Archbishop McNicholas High School 6536 Beechmont Avenue Cincinnati, Ohio 45230
Table of Contents Writers Bartel, Luke Baurichter, Austin Birk, Libby Bloemer, Anna Bradley, Emily Bridges, Lauren Buhr, Sarah Burke, Brian Christmann, Hannah Clark, Lauren Coffey, Shannon Cooper, Lea Custer, Lucas Daly, Maggie DeLuca, Rachele DelVecchio, D.J. De Salvo, Nina Dirr, Molly Ecker, Allison Feck, Emily Feldkamp, Becca Fitzpatrick, Haley Frenzel, Brian Frey, Lucy Gerding, Dylan Gormly, Tim Grall, Clare Grever, Natalie Grieco, Jake Hayes, Sarah E. Hiltz, Kathleen Hwang, YeonJae Jenkins, Hallie Johnson, Mathew Klatte, Patrick Klump, Hannah Kuhlman, Robbie Kunkler, Anne
Pages 5, 24 4 46 9, 15, 28 42 42 47 38 50 21 54 40 6 39, 53 24 56 8, 18 50 12, 14, 26 8, 10 4, 11, 20, 33 45 52 7, 13 56 11 47 23 14, 17, 38 29 48 48 13 53 5 16, 28 52 44
Writers Leach, Austen Lewis, Joshua Lindsay, Courtney Losekamp, Tony Maloney, Sara Martin, Carrie Mazzaro, Lauren McLaughlin, Kody Morrisroe, Erin Morrow, Kerry Murphy, Amanda Murphy, Jessica Neltner, Rachel O’Flaherty, Kelsey Ostermann, Carmen Paquette, Catherine Rechtin, Evan Reid, Austin Rinaldi, Felicia Rogers, Richard Severyn, Jenny Smith, Ryan Snyder, Maggie Stanfield, Dillon Sullivan, Shane Sweet, David Tabet, George Trauth, Audrey Tucker, Carrie Van Dusen, Austin Vonder Meulen, Nora Vraniak, Mariah Webb, Tess Weir, J.T. West, Darren Wiesenhahn, Katherine Wilch, Puddy
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Pages 42 7, 20 25 4, 24 56 27, 49 6, 17 45 50 26 48 22 54 12 55 52 5, 25 44 51 25 34-37, 41 9 46 21 32 51 27, 30, 32 30, 33, 40, 47 6 45 14, 15, 18, 20 43 10, 16, 29 10, 31, 39, 41, 43 31, 49 55 19
Artists & Photographers Anonymous Berning, Sarah Bloemer, Anna Burke, Brian Feldkamp, Becca Fitzpatrick, Olivia Foster, Christine Hiltz, Molly Laube, Ava Lehnhoff, Emily Luedtke, Erica Motz, Claire Newman, Kevin Ostermann, Carmen Scott, Lauren Semancik, Gretchen
Pages 6, 12, 50 7, 18, 43 9 25 1 11 30, 47, 48 6, 13, 49 19, 20 15 5, 29 4 14, 20, 27, 52 26, 32, 40 11 17, 33, 51
Artists & Photographers Shepherd, Lindsay Stanfield, Dillon Trauth, Audrey Waits, Nicole Weber, Gretchen Zofkie, Elizabeth
Pages 54 cover, 21, 41, 46 3, 9, 39 44 8, 10, 18 24
Chief Editor: Sterling Shaw Art/Layout Editor: Anna Bloemer Editing Staff: Creative Writing Class Special thanks to Mrs. Val Combs and Mrs. Mary Rudd Moderator: Meloney Feldkamp
Reflections is a co-curricular publication of the English and Fine Arts Departments of Archbishop McNicholas High School, 6536 Beechmont Avenue, Cincinnati, Ohio 45230. It features original poetry, formula poems, reflections, a short story, artwork, and photography of students in grades 9 - 12. Archbishop McNicholas High School does not necessarily endorse the content of any of the writing, artwork, or photography, but offers the magazine as a vehicle for creative expression. 3
Challenge A challenge is like a tree growing on a rock. The roots trying to sustain the parts above. The seed dropped in a crack. The roots reaching for the tiniest trace of water. The trunk slowly, very slowly growing. The branches reaching into the vast sea of air. The leaves all working to collect the sunlight raining down. Trying harder than others just to beat winter to grow again in Spring. You look at the tree, small but so strong. When the fruit appears as its reward. The tree did what thought to be Impossible. Tony Losekamp Fort Grief The great gray orb’s illumination Casts an eerie light on the desolation Resting under a crisp, cold starry sky.
City Silence
The remnants of the recent past, The beings lost, the memories last. The fallen lie beneath the crisp, cold starry sky. A shrouded figure Sails across the river, Down shines the crisp, cold starry sky. A vict’ry ensured, their quest fulfilled, He brings them atop their conquered hill. They rest at last, part of the crisp, cold starry sky.
Austin Baurichter
Scurry down the side street, no expression on your face. All humanity’s in a hurry, Ev’ry person has her place. Brush on by the others past a thousand uncracked smiles. Without such time to stop and chat; nobody’s worth your while. So cliché a city, only money on their mind, is life just another day of that empty daily grind? We’ve taken vows of silence for a whale of no reward. Others’ lives are our possessions, and the Dollar is our lord... Becca Feldkamp
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The Gorgeous Life
Pain
Why is life so beautiful? Golden rays of sunshine brighten us all The green grass is a friend to me and to you Water turns into rain as we turn into dust There is no need to fear the prowling wolf He is only doing what he was born to do But we must fear the prowling human A fallen eagle makes a new angel His death allows for a new beginning All strive to make their kind stronger The motto states “All for one and one for all” Even water can soften the toughest of rocks Digging in and breaking away the cold stone Stop to listen to the bird’s soft song He only speaks truth and can’t tell a lie Take it all in and hold it close to you Life is beautiful if you look at it all.
Scratching, tearing, bleeding: Why can’t you make it stop? Stinging, scarring, burning: This pain has reached the top. Screaming, crying, cursing: Why won’t you let me be? Falling, drowning, dying: For you, it’s hard to see. Aching, yearning, longing: Will someone let me in? Wanting, needing, finding: Happiness in my skin. Evan Rechtin
Patrick Klatte Light There is light Light from the sun Light from the flash of a gun The better light is the one you don’t see It’s the light between you and me The light from your eyes Looking into me 5
Luke Bartel
Awakening What better a day have I ever known? Than one that is spent with my beloved. Tis a day thou have lived with me alone That brings me a smile with all thou said. To live, to laugh, to love, I share with thee A blanket, a song, a dance in the night; And what pleasure tis for my eyes to see The beauty thou hold before my own sight. When speech without voice is conversation, It can only lead my love deeper more, Toward thy heart, a most joyful sensation; Still another day with thee I yearn for. Tis true I found for thee, great affection, And with thy love, my heart’s resurrection.
In the sky, in a blink of an eye A lot can happen in a blink of an eye like watching the sky... ...and seeing a shooting star fly by. But if you blink as the star goes by it could die in that blink of a single eye. Then it’s gone. Gone in a blink of an eye. Anything can change in a blink of an eye. The star in the sky shines, flies, and suddenly dies in a blink of an eye. We live, we shine, we can die suddenly within a blink of an eye. The star flies by, but then it dies... We live, we shine, we die, in a blink of an eye. What little time.
Lucas Custer
Smile I smile when you say hi, and I smile when you say good bye. I smile when I see you smile, hoping that it will last a while. That sparkle in your eye, could make me cry. But with all your smiles, they will last for a million miles.
So try and live, and shine in that little time and don’t take your shine for granted because anything could happen in a blink of God’s eye. And one day, you’ll be that star up in the sky, watching over all, the lives of those who are watching you cross by in a blink of an eye. As you shine shooting by. Carrie Tucker
Lauren Mazzaro 6
My Great Escape Stepping lightly across the floor so no one can hear, I open the door and sneak onto the front lawn barefooted The cool lake breeze surrounds my face; the blades of grass creep in between my toes‌ I run. My hair blows with the wind and so do the memories of you These memories so clear it feels like you are near. So quiet, so calm are the blue waters. Steadfast is my heart and bright are the stars. With tears streaming down my face, I jump into the refreshing water to wash out All the memories, but nothing can stop the pain. Out to the sailboat I swim, while remembering what I miss. I want to hear the laughter, see your eyes, feel the hugs, And warmth of your smile. Out of the water I run swiftly across the old wooden dock. I want to escape. I have to escape! I run up the front stairs, tip toe back into the house with my PJs, go up the stairs and crawl into bed. Within seconds, I escape into my dreams with you. Lucy Frey Loving Mother Loving mother, just placed ill Loving daughters, crying and still Loving father, torn apart Depression, heavy on the heart Loving grandchildren, waiting in fear For what will soon be coming here Loving mother, once called best Now will forever lay to rest Loving family, torn apart The mother’s last request, go back to the start Joshua Lewis
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The Night The Night is an interesting place. And I don’t mean 9 0’ clock. The true Night doesn’t end up replacing your world until midnight strikes, while you quit searching your ceiling for encrypted messages, and finally peel away the protective layer clinging to your skin, and begin your search. For something? Anything, really. I truly think I’ve lived longer in the Night than anywhere else. There’s something equally comforting and painful to how routine it is to fall into consciousness right about the time everyone else falls into sleep. In an odd sort of way, it’s almost like a third dimensionThe structures are all where they should be, standing tall and still just as they would in the Day. Only, instead of lights and sounds leaking through every crack and crevice, an almost eerie stillness settles over them in the dark, filling their empty shells. The same people exist, only most are off in Dreamland, facing hidden insecurities and chasing after secret aspirations. There’s a few of us that are always still left standing. But we are no soldiers, no heroes, just stragglers left behind; leading a whole new life in an almost separate world, until finally our bodies can take no more, and eventually give. Sure, there’s always a few hours of sweet, sweet serenity, but it’s never quite enough. Thoughts will creep in through a corner of your mind you never knew you had, and you’ll swear to great discoveries made. But when the Day finally takes over, they’re never quite what they were, never quite as lifechanging or history-making. But that’s why they’re kept separate, Day and Night. Though they remain the same physical place, they’re anything but alike. Nina DeSalvo
Swallow It All I open myself up to you To all the pain, suffering, disappointment I take it all from you Lock it deep within; The vast vacuum that has become my soul I take it all from you In the hopes that you will be left In peaceful oblivion And that you will share that with me Emily Feck
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Caged. The bars on my cage confine me; Box me into this prison I’ve created for myself. Barriers built from my worries, expectations, And that which I know I cannot change. I pace in my cell day after day, Knowing that I could be set free If out of my doubts I emerged, Bearing a renewed perspective, indifferent to fear. Light winks through my prison’s walls, Teasing with glimpses of freedom. The warmth appeals to my secluded self. I am tempted with the promise of abandon. Cautiously I break through the bars. I step into the lights but my eyes burn with unfamiliarity; My pounding head ceases as I return to the recesses of my cage, The protective walls welcome me home to their embrace. Anna Bloemer I wonder what it’s like not to breathe I want but cannot leave But you lay there tugging my sleeve The look in your eye tells me to leave I know it shouldn’t be this way I don’t want you to lay here day after day So go to a deep sleep While I sit here Haunted By this machine That allows you to breathe. Ryan Smith
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Reflecting On relatively brief Samples of her Persona(s), I have become aware That only one question is really pertinent: What do you see?
