Marian BURN literary/arts magazine - Fall 2023

burn Marian Literary Arts Magazine

[v.14] [i.1]

table of contents

Cover: Unmatched by Scarlett Wharton ‘24 01: Table of Contents: Motivation by Yoselin Lopez ’26, Carrots on Pizza by Tessa Brooks ‘24 2-3: “I’m the girl who” by Coventry Thompson ’25, “Who I used to be” by Lilly McAndrews ‘24, Mindfulness by Grace Comstock ’24, Am I pretty yet by Grace Comstock ’24 4-5: “Distance” by Lilly McAndrews ’24, “The Barnacle” by Abby McGuire ’25, Away from Here by Yena Kelly ’25, Growth by Lucy Mendenhall ‘26 6-7: “What Anxiety Feels Like” by Lily Biggs ’24, “Happiness in My Hair” by Maijeahna Winfrey ’26, Colorful Wonder by Lilly Italia ’27, Head in the Clouds by Hannah Taylor ’26 8-9: “The Loopy Loop” by Elise Rose ’24, The Waterfront by Greta Fishburn ’25, Me and My Dog by Greta Fishburn ’25 10-11: “Something Real” by Leela Sookram ’25, “Cul de Sac” by Andrea Nyamedi ’27, Cowboy by Elise Rose ’24, Sleep Paralysis by Tessa Brooks ’24 12-13: “Mother Nature” by Catherine Buescher ’27, “Storm” by Moria Harr ’27, Who’s There by Izabella Vlasek ’25, Feels Like the Rain by Cora Weis ’26 14-15: “Not Really the End” by Zoey Rumbaugh ’26, “Your Wildflower (remastered)” by Layla WilkeConant ’25, Flower by Nora Britson ’26, In Pink by Riya Kumar ’24 16-17: “A Request for Divine Intervention” by Macaire Harr ’24, “My Sun” by Caitlyn Dunham ’24, “Then There’s You and Me” by Caitlyn Dunham ’24, Messenger by Andrea Nyamedi ’27, Strings Attached by Eden Smith ’24 18-19: “Pre Pain” by Cora Weis ’26, “The Girl of Glass House” by Madeline Iske ’26, Manhattan by Samantha Buckman ’25, Little Nine by Lea Falls ’26 20-21: “Demeter’s Child” by Katherine Dietz ’26, “Somber Wind” by Ava Mueller ’25, A Snapshot of an Orange Tree by Abby McGuire ’25, The Beauty of Architecture by Ashley Keenan ’25 22-23: “The Cat” by Sarah Egan ’26, Cool Cat by Kaylin Petersen ’27, The Happiest I’ll Ever Seem by Elizabeth Buescher ’25 , For Those About to Rock by Eva Kriener ’24 24-25: “57 hold it in” by Mary Beatty ’26, “I’m Not a Reader” by Chizora Okolo ‘26, Bona Fide by Sofia Bostrom ’26, Paper Treasures by Madison Shaffar ’24 26 -27: “My Best Creation” by Layla Wilke-Conant ’25, “A Nightmare’s Wish” by Jane Rohling ’27, Sueños by Yoselin Lopez ’26, Cerritulus by Sofia Bostrom ’26 28-29: “Can You See Me?” by Zoey Rumbaugh ’26 , “You Cannot Count Love, My Dear” by Kaylene Bialas ’25, Ocean Eyes by Bryn Jaros ’27, hApPy MeSs by Maya Zier ’24 30-31: “Dear Vivian Strong, I have your story” by Alena Kehm ’26, We are the Ones Painting Colors on Other People’s Hearts by Greta Justice ’25 32-33: “Old Shoes” by Moira Harr ’27, “My Best Friend Who” by Aja Smith ’24, Latest Blues by Scarlett Wharton ’24 Back cover: Butterflies in my Stomach by Hannah Nutsch ’25

fall 2023 burn staff

Editor team: Chizora Okolo, Kenadie Rudloff, Eva Kriener, Madison Shaffar, Elizabeth Buescher, Yena Kelly, Karis Simon.

