McNicholas High School
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Archbishop McNicholas High School 6536 Beechmont Avenue Cincinnati, Ohio 45230
Writers Archer, Jeff Bachmann, Kelly Baurichter, Austin Burke, Brian Cowens, Maggie De Salvo, Nina Ecker, Allison England, Emily Feldkamp, Becca Fitzpatrick, Olivia Fortin, Emily Frenzel, Scott Frey, Lucy Grieco, Jake Hartwell, Brenna Heyl, Matthew Hornsby, Maria Kaising, Jessie Klump, Hannah Losekamp, Tony Lynd, Danielle Meineke, Alison Morrow, Kerry Otto, Will Poole, Mitch Ragland, Kerry Schmidt, Jill Schneider, Ashley Shaw, Sterling Shrader, Corey Simpson, Abby Smith, T’Chanie Streit, Katie Tabet, George Timmons, Drew Tomblin, Katie
Table of Contents Pages Writers Pages 23 Uhl, Ellen 30-31 4 Voet, Michael 5, 38 35, 36 Weber, Gretchen 8, 36, 38, 52 8, 10-11, 13, 22 Weiler, Katie 28 6, 26,40 Wilch, Puddy 34 5, 14, 37, 53 Zurovchak, Kate 25 6, 23, 42 9, 17, 33 8, 15, 18, 26, 41, 45,50 22 4 21 20 9, 19, 28, 43 24 24, 43 12, 35, 39, 40, 52 46-47 16, 29, 51 Chief Editor: 33 Sterling Shaw 27, 49 Art Editor: 53 Allison Ecker 12, 27 Layout Editors: 7, 32 Allison Ecker, Nina De Salvo, 17 Katie Tomblin, and Ashley 39, 45 Schneider 18, 50 Editing Staff: 21, 41 Brian Burke, Hannah Klump, 48 Will Otto, Kerry Ragland, Jill 15 Schmidt, Abby Simpson, 56 T’Chanie Smith, Katie Streit, and 6, 20, 28, 36, 44 Puddy Wilch 44 Moderators: 50, 52, 54-55 Mrs. Meloney Feldkamp and 34 Mrs. Val Combs 13, 37, 49
Artists/Photographers Adams, Catherine Anonymous Baca, Adam Berning, Sarah Bloemer, Annie Clark, Lauren Cornell, Sarah Day, Alex Fay, Sarah Feldkamp, Emily Flynn, Azrielle Foster, Christine Frey, Kara Gerke, Seth Glinsek, Jordan Hiltz, Grace Kaising, Jessie Lehnhoff, Emily Luedtke, Erica Meineke, Alison Mitchell, Abby
Artists/Photographers McMahon, Megan Polanco, Rachel Sandmann, Mary Scheidler, Sam Schuh, Anna Scott, Lauren
Pages 20 24 44 5, 36 36 18 6 12 49 26 43 16 37 45 27 6 56 4 35 33 20
Semancik, Gretchen Shepherd, Lindsay Tomblin, Katie Tucker, Faith Uhl, Ellen Wadell, Mary Wagner, Jack Weber, Gretchen Weisshaar, Rebecca Williams, Kevin Wright, Francine * photo submitted by former student Katie McClellan
Pages 39 8 19, 41 8, 14 52 1, 13, 18, 26, 27, 50 6, 40 4 cover, 17, 24, 29 43 31 25 15 9, 23, 34 7, 12, 15, 17, 21, 28, 40, 51, 53, 55 22 5, 44 47
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, an interview, a play review, a parody, short stories, 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
Crazy in Love It’s a want, a need, a yearning. It’s a wish upon the brightest star in the blackest night sky. It’s the feeling of staring into his eyes and seeing down deep into his soul. It’s the feeling of your head fitting perfectly against his chest. It’s the hope that you never have to leave his arms. It’s the joy of knowing you’re the same and still different. It’s the nervous excitement when he meets your family for the first time. It’s the pain you feel when he’s sad or upset. It’s the longing to always be talking to him or with him. It’s the way your heart speeds up and stops when he kisses you. It’s how his hand and yours fit flawlessly together. It’s the desire to never take your eyes off him. It’s the first moment, when he walks in the door, and your eyes lock and everything around you goes fuzzy, and all you can see is him. It’s being in the same room as him and forgetting how to make words, sentences, conversation. It’s your mind going blank but somehow he knows exactly what you need to say. It’s all your attention focusing on him all the time. It’s your heart stopping when he’s anywhere close. It’s knowing everything’s perfect when he’s in the same room as you, when he’s touching you, when he’s holding your hand, when he’s kissing you. It’s being completely honest with him- more honest than you had ever been with anyone, because you trust that he won’t think any differently of you if you’re too honest. It’s the uncontrollable smile-giggle-blush when you think of him, when you hear your song, when you talk to him. It’s the moment when you realize you never want to leave his side, you want to be with him forever and always, you want to always be his and him to always be yours. It’s acknowledging that he had your heart since the moment you laid eyes on him. It’s admitting that you’re totally, truly, irrevocably, head-over-heels, in love with him. Kelly Bachmann Unending Snowfall
Snow falls constantly now. I see those little crystallized flakes as beautiful teardrops of the sky. When the sky is sad during this time, it weeps because of the beauty that died, but rejoices that it will be blooming once again. The view outside is glorious, but emits the feeling of gloom. I have felt this feeling many times throughout winter, but this is the season that teaches me the most. All the hard times you go through, and the droopy gloom prepares you for life in the future. It reassures you that every time you run into an obstacle, you will always jump over it. Life lessons teach you just that, how to live your life the way you want it to turn out. ~Life is like a blank piece of paper; write your own story. Emily Fortin
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My Best Friend Each night when I lay down to rest, I see you and my heart beats in my chest. As soon as I hit the bed you are there, And I feel your soft touch on my face, in my hair. You’re entirely mine; I’ll share you with none. You’re there in the morning, even when I’m done. Whoever reads this must think that I’m drinking. I’m talking about my pillow; what were you thinking? Michael Voet My First Kiss ‘Sloppy’, ‘awkward’, and ‘hilarious’: the three words used to describe my first kiss. I was in the eighth grade, seeing a movie with my first ever boyfriend, Trevor. Trevor and I had an…interesting relationship. Although it pains me to admit this now, I wasn’t exactly dating Trevor for the usual reasons. My two best friends at the time, Tory and Joey, had been dating and I knew that I couldn’t just tag along on their dates…but I missed hanging out like we all had done before they’d become “official.” I knew to be able to spend time with them again, I’d have to have a boyfriend myself, and then we could double date. Who better than Joey’s best friend, Trevor? It wasn’t a cynical scheme, honestly just…not the usual means a relationship comes by…and Trevor wasn’t exactly aware of my true feelings. But, anyway, it was during the film “Epic Movie” which I can now easily say is possibly the least entertaining “comedy” to have ever graced the theatres, so I couldn’t even pretend to focus on the screen. I knew it was coming…the kiss…his arm around my shoulder, the distance between us growing slimmer and slimmer…and of course my friends behind us, who had actually broken free from each other’s faces and tangled limbs (…lovely…) just long enough to throw candy at us, and threatened to continue doing so until we kissed. Peer pressure? For once, there was no one else in the theatre…no adult to shush us for being noisy. The only time in the world I was desperately praying some authority-figure would come and holler at us, maybe even kick us out, but nooo…now is when I got the bit of privacy pre-teens so longingly yearn for. Great. So, with the timing being all too perfect, Trevor went in for the kill. I braced myself, keeping my eyes wide open as I watched him clumsily inch toward me - his eyes closed and lips pressed tightly together, fishlike, maneuvering over the armrest between us. This had to be the slowest travel to a kiss imaginable; couldn’t it just be over with? I winced and kept my lips locked together firmly. Finally, he made contact, barely, as he met the very corner of my mouth, pecking me like a chicken. All that travel time and he almost misses?! All I knew was, I was just thankful he wasn’t going to try and pry his tongue into my mouth, so I smiled and faked a giggle, and my friends ceased fire. Ahh, nothing more sweet and true than young romance… Nina De Salvo
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Dream World It’s when I close my eyes,
Imagination is for the Non-comformist
And when I try to dream,
Creativity is a happy song
That the truth comes out
While conformity is sad.