Nostalgic Murder Last night a platypus Murdered my therapist Well, Looks like my problems are solved.
Isn’t it really The human goal? Love, friendship, Court-ordered psych Evaluations –
Tess Webb
All simply attempts to adopt Another person’s Worldview. To see the Whole enchilada from An entirely alien Perspective. Humanistic Panorama. J.T. Weir
Better Now You were better than I was because I let you be I made you a god in my own mind, and I let you take things from me Things that I had saved for myself You stole everything good in me and left me dead But I have been reborn, like a flower in spring What you took from me I have reclaimed, That and so much more Because I am better now Better than I was with you, Better than I ever could have ever been without you Emily Feck
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Football The roar of the crowd as the ball is kicked, Buckle your seat belt, you’re in for it. Swing pass left, run right, It’s going to be a tough one, a classic dog fight. Long drives and big defensive stands, Perfection, this game does demand Execution is the key to success This game not only needs power, sometimes finesse. The team with the most heart will always win, You have to pull it out from deep within. This game has everything including big hits. What do you say? Can you handle it? Tim Gormly Delicious LIES Take a look outside your window and tell me what you see. Can you tell me that this world’s as it’s supposed to be? Your candy skies Are sugarcoated lies, We aren’t the only humans. A world of war is knocking at your door waiting for you to answer. Do you not hear the innocent sobs; The world is calling for us. Their pain is harmonic, It hurts to hear Their universal chorus. Stop the hesitation, It doesn’t have to be this way. Who says we have tomorrow? We don’t even own today! So look outside your window and tell me what you see. Patience is the virtue, But loving is the key. Becca Feldkamp
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Don’t know how this happened I was just talking to you Now look at the mess I’m trapped in I’m not sure what to do
You try to get them on your side To convince them you’ve done no wrong But honey they ain’t nationwide And you’ve annoyed for far too long To add another straw To the broken horse’s back Yet another of your flaws You get others to attack
I don’t know why you did Honestly I don’t care I just think it’s stupid You even brought him there.
I didn’t appreciate it When I read their notes They lacked any kind of wit Each a simple quote
I hate the way you lie And show no one respect You let our friendship die Then all my thoughts were wrecked You said that I could trust you And that you were my friend And now I think it’s through Our friendship’s met its end
They told me to mature But by simpler of means So I guess I’ll say ‘sure’ So as not to make a scene
But you won’t let it die in peace You stab it again and again When will the nagging ever cease Are you seriously age ten?
So I guess I’ll “grow up” Like they told me to But guess what, buttercup I’m finally through with you Allison Ecker Pink Monkeys I want to be able to love you, But someone else took my heart and broke it in two. I want to give you all I have, But the love I had before was bad. I’m trying to forget and forgive, but my heart won’t let me. I wish you knew how i felt; I wish i could make you see. I love you, with half my heart, because that’s all i have left, Just remember that I’m trying, and if you left, I’d be a wreck. Kelsey O’Flaherty
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My Jar of Secrets Inside this little jar of mine‌ Are all of the memories I have left behind, So alone and sublime are these little memories of mine, Someday they wish to be let go by my beau, But I keep them concealed within; so no one else will know. Time has passed and as it keeps ticking My heart sadly is sinking. For once I was a child on the outside, now a young lady. My beau hasn’t come lately For only he has the strength to open the lid, And release all of the memories of this inner kid. Lucy Frey
Credo I believe in the importance of family The value of hard work The pain from hurtful words The power of teamwork The bond between friends, humor, respect, love.
But the thought that one group of people is better than another should never be believed.
I believe in the healing touch of music. I believe in sticking up for what you believe in I believe in trusting the ones you love, gratitude, courtesy, honesty. Hallie Jenkins
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Broken Life
Formula For A Feeling Printed letters
The thorns of love
Turned into printed words
Pierce my heart
Formed into tearing pain Mind wanders Soothed into placid dreams Only back to you Pathetic roses
Touching fingers
Only to be
Turned into touching bodies
Red reminders of the past
Formed into made up reality Soothed into unjust hopes
Nora Vonder Meulen
I can’t explain the way you make me feel. The giddy joyful heart I hold inside, It’s like pain and sadness can’t be real. You make the sorrow run away and hide. You’re the sunshine on my darkest day No longer must I fear the gloomy rain Reach out and hold me with your golden ray Anything harmful just went down the drain. Why must you have this power over me? I used to decide all matters like these. No person but I knew what I would be, I locked up my thoughts and threw out the keys. Oh, kind influential master of mine, Promise to be true and I will be thine. Allison Ecker 14
Spoken truths Turned into spoken love Formed into hidden fear Soothed into hallow hearts
Forgotten people Turned into forgotten memories Formed into unknown feelings Soothed into marble souls Jake Grieco
Anonymous.
Your Tears will Fall Why was I made the way I was? That’s just how the cookie crumbles, they’ll say. And as long as you don’t eat any cookies, You’ll be thin, and happy, and everyone will love you.
You may wish you could give up, But you’re not allowed to give up anything But carbs and sugar and the ugliness
Screaming and Yelling Your face to the wall Violence and hatred Will end it all? Stress and anger But stand up tall Hide all the pain, But the tears will fall.
That is your originality and uniqueness.
Nora Vonder Meulen A stomach ache; the raging hunger inside Is no longer pain, but the soothing reminder That, soon, you will be the best person That you can starve yourself into being.
You feel the floor falling out from beneath you, But that only means the weight is falling away, And pulling down with it the smile That you once used to have.
There is no way to win this game, Because even during hide-and-seek, You cannot escape the watchful eyes That you’ve created to torture yourself. Anna Bloemer
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Today. I am coloring in a wrinkled-up torn paper sketchbook on my lap, pencil clinking between my frail fingertips as drawing thoughts soar through my summer-fixed mind. The sun peeks through my tilted pencil and creates a rough black line edged on the side. I stop drawing for a moment, fill my lungs with blissful fresh air, and start again, refreshed with new thoughts of big-eyed children running in cascading meadows with their long hair dragging behind them like a veil intermingling with the grass below. I am breathing the sea-sweet air through burning-warm nostrils with my feet squishing through the mutable tan-grain sand, the scorching warmth pressing against my bare skin. My salt-dry paper inside my sketchbook is covered in messy charcoal lines, and my pencil curves over its pressed hills as the golden sunlight swerves around my shadowed-pink lips opened like a rose. At day, I am thinking of a forest surrounded by birds- lush green and yellow-orange trees dipped in autumn melody, the leaves as dry and cold as my drawing paper. By night, I am thinking of the animals that run through the moonlit dirt-rustled brown path, cracking the memories before it as they run into the protruding darkness ahead. I am hearing my heartbeat pound through the coarse air as the charcoal vermicelli lines connect, erasing my old mistakes and creating new ones in seconds. The ideas are flowing through my mind like a blue river; lush and alive and joyful. I am remembering the sounds of life, the sounds of peace, the sound of a smile in the sunlight, and with it, all of the symphonic sounds of the today that will never come again. Hannah Klump
Speed into the night Oh, Mrs. Moonshine Do you see the light of day? Does it anger you? The dark side runs your life. What do you have? Broken bottles of hard liquor, half drunk. Cigarette butts to last for months. What have you gained? A little sense of freedom? Remember, the day cannot fulfill the promises; that your shattered nights control. This emptiness will never grant you a “status�. Tess Webb 16
Try I’m trying to do it just so I can prove it every day I try to keep myself from lying and to be a better person and continue trying. you must look up and see that if you try you’ll be the best you can be. So don’t continue to cry and cry, when all you got to do is try and try. Stop wasting your life crying, just pick yourself up and keep on trying. Lauren Mazzaro Ispep Memories, Disappear, take what’s left, and burn it Let the fire, clear what’s left, of this Why do I always have to lose sleep, over thoughts that never seem to cease I want to break down everything that we’ve made, I want to take back everything that I gave, I want to make sure you’re alone in your grave, just like, I will be I will turn this into nothing, it all just turns to nothing, we all return to nothing Take this brain, until the thoughts have faded away, all I have to do is pray When will I ever outlive the past, when will I ever be let go of its grasp, I want to gain back some sort of control, I want to add your life to my toll, I’m sick of this living disease, you’re a storm and I’m just a breeze, but you’re too busy for all of these pleas, I guess this is life and these are the fees. Jake Grieco 17
Our Time is Here Leadership is lacking Corruption is here The city is falling Its death is near Wars are waged Blood is spilled Everyone caged Nothing stilled Some are scared Most are dead No one cared The streets turned red Life is cruel Death is late Don’t be a fool Your time is great Clock is broken Doomsday is near The beast has woken Our time is here Nora Vonder Meulen
I Once Met a Man I once met a man on the top of the world Who told me to dance to the beat of my heart So I grabbed his hand and together we twirled And I dreamed that we’d never drift apart. I once met a man in the dark of the sea Who told me to float to the ends of the earth As I began to drift I felt utterly free So I realized that this would be my rebirth. I once met a man in endless space Who told me to dream of every star So I conjured thoughts of their amazing grace And thanked him for leading me thus far. I once met a man who taught me to live Then stole it away when he never returned He taught me to take, and taught me to give But now my heart is forever upturned. Nina De Salvo 18
The Monkey Man His shoes, Picking up the road’s dirt with speed, Were tattered, yet shinedIt was apparent that effort was put forth To keep them appropriate for all probable weather. That was the only aspect, in fact, That was in accordance with his title’s species: He was well groomed and kept clean. His appearance was not of a chimp, Except for the occasional stubble on his fair toned chin. He didn’t act foolishly; Not a skip, hop, or grunt existed in his body, Just waiting to emerge from mass into thin air. He painted. So no one knew, Not even he, As to why he was known as the monkey man. People sometimes stopped to ask him, But he never replied. He just continued walking to his humble pace; Pencil in hand, fist in pocket. Until you could no longer see the mists of dirt, collectively surround his shoes. Puddy Wilch
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Unholy Trinity Shadow, bearer of burden Darkness, deceiver of truth Evil, bringer of torment Unholy Trinity in a sinner’s youth Strangling the good Covering over the light There will be no morals In these new children of night Crowned and Dangerous…
The sinners’ day will see no end
You crown yourself with glory, a crown which none should wear. The ones who always crown themselves are the ones who never care. If only I could tell you, Could tell you what I think. It is true when you approach me I think I’m gonna sink. I don’t know why you’re like this, but knowing you is quite the story. Of all the things I’ll tell you, take off that crown of glory.
