Ursum Literary Maga
Ursum Issue Five
Chief Editor Theresa Abrahamsen
Student Editors Anna Mikalonis Juliette Volpe
Teacher Advisor Mrs. LaPlante
Cover Art by Georgia McDougall 1
Table of Contents Editor’s Note Artwork
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Artwork
Veronica Papile
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Olivia Ashe
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Theater
Juliette Volpe
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Artwork
Wyatt Truntz
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Branches
Jarriel Cruz
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Artwork
John Hitchiner
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The Hurt
A. White
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Artwork
Caleb Budnick
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Artwork
Caleb Budnick
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Reality
Jarriel Cruz
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Artwork
Sophie Bolton
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Nate Orluk
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Artwork
Lexi Nichols
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Artwork
Lucy Jacobs
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February 14th
Rachel Hennessy
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Artwork
Em Weber
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Artwork
Caleb Budnick
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Green
Anna Mikalonis
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Ballad
A Twisted Mind and a Shredded Heart Jarriel Cruz
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Blue
Anna Mikalonis
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Artwork
Tessa M.
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Relative God
Philip Stetsa
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Untitled
K. Boit
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Artwork
Dina Alfarone
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Artwork
Elena Speliopoulos
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Untitled
Madeline Attianese
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Artwork
Sage Kingsley
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Artwork
Hanna Lloyd
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Artwork
Ellie Karabetsos
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I Forgive You
Brad Even
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Editor’s Note Dear Reader, We welcome you to the fifth issue of Granby Memorial High School’s Literary Magazine, Ursum. At Ursum we create an atmosphere for our writers, editors, and readers so they can express themselves in a non-judgmental environment. Here their ideas can flow freely without fear of resentment or criticism. Their writing gives us, the reader, a story. A story that gives us an idea about their hopes, dreams, and their life. Their art paints a picture of how they see the world and the people around them. As the reader it is important for us to open our eyes and step into their shoes so we can understand what they are going through. Then we can reflect on our lives and make connections with them. This is what the issues in Ursum do for their audiences. We like to thank those who have submitted their work to us. Thank them for sharing their stories and giving us a new understanding about the world and others. Also, we’d like to thank you the readers for taking your time and showing your interest in what your peers have shared with you. Thank you so much. Sincerely,
The Ursum Team
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Veronica Papile
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Olivia Ashe 6
Theatre Juliette Volpe _______________________________________ Have you ever wanted something, You devoted your life into? Have you ever loved anything, You willingly put all your effort to it? Have you ever felt so alive, You would suffocate without it? Like when a ray of sun meets a chirping bird Like the singing of an angel you never heard It all becomes so clear and mysterious at the same time When you step on stage, The people in the audience don’t recognize the stage is something more The stage is another dimension It’s a dimension that carries you away from reality, And into the story Your voice replicates the wings that makes you fly The emotions overpower you like a thousand drums The flow of the body language forces you into the character You are no longer recognizable to yourself You are what you love You are what you crave You are what your life is based on You are theatre The audience blindly witnesses the transition from yourself to your character They see you, and only you The wings and the shifting dimension aren’t visible in their world Unless if someone in the audience has the same passion as you Like when an artist sees a blank canvas with beautiful strokes of color, An actor sees the regular person beyond the facade of emotions
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Wyatt Truntz
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Branches Jarriel Cruz _______________________________________ Some people think that whenever you make a choice, An alternate reality is created for each choice you didn’t make. If that is true, that means that each choice is a voice, A branch on a huge tree made up for roads you didn’t take. But there are branches for the roads you did take. Just like there is a life changed by the choice you did make. I would like to believe that those people are right. That each person’s life is a tree made of light. A tree that is made of infinite branches glowing white. The bright branches would be the choices you did make, And the darker branches would be the road you didn’t take. I would want to look at my tree, at my many chances, And take a stroll through my kaleidoscope of branches. Maybe I will see what could have happened if I didn’t do that, If I hadn’t said this, or if I had told you that. Maybe there is a branch in which we are still friends, But as I smile at that thought, my daydream ends. Because we are not, through your fault or mine, Or maybe our branches just followed different lines. But if I could make a choice, to reconnect that branch, I’d do it in a heartbeat, because I long for a chance. To see what can happen if I make my branch bend, And follow that road that gives me back my friend. After all, it could happen, if I make the right choice, If I pick the right branch, and use the right lucie. Every life is a glowing tree with a kaleidoscope of branches. It’s just up to us to take the right chances.