Ream by ream by ream.
Be creative, always changing,
The words keep flowing— Off each and every page. Gutenberg’s invention
During both good and bad. T’Chanie Smith
Shows my inner rage, Delight, sorrow, and shame. The deep desires of my Hidden—hiding—heart
I just don’t understand, Did I do something wrong? We can take it slow if you just take my hand.
Keep rushing me by. So why go to this dream world? Why take this dreary plight? Because there’s the chance I’ll Dream of you each and every night.
Lost and Found
Allison Ecker
You and I could have lasted so long. But when that clock strikes 11:11, Or when I see that shooting star, I’m wishing to be with you It’s so close but way too far. We were always friends But you knew I wanted more Are you that oblivious, That you cut me to the core? I drop a subtle hint here and there But you never seem to care. I need to find my heart again but I don’t know where.
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Maggie Cowens
Scatterbrain A ponderance, a mind gone askew. No ideas coming out, nothing coming through. This writing, this poem Nonsensical to the reader for sure This writing block has no cure.
I can remember being little And Mr. Simmons going on about “perri-dittles” Those days are long gone And I find myself wiser And able to play with fire.
So write, write, write I do Though not quite sure what to do Not quite sure what to say I’m sorry if this doth confuse I hope much time you do not lose
I remember the days of my youth When you took everything as truth Every day was an adventure Santa gave you presents for being good And nothing had to be understood
Not sure what to write, I must say I’ve said a lot lately and am strugglin’ today. There is much to be done This school lately has much demand And has me feeling like an old man.
So as I conclude this thing I await the bell to ring I leave you with a quote from the fat man “Merry Christmas to all, And to all a good night”
I shan’t complain anymore Complainers are often such a bore So I shall say to whoever reads this Hello, hooray! Live to fight another day. Life is good and happy But I’m not one for being all sappy I am rather direct So that is where I stop. And the horse goes clop, clop, clop. Those who read this, probably think me crazy But after months of school, my brain is lazy I am a senior now, So my time’s almost done I’ve had my fun.
Will Otto
Passion of the Dancing Flame A Fire soars like that found in the dancing flames, Across the moon lit starry sky its passion burns bright, Not of that for dull emotions but it is all just the same, No, the flame dances with renewed vigor, raging and light, Just a stray spark is all it needs for it to do harm, Tossing about in the wind, growing, never ending hunger, Eats, consumes, devours all it touches, grazing the arm, Grazing that which had once called as a mother, But in beauty name by no means can any one man tame, For to tame this flame is to steal its burning passion, Hot as it is, flowing in its dance, only to watch and give name, To see this eternal endless dance ablaze come to fashion, So to our amazing glow lights away to our own fiery spirit, For all are too unique for us to have reason to steal it. Brian Burke
Vices Break a line. Cross it twice. Open up my best vice. Let it out. Breathe in shame. Leading on Something tame. Call it a prayer or maybe a plea Because valleys of hope Don’t elevate dreams. Gretchen Weber
ON THE VERGE OF FREEDOM I’ll tell you what I’m feeling: I’m trapped beneath my skin. My mind is through the ceiling, my walls are caving in. Where do I go from nowhere? Or is nowhere really here? How do I get to somewhere? There must be someplace far from near. My attention to the worry in my thoughts blockade the sun. My ideas are aflurry, I just wish they could be one. The horizon’s orange, soft lips kissed the blue and salty sea. My purple mind breathes and sips the crisp taste of being free. Becca Feldkamp
Rock People come to me a lot with their problems… which I don’t really mind. I do like helping people. It’s when people don’t “return the favor” that makes me mad. I can just give pretty good advice. The thing that people don’t understand is I have my own problems too. I honestly don’t care what “signals” your boyfriend is giving you when my parents are fighting for hours downstairs. They’re on the verge of divorce and no one even slightly cares. I need someone to talk to… to be my friend. I just want someone to listen to me for a change. I am people’s rock. You need to polish the rock and keep it shiny, clean, new, and dirt free… or else it will erode, break, and shatter into pieces if you fail to do so. When will anyone care? I guess I’m just waiting for someone to listen and care, until I shatter into pieces like a rock. Emily England
About the Author Innocuous In my orbiting sarcophagus Nurturing my biggest fear That I won’t even shed a tear When it’s time to disappear For these struggles with maturity and purity Have consumed me eternally I think to forget the feelings I feel to induce the thoughts I forget to feel as to remember to think But every thought brings me back to the same place I can never leave I wish tonight had given me a reason to remember it forever But in my own defense I chose ascent Out of clear conscience Into this emptiness And now I’m just doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result 9
Jake Grieco
Blanking Point (fragment) Darkness was all that could be seen in the empty streets of Al’Barin, the ruined city that lay beyond and between the outskirts of the known world. A place that has been untouched by man and has long been forgotten left only to know the shadows that no light can penetrate. The tower of skyscrapers that lined the outer and middle layers of the city, dulled in comparison to the shine they held in the past. Now they only scratch the endless dark clouds that continually rain over the city. Broken glass and fallen debris now litter the once populated streets, cold stone statues of what appear to be the civilians lined the sidewalks as if they were in motion but were held in mid step by an unknown force. Other statues seemed to be thrown up and suspended in mid air, almost like they were trying to escape a fate worse than death. Even the statues that looked liked birds flocked in a manner mimicking that of others. As far as one could tell, Al’Barin was a city that was lost to ruin and time. Amongst the city’s darkness, a lone figure could barely be seen walking aimlessly along its slick black ruined streets, silent as a phantom. The figure was garbed in a black hood that covered his face and black cloak that made it next to impossible to tell that he was even there. It was only thanks to the downpour of the heavy rain that one could see his faint outline. The figure continued its way down the street after taking a moment to look around, making sure he wasn’t lost. He didn’t bother seeking shelter from the countless array of looming skyscrapers as he knew that rain would never let up. He considered himself a denizen of this realm as he was already one of the few that were among the dark. A man, no, a boy, giving the shortness of his height, that had grown up living with a curse. A nightmare some would call it, others would even go as far to say that it was more of a gift of immortality given to him by a higher being. That wasn’t the case for him at the moment. He had lived his life running for the most part, equivalent to the amount of time that he had to bear the curse. Time seemed to have slowed down around him since then. He didn’t notice at first, but everything came into full focus on the night that his family was murdered in front of him. He couldn’t do anything as time made him watch the events play out in front from a different perspective, a perspective of him that was pure rage and animalistic in nature. His thoughts had come to a halt when he noticed that he finally reached his destination. A fountain stood before him along with some broken statues and two trees; both looked as cold as stone, as cracks ran up and down their white bark and with leaves that appear frozen in mid twirl against an invisible wind that blew around them. The fountain itself had once been full of life as its rich water overflowed out of its golden ribs and out onto the streets, void of nothing except of rust that had accumulated on its outer and inner rims. Cracks and parts of the broken statues now decorated the area in scattered heaps of debris, littering the ground around the fountain. The figure standing a few feet from one of the broken statues, touching it gently fearing that it would crumble to dust at any given time, notices that a fragment lay beneath his feet. Curiously he reaches down to pick it up, noticing that it was what remained of the statue’s head. Strangely, its face looked that of a child’s more than that of an adult, but it seemed so sad and dull, broken even, hard to believe that it once been filled with life. After a long time of looking and rubbing his fingers over the broken face, memorizing the expression of fear and passion that it held, the figure tightened his grip around the head causing it to crumble to dust in his grip. Even after the statue’s head had crumbled in his hands from all the pressure, time seemed unfrozen