Their days have only begun There is no stopping the spread The sinners have already won Joshua Lewis
Becca Feldkamp
The River The river today seems angry But it’s frozen at the point of disaster. In a way, You are like that River. Though you are a disaster; Never frozen and Always angry. Nora Vonder Meulen 20
I Believe. . . I believe in the dedication given to complete a task, The time spent working to reach an objective, The endless struggles standing in the way, The temptation to give up, The courage it takes to succeed, Finish, move on, win. But believing that everything comes naturally to a person is completely incorrect. I believe in effort in every strain, I believe in completing what has been started, I believe in leaders, Role models, hard workers, go-getters. And I believe that goals are meant to be accomplished. Lauren Clark A Rubik’s Cube of a Life A Switch A Turn A Flip A Change A Chance
An Emotion A Hope A Wish A Dream A Trial
An Opportunity A Fight A Challenge A Purpose A Will
A Switch A Turn A Flip A Change A Chance
A Climb A Fall A Step A Stumble A Sweat
A Rubik’s Cube of a Life
Dillon Stanfield 21
Summer is the season for a great, happy mood, even though it may be too hot to grill your favorite food. Hot, sticky, sunny, and fun are all good summer filled emotions, even though it might cause too much commotion. When I think of summer, I think of the outdoors and I wonder what could really be in store. Summer reminds me of a beach trip; where all I want to do is take a big dip. A word that comes to my mind when I think of summer is relaxed. Relaxing is a word that makes me feel calm and sincere, wondering if a good image would appear. Summer reminds me of starting a new school year, which makes me want to look at myself through a big mirror. The end of summer makes me realize the nice weather is coming to a close, and I begin to wonder, “How will the rest of the year be? How will I remember my best summer recaps and try to forget how badly I injured my left kneecap.” This summer had definitely been the absolute best, even though some of my family turned out to be some of the biggest pests. Winter is a cold, miserable, and stuck-in-the-house time, even though it may never cost a nickel and a dime. When I think of winter, I think of a lot of snow, and I’ll begin to wonder, “When will it blow over?” Winter reminds me of building many snowmen, even though many of them will fall and bend. Words that come to my mind when I think of winter are snow, low temperatures, and no school, but the word to describe that is, “O cool!” Snowy is a word that makes me feel cold, but we all know that we need to grow bold. Winter reminds me of all the fun times I’ve had when I was a little kid, which makes me realize all that I really did. The end of winter makes me realize that the cold temperatures are coming to an end; the spring is now what is being sent. How will I remember my best memories with the white snow, and trying to steal the video camera’s big show? This winter hasn’t been that great even though it wasn’t that late. Spring is the season for great weather and blooming plants, but the season especially makes me want to get up and dance! Nice, warm, playful, and happy are all spring-filled feelings, well, at least they would make you feel chilling. When I think of spring I think of the outdoors and wondering what the weather will have in store. Spring reminds me of all the time I spend on the porch, even though I play a lot of sports. Words that come to my mind when I think of spring are fun filled and joy because we get to play with our favorite toys. Joy is a word that means happy and makes me think of the times when I was very yappy. The end of spring makes me realize that I don’t have a lot time left until graduation. How will I remember running and playing in my big backyard if I don’t take a picture and put it on the front of a card? This spring has definitely been fun in the sun! Fall is the season for falling leaves and wonderful weather which has made me realize the most wonderful time of the year. Falling leaves, running, jumping, and a new start remind me of the fall, even though I often went to the local mall. Fall reminds me of going outdoors and really finding out what is in store. A word that comes to my mind when I think of fall is warm and all of the bees that come along in a big swarm. The end of fall makes me realize everything good is coming to the end, even though the cold weather might not bend. How will I remember the fall times even though every minute is worth more than a dime? This fall had definitely been one of a kind even though I felt like the summer was all entirely mine. Jessica Murphy
22
She walks in stumbling as she tried to be discreet. As she turns from closing the door all too awkwardly she sees him peering at her from across the nearly blackened abyss of a room that was their living room. She stops where she stands and looks down at her now swollen feet for a fraction of a second, not wanting to face defeat. Then she looks up at him, meeting his unbroken, unreadable gaze he has fixed on her. Where have you been? He said. I been out drinkin’. She said. He can see the guilt in her eyes every time she looks up at him. He can hear the fear as she tries to keep an even tone while she gives him the bare minimum information possible. Her answers are short, her pride is shaken, and her actions were impure. He can tell all of this by the four words she has said. Bet he’s going to play her game for a while, test her dedication, her devotion, her loyalty. With who? He said. Obviously not you She said. She trips over the few syllables she can manage to squeak out of her aching, tired body. She knew the minute she entered the house she’d lost. Why had she come home? She shook in her shoes, voice trembling, head aching, mind racing. She was still unable to read his reactions from across the room. Lucky for her, he gets up and starts the walk across the room. His steps are heavy as he strides across the old, empty-in-soul house. Each step echoes throughout her body like a gun firing many, multiple times. She is the only one who can hear it. But with every inch he comes nearer to her, her heartbeat speeds up. It races, pulsing though her body as if the blood surging through her raised veins is moving solely to pour out of her body. It makes her want to scream. But for what? Answer me. He said. Just let me be. She said. As he moves closer and his voice rises a couple decibels to show his emphasis, she steps back. His edge quickly deflates her defense wall. She’s vulnerable and scared. And he can tell. Should he use this to his advantage? He stops in front of her as her back slams against the door she so recently entered from. He glances at her shaking hands gripping the door knob like her lifeline, as if letting go means the end of existence. This makes him smile a little, but he quickly evaporates into his past state of being. He tried to hold his composure and muster up enough control to speak again. Not him… He said. ……….. She said. There is no more faking strength, no more pretending composure. No lying, no hiding, no nothing. She’s scared. There’s no way to escape. Gripping the door knob just in case, she trembles, trying so very hard for an answer, a noise, anything! She opens her mouth, ready to speak, but is instantly muted the second she saw his rather sarcastic, pending expression. Her heart sank and jumped at the same time. She couldn’t make sense of it. She didn’t know what to do. So she slumped down to the floor in panic, terror, defeat, tears, and humiliation. As she slid down the hard, wooden door, he caught her. But not by the arm. And not out of affection, care, or adoration. Him?! He said. ……… She said. Her now sparkling face was in his cold, massive hands, as though they were the only thing suspending her from collapsing into a heap of pitiful despair. Crushed, even though she would never actually admit to the treachery, he shakes her beautiful, red face in his hands once more. She is screaming, sobbing. He drops his hold on her and steps back, trying to pull himself together as if he were the one crying hysterically. The second he lets go, she sinks into a mass of being in front of the door. He cannot stand to see her like this. He takes a step towards her, but immediately backs off, recalling why she is so distorted in the first place. This is what she deserves after what she did. This is the very least she deserves after what she put him through. He knew it all along. He had to sit through the agonizing pain the truth would bring all night while she was out, his name not even so much as registering in her mind. This was only fair to get to see her fall. How could you? He said. …..I’m sorry. She said. For once her intellect, her natural fluency, her brain, her heart, her everything was failing her. She didn’t know what to do, or say, or feel. Should she cry, or beg, or fight? She knew fighting couldn’t save her sorry ass. Not this time. She just stares, as in amazement, at the dark, shadowy figure towering over her. She felt like a little child about to be corrected by an adult authority. She knows she deserves it. So she looks up at him, meets his gaze through her damp, blurry eyes, and braces herself for what’s about to come from his raging fury with her. He has every right to be furious, more than furious with her. So she waits, just holding his stare for what seems like an eternity. Slowly, he crouches down to eye level. He is two inches from her face, muscles are tense, and body is firm. I love you. He said. W-w-what? She said. He knows he has been defeated once again, but he can’t help himself. He knows there is nothing she could do that could alter or shake his perpetual love for her. He is hers for the taking and there’s no way out. As he takes her by the hand, she takes him by the heart. Love is a one way street and there’s no turning back now. But that’s just fine with him! Natalie Grever
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Alone Dark heart With a dark mind
Rocket Man Oh Rocket Man, dear Rocket Man Do not give up for the battle has just begun
Dare to look at the cook
Do not give in for the war is almost won
Who creates evil times
Let your skills take the floor
In these times you will find
As your body walks through the door
Nothing but empty space Nothing here that is so weird
Oh Rocket Man, dear Rocket Man
Why doesn’t anyone see this as wrong -Luke Bartel
The time has almost come The fear of failing will be overcome As the crowd shows all its pride You take your first stride “This game won’t be easy,” says the Rocket Man But, facing it alone was not the plan Oh Rocket Man, dear Rocket Man We strike as one Do not give up for the battle has just begun Do not give in for the war is almost won. Rachele DeLuca
I walk these darkened streets alone, Waiting for the day my beloved, Brings the sun to shine. Tony Losekamp
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Forever and Never
Responsibility
As memories fade away Everything falls apart,
My mom says I’m irresponsible,
The pain boils beneath me There is no safe place for us.
But this cannot be possible, Because I work hard every day,
I just can’t hide it But you take my breath away,
Staying at school for a whole day, Forever in despair Because with me you would not stay.