Staff: Mary Beatty, Hayden Blaney, Sarah Egan, Lea Fals, Lucy Mendenhall, Claire Pogge, Ruby Scanlan, Piper Schroeder, Hannah Taylor, Kaylene Bialas, Sylvia Borgmann, Abby McGuire, Mary McKay, Hannah Nutsch, Coventry Thompson, Lily Biggs, Caitlyn Dunham, Macaire Harr, Riya Kumar, Lilly McAndrews, Mia Ramirez, Eden Smith, Maddie Smith, Scarlett Wharton.

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fall 2023

Please visit us online to see honorable mention works and music submissions.

motivation [digital art by yoselin lopez ‘26]

burnmagazineonline.wordpress.com

carrots on pizza

[acrylic painting by tessa brooks ‘24]

Marian presents Burn, a literary arts magazine that strives to showcase the original art, photography and creative writing of our student body. Burn is published in print twice a year and online at https://burnmagazineonline. wordpress.com. We accept submissions from all grade levels. Our submissions are judged anonymously, and those that are selected are subject to minor grammatical revisions. Burn is a forum for creative students’ expression. Our goal is to give students a place to publish their work and a place to have their peers appreciate their work. Burn is printed by Interstate Printing Company in Omaha, Neb. For the 2023-2024 school year, there will be 800 copies printed per semester. All titles of pieces and page numbers are set in Hiragino Sans W8 font. The text is set in Avenir Light. The softwares used were part of the Adobe Creative Cloud suite. Our adviser is journalism adviser, Mrs. Marsha Kalkowski. For inquiries, contact us at 402-571-2618 ext 1134, at burn@omahamarian.org or write to us: 7400 Military Ave. Omaha, NE 68134. burn

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mindfullness [digital art by grace comstock ‘24]

“who i used to be” [poem by lilly mcandrews ‘24]

I miss the little girl who spend hours with her barbies then went outside in those little pink rain boots splashed in the puddles and mud the girl who wasn’t worried about her future I miss the little girl who would speed around on her bike then went inside in the childhood kitchen watched mom make mac & cheese I miss the little girl who played just dance on her brother’s wii then went to her room in the pink and green bed sheets smiled as her dad tucked her for bed the girl who wasn’t thinking about college I miss the little girl who smiled all the time in the photos hung on the walls the girl who was just growing up I miss the little girl who I used to be.

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fall 2023 spring 2023

[poem by coventry thompson ‘25]

[digital art by grace comstock ‘24]

am i pretty yet

“i’m the girl who” I’m the girl who walks with pride I’m the girl who speaks her mind I’m the girl who wants to win I’m the girl who “never shuts up” What is wrong with me?

You say I need to shut up and sit down You say I need to stick to my place I don’t understand why I am so wrong I’m the girl who is passive I’m the girl who puts others before herself I’m the girl who prefers to listen I’m the girl who finds strength in kindness Am I not enough?

You say I don’t “break glass ceilings” You say I am a doormat I don’t understand why I am not enough I am just being me I’m the girl who can never escape the bind Of what a woman is “supposed to be”

03 03

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“distance” [poem by lilly mcandrews ’24]

there is such a big difference between a man and a woman it is not one’s appearance but rather it’s the experience that we women have ones that men could never understand our accomplishments are seen as simple something that a man could earn millions for so we tell our daughters work really hard never give up while our sons hear go have fun as if we must work our 9 to 5 before our 9th birthday get up wake up no matter your age you must play catch up because the big difference is the big distance

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fall 2023

away from here [digital art by yena kelly ’25]

growth

[pen drawing by lucy mendenhall ’26]

“the barnacle” [poem by abby mcguire ’25]

You latched on and you wouldn’t let go But I, chained in empathy, trapped providing for you Helping you, answering your every command.

Every failure of mine somehow fueled you So you grew And I could no longer pry you from my skin It was too long, too much So I scraped you off my arm and stared in disgust as you struggled and suffocated And you begged for my help and my saving grace

Life was hard on you.