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John Hitchiner
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The Hurt A. White _______________________________________ A harmless joke was made that day By the boy who never had anything to say. His friends play and laugh it away, But it’s sunken in and here to stay. Judging glances were clear as day To the crying girl who hides in the stairway. She tries not to be the over-sensitive teen, But it’s sunken in and here to stay. Pushed up sleeves to wash away the day, Showed wrists of someone with too much to pay. Red-tinted water flowed down the drain, But it’s sunken in and here to stay. He was laid off from work the other day. Now he’s drinking, trying to keep his thoughts at bay. The bottle has fallen from the tray, But it’s sunken in and here to stay. A story in the news that said she dead that day― The day the girl finally got away. “It was just a phase,” her parents once would say, But it’s sunken in and here to stay.
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Caleb Budnick
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Caleb Budnick
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Reality ​ ​ Jarriel Cruz _______________________________________ Reality. What is reality? It's just a word, not a world. At least not one our eyes can see. Twixt you and me our realities swirled, Swapped, and changed were our fates. Are we sinners, or are we saints? Or just plain sailors, second rate? With a steady gait, and a high-held head, We shall marry Death, accept him in our bed. Reality to one, may seem to another, Like a desk neatly kept, or a shredded book cover. Reality is as fleeting as our dreams, A woven fairy, wings torn at the seams. And fate is merely a state of mind, A belief that our futures are forever defined. We are just God's wayward sons, Waging wars while lacking guns. We must live with all our mistakes, Resisting the urges to drown them in lakes. We spend our lives looking for love, Dismissing the raven in search of the dove. But maybe our reality lies with the raven. And maybe our fates are not what is craven. The sun and moon are joined in celebration, But we've forgotten their affiliation. When pain and stupidity cuts us down to size, Will we finally realize that it's too late to apologize? We make promises that we can't hope to keep. And this is the true face of our dark reality. 14
Sophie Bolton 15
Ballad Nate Orluk _______________________________________ He rises in the morning Gets his silver screen in hand Checks it as he’s walking Oh it feels so grand He makes his way to breakfast Still with silver screen in hand His family is speaking But he cannot understand He rides the bus to High School Keeps silver screen in hand Ignoring his real friends With his e-friends he will stand Makes his way through the hallways Always having silver screen in hand Nose buried in another world Completely gone from this land He gets back in bed at night The silver screen finally leaves his hand And then it seems to hit him He’d done nothing that he’d planned His device it had absorbed him As he held that silver screen in hand Swallowed all his focus No longer did it seem grand
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Lexi Nichols
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Lucy Jacobs
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February 14th ( Macbeth Metaphor) Rachel Hennessy _______________________________________ Shot, and shot, and shot Silent screams never answered, Students once flooding a now empty hallway; Painted with darkness and fear of victims, Families left broken. Gone, gone, life lost! Life is now a tragedy, endless and unremorseful, A thin veil distinguishing the living and the dead, Manipulated and corrupt. It’s a cry for help Told by a powerless public, desperate and afraid, Depicted by seventeen graves.
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Em Weber
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Caleb Budnick
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Anna Mikalonis
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A Twisted Mind and A Shredded Heart
Jarriel Cruz
_______________________________________ My brain’s a mess, My heart's in tatters, But lives are lost for less, When so much more matters. Something’s wrong with me, And I don’t know what. I’m like a baby tree, I fall with just one cut. I see things through a closed door, I see not the rich, I see not the poor. I look through a peephole that’s really a tunnel, My life flows away like oil through a funnel. Time starts to morph, the clock starts to melt, To be loved is a desire that demands to be felt. I may not possess a myriad of scars, But I still feel more at home in the stars. My conscience is riddled with holes from a pin, I preach about sainthood, but live life in sin. We are taught to contribute to our society, But are shunned if we can’t lead a life of sobriety. There’s no such thing as singularity, ‘Cause you are you, and I am me. I feel like I am stuck in time, My life balances on the edge of a dime, Yet I still turn my back to the abyss, In hopes that I can find a moment of bliss. I look up at the stars each night, And dream as they blink in and out of sight. My thoughts are like thorns on a rose,
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The pain is a poison with a writer’s prose. I am useless to my friends, Like a crow is to a hen. I know they’re in pain, but I can’t help, If they are sharks, then I am kelp. They have problems I can’t fix, And I’ve used up all my tricks. The best thing to do is run away, But if I run, there’s a price to pay. It will come if with Hell they collide, And succumb to the demons inside. So I guess I have as much a choice, As the ground beneath us has a voice. I must stick around to lend a hand, And keep my friends from sinking in the sand. There’s just no way to make the pain play fair, It doesn't disappear just because you say it isn't there. But I’ll still try to fix them anyways, Cause I love them till my dying days. My friends are what gives my life meaning, So I will make sure they keep dreaming. They are my family, they are part of me, They keep me from floating out to sea. So with all my heart I thank you, For wanting me to be around you.