Getting grades and doing football,
Forever and ever Forever and never
And it can be a major haul,
I’ve lost you.
But now I am wiser and older,
Evan Rechtin And hopefully she knows that her Baby boy is a man now, And his head isn’t in the clouds, Anymore like it used to be, Because now he is free, And is responsible, If that was even possible. Richard Rogers
Courage Talking to you is a do or die I can’t seem to get you out of my mind My secret admiration is from afar But your acknowledgment is what I wish on my star When my heart starts to race, I know you are near My strength is then overpowered by fear I will work up the courage soon enough I will get strong, I will get tough Because one day we will dance Heart to heart hands to hands Courtney Lindsay 25
Looking at her one might sigh and look away Your eyes averted, not knowing what to say Some say that her soul makes her strong, Singing a fine, cute, and happy song No one can see the turmoil all around A mass of rain dripping, pouring down She lets no one see her cry, She cannot stand them asking why But why should she smile all the time What makes her life so nice and fine? She’s had her troubles and her strife, No one would want to trade for her life. Striving for perfection in everything Bringing all that she can possibly bring So when you say she’s a know-it-all Someone who just can’t stand to fall Next time ask yourself why that may be, Why she strives so heartily What else has she got on her side? Friends who are often cruel and snide? Or maybe the fact that no one is there She cries her tears in a worn teddy bear. Who can she confide in, who indeed? No one comes in her time of need. She smiles and just goes along Trying to convince herself she’s strong. So next time you see this act, Don’t take what you see as a fact. This façade won’t last evermore There’s too much pain for her to store.
Question Mark To be or not to be? Is that really the question? To do or not to do? Does it really make a difference? To see, to hear, Will it make you believe; In the things that aren’t noticed, The things that stay unseen? If you take a second to listen to The things that are unsaid, Will it make you wonder? Create twisters in your head? If you believe in something does it mean it’s truly real? Can some person honestly question the feelings that you feel? So, be or don’t be. Do or don’t do. No one else can decide. It’s really just up to you. Kerry Morrow
Allison Ecker 26
Answers Where do I go to find the answers? The questions I have stuck in my head written on small pieces of paper flying around looking for a place to stay filed in a part of my brain rotting away waiting patiently but going astray jumping up at every fancy array asking the others of a secret cache waiting for the end of the dull school day then burning them all into ashes. Forgetting the questions that pester me. Until they come back again in a roaring wave of information not waiting to be ignored or forgotten but finding salvation by putting pressure on me and never relenting reminding me of my procrastination until I find an opportunity for them to be answered George Tabet Life’s Meaning What is the meaning of life? Is it as simple as saying good morning or asking for the time? Life can’t be that simple, but rather it’s a mix of colors, Green, red, blue, white, black, yellow. Trying to add certain colors together to make sense out of the chaos. Life is full of forbidden thoughts and secret desires, like cliff diving or base-jumping. The mix of colors form strange images and dreams in my mind, Dancing and swirling before my eyes. Memories allow us to hold onto the past, while dreams allow us To see a glimpse of the future. The simplest tasks of life, like eating and waking up, Seem mundane and boring. Life is defined by our possessions whether simple like a teddy bear Or complicated like sparkly blue high tops. So, what is the meaning of life? Is it based on asking questions? Or the people we meet in the past, present or future? Life is made of pain, physical and emotional; Headaches and heartbreak. So I ask again, what is the meaning of life? Carrie Martin
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One Day More Don’t stare at that old grandfather clock anymore, dear, because your eyes are becoming gold-lined circles with numbers inked black in a rush of ticking metallic death, beauty going tick-tock until age creeps up like an evil shadow. Your hair will dissipate into a warm snow, and your freckles will drop into hardship spots. Your eyes will fade into the cold and be as one-layered as a cake, and then they’ll just disappear, and those scars might never heal. You won’t run through the fields anymore because the fields will be as dead as you; sullen gray with ends split and grass pale black like little charcoal sprinkles. Maybe they’ll go over those one-layer eyes that are just coming up. The skies will cry all day, and you’ll be standing in its tears, trying to be young again. But being young never returns to you. It’ll just be pneumonia punching at your lungs. Your skin will bruise like leopard spots against your anemic skin; you’ll be whiter than the snow. Your bones will ache and moan about how their age just keeps on passing, urging to just stop the journey if even for a moment, but you won’t stop, because that shadow is close behind you. But you won’t let it catch you, will you? Every moment you continue to stare at that clock, my eyes haze one closer to that shadow, and I just sit and wait for it to come. Wait, wait, for death to tick-tock my life’s layers away.
Hannah Klump
Sarah. She is sunshine. A smile because it’s Monday. A laugh because she loves life. A hug because she can.
She is beauty. Radiant because she is loved. Perfect because she is unique. Special because of the goodness in her soul.
She is excitement. Happy because you said, “Hi.” Ecstatic because of a good song. Joyous because of Jane Austen.
She is friendship. Loyal because you trust her. Supportive because she believes in you. Loving because she can’t stop.
She is comfort. Advice because you’re confused. A shoulder because you need one. Silence because she knows you better than you know yourself.
Anna Bloemer
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Inside the Mind of a Lost One So which road now? I am undone, too close to the edge. I cannot turn around; flying solo in the empty world. I put myself here. But, which road now? I’m blind to the path ahead. Unspoken Emotions
These roads are fading to darkness, Soon I won’t see behind the wall.
When in the chronicle of wasted time
I lack the strength to take a step,
I see descriptions of undisplayed dreams
A step into the un-known. These roads are fading quicker.
And beauty in silenced wishes of mine, In praise of the one like a flowing stream. And on the blazon of my heart’s floodgate,
When darkness catches me, will I hide?
A hand, a foot, a lip, an eye, a brow,
I will already have vanished.
I see a new engraving that can’t wait.
Can I find the courage?
Such an etching to be recognized now.
I lost it, along with change.
So all their praises of others can’t tell, Of this our time, where all happiness lies;
Can you help me search? I seem to have misplaced myself.
And, for they do not know where ardor dwells, They cannot truly know how to advise.
So which road am I headed?
For we, though two souls earthly divided,
Which road should I follow?
Have eyes that unite, looks love has guided.
Which road will I choose? Sarah E. Hayes (modeling Shakespeare’s “Sonnet 29”)
Tess Webb
29
Ode to Chickamauga Eyes alight in the fire tonightwhile ash and smoke clog the throat, fingers curled tight won’t win the fight nor stop the bite of this endless light. Down go the beams out come the screams and the broken dreams seem to darken the sky as a child would cry if the child could speak but nothing will leak from one so meek nor his box, too weak to utter a sound which’ll make him found by the enemy bound to kill them allto force men to fall and to end the brawl. But little would that hurt a child in dirt caught by a spurt of hellish fire which brought him to perspire and wait for the dire, the danger, the pain, and the glory that came to those just slain but no one would come for one deft and dumb child stuck numb in a forestry slum of decaying earth
that had once given birth to a nation so proud now crammed in a crowd that screams too loud and reeks of hate which in turn spun the fate meant to decimate this child of late. So gone are the moans and here are the bones which are all that is left of the dumb and the deft. Audrey Trauth
Summer Fun What is this sport that’s been loved so long by people passing secrets of the trade from father to son, marking the arrival of summer for the past hundred years, showing us flashes of green and brown through a dizzying cloud of summer heat? Perfected by a man named Spalding whose name graced the ball they throw and whose league still exists where he left it. Overshadowed by two great coast lines in the middle of a valley sparsely populated which now has bears, scalawags, astronauts red birds and communists. His rules have changed but slightly, once by a great black cardinal who lowered the hallowed mound upon which he flew off. Stopped only by a Great Red Machine which was destroyed by the ebb and flow of time like everything else before it, but for those who watch and wait for next year.
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George Tabet
Sputter out Emitting a final Hiss Before total Disintegration And dispersions Through Kaleidoscopic Tail-lights. 7 billion people But only one for me? Not likely. Fly through A hideous planet Over lizard Orgies To Strains of dead Poets, “Break on through
To the other side” If only And vengeful Republican smear campaigns Blame their Mess On the maid While a left-side Scramble for Change at the Cost of sense Leaves once-believers Cynical and dying Keep me alive With tubes And wires Just so you Can look At me
It’s enough to see, If not To feel I float Into purple dreams Of Morrison and car crashes And I think of your face. Give me a place to stay But the man with No eyes can’t hear me There’s never room at the inn. I wish the feeling was mutual. J.T. Weir
Who is to blame for the blood that isn’t mine? Is it me who, through the first blow, became blind? I spoke the words that led on to madness yet, You are the one who lost your mind and your head. I knew what I was doing. Did you ever wonder if I was calculating? I knew what I was doing. Did you ever think I was patiently waiting? Who is at fault for the good blood you lost? Is it my fault if I’m never proven guilty for the cost? I spoke and you listened but you heard the wrong syllables. You are the one that made everything change from what was simple. I knew what I was doing. Did you ever see that strength in me? I knew what I was doing. Did you ever think I could make it be? Who is in charge of judging me if not you or a god? Is it your word against mine even though you’ve fallen? I spoke but that made no alliance through communication. You are the one who asked. Now you’re the one they lost faith in. I knew what I was doing. Did you ever wonder if I would revolt? I knew what I was doing. Did you ever think? I bet you don’t.
Darren West 31
Matthew 26: 31-46 Staring out at this Empty galaxy I slowly collect the pieces of myself Fractured and bloody Strewn across solar systems Dripping with the common sense I’ve gathered over years of not listening To a single word you say If I ever met you, I’d nail you to the post again, To make up for all the lives you’ve wrecked Break your back for every sense of self-worth you’ve torn apart Kick you for every nose you’ve turned up Gouge you for all the blind eyes you’ve turned Your very essence is misdirection, Confusion Fear Deceit. I cannot allow such an entity to continue wreaking its perfect Divine Chaos upon me. So I call out, Panic gripping my abdomen, Shrieking, screaming, yelling out for anyone with power greater than I. I am desperate. And the stars Galaxies Universes Dimensions All begin to come together, Working together to Finally rid this Hollow Barren Planet Of you. They breathe together in perfect harmony, And I find solace in knowing that even they know You are nothing But a Plague.