Locked in the deepest oceans, you craved connections But I watched you were caught up in the tide, But you were lazy, you waited until you drifted to higher clothed in muddy waters waters.

You complained and argued, But you quickly found another.

You found me basking in the warm waters of an aquamarine reef Latching on and on You were small at first, I barely noticed you. and again and again But you seemed lonely, so I let you stay along.

Forevermore. burn

05

colorful wonder [digital media by lilly italia ’27]

“happiness in my hair”

My happiness defined as my hair [poem by majieahna winfrey ’26] Sometimes slicked and straight Sometimes curly and big But always labeled as untamed my hair Not like a line uncaged More like an art form that is based in rage Raged because the titles it’s been named A feeling that is most put me to shame Seeing that my hair can only be seen As professional and clean when it is deemed to fit beauty standards that were not made to fit me Although it’s not like me to scream I seethe at the mockery you have made of me Using my hair styles as a way to be unique But when I tell you not to I am simply not to speak Yet, I still defined my hair as my happiness Because it’s worth fighting for to me

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fall 2023

head in the clouds [digital illustration by hannah taylor ’26]

“what anxiety feels like” [poem by lily biggs ’24]

I am a girl with dreams and a head up in the sky But once in a while that passion oh it gets quiet And before I can ask why A man with a velvet voice and a pretty black tie Walks into my life with a Cheshire smile He’s a bad idea but says that he’s on my side Holds me close and I realize I am a waste of time Overwhelmed by my schedule and these stupid lies But still what’s the point in trying Yet I can’t let go so I’ll just scroll to escape my mind I’m on the brink I’m falling I’m dying slowly Stuck between worries about my life and where it’s going I don’t get it, am I crazy? Please help me, do you understand why?

He laughs and tells me that this is what anxiety feels like burn

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d

m e an

g do my

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burn

[collage by greta fishburn ‘25]

the waterfront

[digital photo by greta fishburn ‘25]]

“the loopy loop “ [poem by elise rose ‘24]

It’s a June night The air smells sweet with swirls of fresh cut grass and a summery mist My dad steps into my room My doors open It was always open when i was younger It gave me the sense of comfort i needed Knowing my parents would be so easy for me to go and run to get In the situation of an emergency Like the monster under my bed My dad asks me if i would like to go on a walk Around our same route The loopy-loop as we call it Our dog Elliot ready to join right by our side We walk it and talk about everything needed I return home and go to bed with my door open

I wake up and I am 17 It doesn’t smell as mystical outside It still smells good My dad knocks on my door Now closed all the time For privacy It gives me the comfort of not bothering my parents And them not bothering me I deal with the monsters under my bed alone now My dad asks once again if I would like to go on a walk I tell him no as I am going to hang out with friends I can’t tell them no I’ll find another time to catch up with him Right?

I go downstairs to leave and there’s no dog, he died last fall.

I drive away by myself Maybe I’ll drive through the loopy-loop if i can remember where it is.

burn

09

[charcoal and pen by tessa brooks ‘24]

sl ee p p

ara ly

s

si

“cul de sac” [poem by andrea nyamedi ‘27]

sometimes life feels like you’re stuck in a jar struggling, pushing, but never getting far or sometimes life fancies you stay in a trap doomed to an end without freedom

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fall 2023

a dead end, a block, it’s all the same a cul de sac, life’s vain cruel game taunting our minds, fight with no avail ‘til hope gives up on you too and just as you have decided to wait, life notices you’ve taken the bait the lid closes. and the cycle continues.