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for a moment as the dust particles moved in the air, before coming to an abrupt halt as time froze over again. Just like the world around him, dark, dull, depressing, lost in time and forgotten. Was hell supposed to look like this, too? What would heaven be like if this is what hell was? Would it be like a spark of something more chaotic? Amongst his thoughts he noticed that another figure, much taller than he and dressed in a similar fashion with his face only masked by the darkness around him instead of his hood, appeared. This figure, like himself, was also a bearer of the curse, except he was one of the few that claimed it to be a gift rather than a curse. For time frozen is just another means of immortality, but time itself can’t be frozen in place, only slowed down. For nothing is truly eternal. Just like the statue head that had crumbled in his hand a few moments ago, time will surely return when given enough force. The rain began to let up a little as the taller of the two figures made its way across the ruined street over to where the smaller one stood. He stopped about five feet from the smaller figure, keeping his face hidden in the lasting darkness that masks his face. “Behold, this ruined forgotten city was once a place filled with hundreds maybe thousands of lives even. What has since been shined upon as a glorious paradise beneath a sky full of light now lies beyond the brink of an endless eclipse of darkness, cast aside out of arrogance and misunderstanding, and for a search of knowledge too. Pity really, this city was out of time, out of self interests, lost but not forgotten. Look around you; look at the ashes that float motionlessly about your hand. They too tell a tale of a time when this city was filled with life, when it was a part of something greater, and much greater than you and I could ever hope of becoming. Now it only tells a tale of ruin, but amongst these ruins a new beginning can be forged, one that could even rival that of the dawning of time. Look around you; tell me that you can’t see this pace for what it truly is, a place of creation? If ruin brings upon the birth of creation then tell me this, what lays beyond yet another disaster such as this? Would we be able to survive another apocalypse in order to find out, or would we be faced with a similar fate such as these cold lifeless statues that lay around us? I must have these answers”. The taller had spoken in a voice that sounded nothing like a voice, but sounded like a rough rasping sound instead. The smaller figure having abided to what the other had said, took a look around him. He noted that the ruined city stretched on for miles without end and seemed even more lifeless when looking at it with a new point of view. After a while, the shorter figure returns his gaze back to the taller one in front of him, but doesn’t give a response. Instead he just stands, giving off a confused feeling. He must have zoned out at one point because he didn’t notice that the taller figure had walked past him, and it was only thanks to the quick pat on the back that woke him out of his zombie-like state. “A memory beyond Humph, I think it’s fitting for such a place as this, as timeless as this place may seem; don’t be fooled by its twisted illusions. Time can never be fully stopped, only slowed down. I myself am proof of that. As of which, you should know by now that we can’t proceed without a direct course of action. If Doctor Smight were to be able to come with an agreement with the Saix group, then we would come to a standstill. I’ve come too far to have to turn back now, not with everything being so close to fortune as it already is. Yes, you will be the trigger that will start all of this. I hope you know what to do”. The taller figure had finished saying as he left the shorter one alone in the pouring rain amongst the ruin city. He knew what he had to do; he didn’t need to be reminded of it, but still the direct approach will surely cause even more ruin. A war that which the world has never seen. It had to be done or else all their goals, his included, would all be for naught. So the figure, quietly as he came, continues on down the ruined street before him, not stopping to think of the consequences that will follow his actions. Brian Burke
Oculi Oh, these green eyes. Hold all the truths I hide. The secrets that should never be spoken. The promises not to be broken. The values I used to believe. The magic in all that I’ve seen. The beauty in the madness. The strength underneath the sadness. The memories and forget-me-nots. The poems and rebellious thoughts. That which this pen bleeds and spills unto this page. The joy, the grief, the peace, the rage. My green eyes hold it all. The ups, the downs, the jumps, the falls. The wall that surrounds me. Keeps that hidden, what people should not see. The things that keep me apart. That which cannot be contained by the heart. My eyes are my masks. But like a dam, one day they’ll break. There’s only so much my soul can take. Kerry Morrow
Linger Lingering feelings of old touches and hollow words, Memories of what will never be. I’m left here to dwell, Live in a past that should be disregarded. You were always so hard to erase, It’s hard to erase your eyes and everything they said that day. Can’t erase that letter and everything it stood for, It’s now ripped to shreds, But I still smile thinking of what it once said. I am lasting in small recollections you have likely forgotten Remaining in our history, Not letting go of the spark we created, Holding a firm grasp on April’s nostalgia, Where did March’s splendor go? I’m Lingering endlessly in memories of me and you.
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Maria Hornsby
My Childhood (In a Nutshell) It all started when I was six, Munching on Kit Kats and Pixie Stix, I viewed a commercial for Pokémon Blue And saw for the first time Pikachu. I figured I must buy this game To capture this cute mouse, so famed I played the games and watched the shows And sang the theme song everyone knows For I wanted to be the very best Like no one ever--well, you know the rest. I played my way through Blue with awe With a Bulbasaur captured in a Pokéball
Which is Faster?
I fought through the Gyms with gaining speed
What is faster, the turtle or the hare? My six beloved Pokies were all I needed Does it even matter who is faster? My fave was Vulpix, the six-tailed fox Just as long as one reaches his destination with care. Or it’s not that faster is better but that it only matters. But I wouldn’t let her evolve, ’cause Vulpix rocks. While I agree with you that fast is great, And I had a Meowth, a little cat But only when it comes down to a race. For I like kittens. Imagine that! While everyone else takes short cuts, I go straight. Someone makes a left; I make a right and put on a face. Then I finally beat the Elite Four, Seeing is believing and that I do say is true. And I got a 100-level Venusaur But rushing things takes that all out, I say. Things are left blurred and subdued. And I had captured every Pokie I was able Just like forgetting that it’s the middle of May. And I’d seen them all (except Clefable) I see things in a pace that’s right, While others see it as dull and light. And I was beyond happy because If they were to ask me, “why so slow?” I believed I was the best I ever was! I laugh and say “cliché, why so fast?” But then one afternoon....(I sorta wanna cry) Ago is such a dry word, but you know It can always outlast. I started the game over. I still don’t know why. So which is faster, the turtle or the hare? Or, which would one do you prefer to be? Brian Burke
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Katie Tomblin
The Day The Day is an interesting place. Especially when you’re just experiencing it for the first time. The way your nightmares catch fire with the sun, and lead you to the truth. They were never anything to fear at all - just that absence of light, the fear of what could conjure without our full attention and having every little say in how something may become. Funny, how you can haunt yourself more than anything else. It takes a bit of time in the Day to realize this. To return to the person you were when you functioned like this before…you almost forgot, didn’t you? I’m still learning, to live in the Day. The people you never truly met, because you’d spent all the energy your body could store living that second life, where the only other people that still exist are the people who were just like you. And even if the others tried to understand, you never gave them the chance. The tasks that once exhausted you by their very mention or thought, come with a new found ease. The things that irked your very core come with a beauty you never realized before. Words aren’t your escape; they’re your expression, which leaves quite a different taste on the tongue. Savory, sometimes even sweet, but no longer bitter. Or worse - completely tasteless. The fear will still exist, of falling into those engrained paths that you once tread when darkness fell. But, everything runs in patterns, circles going around and around. A force more powerful than the momentum at hand has to knock you off track. The same kind force that may have knocked you off of the previous set of routines that caused so much pain. The only way to fail now is to actually try…there’s safety here, in the Day.
