Night Geckos
At night, the moon lights up the sky with its comforting smile
The geckos greet the moon and chirp for a while.
Next to the geckos stand two lit candles on a table.
The same candles give the geckos warmth from the flame that is burning.
The soft touch of warm blankets makes the earth feel like it has stopped turning.
For they keep me so warm, I feel like I’m floating in a space that is discerning. Victoria Gronwald '20
Kaleo O Kamana’o
What Color is the Scarf? It was on my birthday, that day of receiving gifts, when I woke up and ran like a starving dog who sniffed the scent of bacon, barely containing my emotion, patiently expecting, an iPad, iPhone, or even an iPod touch! Trying too much to not tear the wrapping, and, what emerged, from that red starving mouth, that hungry, starved mouth, that threatened to swallow my gift whole was a brownish green hand knitted scarf, and its mixed blend of colors, was like sewage, its battered, unbalanced texture of bumps, was like sewage, when I looked at my mother, with emotions emerging within me, with a look of a mixture of despair and betrayal, like the look of an abandoned puppy. And that’s when I saw her fingers that she tried so hard to hide, those fingers wrapped in bandages, stained, with fresh and crisp blood, scratched, and swelling, and with her face that tried hard to hide her disappointment, just like me. That scarf now looked, like a warm cozy cabin in the snow, with its warm light embracing me, a mixture of oak, maple, and mango trees and I told her I loved it, and that I would wear it to school tomorrow and I did. In mid summer, I went to school with a brownish green scarf, and I loved it. Anonymous
Kaleo O Kamana’o
Helen Keller I am
One-of-a-kind, tenacious, and heroic. I care about equality for the deaf and blind. Social and political issues are important to me. Equality for the disabled are important to me. Women’s suffrage is important to me. “The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched - they must be felt with the heart.” From my “brain fever,” I became blind and deaf. This experience allowed me to inspire others to not give up on their goals. I used my disabilities to shine light on the social injustices of my time. Despite my disabilities, I went against the odds and graduated college. I hope that people will show diversity and acceptance to the people with disabilities. I am Akemi Davies '19
Jessica Akiona '18
Kaleo O Kamana’o
Up Above and Down Below
Transient
Running free through open fields,
Home’s the place we head for in our sleep
up and down the rolling hills,
and in my dreams it sometimes visits me.
floating above beautiful blankets of bright blades of grass,
Its form changes, yes, but I can tell
she leaps forth with outstretched arms.
by secret sign that it is there in the form of the cat on my lap
Seemingly pure and pristine,
or the smell of the sea breeze.
yet worn and weary within. Compressed like a strong stream
I can find home in the arms wrapped around me
dammed by the scrutinizing eyes of others.
and in the sound of the crackling fire
The miles of grey cotton clouds
because I carry my home with me.
tumble in from the north. It is my vagabond’s knapsack Just as a ceramic saucer falls to the floor,
and in it I tote around the things that make me happy,
the sky breaks open in liberation.
trinkets that I’ve picked up along the way.
The brook above streams down below. Things that I have kept close Dew drops drip down each stem and blade,
so that I can take them out later
eventually making its way into the very heart
and make a home for myself in my dreams.