“something real” [poem by leela sookram ‘25]

hypnotized in your eyes

lost in your smile

i ask myself

where have you been all this time?

the sun to my moon the glitter to my gold

cowboy

i want to know everything about you i want to know your every waking thought

[digital collage by elise rose ‘24]

staring at the ceiling of your room trying to find matches in the stars

we are 2 halves of the same whole

burn

11 11

“mother nature” [poem by catherine buescher ’27]

The grass under my feet The whisper of every leaf The wind blowing around It makes a beautiful sound

Thousands of stars fill the night No fake light is in sight Crickets chirp around me As I look around slowly

The scent of many flowers The bees stop every hour Bird calls fill the air Colors are everywhere

Tsunamis the size of mountains Lava raining down in fountains It almost feels like I’m fazing Mother Nature is so amazing.

who’s there

[digital photo by izabella vlasek ‘25]

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fall 2023

feels like the rain

[digital photo by cora weis ’26]

“storm”

[poem by The wind changes directions in the blink of an eye moira harr ’27] Huge, dark rain clouds crowd the sky The storm hit hard and took months to calm I know for some the storm is still going strong It never really ends; it comes back for you in waves But it’s a storm that everyone eventually braves We aren’t all in the same boat, though we share the same sea So be gentle to all, and one day we’ll be free burn

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“your wildflower (remastered)” [poem by layla wilke-conant ‘25] She was a bouquet of roses Always attracting the love I wanted I blamed myself For how could anyone want a wildflower

I am just a wildflower How could anyone love wildflowers over roses Yet you are just a boy Who always seemed fond of a challenge

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fall 2023

flower

You are the stem and I am the roots We are connected I keep you still while you hold me up Without each other we would fall

[digital photo by nora britson ‘26]

Yet here you are We are the fuel and the wood of the flame Burning strongest together Bright with a blaze of the purest form

“not really the end” [poem by zoey rumbaugh ‘26]

So this is goodbye love, and the end dear.

But always know, That for when your heart hurts, it’s me, still loving you.

When you’re angry, it’s me, putting the will to live in you.

When you can’t sleep, it’s me, lying awake with you.

When your hands hurt, it’s me, holding onto you.

When the sky cries, it’s me, missing you.

When the sun shines, it’s me, happy for you.

When the breeze blows, it’s me, walking with you.

When the stars twinkle, it’s me, admiring the beauty of you.

And when it’s your turn, it’ll be me, always waiting there for you.

So always know, that this is not actually goodbye love, and not really the end dear.

in pink

[digital photo by riya kumar ‘24] burn

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messenger

[pencil drawing by andrea nyamedi ’27]

” un

“ my s

[poem by caitlyn dunham ’24] I get to watch my sun from afar Now looking like a star.

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fall 2023

[poem by caitlyn dunham ’24]

“then there’s you and me” [oil painting by eden smith ’24]

strings attached

there’s life and there’s death, fire and ice, air and earth. and then there’s you and me. two petals from the same flower, the wings of a butterfly. we work simultaneously, as if we share the same mind, as if we share the same heart.

“a request for divine intervention”

[poem by macaire harr ’24] We argue too much about religion Both yelling for our souls One desperate for salvation and the other for pardon The angels cry because neither of us can get out of the hell of our own division We can’t hear God over the sound of belief When drowning in fear it is impossible to hear our own souls Crying for each other

burn

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“the girl of glass house”

[poem by madeline iske ‘26] Until all time Lonely silence fills my ears Until all time An aged face beyond my years The garden back of weed and stone A doleful story never told Dark and twisted overgrown From dust to gold No soul has entered through the gate From dust to gold But still I wait These creaky stairs of oak and shag But still I wait Spiderwebs through panes of glass A house held strong by hanging vine

little nine

[digital art by lea fals ‘26]

18 fall 2023

h a t n m a t a n [photograph by samantha buckman ‘25]

“pre pain” [poem by cora weis ‘26]

Knowing you’re going to feel pain Can drive you insane Bawling at the edge of my bed Over scenarios I made up in my head I would think about this day I called these thoughts my pre pain I’m slow to trust and quick to take it away But I still choose to stay Why should I cry when I’m truly not surprised My pre pain had been put from neutral to drive Pain without the pre stabs like a knife Unexpected means danger so in worry I hide No you can’t hurt me Not if you tried I’ve already thought of every knife and every spot it could lie

burn

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the beauty of architecture [digital photo by ashley keenan ‘25]

“demeter’s child”

[poem by katherine dietz ‘26]