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Nina De Salvo
Antemore Threatened cloud in eternal drought Weary opportune A foresight of doubt enclosed within Structured chaos Aligned in the crest of Kronos
NOVEMBER I know that it’s sad, But I know that it’s true. My resistance gave in And I fell for you. On the road in November A friendship became. Life ever since Hasn’t quite been the same. Our laughs have been music. Our chats opened doors. I told you my story And you told me yours. I tried not to fall; I clung to the side. Too soon I came crashing, Felt something inside. I do regret nothing, I know what I know. I’m loving this friendship: A friendship to grow. No matter what happens, A best friend you are. A hero, a trooper, A bright shining star. Becca Feldkamp
The frightened one Plundered through his blank achievement Plundered through his shallow grave Plundered through A sound arousal Given behavioral instinct Broken skin Skinned alive Antemorte Corey Shrader
n[ever] i’m so sorry dear sir, but could you spare a heart? {seeing as how i’ve none left} forgive my rudeness, but i’d give all to see again, to ecchymose my dreams upward the way ivy clings to aged brick houses in winter, and to be whole again. {right now i’m half an empty moon} could you give me strength, to carry on today, bearing the burden of the past on my shoulders, with all its positives and negatives? could you show me how to run, even if i know not where my footsteps tread? {it’s like a desert, but i can’t see through the sand} can you give me the wisdom to bloom, with the grace of a thousand lilies and bleeding roses? to know right from wrong again, dark from light, and words from thought? {which is which?} i need the courage to speak without hesitation, to follow intuition with instinctive thought instead of doubt. can you be my sun, because i’m void of ideas? {an eclipse of emptiness} stitch by stitch, could you teach me how to put myself back together, until i’m a quilt that keeps itself warm? {i could really use the heat} can you be my lungs, since i’ve forgotten how to breathe? {i’m drowning in an ocean} and could you be my brain, because i believe all my sanity has gone with it? {and we’ll fly, together into what will never come.} Hannah Klump
To my princess Four eyes caught staring, two yours and two mine, Lost forever, yet together in time. Searching for courage, brave words I desire To capture your heart of endless fire. Without a sound, I look on past your gaze I walk away sad, no smile, no praise But before I could take a step too far, I felt the grip of your hand on my arm. Turning, I found those stunning eyes once more, And my heart sprung up like never before. I will never forget the time our eyes first met, It ended my life of pain and regret. It blocked out the hurt that darkened my days, And gave me the hope and courage to say, I love you.
Mitch Poole
Who do you think I am? Some people call me an artist. Some people call me a caregiver. Some people call me a therapist. Some people call me a musician. Some people call me a pacifist. Some people call me a friend. Some people call me an optimist. While all that sounds great on paper, I am one who is trying to survive each day. I can’t grasp my life like water vapor. I feel like all you do is betray. Take a wide look around at the world you live, For it is in ruins because you won’t forgive. Your artist, caregiver, therapist, musician, pacifist, friend, and optimist is falling fast. Just be the one to catch them, or else their life will not last. Emily England
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DIAMOND IN THE ROUGH World, I know you hear me. Your response to me is true. Throughout all of our hardships there is so much good in you. The people you provide me are the greatest I have met. They are the reason for my being, they just do not know it yet. I wish that I could tell them each and every day Friendship
that there’s so much to love about them,
I know you will always be there for me,
and ten times more to say.
The light through the darkness you will be.
They don’t think they’re the greatest. But I want them all to see.
Staying up late, listening to me vent,
I will love them all forever
Sometimes I think that you were God-sent.
and they mean the world to me.
High school is a place I couldn’t get through If I didn’t have a friend like you.
Becca Feldkamp
You never judge and are always so kind, It’s almost as if you can read my mind. I hope you realize I’m here for you too, And know I will always listen to you. I love you so much and I just want to say Thank you for having my back today. You are my best friend, always and forever. We can conquer the world when we are together. 18
Jill Schmidt
The Girl with Her Heart In her Spine pt 2 Is it out? The girl placed her curious fingers inside all the holes that were now in her chest. Where is your heart? She put her hand inside her chest but only to grab the air behind her. I chained it to my spine. I was afraid I’d let you have it. Why are you keeping it from me? The boy grabs his own heart in the shape of a bracelet on his wrist. He slides it off his arm and puts it in the girl’s empty chest. You can have mine. The girl cherished the boy’s heart and memorized every detail of it. How it would glow when she thought of him, how it jumped when she was around him, and most importantly, how it crumbled when she left. The girl with her heart in her spine gave the boy back his heart piece by piece. She tried to help him rebuild it, and every time she came around he would slip a piece of his heart into her always open wounds. Until she was filled with fears and feeling that had once belonged to him. When all the pieces were inside her, the girl would still not submit to his heart. The girl with her heart in her spine sat in her rocking chair and wondered: I have two hearts inside me but I still don’t know what love is. She searched through her body and found all the pieces of the boy. She took each piece and painted it. Every color representing a different emotion the boy can feel. She closed her eyes and tossed the pieces into the air as to hide him in her world, and she did. The boy whose heart was once a bracelet demanded every piece be returned. When the boy found the girl, he could see his heart everywhere around her. He was her world but not her love, something that must only make sense when your heart is in your spine. The boy found all the pieces, but took only one. The piece the girl had painted red. The piece he reserved for the girl. The boy took his heart piece and built with it a large ship as to escape this world and live in space. He would no longer walk the same ground as the girl with her heart in her spine. He would have given her anything, but she made him into everything, so now he lives in nothing.
19
Jake Grieco
How Could I Forget? My heart beats fast as I await your arrival. I must be crazy. Here I am on this rustic dock, thinking of our last summer together. The last memory we had was under the stars on this dock. Our toes dipped in the cool, blue water; our hands connected and our minds opened. We sat there for hours sharing memories and discussing dreams. When you had to leave, I knew it would be a whole year until I saw you again. Yet the feelings kept growing inside me. Lights shine over the hill and through the trees. Butterflies in my stomach bring me back to reality. As I watch the lights, they slowly turn the corner and disappear into the woods. My hope lessens as tears stream down my face. Suddenly, I hear a twig snap on shore. There was that familiar silhouette from our last summer. There he stands, arms wide open. I run to him toes dripping wet, heart steadfast. I wrap my arms around his neck and whisper into his ear …How did you know? His reply… How could I forget? Lucy Frey
Later in the Months
Snow falls only one time of the year, When it’s too cold for life to be sustained And children need rest to play. When autumn’s grasp is finally gone, And spring soon on its way, For snow falls freely, slowly, elegantly, And eventually melts away.