Forgotten Thirty seconds of terror known by thousands of souls, lost simultaneously. Summed up by a news report many miles away. This made life harder for you, an already hard life forgotten by the world, scorned by the western hemisphere ignoring the unison cry of thousands. O elegant port in the Caribbean where your beautiful trees sway softly in the breeze with a chill from the water that surrounds your island paradise that put you on the map. And almost took you off. George Tabet
Shane Sullivan
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Melting Time
Farewell
Life is odd, is it not? How time flies is no lie. A year seems an eternity, But a lifetime is a mere moment of history. You think you’re running in circles. No luck for you it seems. “There is no one out there for me,” you say, “Eighteen years and no luck at all”. So untrue, I think to myself. Such a small speck of time for such an assignment. Give Time but a minute And Time will reward you with years. Life is indeed snow; Enjoy it while you can Or it will melt to the ground untouched. You can’t rush Time. Its feelings are unaltered by human desire. So go outside, get in the snow Before it’s gone And you regret what was left undone. You will make it. I have no doubt. Believe in Time And you will be rewarded.
Goodbye dear friend, no longer shall we spend endless hours pining late, for those sorry sisters of fate have split our trust in two leaving us but a few moments to hold dear as that tip-toeing time creeps near. So here I’ll fix your face in my most precious of place that never will from me flee a memory I seek to see and conjure will I the sight of you who defy, deny, and despise the great glory of eyes which now haunt the Street, with their multitude of feet and roving glares, filled full with too few stairs and quickly, crammed tight in one furious flight;
Becca Feldkamp
while you, with state, do stand as one allowed resolute command. After you, my heart will yearn for never shall I learn to wash you away nor forget this gray-grimed day. But now our time has fled so lastly, let it be said: It is you, I wish to commend As we march on to the end. Audrey Trauth
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Harmony Through the thick smog wreathed about the ruins of the city, Brecca could just see the perfectly intact sanctuary of the hospital. It was the only building not half-obliterated, due to international war laws. If not for feeble legal protection, it would surely be a pile of bricks and bomb shells like anything else. Brecca never understood why the words of some elite politicians should stop anyone from just doing what the hell they wanted to that hospital. It’s not as though any repercussions for law-breaking would even be possible anymore. Governments and national borders hardly existed, much less any justice systems. Civilians didn’t even know what this war fest was about anymore—who were we fighting, and what for? And, hell, who were “we?” Brecca decided to sweep such thoughts into a brain-matter corner and instead luxuriated in the stale candy taste of the chewing tobacco that slid around his tongue, breathing in deeply the scents of sulfur, smoke, decay, and the pitiful state of humanity that had infiltrated this urban hub. Hmm. Scratch that. Any type of creature that could so destroy its race deserved no pity. Heavily, Brecca sighed as he paused a few meters from the hospital, staring up at its gray, smoke-stained hulk against the yellowed sky. Somewhere in the distance, amongst the noises of helicopters and shouts, the pathetic cries of an infant, probably ravaged by malnourishment, were suddenly distinguishable. “I know what you mean.” Brecca shuffled toward the doors, entering with shoulders slouched. Inside was so different than out that Brecca had to pause a moment and adjust, as though he had walked from a very dark room to one very bright. The smells of smoke and sulfur just barely permeated into the hospital; mostly this was the reigning territory of chemical and blood aromas. The walls, much like Brecca’s hair, were delicately frosted with soot and ash. Desperately, a tottering old janitor with colossal spectacles was mopping the dirtied tiles near the reception desk. Nurses and doctors flitted hectically to and fro, like starving hummingbirds from nectar-filled blossom to nectar-filled blossom, and Brecca watched them scurry, hands filled with papers and syringes and drugs, stethoscopes bouncing off their chests at every jolting step, purple moons imprinted on the soft skin beneath their terrified, anxious eyes. Brecca plodded toward the trash can and nodded at the janitor, whose face remained expressionless as a block of marble about to be carved, and Brecca spit the tobacco from his mouth into the trash can. With deliberation, he continued to the staircase at the end of one chaotic corridor and slowly stomped up it. Emerging on the third floor, he immediately proceeded down the hall, to the right, then straight for a ways, where he stopped for a moment outside room 326. The board outside the door still had the name of the previous occupant scribbled on it: Christophe Randall. Christophe had died of shrapnel shards in his stomach. He had been unable to receive surgery in time. Harmony had been in the room for a week, but apparently Christophe Randall’s ghost refused to leave. Brecca watched a man down the hall walk out of his room with the assistance of a nurse and promptly vomit. Liquid orange and yellow bile splattered to the floor and up onto the nurse, who did nothing but half-drag the patient down the hall. She didn’t even flinch. Opening the door quietly as a girlish scream sounded from somewhere nearby, Brecca gazed into the darkened room. The blinds were closed, and through the slits peeked smoggy daylight, desperate for some repose. In one corner of the room was a bureau, on top of which stood a family photograph with a cracked plastic
34
frame and a vase full of withering daisies and brownish water. Near the bureau was the door to the bathroom, a tiny alcove with a bathtub, toilet, and sink. And in the middle of the room was a large bed with an excess of blankets, surrounded by sentinel monitors. One displayed the steady soldier-march heartbeat with thin jagged lines, emitting beeps slowly in time like a metronome. IVs filled with various colorful liquids formed a cold, stiff forest through which Brecca could just see his son. He was lying on his back. The tubes protruding from his bony arms looked like extra limbs, so he seemed a mutant. White gauze encircled his forehead like a drooping, battle-stained ninja headband. Patches of bandages dotted his cheeks, his jaws, his arms, his unseen legs and torso and back. His hair, a faded bleach color, spread about the pillow, clumpy and matted with night-sweats past. And his eyes. They were once a shimmering sea shade, vibrant, flashing and restless, beautiful, beautiful. But now they were half-open, curtained by lashes, and dull, dull, dull. Brecca stepped in and closed the door; it made a faint click. Suddenly he was aware of the rough sounds of his breath, the squeak of his bedraggled Sunday shoes, the feel of his ash-coated clothing sticking to his skin, his hair falling as cloud wisps against his forehead, the scent of blood that shivered into his nostrils, his pulse beneath the fingers so tightly clenched. Rigidly, Harmony turned his head, barely, eyes opening. Brecca forced a tasteless smile to his face. “Hey, son. How are you feeling?” Gently, softly, strained. Harmony feebly smiled, a whisper of upturned lips. “Dad,” he forced through his wired jaws, and that was all. Brecca strolled to the bed, placed his hand on the thin one that was laying spread and cold. Subtly, he scrutinized the pale and fragile butterfly form of his broken toy soldier child. He carefully moved the dirty bangs from the forehead, fingers touching lightly against the tattered bandages that lay loosely there. “How was your night last night, kiddo? You sleep okay?” Harmony nodded slightly, eyes fixated with an undeterminable mix of adoration and pain on Brecca. The blue orbs were slightly glazed in a fever. “They still treating you all right?” Nothing but a trembling nod, a twitch of the hand. Brecca squeezed the cold fingers lightly. “Kiddo, when was the last time they gave you a bath, huh?” Harmony’s dry lips parted a crack, and he peeped hoarsely until, at last, coherent words stretched themselves. “I…don’t know… Uh…once…” “Once? What do you—what? They only gave you a bath once?” Harmony nodded again. “Once? Are you kidding? For God’s sake! I know there’s a water ration, but still! Ah, for…for God’s sake…” Brecca examined the brownish bandages covering his child’s body and wondered when the last time was that they were redressed. Sighing with exasperation, he glanced toward the bathroom and back at his son.
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“Buddy, what do you say I give you a bath, hm?” The teen squirmed a bit, moved his head, flexed his fingers, but the mouth made no movement. “Is that okay?” Once again, the child nodded, and Brecca returned the gesture. Standing, he moved to the IVs and monitors safeguarding the bed and began gently removing tubes and the like, before placing plastic patches overtop the IV hubs that speckled his boy. Next he knelt by the bed and began working off the gauze and bandages gently, starting with the head and arms before sliding the many blankets off Harmony’s twig legs and peeling the bandages from them. His left leg was a raw mass of gashes veneered with a thin layer of yellowish pus, so wounded and infected due to shrapnel being urgently scraped from his skin. At last Brecca stood and wiped his hands on his dusty jeans, depositing the last of the bloody pieces of bandage onto the bedside table. “Okay, buddy, let’s get you sitting up so we can take the gauze off your back…” Brecca slid his hands underneath the boy’s thin shoulders—his body was like glass to the touch, cold and so easily breakable. Cautiously Harmony raised himself, with his father’s help, grunting and groaning through his clamped and tender jaws. The boy’s tired body, stiff and heavy, sat slumped as Brecca pulled Harmony’s hospital gown off and dropped it on the floor, then proceeded to unravel the many bandages layered on the scratched and gashed back and torso. Finally, after the used dressings pile had doubled in size, the haggard man stood and seized his son’s hands, half the size of his own. “Come on, little buddy.” Harmony maneuvered his board-stiff legs to the side of the bed and dropped his bare feet onto the frigid tiles of the hospital room. Slowly he was able, with his father’s aid, to stand, attired only in a pair of boxers that he’d been wearing for a few days. Harmony limped to the bathroom at the pace of an injured turtle, leaning heavily on his father, whose steady hands lovingly cradled the sides of his son’s body. At last the duo were side-by-side with the bathtub in the dying fluorescent light of the bathroom. Brecca left Harmony to lean against the counter, swaying, while the man squatted next to the bathtub and cranked on the faucet, stopping up the plug. Icy, murky water dribbled out into the tub sluggishly; the splashing sounds, though weak, were abrupt and harsh in the semi-tranquility of the tiny bathroom. As the water level and temperature began rising, Brecca turned and helped Harmony pull off his ragged boxers before grabbing the boy’s hands and lowering his naked, sore body into the tub. Harmony groaned pitifully, choking on the pained grunts that struggled to get past the wires and pins that so tightly fastened his teeth together. The older man picked up a ratty washcloth from the counter and rubbed the wetted soap against it before shutting off the water flow. Soft waves lapped with the sounds of splashing against the sides of the tub as Harmony shifted every so often, adjusting and readjusting his position in the brownish waters. With extraordinary tenderness, Brecca began massaging the tense and tiny arms of his son, endeavoring fiercely to ignore Harmony’s pathetic moans, and slowly Brecca worked the soap through the old layers of sweat, dirt, and blood. Eventually he moved on to the scraped up torso, stroking in gentle circles the damaged skin. He cupped his hands and poured water over Harmony’s arms and chest, rubbing them softly, delicately, as if he were handling a rose that was about to lose its petals. Stenches of dirt, rot, and body odor mingled unpleasantly in the cool air, but Brecca did not take much notice as he proceeded in his work, listening to the hums of planes and choppers outside the hospital.