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fall 2023

“somber wind”

[poem by ava mueller ‘25] something she was promised and as everyone found that “thing” in flowing white dresses they slowly left her side she was completely alone and she had no idea why

[oil pianting by abby mcguire ‘25]

a snapshot of an orange tree

And so she stood in somber wind Careful to remain quiet and small For she doesn’t dare to ask for

burn

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for those about to rock [digital photo by eva kriener ‘24]

cool cat [acrylic painting by kaylin petersen ‘27]

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fall 2023

“the cat”

[poem by sarah egan ’26]

They say curiosity killed the cat Then you learn the truth and your heart goes splat The cat asked too much and they said “you’re done” Their love is as real as the midnight sun Their secrecy tempts you like the devil You have to know but you just cannot meddle Curiosity did not kill the cat It was what cannot be known that did that They won’t dig deep and tell the truth They keep us out because of our youth We are young, but we are not wordless Our minds and ideas are not worthless I’m tired of creeping along the surface They want it to help but it just hurts us

the happiest I’ll ever seem

[digital photo by elizabeth buescher ‘25]

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I’m not a reader I don’t pick up books To read just for fun or maybe to just take a look I’m picky with what I read the same way I am with food it takes a lot for me to enjoy a book it has to be really good and don’t get me wrong I can enjoy a good book a story that catches my attention one that possess me to read past the hook and I can appreciate good literature a good story that unfolds one that has twists and turns all the book’s stories waiting to be told but I’m really not a reader I don’t sit down and read for fun and read for hours on end not stopping for anyone that is not to say I won’t read what you have wrote That I won’t give your story a chance That I won’t sit here and flip through your pages That I won’t give it a passing glance I’ll listen to what you have to say Or rather I’ll try really hard Because I’m simply not a reader But I’ll try to read into your heart

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fall 2023

paper treasures

[poem by chizora okolo ‘24]

[collage by madison shaffar ‘24]

“i’m not a reader”

bona fide

[pencil drawing by sofia bostrom ‘26] Hold it in Swallow hard You have your whole life to guard

“57 hold it in” [poem by mary beatty ‘26]

Shove it down Suck it in No one cares what’s within Deep breath You’ll be fine No need to put your heart out on the line Think happy thoughts That’ll work You know that only makes things worse Deep breath One last try Let it out just freaking cry

burn

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sueños

[digital art by yoselin lopez ‘26]

“a nightmare’s wish” Deep Deep Down In the inky black sea Monsters lie Looking just like you and me

[poem by jane rohling ‘27]

They snarl and howl Scratch and scream They know of pain Just like the pain they cause in your dream These are monsters Plain and simple

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fall 2023

Deep Deep Down In the inky black sea These monsters are chained Just like you and me

But none of them wanted this misery to come They want to be free Free from this nightmare they live

“my best creation” [poem by layla wilke-conant ‘25]

I could write a thousand poems pieces of literature that could be read by many Hoping to put my emotions into some form of written word Praying that I might touch others the way you graced my soul I could sing a thousand songs my harmonies could bounce off colosseum walls Hoping to give and receive empathy so they can feel my sorrow and I can feel their pain Praying that I ring true to your whispers the ones that entranced me so many nights I could paint canvases of beauty my brush strokes could be in museums Hoping to be acknowledged yet too abstract for another’s bare eye to understand Praying that if anyone sees it for its truth it is you the one who saw me for who am From paragraphs to symphonies to illustrations I could create any form of art I publish books, sing for crowds, show in exhibitions I could render fame in millions Yet nothing, no piece of art could ever be as entrancing as the depiction of you I made in my head You may be the medium but I am the illustrator Maybe “you” aren’t even you.

You are just who I made you to be Yet however fake You are still my best creation to date

cerritulus [ink by sofia bostrom ‘26]

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hApPy MeSs [digital art by maya zier ‘24]

“you cannot count love, my dear” [poem by kaylene bialas ‘25] You cannot count love, my dear My mother told me one afternoon Whilst cleaning out the attic’s boxes Old photo’s memories did appear

My mother picked up one, Her face full with a grin “This is my favorite memory,” she said “The day my love for life began” I looked upon the photo Pictured was a young girl with her mother Both faces shining with smiles They looked not enough fond of each other “That was my mother Whose love was like the sun.