20
T’Chanie Smith
Cast Over
What You Never Knew You didn’t think I cared All those nights home alone While you were out drinking Your favorite drug of choice You didn’t think I knew How much you were hurting too But I watched you suffer silently With tears hidden away You didn’t think I saw How much you loved him still But I watched you all those years And prayed silently for a miracle You didn’t think I wanted To share my tears with you But the truth was it hurt too much To watch you hurting too Ashley Schneider
Living in the shadows so many things cast over me watching the stars shine they live so free their names are known mine is not quite someone get me out of this darkness and into my light pull me out of this shadow I work with such might get me out of this shadow and into my light ’cause sadness is coming I need to escape before the eyes I see become opaque autographs are signed but no one wants mine I try so hard but can’t get out of this line ’cause everyone else is perfect and so good at everything but I stumble and fall so unpromising pull me out of this shadow I work with such might get me out of this shadow and into my light I just wish for one day the crowds would scream my name and when a mistake is made I wouldn’t get the blame ’cause the darkness it hurts like no other living in the shadow of my enormous brother pull me out of this shadow I work with such might get me out of this shadow and into my light 21
Scott Frenzel
“A Song of Myself” A song of myself, A soft and enigmatic melody, In which I will attempt To explain my world to you. All humans are complex, Some more than others. But this is for certain– All humans can create, All humans can love, All humans can create love. With creative thinking, We can form a peaceful love. And with this love, this peace, this creativity, We can change the world, So that the goodness is stronger than the bad. This change can come from within the heart, From nature, From others, From faraway places.
Perceptions Barbed in thought unclear of emotions, Driving like a flock, locked in a clock, The chains tighten as we come to commotion, Binding fantasy of our hearts in a strong lock, Forever bound, never to see light or haze, Frozen to the very spot, trapped in our own dream, But never questioning the hunting gaze, Connected are we to others, to outwit this scheme, Play to play, two and two, look towards the truth For answers that aren’t there but have left its trail, Don’t be full of ignorance to see the golden tooth, Reconnect with knowing, wading to set sail. Thoughts are only the perception of one’s reality Looking for the unclear truth isn’t always a necessity. But truths clouded by lies from another perception Hurts only the shadow of the perceiver. Solution? Turn out all ignorance, don’t wade in the past. Brian Burke
But as for me, This change comes from my creativity. From the music that flows from my fingers, From the words that escape from my pen. And with this creativity, I hope to influence at least a portion of the world, So that the goodness is stronger than the bad.
People may say That creativity cannot make us think, That creativity cannot make us think of ways to be loving and peaceful beings, That creativity cannot spark a change. But God wrapped creativity up and bestowed it upon us as a gift. And with this gift He asked us to be creators, Creators of love, Creators of peace, And creators of change. I am complex, Sometimes more than others. But this I know is for certain– Like all humans, I can create, Like all humans, I can love, Like all humans, I can create love. Olivia Fitzpatrick
22
Coda
Comrade. Lining up in a line One by one, each in time. No free will to say or do, Only what they want you to. Always watched by Big Brother— Children going against father and mother. The men in black stare you down They make you smile and make you frown. Tell you that a Junior Spy turned you in For espionage and living in “sin.” Oh, how dare you even use that word— Referring to a “God” you’ve never heard. “How could you have a belief in him?” They ask while tearing you limb from limb. The torture of body and of mind— The helplessness of biding your time. There is no doubt that in the end that you will confess They have many ways to put you under stress. But the goal of the true rebel of that day— Is to know, live, and believe life your way. Within the proles lies the future To live a life with love and nurture— Of freedom from a watching eye, But how will that come by? All the rebels have met their end— But only after they have betrayed their friend, Family, lover, and even themselves Before the party their graves will delve. So, Comrade 413 of West Avenue Way, Now that you have read what this has to say— It makes you a traitor of the Oceanic state, Relax, there’s no way to circumvent your fate. Your mind now belongs to us, We are all that will be, is, and ever was. *inspired by George Orwell’s 1984 Allison Ecker
23
Come, and walk with me We’ll talk about what could be This place we hardly know Has so much more to show Soon I’ll leave this place So remember this brighter face Prepare for another one Because my time has come We are still so young We’ve just begun Not much time before I go Take the final blow Prepare for no more fears Wait just a few more years And though my time has come You won’t be left alone Soon I’ll leave this place Because I could never stay And though you cannot leave I hope you believe me Believe me when I say I’ll never be far away Love lives on and on In the heart, like a song And though you won’t be there I’ll feel you in the air Wherever life takes me You’ll go in memories I’ve never been happier than today And through tears of joy I can say I’ve finished what I came here for And you don’t need me anymore Jeff Archer
To Love That day mine eyes first beheld thy beauty Surely was the day my life had begun. Your natural charm my inspiration be. Were you to flee, my heart’s love would leaden. To you I do admit I once did set Mine repentant eyes upon another. Never again shall I sink to forget Mine soul does shrivel when not together Through all the hardships of my drainéd life. O these tragedies, some of which we share; Disease of loved ones in our lives were rife, Yet when with you mine heart is light as air. Although our treasure dost not let us wed, The first day you’re unloved, I will be dead. *Based on a Shakespearean Sonnet Brenna Hartwell
Floating You’re out on this ocean, still unsure Not knowing where your next step will be I’m here on the land, Solid stand on solid ground I’m standing here, still sure of what we’ll be Waiting for you Come into shore, and be with me Invite me back in your life And we’ll stand tall. But now you’ve been out there too long And it’s making me unsure And now you’ve made your decision And I guess so have I, And you continue floating, And I step out on this ocean of mine Not sure where I’m going just Floating
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Matthew Heyl
A Trial of Faith I am walking along a lonely road, My mistakes lay ahead of me. I am already ruined, My sins have won. I look up ahead. The sky is cold and dark. Looming over me, Judging me. It is my turn. I step up to my fate. This is where I am to be judged. Alone, cold, frightened. I try not to think of these things, As I pull out my last ray of hope, My rosary. My prayers fill the cold dark sky with light. My voice is but a whisper. I pray with all my heart, And I ask forgiveness for my sins. I feel like I am being renewed, forgiven. When I say the last prayer, I look around. I look around for a sign, A sign that I have been forgiven. I see nothing. The cold feeling comes back to my heart. I know I have failed. A single tear rolls down my cheeks, The cold is too much to bear. I’m alone without hope.
I fall to the ground, And close my eyes; Unaware of whether I’m dead or alive. I don’t know how long I was on the ground, But I woke to a warm breeze caressing my face. I opened my eyes and stood up. I felt renewed. I looked around and saw a person, Undistinguishable because the light surrounds them. A light in the darkness. Their hand was outstretched to something behind me. I looked back, nothing was there. I was confused, They couldn’t possibly be beckoning to me? I have sinned and was not forgiven. I thought about this until I finally understood. I smiled brightly as I ran towards this figure. I took his hand, We both walked into the light together. I have been forgiven. Kate Zurovchak
25
CREATION REFLECTION Sink your toes into the sand, Feel the salty tide swallow your ankles. The butterfly on your nose Is a small, loving kiss from The Father. Gaze at the snow-capped mountainous beauty, Climbing the sky like a staircase to heaven. The orange-pink and purple clouds Invite you to take a quick glance At the strong, yet soft, cheeks of God. Run through the crunchy, red leaves And the tall, yellow fields While the wind, the hands of the Lord Hold you and carry you, Protecting you from the bumps and vines That hold you back on your path. Look up at the green, leafy trees Who speak for the voice of God. Through the breeze in the branches, his whisper you can hear. Rest on the sturdy rock, hundreds of years old, Yet stronger by each passing year. Rest on God, powerful day and night like a hurricane. His love for you is more vast and mysterious than The planets and stars. Becca Feldkamp Fly Free! I wish to fly free as the butterflies. Maybe then I would realize Who I am and where my path leads. A good time is all this girl needs. Flying over the daisies through the air, Like a bike ride, just feel the wind in your hair. Colors so bright they catch your eye, Traveling as far as they want, the limit is the sky. Beautiful symmetry and patterns galore, 26 On any summer day you will see them soar.