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Next Brecca dipped his hands into the water to massage clean his son’s right leg and foot, and he paused before starting in on the left one. He had only been working on it for a few instants before Harmony lifted his stone-heavy hands and pushed at his father’s arms. “No,” he breathed. “Damn it, that hurts.” The boy’s eyes shined with more than fever now, but Brecca shook his head. “These wounds need to be cleaned, buddy.” Harmony resisted no more; he sat unmoving throughout the process now, more rigid and crooked-backed than ever. Finally his father finished and swished water over the legs, rinsing them with the dirty, shallow mess before saying, “Lean forward for me. I’ve got to clean your back.” Harmony’s scratched and sliced back was tender and bloody like raw meat, but his muscles were like dented and bent steel rods running under his skin. Harmony slowly draped his aching arms around his father’s shoulders, leaning forward and resting his head against the man’s neck, soaking the thin shirt as he allowed himself to be held up by his father while the man washed him. Brecca slowly, slowly made circles on the injured back, then moved water over it to rinse; and he paused, staring down at the very broken child in his arms. For a moment, he did not move; then he kissed the sweat-stained hair and pushed the body back. Brecca put the washcloth aside and grabbed the shampoo, which he used sparingly in the boy’s hair, scrubbing the scalp with short fingernails, hoping the lice were gone. He rinsed out the shampoo as best he could, turning on the faucet again and instructing Harmony to place his head beneath it. Finally Brecca unstopped the plug, and the water disappeared with a slight sucking sound down the drain. Standing, his old and tired bones crackling, Brecca grabbed the dog-eared towel from the countertop and handed it to his son. “Here you go. Dry off while I go get you some fresh underwear and another hospital gown.” Once Harmony was dried and dressed, his father assisted him back to the bed and started redressing his wounds. He came to the left leg last, for it was the worst, and from his breast pocket Brecca pulled a small flask. He plucked some cotton balls from the tray on the bedside table, buried beneath the old bandages, and carefully doused them, then proceeded to rub the alcohol into Harmony’s leg wounds. The boy’s breath strained out in hisses. “These are getting infected,” Brecca informed him, not lifting his eyes to his son’s face. “And this is all I’ve got to clean them with…” When he finished, he redressed the wounds and helped his boy lay back down, once more on his back. Harmony said nothing, but watched as his father produced another faux smile. Brecca strolled casually toward the window, commenting about allowing more light in the dim room, and he peered out into the yellow and gray world, the downpour of ashes, the hell-fire explosions on the horizon. The flask was still in his hand, and now he reopened it and brought it to his chapped lips, relishing in the sweet, stinging taste. A small bit of it dribbled down his chin and mingled delicately with the thin tears that crept down his cheeks. Jenny Severyn
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Horrible Attempt at a British Accent
In the End
My body’s lyrical Every scar mocks your miracle My veins know what to say Your friends will all decay Living is too quiet if you aren’t betrayed Icicles turn into tears Happiness diluted fears Everything I have to touch My heart is solid dust Pages turn into brains Alive and well or just insane
Our world isn’t as it once was when I had lived, A man isn’t made by how He dies, but rather than What he had accomplished. As I look back, my life Wasn’t filled with any such honors, Never did well in school, Always giving up on what I started, Wasn’t able to be there when My friends needed me most, Hell, I couldn’t even think straight if My life depended on it, Compared to what my friends Were able to do and what I couldn’t do. I wish I could have died With a smile on my face And live the life without any regrets. I thought I could change This world, end all its pain, But in the end all I could do Was nothing, I couldn’t Even change myself, nor could I watch my own son grow up.
My body’s lyrical My heart is spherical And it will never end Beating is just a trend Words made out of solid skin Bars put up from venial sin We all just crave control Hang our flag from every pole What is it we’re made of I wear you like leather gloves My Body’s lyrical And thanks for that miracle Wish I had known to ask Drink your blood from a flask Then will we still be saved Wonderful yet still enslaved Free pain but still in chains Walking free with locks on feet Quiet now we must be meek Don’t look away from what you seek Grow your body into mine Grab the clock to have the time This will all be over soon You were saved at high noon Bow down acknowledge grace Just don’t look it in the face Jake Grieco
Racing through the crowded street, Nothing but a goal and an end in mind, Time wasn’t an issue, nor was it The endless silence as he ran along with A timeless stride, almost as if a Likeness of a long going ride, ever NonStopping for a quick breather, nor for The restful breezes that wither through His hair, all with the goal in sine. 38
Brian Burke
Force-fed Confessions Offer me begrudging Peace Of mind Of heart But not Of soul Soul, still searching For benevolent Company To break Monotonous Loneliness Soul, Doomed, perhaps? To wander for Lifetimes Over fields
Of deceased emotions Soul, Believing but afraid That the Vicious cycle Of wanting, Wanting, Gone Is about to repeat. Another year wasted? Why not. Cheers.
J.T. Weir
Simplicity Have you ever? Have you ever seen the world? Ever seen the world, seen the beauty, all of creation at its very best? Have you ever felt love? Felt love from heaven above? Have you ever truly prayed, taken time out of your day and prayed, in your own special way… Have you ever felt a rush? Felt a rush of risk, gush, A gush of adrenaline and life or death, never hesitate to take a breath, do it with your best friend Seth, and ask… Have you ever seen simplicity? Simplicity that’s usually, Usually something you just pass on by, with no real rhyme or reason why, you don’t notice and you don’t deny, but… Have you ever laughed so hard? So hard you fell right over in a yard? In a yard where you lay on the cool grass, wishing time would never have to pass, as you laugh like you’re on laughing gas, and wonder… Have you ever had one of those friends? Those friends you always tend, Tend to share a lot, share a tater tot, eat with at the Melting Pot, soak up the sun’s rays, burning hot, if so… You have lived life so full, Full without a peer pressure pull, A pull of doing what others say, wasting yet another precious day, realize it’s really May, and you think… How’d I ever graduate, Graduate and earn a new, clean slate, A slate that really can’t wait to fill up like a dinner plate, with anticipation of a first date, and make your life great. Have you ever? Maggie Daly
39
I wish My Latest Fling Her Smile, laugh, and the way her nose Wrinkled when I tickled her. Beguiled, I belly your breath beneath That’s what I thought about when the bullet Pierced my chest in a blur. The stinging in my arms, legs, and my heart, clutching close the lingering honey Everywhere else would subside. I wish I could tell my wife I love her And wake up by her side. of your liquefied lips and teasing teeth. I wish I could take back all the arguments I had with my dad. I wish I could sit in my mom’s lap and You, my match unmatched have overpowered me, Steal her coffee like I had. I wish I could tell my best friend from high I am weak to your will and gladly so School that he inspired me. I wish I could hold my future daughter and bounce her on my knee. for you lead us forth in perfect cadence. I wish I could help my brother fix up his New car and be there for him. I wish I wouldn’t have judged so many people Obstacles fall as we conquer all foe And instead, gone out on a limb. I wish I went to church with my family instead Of just sleeping in. and a crowd looks on in awe and suspense I wish I would’ve been an overprotective brother for My little sister like I should’ve been. I wish I could go home to say “I’m sorry” and as we two-step touch in a fire current, Once again, relive it all. I wish I could take everything back so I Wouldn’t have to take this fall. a twist carved in love and blithe symmetry Lea Cooper with a sincerity I rarely meant yet with this tune and mate it set me free. So state may I, you are my latest fling and thank thee, shall I, for being my darling. Audrey Trauth
40
HOPE FOR HAITI On January 12, 2010, a massive earthquake ripped through Haiti. Estimates placed the total number affected by the quake and the resultant aftershocks at 3 million.
In the
weeks following this tragedy, AP English classes composed Poems of Hope for Haiti. These poems cover a range of styles and subjects, but their message is the same: hope, often the last thing we have left in the face of crisis, will always overcome. J.T. Weir Two instincts within us war: One compelled by self-preservation, The other by compassion. The first directs us look into the sun And bids us stare until we are Blinded. The second impulses us not to be blinded by the sun, But, rather, to have our way lighted by it, To use the light to See. And when we look around, We see what we perhaps would like to ignore or disbelieve – Injustice, fear, suffering – But nonetheless, we feel something. We feel a connection to our fellow beings; We feel a pain; We feel a desire; We feel compassion.
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But If we allow victory to our second instinct – then So what? Compassion is beautiful ... but alone, It is nothing. It must be energized into existence, Enlivened and breathed into, By hope; For hope, in its optimism, Its affirmation, and its wisdom, Gives purpose and ability And mobility to compassion. Compassion on its own is a mere emotion, But coupled with hope, it is action. It is love.
Jenny Severyn
We Find Hope Through the darkness and despair, desolate as a cold rainy night, We find hope. Through the destruction of families, facilities, and futures, We find hope. Through the wreckage and the turmoil, the suffering and the pain, We find hope. Through the havoc wreaked on a place so trapped in poverty, Without money or resources to repair their broken nation, We find hope. We find hope in the eyes of those helping to heal the wounded. We find hope in the hands of those clearing the wreckage and ruins. We find hope in the faces of those determined to keep their lives going Even when all they have ever known is gone. We find hope in the children who will rise from this disaster strong in mind, body, and heart. We find hope in the promise of a brighter tomorrow, a stronger future, And the unconditional love that surrounds Haiti. Emily Bradley Please, don’t give up hope Though it doesn’t seem like it, there will be a tomorrow. The people of Haiti are strong and can cope Though they have been dealt a thundering blow. Just like Katrina after the storm They are going to re-grow. Things eventually will return to the norm. So please people, don’t give up hope. Just like Sri Lanka after the wave, Haiti will rise from the rubble. For the Haitian people are very brave. Their spirits are high, maybe even double. Just like New York after the two crashes, Haiti is going to rise from the ashes. Everyone can help, everyone can make a difference. This is certainly no time to mope Please people, just have a little hope.