and slowly softening the dry dirt beneath. Elena Ravizza '16 Rachel Wong '16
Catherine Middleton '18
Kaleo O Kamana’o
Bio Poem
Bio Poem Pomaikaʻi (lucky), hou (fresh), niele (curious), luhi (tired) Sibling of Rylee and DJ Lover of hula, and ʻai (food) Who feels, ʻulala Who needs, Kupono Fey Who gives, puliki (hugs) Who fears, aloha ʻaʻole me ao (no love in the world) Who would like to see, la ʻekahi papa lani (heaven one day) I live in Manoa Makenna Kinsler '21
Scoffing, sarcastic, susceptible to slips, and sinful Sibling of Corwin Solicitous of songs and studies With sensations of solicitude Who needs sufficiency Who gives support Who fears solitude and self-seeking With the urge to see Scotland Resident of Honolulu Shapiro Sloane Shapiro '21
“I am”
I am lost and searching I wonder if ideals can ever be reached I hear the angels cry I want a place that’s safe from dangers I am lost and searching I pretend I’m not confused I feel alone from hope I cry because other people suffer I am lost and searching I understand life won’t ever be perfect I say I want equality I dream of a world without suffering I try to help everyone I hope I’m succeeding so far I am lost and searching Anonymous Nahono Bayne-Omai '17
Kaleo O Kamana’o
Keys Every time that he clangs against a neighbor, he sings, he jingles, almost as if he is rejoicing despite his shining, cold, angry, tough exterior. Whether I want him to or not, he goes ahead and announces my comings and goings. A name is etched deeply into his very own skin if you could even call it such. The name is not his to claim, it shows that there are a million of his kind. At one time he looked just like everyone else, until a woman with beautiful smooth hands picked him up out of a faceless tin sea, and carved him a jagged smile. Now he spends his days hanging on a silver loop with new friends. He delights in the way that his deep ridges and grooves cast shadows in the sunlight like a rainbow after every storm he feels his cold, stiff smile slide almost effortlessly between the gears of a rusted farmhouse for the very first time. Who else can say that his grin alone can open home’s doors?
Dead Cats Have Wings They say curiosity killed the cat, I pay no heed and their words fly away with the gnats. I run from my mother’s arms and off the cliff edge. I lick the blackberry sweetness as I fall, The wind, like needles, stings my face pierces my soul. I drink every drop of this sensation, then suck at the bottle greedily. This life may kill me, but at least I have truly lived. Anonymous
Kaylee Dela Pena '19
Peri Green '17
Kaleo O Kamana’o
The Deer
I saw a wondrous deer. He was peacefully prancing along as if he were taking a stroll in the park. He timidly trotted on, leaving slight indents in the lush grass of the forest floor. I slowly looked up and saw his honey-caramel fur with dollops of white fluff like whipped cream on pumpkin pie. His humongous eyes, as dark and smooth as stones from a river, stared into mine. Whilst in the midst of our staring contest, my thoughts wandered. Thoughts of his fleshy salmon lungs inflating and deflating without a second thought, and his muscles all tense with fear of being killed. his thoughts all jumbled and cluttered by adrenaline, but one thought clear: fight or flight. My train of thought was broken by his choice; he pranced off into the thicket. Flight Anonymous
My True Beauty First cool breath of mountain air. The snap and crackle of my joints unfolding like blooming flowers. The world tastes sweet as I drink it down in gulps big enough to make my throat ache. The trees tell secrets to the wind, I start off along the trail. The forest is a cacophony of life, each tree and bush, each patch of moss and insect. So alive alive alive! Boots sink into mud and leave streaks of earth on my calves. I feel prickling along my spine, I am aching to burst into bloom with the forest, to sink down roots and become one intertwine myself with the rest of the earth. I will drink the sun and be alive alive alive! I will join the joyful chaos of nature and everything will thrum with the sweet song of existence.