Wing span is big or small So fragile, but they will never fall. Every butterfly is very unique, Each having an intricate design. They are never bleak. I stop and admire their fluttering through the air as thy fly by, As I desperately wish to be one with the butterflies in the sky. Maggie Cowens
Whispers I hear the whispers In my ears, Conversing with My deepest fears: Of love once lost Not to be found, Of my heart Ceasing to pound, Of my friends Deserting me, Of getting lost On stormy sea, Of losing Everything so fast, Of hopes and dreams That will not last. But if you stay With me, dear friend, The wicked whispers Finally end.
I Plead Insanity
I’m chasing the shadows. I’m grasping at lies. I’m searching for the man behind the disguise. I’m breathing in water. And choking on air. My sanity must be in here somewhere. I’m strumming the drums, beating the guitar. My sanity couldn’t have gotten that far. The one with the shaggy hair and covered eyes. He knows where my sanity lies. ‘Sir! Man with the disguise! What have you done with my sanity, my mind?!’ ‘I’ve left it with Alice and the white rabbit for safe keeping,’ he says. But then I blink and awake to a white room with padded walls. I scream then I shout, ‘That man with the disguise, he lied, HE LIED!’ But then I realize it was just a terrible dream. ‘Alice you were right, nothing’s what it seems.’ But then she laughs and says, ‘You’re mad my dear, go back to sleep.’ Kerry Morrow
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Danielle Lynd
Memoir from the Last Frontier pt 1 Far away above the land through the sky there lived a man who abandoned his life on dirt to live where it would never hurt he floats around his empty ship waiting for his mind to slip his thoughts drift down on the ground itchy grass on his bare feet he sees the eyes he loves to meet now he searches through his memory for reasons she would ever leave he should have seen the dorsal fin on what he thought of as his friend now the first scars on his beating heart were teeth marks from this sneaking shark his thoughts return to their rightful place as he stares out into open space he thought that he had learned to cope and somewhere there was still hope until he looked down through his telescope. Everything. Anything. Nothing. Jake Grieco
Every Ending is a New Beginning Every ending is something sad, You know this will never be the same again. Saying good bye to something you love, Is never easier but has to be done. I am sure that you hold the memories forever, And use them to make your next chapter even better.
Convince
The people you meet, things you did, All affected you and made you who you are today.
Gentle gentle
Even as life changes and you move on to different things,
Seeking now
The person you became will still be intact.
Hope is on its way.
The event you ended will still live in you. Remember that in order to start something brand new,
Only seeing
You have to do something else to make room.
Not believing
Leaving a place or a person behind is never easy,
As you drift away.
But how will you know if something else is out there if you never try?
T’Chanie Smith
Please remember that they will never forget you And that every ending is a new beginning, too. Katie Weiler
fences. {totemic midnight} ~ you’ve cruel intentions, dark-seeker of ninety-eight percent [erased] & let-go loneliness, [you know, you know] but that galaxy won’t speak for you, and neither [nor] will the dolls. {porcelain-fake, just like you.} Hannah Klump
29
Dawn
It was dark. Shadow enveloped the house, and the air was heavy and stale. Piles of trash and debris filled every room, making the house seem more like a dumpster. In the back room, two cats crouched under an old sofa while their kitten lay sleeping between them. The mother cat, whose white fur glowed eerily in the darkness, looked up at the father cat with pleading blue eyes. “Sunny,” she meowed, “please let me go out and look for food. When Dawn wakes up, she’ll be hungry.” “No, Snowdrop,” replied Sunny, “I’ll go out. My orange fur will blend in better than yours.” He crept out from under the couch and through the doorway into a large kitchen. The man who owned this house had allowed it to get so filthy that it was hard to smell anything, let alone food. Sunny’s eyes watered as he dug through a pile of trash, trying to find food scraps. They had been here for a month, hiding in the back room. It had all happened so suddenly. Sunny and Snowdrop had been walking in the nearby woods, when a deranged man with tattered clothes and a scruffy beard had grabbed them and locked them in the house. Their kitten Dawn had been born in this place. She had a pale orange, almost white pelt and the most striking amber eyes. I must find food for her, thought Sunny. He and Snowdrop had been giving all of the food they could find to Dawn, and they were both getting terribly thin. He grasped a piece of discarded meat in his jaws and began to make his way into the back room, careful not to wake the man’s dog, Brutus. When he returned, Dawn was awake and mewling feebly for food. Sunny gave her the meat, which she devoured quickly. “I have an idea,” meowed Sunny, his green eyes glowing. “In the kitchen, there’s a window. If we can reach it, we might be able to leave.” Snowdrop looked unconvinced. “I’ve seen that window, and it’s too high up!” she hissed. “But there’s a pile of cardboard boxes near it. We can climb those.” “I guess it’s worth a shot. If we stay here, we’ll starve. But we’ll get Dawn out first.” As the early morning light seeped under the old couch, Sunny opened his eyes to find Snowdrop slinking towards the open doorway. He rose to his paws and followed her. Snowdrop slipped through the doorway, and Sunny peered out after her. She made her way into the kitchen and stopped dead. Lying on the floor was a huge meaty chicken leg. Lying less than a foot from the leg was the sleeping shape of Brutus. Sunny’s eyes widened. Don’t do it, Snowdrop! Despite his silent pleas, weeks of starvation had taken their toll on the white cat. She dashed forward, grabbed the meat, and streaked back towards the room. The sound woke Brutus, and the muscular black and white dog lumbered after her. Sunny dashed under the couch and closed his eyes. He heard a yowl
of pain, and soon the white shape of Snowdrop came hurtling through the doorway. She pelted across the room and dove under the couch, her fur fluffed up in fear. Her eyes were stretched wide, and one of her legs was swollen, most likely broken. “Sunny, take Dawn and get out now,” she urged. “There are people in the house, and they took Brutus. They’re going to take us too.” “Okay, let’s go.” “No, I’m staying here. I’m too hurt to go anywhere. I would slow you down. Just make sure Dawn gets out safely. Go!” Sunny grasped Dawn by her scruff and slipped quietly out the door. He climbed the stack of boxes, which wobbled under his weight. He quickly tossed Dawn out the window and onto the roof. As he crouched down to leap, a huge pair of hands grabbed him. A large man in a gray uniform held him at arm’s length and began to walk towards the front door. Sunny looked back and saw another man reach out the window to take Dawn. Sunny clawed at his captor’s hand, but the soft flesh was covered by a heavy glove. They emerged from the house, and both Sunny and Dawn were tossed into the back of a van. The vans brought them to a small animal shelter, where they both received the food and medical care they had desperately needed. After a few weeks, both cats were separated and adopted out of the shelter. One year later, Sunny sat on the fence of his new backyard, watching the sunset. He could only wonder what had happened to his family. Had the uniformed men found Snowdrop and rescued her? Sunny sighed. What if the man with the beard had found Dawn and taken her back to that house? “Sunny? Sunny, is that you?” the voice made Sunny jump. He turned around. Standing on the fence behind him were two beautiful long haired cats. One had a snowy white pelt and blue eyes. It was Snowdrop! The second was smaller. Her pelt was pale orange, almost white, and her amber eyes shone like the rising sun. It was Dawn. Ellen Uhl
The Path The man took a step out of the cave Young and brave was he It was at dawn’s first gleam That he started his journey. He followed a well-worn path That went off in the far distance It seemed to move And change in every instance The path first took him Through a green field of grass. He followed it for some time, A quick easy pass. As the morning dragged on The field ended and came to a creek It was swift and strong A challenge not for the weak But he saw There was another man there And many options For each man to dare The other man was lazy And tried to go straight through But the current was too strong And he stumbled and lost all his food He stalled and was stuck But tried to continue on Even though he’d never make it far With all his preparations gone. The man was smart though And looked for a better place to cross He found a fallen tree And made it across without loss By that time the sun was high It was noon He found himself at the bottom Of a tall hill, the top did loom He pressed forward Stopping once or twice to rest For he was determined To reach the hill’s crest There were many pits and traps That threatened to collapse His efforts or Send him back down the hill in relapse He lost his way In a maze of rocks
But continued on Stubborn like an ox Through it all he pushed on And finally escaped the maze Felt the gentle wind blow And the sun’s healing rays He was at the top of the hill He could see That the path Went on in ease By this time it was late in the afternoon About three or four Where the day approaches The twilight’s door. He went down the gentle slope The wind in his hair He was tired But in this mood, he did not care. He was once again in a field Where animals frolicked and ran And birds flew over The endless span. On his way, he enjoyed luxuries A waterfall to swim, The smell of unpolluted air, All that was around was pleasure to him. The day, however, was coming to a close. And the man grew tired The day had been long And it came to the point where the journey must retire. As the nighttime sun rose into the sky The man settled down under a tree And reflected on the day He had no regrets, it was filled with glee The many adventures had made him stronger And he learned many new things He had travelled swiftly like some bird With powerful wings So as the man sat with no regrets He smiled as he looked to the sky “Yes,” The man said “This is a good place to die” The man had reached the end of the path It ended at the tree So where your path takes you and where it ends Is up to thee Will Otto
I don’t take the working For granted. I show my appreciation to the Machines and their Maker, By also working, Working and pushing on. They work on, forever more. I work on, forever more.
