Gazebo 2023-2024

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GAZEBO

2023-2024

Aiden Opiela '24

GAZEBO STAFF

STUDENT OFFICERS

Andrew Luckey '25 Editor

Brendan DeStefano ‘26 Editor

FACULTY MODERATOR

Mr. John Mills '12

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page 1 Geron Bines

Page 2 Brent Thompson

Page 3 Christian Vega

Page 3 Alex Rossi

Page 4 Christopher Fioravanti

Page 5 Gabriel Cowart

Page 6 John Solana

Page 6 Ryan Will

Page 7 Joseph Malizia

Page 8 Charles Nascimiento

Page 9 Philip Buckleman

Page 9 Sean Oh

Page 10 Shane McLaughlin

Page 11 Geron Bines

Page 12 Gabriel Cowart

Page 12 Christian Vega

Page 13 Peter Nocentino

Page 14 William Hartzel

Page 15 Will Ryan

Page 15 Alex Kempisty

Page 16 Louis Burdick

Page 17 Patrick Maloney

A Dollar Rise Again Eve In Demand Back to Myself Amalgam Summit Cascade Continuation Aegean Betrayal Carousel The Artists Ingenuity August Echo Tired You Should Know Verdant Crash Goodbye Daylight

Clock strikes six.

It’s Monday.

What do we desire?

Do we appreciate the value of a dollar as we open the door of opportunity?

“There’s dishes in the sink!”

“Why is this sitting here?”

Gray hairs appear here & here. Almost like a faint dream, trying to escape our mistakes.

Clock strikes six.

It’s Monday.

A Dollar

Rise Again

Crashing through the bush, the broken leaves, and wet tracks

The old dog slips.

He rises again with a limp presses on.

The sight of home drags the fox down. His soul stops on that old familiar log, comes ever closer— to losing all he has.

Log cabin deep in cold woods

Not a creak of a board

When the clock hits 12

Boxes left behind Massacred in the morning

The rough road of rocks

A path unpaved that nobody walks and nobody tries to save

Need to be bold to go across the threshold and explore alien land, Curiosity is in demand.

Eve
In Demand

Back to Myself

Within the whispering corners of my mind, there lies a heavy burden, evolving, dragging me down towards profound depths where the faint gleam of light struggles to touch.

Days of dreary skies and idle instants blend into one another with no distinction.

Every breath feels like a assault from the constricting grip of anxiety. As I witness the world progressing, I remain a quiet bystander in an ocean of indifference.

Simple chores morph into great challenges and even the tiniest glimmer of optimism seems like a far-off dream.

I long for a hint of brightness in the shadows that could lead me back to myself.

An amalgamation Lines making shapes

Without purpose.

Feeling right

Symbols of a time past.

The people are gone

Forever locked

Hand to hand

Hand in hand

Amalgam

Summit

Rising up the natural wall

Walking the wayward trail

So broad and tall

The cliff I have to scale

One misstep a costly fail from the towering peak

The challenge that I seek

Here at the summit it looks so bleak

Now I plummet

Untouched trickle of blue

Encased in black and grey and earthen hue

A walking, running, spray of green-white gone astray

Stopped still, ensnared the visions dared

Swallowed up and drowned bared without a sound.

Cascade

Continuation

Stressful Monday chokes like dark smoke

Forgetful Tuesday left incomplete Wednesday, busy as ever, packed and deafening

Winged Thursday heralds through the clouds

Hopeful Friday lifts the crushing weight

Weightless Saturday leaps and soars

Vile Sunday remembers and reminds

Aegean

Mark of the sea

A symbol of peace swaddles and pacifies the newborn cries.

Purchased from a carnival stall,

The sky and canvas above and before.

The color of her eyes

The same as my mother’s accenting the far wall of my bedroom.

Betrayal

Betrayal.

A horribly violent, Merciless escape.

Protecting, guarding something.

The price for reaching for it Is fingers or hands, And there is no hesitation.

But there still remains some Remorse and regret.

A child cries home from school. A Band-Aid, a kiss... The sun sets. A student yawns over his papers. He stands, he stretches... The sun sets.

A man sighs through a revolving door. Car starts, radio plays... The sun sets.

Carousel

The Artists

In a dim gallery we hide away, fumbling for connection. We fill the space

With silent yearning, hands outstretched.

Our souls in bags, in cases, in thin veils that hide our faces.

This is a language none speak; a story none tell.

But we approve the rhythm, we applaud the art, and then we part.

Ingenuity

In the realm of creation, we find our art. Brush strokes on canvas, words upon a page.

Imagination flowing, shaping every part, Creativity dances, setting hearts ablaze.

From dreams to reality, ideas take flight, Boundaries broken, pushing boundaries tight.

With a spark of inspiration, we bring it to life, Creativity’s embrace forever a guiding light.

Going away, leaving

Out of anger? Out of love?

An attack

On the person? On the self? the lives of the august so often in this way driven to austerity.

Wandering aimlessly in wooded darkness, while everlasting whispers echo off walls of green and brown.

Out of breath, the howl of wolves grows closer.

August
Echo

Tired

Tired like a purring cat in a warm cozy bed on a cold winter day.

Tired

Tired like a tourist who just got off a plane in a faraway country and is experiencing jet lag.

Tired

Tired like a kid who has come inside from playing in the snow all day. Tired

Tired

YOU SHOULD KNOW

Warm always there; it never left.

The part of you you need.

Protect it,

With armies of fire

So it shall never cease.

If it goes cold, You will freeze. Please stay.

Verdant

Sour

Granny Smith apple

Scent of a Christmas tree a lawn mower grazing in the back yard

The sting from the dive on the turf

What once scared has now become routine. That horrid sea of blue with its frowning face fills the screen again. Crashing upon electric shores, disrupting progress, demanding attention. The brief resets all result in the same cycle time after time..

Crash

Goodbye

Dark maroon blankets burn magazines shapes char Vases hang from the ceiling

Chess pieces slip

The art is gone all gone

A change of scenery Missing structures

Grandfather clocks tick

The light was pouring into the room, filling the room with joy. But not in the corners, dark and gray.

This made me mad.

How had the light come so far to stop there, where it is most needed?

Daylight

Glide

Above all, glide, forget.

Glowing planets, Mysterious stars.

Heavenly bodies gliding through time.

Forever set, exploring

Above is everything,

Glowing through my eyes.

Down below... All I need is myself.

The red yellow boxes circle from the screen populate my mind with sensation Eyes burn colors multiplying on the screen

Screen

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