Anonymous
Through the Forest Leaves crunch with every drop of my foot. The chill of the air tickles my spine; It’s purer, crisper, fresher, better than the sticky warmth that clings and lingers in the middle of May. Stretching my lungs and hugging my heart, it warms me through and through. Walk faster, stride larger, it begs me to move. Clear eyes see more beauty. For once my thoughts drag behind me, and as they begin to slow, I’m released from the mind’s shackles for a moment's time. Heat within emanates out and pricks my skin. The taste of adrenaline forces a smile. It moves me; I can breathe. Rachel Wong '16
Heather Gallacher '17
Kaleo O Kamana’o
60 Years of Magic and Believing She wears a ballgown of a calm blue color Floats into the ball like flowing water Dances gracefully with the prince to romantic music Singing, “so this is love” Flees the ball at midnight like fire Losing a slipper in the mysterious night Monsters party in the dark night Dressed in a creepy and eerie color Pumpkin king arrives dressed in fire Jumps into the bubbling, murky water Out comes a skeleton, showing Christmas love Thinks it is beautiful like music Young girl enjoys being out of the tower like happy music Her hair has the brightest glow in the night Lanterns come out of the river, floating with love Burning with a light and warm color Illuminating the calm and peaceful water Transforming it into a pool of fire Queen’s behavior is intense like fire Steaming teapots make strange music Little girl grows twice as large from strange water A cat’s creepy crazy smile seen in the blank night Strange wonderland blooms with flowery color But so beautiful that everybody can love Two different dogs show their love At a restaurant that is as warm as fire Eating spaghetti of a bright red color Two waiters play Italian music They walk together throughout the night The weather is clear as water A mermaid wants to be out of the water When she saves the prince, she falls in love Goes to the witch’s lair, spooky as night Given a spell that is burning like fire Sacrifices her voice, sweet as music Her life changes into a different color Attraction shows colors dancing with water Plays music and everyone falls in love While fire exploding like fireworks, light up the black night Anonymous
Kaleo O Kamana’o
A Sparrow’s Fears Once a sparrow asked a hawk about life. The hawk said “Life is cold, it always ends in death.” But the sparrow wondered about love, for he saw in that there existed beautiful blooms, and tried to understand the meaning of open hands. The sparrow had seen open hands, cupping pools of sweet life, but when he approached his blood ran cold, because though those hands offered love, It was surrounded by poisonous blooms. The sparrow feared bitter death. The sparrow fought his fear of death and ventured forth to the welcoming hands. Reveling in the blooms he sang paeans to life and composed odes to love while pointedly ignoring the cold. But there will always be cold, and life will always end in death. No matter the sweetness of love, no matter the warmth of the hands, there is an order to life, and time comes for even the brightest of blooms. Slowly the sparrow began to understand the blooms, and he no longer feared the cold because he realized that it was a part of life, and he knew that a fair price for life was death, because at least he understood open hands and at least he understood love. The sparrow understood that pain can be love, and wilted or fresh blooms are still blooms. There will always be open hands and cold, and death. But there will also always be life.
Jocelyn Pham '17
Wanted Poem
To pick up dog mess is a beautiful chore The unbearable smell like rotting animals is all that you have to ignore Look at the beauty of nature all bundled in that stack of poop Then just take your secured and gloved hand and simply scoop Transfer it into a plastic bag and tie it up real tight Double knot it, triple knot it, there is no wrong or right Then dash to the man, ‘quick quick like a bunny’ And claim what you’ve earned which you’ll discover is money It’s a very easy job, no trouble at all
Elena Ravizza '16
Angelina Augafa '19
Kaleo O Kamana’o
“Great”
Mankind
We rant and jeer and say all things wrong We raise our voices in hateful song We learn the lessons from history's past And yet we still show slavery in our newscasts We wait and hope and look to our fates We blame, foster hate and incriminate We expect others to do whatever we want God forbid we take responsibility for the “injustices” we flaunt Our lives are great, luxurious compared to most And yet we refuse to be gracious hosts People in far worse situations than ours Need help and yet we act as cold and distant as Mars There are slogans like “make America great again” What does this mean? Don’t we need to make amends? In the light of the media there is so much we can do And yet we focus on the hate and forming racist coups We stick our necks where they are not needed and when help is wanted those calls remain unheeded Corruption is rampant and needs to end Make America great, and leave out the “again”. Gillian Kelly '16