All parts of me are running, Forever running, Never to stop. All parts of me are machines Unable to see if apart, They work together to give me life. The machines are all over. In my head, heart, and lungs, All working to sustain me.
A future given to me. A future decided by me. A future of success, A future because the machines Pushed on working.
The machines are all over, In my arms, legs, and abdomen, All working to give me freedom.
All parts of me are running, Forever running, Never to stop.
They don’t ask questions For they know there is a point, That point is me. I will not sit back and have the Constant workings go to waste. Will you sit back and have the Constant working go to waste?
Tony Losekamp
MASK My mask on the outside is a very scary one. I am laughing, funny, happy, and kind, But my insides are boiling and sinking. My grief and anguish are screaming to get out, But my mouth will not dare to utter one word. I wish I could tell you how I really did feel. I just live in complete fear. Emily England
Rare Ivory “They want to make buttons out of my bones,” and I can’t stop them. I have no control over my jitters, the hours I sleep, or the air I breathe in. The buttons will be ivory, but how can they conclude that my bones are only white? I have lived a life of endless rainbows: Colors of empathy evaporating into shades of anger. Now I am a stiff pale. No one can restrain me from the life I’ve lived or the ending I wanted; because I have buttons of my own and they tell the tale of my times which resemble my bones: resistant and everlasting.
Puddy Wilch
The Dove and The Dragon I dreamt I woke to the worst of days For this was the day of world’s end. I looked at the scene, looking for order, but my eyes could only perceive chaos. I looked at the sea, but the sea was ablaze, I looked at the ground but the earth was shattered. Then in the sky there was a flash I looked and saw two figures clash. One of them was a small, pure white dove that seemed to bring peace to my soul. The other, however, was a huge red dragon with broken wings which made my soul chaotic and destructive. Each figure had battle wounds, but the dragon seemed to be winning. The dove was being constricted by the dragon, the dove strangling and the dragon laughing. No, I shouted but I spoke with silence. Then in my mind I heard a voice. A voice, as powerful as a volcano erupting, but soft as a gentle breeze. It said, “You can prevent this. All you have to do is be a good person. You don’t have to follow me, but be a good person. This is my advice to the whole world.” Then I woke up, feeling happy. 34 Drew Timmons
A Pity on Me A pity on me to strive for a wan And stale salute on the achievement. For what profound use are such dry And cracked And gypsum words that fail their try At making an oasis of this life like A tallow candle for a star in all its Incalculable light. Nothing but to drown the hypocrite in the sweet Sticky syrup of pretention, and to fill that holey Bowl which never was to be full but to meet its end With something left behind, something to incite passion and Clawing back to the dirt from where it was yanked So violently And so irrelevantly out into the earth. Austin Baurichter Rain Running down my driveway in the pouring rain, Just to catch you before you were gone for good. Then I said what’s been on my mind for a few weeks now, “The least you could do is give me two dates,” But you didn’t hear me. “Don’t you remember calling me caring?” And all you said was “What?” Sounds like everything we’ve been through, You refuse it all. You push aside all I have to offer like I’m not good enough. As the rain was falling, I gave up. I was done trying to convince you, Done trying to make you love me, And I threw my hand up in the air, As the rain fell, I didn’t look back to see if you drove away Because I woke up. Maria Hornsby
35
The Mixing Bowl If I could take a mixing bowl And in it pour you out my soul, You’ll simper as you hurry past And all the world will hide a laugh. And all the while it will stew: Unsifted, never kneaded through As it assumes a vapid hue. Cardboard Castles
Austin Baurichter
Day and Night Sun sets; sun rises, In a cycle day-after-day. Stars shine, Shine bright, Over you and me. Moon changes, Changes fast, Many times a month. Love lives; love fades, But is always close to heart. T’Chanie Smith
It tasted better after the afterthought The way I wished they were Those cardboard boxes that we called castles As the grass beneath us burned Shock leaving as tables were tripped and overturned What you thought you would have But oh, how much I was going to make you learn. Bad we wanted, with no rights to keep But I almost locked those lips Because superficial can be pretty damn deep. Yes you drowned and were a bit confused, But you aren’t the only fool Nothing a pretty picture can’t fix So hang one up for me But I doubt you do Because I burned it with the Cardboard castle I Dedicated to You. 36
Gretchen Weber
Paper
Ode to My Bass Guitar
Once upon a time,
O, handsome young Tybalt
There was a world of paper power.
How regal thou stand
People lived in paper houses -
Smooth neck of pure rosewood
The rich bathed in paper showers.
Onyx body carved by hand Two pickups of silver,
It separated all of us,
Long strings tied in place
How much? What kind? From where?
Proud beautiful Hofner,
When it’s really only paper, A prince of a bass.
Passed down from heir to heir.
Katie Tomblin
But even if it’s worthless, If it’s truly nothing much People killed for that paper, And it became a common crutch.
And it seems only fitting That all of it is green. Implanting greed into our minds So we’ve forgotten what we’ve seen.
Nina De Salvo
37
The Old Ways I contorted my body in strange ways against the music, but in time with its beats. ... I cried in those movements, I screamed in them; however no single drop did that floor feel, no sound did it publish. I breathed in what I had felt and turned it into an artwork hanging forever in that moment, untouched, and unrecorded by technological advances. I go back to the old ways when dances weren’t just for romancing, but for gripping face to foot with feelings I wish I could understand. This way I don’t have to speak, and I don’t have to explain. I can just wallow in the expression I’m trying to express, live in the hope that hovers in the graceful push and pull of a strong body. It is a performance entirely of my own, no sympathy, no “I told you so’s” no blaming, and no taking of the blame. I am clean here moving sweetly, soundlessly, so that any passerby would not take mine or his side. Yes, I was mad at you, but I take it back, and put it in the old ways when dancing was meant for the dancer, expressing what is inexpressible, speaking what requires no speech, listening, without the intention of hearing. Yes, I danced for you, but mainly it was for me. Gretchen Weber Parody of John Meyer’s “Daughters” I know a girl Who puts the cookies inside of my world. But she doesn’t see Just how happy the cookies make me They aren’t the healthiest things But they still make me want to sing And they go right to my thighs But I still need my school cookie high
Chorus: Lunch ladies put dough in circles Then they put it on a tray Then they kinda bake it but mostly they fake it And then they repeat the next day.