People When the very earth is wounded, People become our rocks. While there are things beyond our control, People manage to adapt to them. When the darkness is as a blanket, People bear the light. When ground offers no solutions People look to the sky. When loved ones fall, People lift them up. When our souls feel famished People donate to fill And when hope seems lost, People create it all anew For we are all just people – For all people that is what we can do. Lauren Bridges
Austen Leach
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Reach up Pound through garbage-strewn streets Frantic footsteps Providing soundtracks To broken pictures Of crumbled Homes-turned-tombs Everything once familiar Is now a macabre Wasteland Like a bad sci-fi clichĂŠ
Haiti’s hurricane trampled its way through
And yet
And do not let your faith fall
Time has no regard
Look up! Look up! At the billowy clouds
It strides resolutely And pulls with all Its might On the sunrise Of tomorrow
The giggling bubbles of pure white
Like a rugged farmer with his plow It destroyed all that once grew But things are bad only for now One day life will flourish again Just hold yourself up tall Look up to heaven
This is a promise for down on the ground God will show all his bright light Happiness will come again
Life will go on.
Till then we will pray for you my friends Destruction and suffering Bringing first-worlds Together Sunrises over landscapes Decimated but still Beautiful A people devastated But still alive Still fighting
Just continue to look to heaven There is help he will send. Mariah Vraniak
The human spirit Beats the worst A wrathful nature Can do Again The sun rises on Graves But also Survivors J.T. Weir
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Turning Tears to Smiles
The earthquake came, and shook us all. Together we unite so Haiti won’t fall.
That which gives light from darkness
It may seem as if life is in despair,
Hope from despair
But the great power of hope is always there.
Smiles from tears (pause)
The Earth is one big family of life,
It is what it is they say
And Haiti is like the child who has fallen into strife.
One thing caused by another
The child may feel it is hard to cope,
Leading forever into the dark
But the whole family unites, delivering hope.
What cries out as you fall?
God’s grace guides us to righteousness
What brushes the dust from your shoulder?
And following his love gives us happiness.
Few see so much though
It can be seen in the hopeful eyes of the youth,
When they only look at the little
And reunited families, showing us love is the truth. The laughter, singing, and love ease the pain,
They look into the eyes of nothing Instead of the eyes of their brother.
Giving a lesson for the whole world to gain.
It is in each other we see what gives us light.
Though suffering and crisis can pull people apart,
Turns despair to hope.
We stay united when we share hope and love from our heart. Anne Kunkler
And turns tears to smiles. Austin Reid
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Today
Hopeful Haiti
Today I opened my window, Felt the sun’s warmth, saw its bright radiance. I let my eyes follow its pure beams, Lingering on my flowerbed below. There I noticed an extraordinary beauty, A dozen carnations in a perfect newborn bloom. Today the earth shook, Trees fell and people ran. Buildings came down, Dust and smoke clouded the sky. Rubble cluttered the ground. Stone and brick crushed the flowerbeds.
Through the darkness shines a light, The Earth hath cracked and brought a blight. But somehow we have survived, Through the rubble we did dive. But lo, my friends, what do I see? It is Christ and his friends who bring what we need.
Today the world came together as one, Led by the gift of a dozen carnations: Hope’s perfect newborn bloom.
They come in throngs to help and give, We are strong and with help we will live.
Kody McLaughlin
That light in the sky grows brighter every day,
Common Ground
For help and guidance we do pray.
Esperanza To persevere through the trepidation Of the unknown, clutching Not to the thundering black clouds, But to the fire rimmed gold of the nascent sun.
We rally together to make a stand,
Matumaini Lingering not on the broken glass But on the radiance of forgiveness. Smiling for the freedom to smile, Tenaciously trusting in integrity.
We are one country, we are one land. We will survive, we will rebuild, Though we will remember all who were killed. But we must keep going, the future is bright, We have weathered this storm through the long night.
Hoffnung Not cowardly crouching behind, But fighting with passionate conviction Triumphant in the truth That the calm clear sea will come again.
Christ please help us to cope, We pray for strength, faith, and hope. Austin Van Dusen
Haley Fitzpatrick 45
Nothing is Forever While the buildings fall apart The people grow together. We learn to lean on each other. Our brothers and sisters are hurting, And so we come together – one world, one family Our tears come crashing down like rain Crying for someone we never knew, But what has fallen will rise again. We are a phoenix, we are strong. From the ash and disaster rise a beautiful people. Material possessions may be destroyed or taken, But they will be replaced. Families may be separated, But like a nest of birds scattered in a storm, they will find each other. Nothing is permanent, and everything will be alright. Maggie Snyder
Hope Images of destruction fill our mind, But under the rubble I think you will find That this natural disaster is not what you see, Because our loving God is full of mercy. With the help of friends, far and near, The Haitians soon will have less to fear. When tides turn for the worse, Nations rise together to reverse the curse Of ruins, of destruction, of worries, of grief, And to help the less fortunate flip a new leaf. The world will rise up as God ultimately planned And offer to the weak a humble helping hand. Through the devastation shines a light, strong and clear, That persuades us to leave our fears in the rear. We are called to love our neighbors as ourselves once more So as to restore Haiti’s natural beauty of before. Libby Birk
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One hand
Broken Country
can hold another
Rise up, oh Broken Country, can rule a nation Toss dejection to the sea. One tree From dirt, come forth in crowds can be many homes One smile And lift past burdens to the clouds. can make another laugh Sweep away the broken glass, One sun can give light to the world Shanty shops and sunken stables now pass, One star And tear down the doors that didn’t last, can grant a wish in your heart For now, you must march and move fast – The same eighty-eight keys So take hands and hold strong, can play a thousand symphonies Keep tight in your multiplying throng One world can change the lives of many men As now, the time has descended But just one man That the days of darkness shall be ended; can change the world. For you people are awakened and come forth To descend on this withered wharf. Clare Grall Children now burst free from your fear And gather together on boat and open pier, So that gone are the chains of sorrow, Hope And to the East, rises the hope of the morrow. Audrey Trauth Hope is how we survive.
One page
We dream of better days, Of skies as blue as the Caribbean Ocean And as pure as the winter snow. Hope gives us courage and strength. It allows us to climb and overcome all that may have stopped us. Light floods our path And darkness is unheard of. Hope gives us faith, Allows us to believe. The grass will get greener And the sun shine brighter. Time moves on and Hope gives us the energy to move on too. Sarah Buhr
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Hope is the first purple flower to fearlessly push its way forth from the ground after a frozen winter, having faith in the end of perpetual ice.
We live in today; we dwell in our present. We live for tomorrow; we hope for the future. The past we know, and we shall overcome And rise like phoenix from the ashes.
Hope is the lonely, brave beam of brilliant, glowing yellow, smiling down after a hurricane.
For tomorrow shall come soon enough And Hope will always be there for us Waiting to wrap us in strength
Hope is finding the silver lining in every comer, no matter how dark and dreary the doldrums seem to be.
And clothe us in faith and love. For it is in our beliefs that we live,
Hope is thinking, is believing, is knowing that God is always present, and trusting him to carry through the rough, the turmoil, the chaos, as a mother carriers her fragile, delicate child.
Not in our past or our present. Our beliefs control our actions And our directions and our outcomes. It is in our beliefs that we shall rise above And tame our beasts and burdens.
Hope is the nation who survives, who endures, who conquers the worst, the devastating, the unthinkable and moves forward to live, to dream, to love a better day.
Our beliefs will lead to knowledge That this too will pass and as we survive, We also grow and heal and rise again. Amanda Murphy
Kathleen Hiltz
Poem of Hope My eyes opened abruptly after nightmare Surge of relief came and I gazed into the air There was cruel silence and menacing abyss; The dream in name of reality In deepest despair and dismay, I closed my eyes Suddenly, there were lights and hope There were thousands of paths In hope, I walked forward Though I did not know what is at the end But because I did not know what is at the end Eventually, I found a new path Looking back at relentless path I’ve walked New path, yet seen, gave me a new hope; The best days of life were yet to be lived Like brightest star is yet to be found. Yeonjae Hwang
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A Fresh Day
Lights and Hand-Holding
The earth trembles and brings devastation causing sorrow and grief throughout all nations.
Clasp the hand of your neighbor.
Yet the unity of love and faith Feel the warmth and the moisture against your own.
gives light through darkness and pain.
Reach a hand smaller than yours.
Talents made by the one above us
Protect and take care of it as your own.
and strength to help those among us unite across the globe with power
It’s reassuring to know someone’s there for you.
to undo such a dark hour.
Strike a match and light a candle.
Life continues and a fresh day begins
Watch it dance, flick and flit and flutter.
with support from family and friends.
Just when it seems to die out,
Support from this world so wide
It glimmers in the distance,
who may never answer questions of why but continue to search for life’s true meaning.
The light glows stronger and stronger,
I believe all of us truly know.
Until it’s gleaming like the sun. No matter how hard you try, the light remains steadfast. It’s a comfort to know it won’t be going anywhere.
Life is about caring and sharing with others, helping all people grow. Darren West
Hand-holding brings an unspoken encouragement, Letting us know it’s going to be okay. We trust the light, and fear the darkness. We trust what we can see and doubt the shadows. Clear the shadows with a match and take up a hand. Through all the tears we cry, we’ll survive. When we’re torn apart, shattered and scarred People save us by offering a hand and shoulder to cry on. Believe what has happened. Believe what has happened. Believe what will happen. Have faith.
Carrie Martin
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Hope Band together, brave souls, Hold tight to a fluttering heart, Dreams of the given dreamers stand fast, Hand in hand with a friend of the fates. He stands taller than your mountains, Laughter deeper than this here sea, Dancing in light steps, though the big man, Smiling, like a child on the day of birth morning. What is he to you, friend, companion or weary song? Those who cannot imagine without him, Sing the happiest of all songs, With the weight of the whole world still sitting upon their broken backs. Molly Dirr
I put my hope in the rising sun Poem of Hope
That braves darkness, yet brings promise
I have hope,
Like the valiant hero of a battle won.
and I have a prayer for peace.
I feel refreshed with the tingling breeze
I can feel my faith flowing through me as
That coaxes growth from barren land
I begin each day.
And turns the page as winter flees.
Today is new;
I want to bring a better world to light,
a new day for new hope to uplift and restore.
The patterns of the stars show me
Each morning I wake up to a fresh start
Their complex perfection from such a height.
with a full heart, full of hope.
I will harness the hope that they contain
Hope wraps her arms around me
And share it with those who look away
and always keeps me safe.