The wind howls through the trees and the leaves rustle gently as they dance. All is peaceful, all is serene. Not even a ripple disturbs the great lake as it glistens proudly in the sun. No creature, from land nor water, stirs. Then suddenly the forest stirs as the songbirds flee the trees and the clouds seize the sun. In their scurrying, the animals perform a panicked dance. The wild stampede tears ripples through the lake. It’s no longer serene. A gunshot rings out, disturbing the serene forest; even the greatest beasts fearfully stir at the strange two-legged creature that lingers near the lake. The crows fret nervously in the trees, their morbid caws twisting the shadows into a dark dance. Then the moon defeats the sun. In the eclipse, the sun retreats to a place where it is serene. Bam - the bullet finds its victim; a fawn collapses in a macabre dance. The wildflowers weep, for peace is stirred. Their tears are taken by the trees, which then carry them solemnly to the lake. Over by the lake, the man stands triumphantly in the sun. He doesn’t hear - he cannot hear - the mourning of the trees. He revels in his sacrifice of serenity. Claiming his prize, he is all but stirred. In nature’s defeat, the man leaves in an arrogant dance. And in his parting dance, nature is restored. The lake sees no tides. The animals stir from their hiding places and into the sun. The forest seems serene, but they know the truth. “Who is the true beast?” ask the trees. It’s man and nature’s dance, encompassed in the sun. Still the lake; once more, all is serene. Nothing stirs, nothing moves in the trees. Alex Araki '17
Jocelyn Pham '17
Kaleo O Kamana’o
They Don’t Understand
“They don’t understand” They say we are looting and hollering They say we don’t know how to act They say all lives matter They say he was being aggressive They say I saw a gun “I got love for my brother but we can go no where unless we share with each other we gotta start makin’ changes” 2Pac one of the best poets of all time stated in the 90’s They say poetry over a beat is nonsense They say it promotes violence and uses women as an object But they don’t listen to the lyricist They don’t hear the struggle so they don’t hear the reality and the feelings in the rhyme. So, we don’t wear hoodies and we say I can’t breathe so, we get on our knees so, we hold our hands up but, we are tired we are tired of prejudice and racism we are tired of stereotypes we are tired of countless murder things have moved forward
Megumi Shimizu, grade 10
Oprah has her own network Serena and Venus Williams came from a rough neighborhood, but became two of the best tennis players ever Janet Jackson one of the best entertainers and performers. Also an activist with her song rhythm nation “with music by our side to break the color lines lets work together to improve a way of life join voices in protest to social injustice” Janet sang in this catchy tune of the late 80’s “I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.” Things have changed since Martin Luther King jr. said “I have a dream” but, sadly there will most probably never be an end to racism we fight battles, but we haven’t fought the battle in our country. As said by Amanda Stanberg “What would America be like if we loved black people as much as we love black culture?” Anonymous
Kaleo O Kamana’o
The ‘Elepaio ruffles its dusty feathers, rubbing its beak on the crumbling bark of the twisted ohiʻa lehua. weak sunshine tempts diminutive seedlings, like a dried starfish towards the chilling water. The wild boars trample the kalo, leaving their watery home full of filth, felling the sacred trees. The nēnē flock upland driven out by the noisy destruction of what once was their untouched nursery. The seals are suffocating in their pelagic home, fishing lines chew, and the ocean swallows.
Strawberry Fields Forever When the days grew long, and the skies turned clear and blue, everyone knew, that summer had arrived. In the green fields, bright berries flourished and gleamed, and dark cherries deepened in color. Tiny children screamed with joy as their baskets teemed with fresh fruit. Running through the bushes, they beamed with delight. After a day of much sun, they returned home, baskets filled to the brim, and their skin stained red.
But the oblivious ants continue to expand their crowded colony, as the hill they build on slowly crumbles.