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Anna Mikalonis
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Tessa M.
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elative God R Philip Stetsa _______________________________________ Supreme intelligence of a system is not Limited to the imaginary infinite, but spreads itself into the folds of the finite in a sense that every imaginable system is imaginary. For the sake of the subjective: much remains unseen, relations of magic instead of functioning relationships. Through superstition everything is connected but no your finite infinities may exist in a mind of a Relative God.
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Untitled ​ ​ K. Boit _______________________________________ Standing there Hand resting on his car the spark of his eyes glint of sweat on his forehead The noises of the city fading in his presence. Waves of heat danced on the pavement His shirt strikingly bright Against this shimmering abyss Where the weight of the world Was lifted from our shoulders And melted into the cracks. Dreams had become reality Upon embrace, where this hot summer day Paled in comparison to the fire. Standing there Surrounded by smoke, watering the eyes First, the light sting Tickling the skin, barely tangible. Second by second, blisters appear The pain impossible to ignore. And when it becomes too much to bear, Numbness rolls over. The third degree- burn shows its hideous face.
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Dina Alfarone
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Elena Speliopoulos
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Untitled Madeline Attianese _______________________________________ A breath A single outward puff of air Crystallized in the cold Creating a window Between them Clear enough for the girl To peer through The fogged glass And make out the silhouette Of his evergreen figure The moon’s hands Reaching to caress His jaw Revealing the Andes mountains On his forehead From the stress of His eyes Squinting in the Obsidian scene A breath A single breath outward puff of exasperation Triggering every nerve In his body, Shooting signals Of frustration Muscles tense As a rope being pulled in Two directions Vision blurred But not enough to make him Clearly see the Relief that his 31
Whiskey soaked soul Was searching for. This girl was the milky way, So timeless and Complex that All you could do was Look from a distance and Wonder what secrets lay Beyond that stars in her eyes. A single outward puff of stupefaction Took over The boy and the girl Making speech impossible. Two hearts Pumping desperately for oxygen From their breath being taken away. Two deep breaths A couple outward puff of desperation For each other’s lips For each other’s love. Divided they stay Unable to break The barrier of Hesitation existing. Forever wishing For each other’s lips For each other’s love.
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Sage Kingsley
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Hanna Lloyd
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Ellie Karabetsos
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I Forgive You
Brad Even
Good Morning, everyone. Today we will look back on all the times where the class of 2018 really showed true love and compassion for one another. Well, maybe. This class has many, many, many, many memories together. Luckily I was able to be in this school system the entire way through, so I got to experience all of the drama, laughs, tears, jokes, and everything in between. For those who got to be there all throughout with me, I can’t believe we actually made it. Now when I say I got to experience the all the drama, oh boy, there was so much drama. Through sports teams and the rise of social media, our grade had a lot of ways to communicate. Through cringy elementary school relationships, and someone calling someone something about an orca, we’ve seen it all. And just for the record to the kid that stabbed me in the eye with a paperclip, I forgive you for making the soccer team run laps at practice. To the kid that pushed down really hard on my shoulders in 5th grade, I forgive you even though you made me cry. Don’t sweat it the kid that stole my 4th-grade girlfriend, I forgive you, man. All of these memories need to be cherished forever. It's our childhood and they helped us become who we are today. For those of you who went to Wells, I'm sorry, Kelly-Lane was soooo much better. Anyway, recess. Up until high school, I played soccer. So all of my friends were soccer players and during recess, we would be on the soccer field playing a huge game every day. It was very fun, except when Ben Eke would play and destroy everyone with his pace, but I forgive him for that. I also forgive this kid for that time when he got really
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upset when he got out in foursquare and started being really mean to me. It's ok. All the childhood drama and foolishness should be turned into funny stories and good memories growing up. This is a message I want to spread outside of this speech class, to the entire class of 2018 and on top of that, everyone should look back on old silly bad moments and cherish them because that was our reality. Just as a short little reminder, these are the last time out class will all be together, The last times we all have to ask to use the bathrooms or get water. We are about to enter a completely new life. Everyone is going down their own unique path and living their own life. Granby is a part of me and Granby is a part of everyone who comes and goes. It helped raise you. Helped you figure out who you were and what path you want to follow. So I forgive you, Class of 2018, you all hold a special place in my heart and I will never forget the times we shared here. Growing up with you was such an honor.
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