To turn them to promise from the mundane.
I stay with her because I believe
I can heal your pain with the warmth of my touch
in a better tomorrow.
I’ll be your heartaches and cry out the same
With hope as my guardian watching over me, I
Or simply stand by you when words bear too much.
have confidence in a new beginning. I have hope.
Erin Morrisroe
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Hannah Christmann
A Simple Remembrance in Times of Hope We look through the dusk of life. The time which extinguishes the light of day, And illuminates the uncertainty of night. Yet, we stand here confident. Unscathed by the doubt presented to us, For it is but a shadow shading us from too much assurance. We, instead, stand together like a binding force, impenetrable by despair. We adhere to hope, for it is the constant in our lives. Brothers and sisters come together, in times of need, to create it, Though it is with us always. Whenever doubt and despair perch upon our shoulder, An aura of hope will always unite them to their destiny. Instead of dwelling on their fate, We must find our own. For hope is but a resource. We are the controllers of it, and we decide our fate. Embody hope to others, And you’ll receive the repercussions. A brotherly wave of joy will pass onto you, As you decide what the outcome will be. David Sweet HOPE It is a flutter in the pit of my stomach, Barely noticeable in the chaos. I ignore it. I trudge on. On, on, on ... Through the drudgery.
It is a shock that vibrates through me Shoving me into consciousness, And I let it. And it flows through me and about me. Flows, flows, flows ... Past the despair.
It is a persistence and it sends a tingle through my toes, But my tired, weary feet pay no heed. I ignore it. I trudge on. On, on, on ... Through the heartache.
It is a grace that travels through me and into the world Leaving a trail of color and of light, And I let it. And it flows through me and about me. Flows, flows, flows ... And I let it.
It is a quickening of my pulse that courses through my body, But I blame it on my fearful anxiety and I ignore it. I trudge on. On, on, on ... Through the turmoil.
Felicia Rinaldi
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Hope Life can pour down on us; It can storm with anger, Drench with tears, or Destroy with hatred. At times we are caught Without shelter, no cover From the torrents. Though the rains may seem ceaseless, A deluge of sorrow; We must remember the sun, Who never fails to bathe Humanity in his light Even after a long absence. For without the rain, Never would the sun shine so brightly. Catherine Paquette
Haiti Hope Poem Fading to black, night falls upon man And despair lives in the night. But humans were made with Earth After God created the Light and knew it was good. Our lives shall be bathed in light and the joy it knows. Hope is like the sun, strong and everywhere. We cannot hide in the shadows of losses, But rather we are called to embrace the light in our lives. Let not the image of a broken people fill the heart, But rather the image of a whole person. The sun enfolds mankind in its warmth. The rains purify our spirit. The winds caress us and remind us the world is still turning. Life is prevailing ... today, tomorrow, and like the waves of the ocean, Forever. Robbie Kuhlman
Disaster strikes, it always has and it always will. It may not be frequent, it may not be constant. Our lives will often slip by without much thought about How Disaster could strike us at any moment. Then Disaster cries out and strikes us and ruins lives It had not touched before. Like a fleeting wind it comes and goes leaving destruction and waste. Deadly Disaster is a blanket, covering many people and when it is lifted They are in ruin. But destruction is not all Disaster brings. It brings community bonds. It brings a burning desire for those in need. It brings the need for unity from occasional to always. It brings selflessness And It brings hope. Hope that things can, and will, be built better than they were before. Brian Frenzel
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A small child lies in bed,
Hope
thinking about what lies ahead.
I feel the growing darkness
A project due, the fear to speak
Like a cloak that envelops around me.
in front of the class, confidence weak.
I feel the pain and suffering
Holding tight to her lucky shell,
Like the harsh and bitter cold that stings my face.
For the best she hopes, just to do well, as a child lies in bed.
My body shakes and shivers and shouts for help,
A young adult sits on the street.
But defeat is a call that nobody answers to.
A collection, a hat, a guitar keeping beat. The days, so slowly, travel by
Yet when all seems lost, there is a glimpse of light.
as he wonders to himself: this is me, but why? Clutching his only possession and a farfetched dream,
The radiant beams shine from the sky that offers a hand
his soul searching, and hoping, to be redeemed
And tells me to hold my head up high.
as the young adult sits on the street. An elderly man walks, cautiously.
Hope is the gardener of flowers that in winter are dead,
Life weighing fully on technology.
But with effort bloom into red roses in the spring.
The pacemaker watching him, protecting as a mother does a child. He waits for the ring
Hope is the runner who feels like giving up,
of the phone from the doctor, with news of his part.
But gathers energy from his fans to win the race.
He is hoping, praying, for his needed replacement heart, As the elderly man walks, cautiously.
Hope is the hiker who against all odds,
The child, full of hope, speaks to the class with ease.
Scales the mountain of extraordinary heights.
Earning an A over the sea of B’s.
Most importantly, hope is the hand of God from Heaven
The young adult, full of hope, signed the record deal he seeked.
That fills the hearts of friends who will always be there for us.
Now a future burning bright, rather than questionable and meek. The elderly man, full of hope, answered a call he received. There was a heart, which would soon be his, more than ever in God did he believe.
May we all extend our hands over the weak, poor, oppressed, For with God’s love, we are unstoppable and nothing is impossible.
Proof that hope lingers somewhere in all of us. Maggie Daly
Mathew Johnson
53
Hope is Now
Hope Though tragedy strikes and someone dies,
Even in the most devastating and horrific circumstances,
In the arms of love a newborn babe cries.
What keeps us alive and allows us to endure? Hope.
For each parting word and tear that may be shed,
Hope is like a steadfast friend, unselfish and unrelenting.
With caring donations a starving child is fed.
It’s in the form of God, creation, or one individual.
The overcast clouds loom with sadness and fear,
It can even be found in the sun’s smiling face and outstretched hands. When all else seems lost, and the joys you once knew are gone,
But the sun will break through and the sky will clear.
Don’t give up faith because hope is near.
If we have hope, no more will we have to toil.
Hope is the heart’s sacred courage.
If we have faith, no morale will we spoil.
It’s discovering beauty among death and destruction. Hope is a joyful song heard amongst the weeping.
Deep in the frozen ground a new life screams to break free.
Hope is that single shining star in the dark night sky.
A minute seed will one day grow into a great tree.
It’s like being held in the warm comfort of the one we love. Hope is a rainbow showering dreams.
All together, with hands joined in love and care,
Hope is for the hopeless.
We can rebuild the cities, left torn and bare.
Hope is now.
Even in the darkest hour our hope shines bright. Rachel Neltner
With courage, strength and cooperation we can win the fight. Surround your life with uplifting words and ideals; It may make a difference in the way one feels. In sorrow and utter dismay we purge our deepest emotions. But we are reborn with new life through devotions To God and to all who suffer and cry. Hold strong and revel in the knowledge that we all must die. On the other side bright beams of golden mist will stream As we bask in the glory of the silvery, sweet dream. Shannon Coffey
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The Value of Hope Hope is the answer, the beginning of the end of all suffering. Even the orphaned, starving child stops feeling pain when enveloped in a blanket of hope. Hope gives a person a goal, to fight for a better Tomorrow. Millions are displaced from their homes, but hope displaces despair. Hope brushes aside the evils and miseries of today, and sets its sights on the better conditions of the glittering, eternal promise of Tomorrow. Defying all logic, hope is the fuel of survival, the epitome of optimism. Stronger than any earthquake, hope is for those who dare to dream of a better world than the one they see before them, to dream of a better Tomorrow. These dreamers will one day change this world they see, because hope breeds action, called Justice. The tree of Justice, which began as the tiny sapling of hope, will bring to reality all of these dreams, and will give us all the Tomorrow we so desperately seek. Katherine Wiesenhahn
To Love the Broken and Weeping Every now and then, we get that feeling in the corner of our spines. And there is a moment in time When we pause and rewind. We watch wickedness consume the land, But backwards. We would see the buildings explode together, Like puzzles of shattered cool glass. We would see waves being pulled into the sea; Consumed, resembling the milk running down your mother’s throat. We would see tears rising up people’s cheeks and back into their eyes, Time would stop, And now time has stopped. We can slowly stitch up the sadness and fight To calm that creature whose mind’s on fire, To love the broken and weeping, And to keep safe that piece of hope in humans’ lungs and hands. Carmen Ostermann
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Hope
Hell may knock you down, grab you, and drag you through the mud, And there may be no one to fight him off. But like the deep-rooted trees in the raging storm, We possess the strength to carry on when all is chaos around us.
Our lives here seem locked in a vault, safe and protected, But any second Mother Nature could steal into our lives and destroy all That we have ever worked for or cared for or created. Our lives would then seem to have no purpose.
People whose lives are crushed may get dismayed and depressed, But, Grace picks them up, dusts them off, and They become stronger than ever before. Soon, they are meeting Devastation again and vanquishing him with ease.
Everyone falls down the hill once in a while. It’s one of the few things that are in our contract with Life. But we need to find the one loophole that Life didn’t find: We’re allowed to climb back up. D.J. DelVecchio
Hope Without hope our world would be nothing. Times of despair shape this planet we call home; We must be hopeful so peace and life may be restored. Throughout history we have been put to the test; Now is no time to rest. Life will continue as we know it, future history will show it. Now is the time to take action; come together to make ends meet. Times of despair bring us closer to others; We must look to each other as brothers. Alone we are nothing, but together we can be great. We are put here for a reason no matter what the season. Embrace the world upon us; it is all we are allowed. We never know when we may be watching from a cloud. Come together as brothers and sisters, We will be amazed at what we might accomplish.
Poem of Hope When disaster strikes I am in the shadows, waiting for my turn. For only love can summon me, a way for them to learn. They unite in my name, looking past their despair, Holding hands together, though their lives may be bare. They do not look back to the destruction that was, But to the road before them, paved with their love. Light shines from them, the sun is in their eyes, And they share the promising words, overpowering the cries. I sit with my brothers, lifting these people higher. With Love and Faith by my side, they will never tire. They will wake up every morning, put their smiling faces on, And in their darkest hour, they find me to rest upon. They will strive for a life only seen in their dreams, not settling for anything less. Life has thrown them curveballs, but they’re strong for every test. And I’ll be there for all of it, through the sun and through the rain. You can call me Hope, the one thing that remains.
Dylan Gerding
56
Sara Maloney