Anela Donachie '19
Grinning ear to ear, one could see all the seeds stuck between their teeth. Satisfied and full, they fanned themselves to cool, and as they slumbered in the shade outside, the birds serenaded to the sky. Rachel Wong '16
Kaleo O Kamana’o
Alice Paul I am Courageous, Passionate, Iron-Jawed I care about the rights of women Equality is important to me Peace is important to me Women’s voting rights are important to me
“I always feel the movement is a sort of mosaic. Each of us puts in one little stone, and then you get a great mosaic at the end.” -Alice Paul Though I was thrown in prison and force-fed, it helped me bring more awareness to my cause This world should have gender equality It is important to fight for what you believe in The oppression of women should not exist I dream that one day, this world would see women as equal to men, and that we would receive the same opportunities I am
Holly the Horse Who Hated Hay Holly the horse who hated hay wasted away day after day
Angel Araki '19
her friends cried and her friends begged but into eating she could not be egged she simply grew thinner and thinner there was nothing she wanted to eat for dinner as days and weeks and months went past
“Juliette Gordon Low”
her friends all looked on aghast as the once healthy Holly the horse
I am kind, adventurous, and unconventional. I care about other people. Family is important to me. Having fun is important to me. The organization of Girl Scouts is important to me. “Right is right, even if no one else does it.” The loss of my husband freed me to eventually find my sense of purpose. I love art and travel. I love my friends. I love empowering girls. I dream that the Girl Scouts will be international ambassadors for peace. Jordan Namba '19
lost her sense of purpose and force her friends still tried to get her to eat but that was no easy feat until she wasted away because Holly the Horse hated hay Elena Ravizza '16
Kaleo O Kamana’o
I Dream of Candy There is pink cotton candy in the sky I am in a sugar rush world Full of crazy happiness Where there are candy cane trees I am in a sugar rush world With lollipop flowers Where there are candy cane trees The Swedish fish are swimming in coca cola With lollipop flowers There is a valley of colorful gumdrops The Swedish fish are swimming in coca cola While the Laffy Taffys are laughing There is a valley of colorful gumdrops And an ice cream winter wonderland While the Laffy Taffys are laughing The Oreos crumble down from the Oreo mountain And an ice cream winter wonderland With a mint chocolate river The Oreos crumble down from the Oreo mountain The chocolate fountain flows like a waterfall With a mint chocolate river Sometimes it rains sprinkles The chocolate fountain flows like a waterfall The gummy bears are frolicking around Sometimes it rains sprinkles Full of crazy happiness The gummy bears are frolicking around There is pink cotton candy in the sky
Alyssa Kumamoto '16
Kaleo O Kamana’o
SSAT Room Kids filed in. I scanned the white walled prison for a familiar face, But only a blur of similar blank ones met my gaze. I slid back into my rigid chair, And my scruffy old sneakers squeaked as they scuffed the white linoleum floor. My knees bounced; and they grazed the bumpy gum-belly of the small grey desk I sat at. This school should manage their desks, I whispered. The walls held their breath as the absence of laughter rolled off of them. I leaned back, and I admired the neatly organized room; However, not a splash of color touched inside the frames of the pristine canvas of the painting. Our only escape exit, not far from my desk, was a singular polished orange door. Part of our fates would be determined in this antarctic place. No one said a word; I could cut the tension in the room with a moderately large knife. I could sense the nerves and anxiety bouncing off the people; Many had cold sweats and gaunt faces like they hadn't prepared, or didn’t sleep the night before. Tick, tick, tick. I tilted my head back; my weak eyes couldn’t see the hands on the black clock. She passed the crisp, white test packets out, And I knew. I had to get out. Fluorescent lights pulsated from above, and the white pages of the test seemed to burn my eyes. Minutes passed. Each kid got up and left, One at a time, Until it was time for me to go. I got up, smiled to the teacher, and left behind the white walls, The organized room, the gum under the desks, and the teacher, who waited patiently for us to finish. As I left, I thought, I will never take this test again. Haele Sato '19
Kaleo O Kamana’o
The Story of Enoch A baby was conceived, a wee little thing, not very large at all. It began to grow, and grew bigger and bigger, a steady growth. Then it was born, he was named Enoch. He stayed the same size for a little while and then grew even more. When he was about twelve he got taller, and at fifteen he grew larger than his two parents. He stayed the same height, but he was not aware of the disease slowly causing him to shrink, old age. Enoch passed away and his body was cremated, he was now nothing much more than a bunch of ashes. His ashes were spread in a grand ceremony and he was left to rest.
Anonymous
Heather Gallacher '17
La Pietra Hawaii School for Girls 2933 Poni Moi Road Honolulu, HI 96815 808-922-2744