No matter the weather, she was there, Always making each day feel better.”

I pondered what she said and wondered “How does a mother always love their daughter?

Even through mistakes and mishaps Does it never falter?”

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“You cannot count love, my dear,” was my mother’s reply “It is not nickels or quarters, which can be compared.

The value of love can reach no limit For those who truly love you will always be there.” [digital art by ceci urbanski ‘23]

playin’ the hues

fall 2023

“can you see me?”

ocean eyes

[digital drawing by bryn jaros ‘27]

[poem by zoey rumbaugh ‘26] You never noticed.

Only what you wanted to You never noticed the quiet tears her unspoken fears.

But you noticed her keeping you at bay, so you punished her for trying to pull away.

You never noticed her soul draining, her fake smile waning.

You just noticed her slip ups with her grades, and struggles with meeting the guests with a happy face.

You never noticed her drifting away, until it was too late.

But you noticed the dishes in the sink, and the uncleaned plates.

You never noticed how she sought your approval and got your unknown refusal.

You did notice how your yelling affected her, and kept doing it to control her.

You never noticed her favorite color how much she lived in techno color.

You did notice her day dreamsthen destroyed and replaced them with regimes.

You never noticed what she cared about what she dreamed about.

You just noticed she was pulling through and wasn’t turning out like you.

You didn’t notice her sad songs, that went on for so long.

You just noticed her quietness, and met it with violence.

You never noticed how hard she tried, to be perfect for your pride.

You just noticed her flaws, and forgot about her beauty.

You never noticed how much she loved and adored you looked up to you.

You just thought having her hate you was better better than having her love you.

But what you didn’t notice was that she noticed she noticed everything.

Because she still loves you.

And still wishes wishes you will notice what you always missed Her. Just her.

She wishes you noticed her.

burn

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“dear vivian strong, i have your story.” [poem by alena kehm ‘26]

Dear Vivian Strong, You have secrets They trickle out Once in a while A grandmother says you went to a record party Tells her granddaughter Your story.

Dear Vivian Strong, You were taken The world cracked a bit So small Almost unnoticeable They all hurt for you People screamed Your story.

Dear Vivian Strong, Your lesson is sometimes Remembered On the street corner Anyone could look up Find the name Slowly unfolding Your story.

Dear Vivian Strong, I fear no one remembers Your big thing Sent out an earthquake The waves not big enough Barely touching the present Someone please tell Your story.

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fall 2023

[mixed media by greta justice ‘25]

we are the ones painting colors on other people’s hearts

burn burn

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“my best friend who” [poem by aja smith ’24]

My best friend who runs faster than wind and asks who wants to play tag who is lake days and laughs who is a fern leaf and a handwritten letter whose mind is filled with stories is tying up her Nike shoes who tells me in morse code our names who tells me in secret her innermost fears whose dirty cowboy boots are on the porch can’t wait to play mermaids sleeps little at sleepovers who used to sing loudly and collect erasers is gone is a butterfly on a sunny day is a bright pink and red sunset doesn’t swing at playgrounds anymore is finding a good book who talks to me only in dreams is her monster cookie recipe and handmade gifts who still makes me laugh and cry, laugh and cry is the wind running fast through my hair asking who wants to play tag who wants to play tag who?

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fall 2023

“old shoes” [poem by moira harr ’27]

Maybe they are too old And worn down to the soles The color long faded And a couple of holes But I can’t bring myself To just let them go Because they have danced in rain And marched through snow They have traveled far And they have stayed near They have been with me As I face my fear They were worn while I laughed And worn while I cried While standing proud in the open And in the dark as I hide Sure they have rips And sure they have tears But these shoes hold memories And are no worse for the wear

latest blues [mixed media by scarlett wharton ’24]

burn burn

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fall 2023