My heart you can break You’ll find out much I can take But with my chocolate chips And my dough I’ll go sit Chorus: Cause you ain’t got nothing without a good good uncooked cookie Lunch ladies put dough in circles For the sake of honesty I just want a good cookie Then they put it on a tray It is the reason I get up every morning Then they kinda bake it but mostly they fake it And then they repeat the next day. Chorus: Lunch ladies put dough in circles Ohhh see those chips Then they put it on a tray Made out of chocolate to cross my lips Then they kinda bake it but mostly they fake it Since the day, I went in the cafe And then they repeat the next day. Now I’m still, eating up those things today.
38
Michael Voet
No Hesitation I knew you had to leave But if I could have stopped that bus, I would have, No Hesitation. It’s only been a little more than a day Didn’t think I could miss you this much, Miss you this way. She said “don’t get attached” But did I listen? I know it’s a requirement Something you have to do, But I disapprove of the purpose The length of this so called vacation is too long for my patience to take, Too long for my sanity’s sake. What’s divine paradise for you is burning distress for me. In walking away, You showed no hesitation. Scratching the surface of my ever beating heart, With the lack of reluctance your footsteps represented. I kept holding on to you, Hoping your heart was breaking too, in the moment of our goodbye. but you left with no hesitation, No sadness in your eyes. She said “don’t get attached” But did I listen? Maria Hornsby
Sunshine Rays of warmth covet my skin, It is you I hope to see all day For when I do, I will shed a big grin. Sunshine keep your flashy glow Sunshine stay out, get rid of the snow. With you I am happy With you I am warm As long as you’re out We shall see no storm. In the morning, in the evening I love sunshine; it’s a me thing. 39
Kerry Ragland
The Letter Memories of the letter That I ripped up, Shredded its beauty into ugly pieces. If words were the heart that belonged to me those words I broke. Memories of the letter are a haze, Only remember some of what was said. Try to remember your beautiful words and all that they meant, But I gave it away so easily. I walked away with the confidence of forgetting, Forgetting everything I felt, Everything I could have loved. This would have been requited if I just stayed a little longer, If that letter was still tangible. Memories of the letter, Words you could only say, Destroyed every ounce of sincerity that I received. If I could have just one sentence, Just one torn up piece of it, One piece of April. The time we shared. I still can see you handing it to me, Put your heart in my hands. Memories of the letter The way you used to feel, Memories of what should be. If I could have just one chance to love you the right way, I’d take it, No more holding this back. Long Distance Memories of the letter that I threw away, Memories of you and how I didn’t stay. Saw you standing there; you looked me in the eyes. Reminiscing of that chilly Friday night. Soft moonlight hitting your face, oh what a sight. You’re unlike any other, I realized. When we’re apart, we look up at the skies. My love for you is soaring like a kite, Free and abundant. With you, it’s a delight. I know this is real, not just those lies. Are you feeling the same way I do too? Do you feel the sweet magic when we kiss? I can see in your blue eyes that you do. Sadly, time went by and you left me with this Feeling that kept me holding onto you. Just know I love you, and it’s you that I miss.
Maria Hornsby
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Maggie Cowens
A Letter You told me that you loved me, But how could I ever question that. Eleven years of misery could show me nothing more. You said you weren’t feeling well inside, And that was plain to see. But couldn’t you just get help, Did you ever think of me? You asked me not to hate you, And I haven’t since that day. I could never hold it against you, That your illness wouldn’t go away. You asked me to remember our good times. We had too many to count. A friend and dad rolled into one, That’s what I’d come to know. You asked me not to blame myself, And I know it wasn’t my fault. But I still can’t help but wonder, What I may have done wrong. You told me I was the most precious girl on this earth, But how can that be so? For if I was so precious, Why did you leave me here alone? You said live life to the fullest, And if there’s one thing I learned from you, It’s that life is short so don’t worry, I’m following that request too. You told me to be happy, And Daddy I swear I try. Most days I am successful, But others I fall shy. You asked me to make others happy, And I’d like to believe I do. I just wish that I would have been able, To make you happy too. You said you’d be looking after me from Heaven, And Lord I hope that’s true. Because some days I need you Daddy, And I wonder, do you need me too?
SECRET A lover in the darkness, A smile through gritted teeth, all the reasons for the anger and the hurt lies underneath. The mysterious and hidden; the lies among what’s true. Amazing, all the aching that a single word can do. The pressure here before us leaves our minds’ unanswered calls. Many people fall for secrets,
Ashley Schneider
but a secret never falls. 41
Becca Feldkamp
To a Poor Queen
Under the power of husband new Wastes away poor Gertrude. Pity her number of friends is few Now that her son hath grew. In the rotten state of Denmark Many servants attend to her Now that late Old Hamlet was interred And to Claudius she must defer Wasting away without a remark.
Shattered and broken she retired To her room and desired To speak to the son she admired About what had transpired Before he left the state of Denmark. She, frightened by his daggered word And by his talking to a ghost unheard, Thought him to be absurd Till to her his plan he remarked.
A little hope is given to her mind With her son’s newest find A beauty to which he is intertwined And hopes in marriage with her to bind. In the otherwise hopeless Denmark. She believes Ophelia is simply sweet And being her mother would be a treat Their family would be complete When “I do” was remarked.
While to Wittenberg he was gone She thought of him at every dawn While she awoke alone withdrawn From murderous Claudius’ brawn, And prayed for the state of Denmark While returning to his mother, Hamlet met his situation’s brother And begin to wonder another Soliloquy of remarks.
But as her son grew madder by the day There was nary a thing she could say To keep Ophelia feeling gay As Claudius made her obey To “save” the state of Denmark. The plan was to trick her darling boy Using his lover as a ploy Crushing all Gertrude’s hopes for joy With the treacherous remarks.
Then her boy finally returned But she was concerned As the brother of his lover spurned Had of his father’s murder learned And wanted revenge in Denmark. Hamlet embraced this fate As he accepted the duel’s date And Gertrude had to sit and wait To hear her son’s last remarks.
Her son did not fall for the trap, Ophelia felt like a sap When from his madness he did not snap But, rather, with a verbal slap He cursed the state of Denmark. And so the almost daughter-in-law Would to the courtyard withdraw, With time to murmur one last hurrah Never to make another remark.
The fight began with much restraint But escalated with turns and feints The poor queen began to feel faint And from the poisoned cup she drank And took her last look at Denmark. This was the best way for her to end Her son from the poison she did defend And did not see him to death descend With no royals to remark. Allison Ecker
*inspired by Alfred Lord Tennyson and William Shakespeare
Stick Figure Space Man pt 3 And I think maybe I’m the shark Teeth marks on my own heart But can I be blamed for blaming someone else? I shoved my image down my throat so now I’m choking on myself I can hardly notice my personal spaceship And that I have made this galaxy to hide inside it I think you’re right and we were wrong So I’m gone All the pieces I left in you will grow But hopefully I’ll never know Again I claim to be a man in space But we are all just a stenciled trace Of what our minds think we ought to be I had to live in space to see For when our outlines cease to be That nothing fits in nothing splendidly
Jake Grieco
How Much is There Left? I have a clock in my room that doesn’t tell the right time but at nights, in the silence, I like to listen to it chime ’cause when you’re sitting in silence, you hear nothing else think about nothing else except Time.
We have so little of it So why do we waste so much of it?
Matthew Heyl
Pour Les Jeunes Un jeune homme à Paris Siffle quand il marche Il marche dans les rues Il adore sa ville Et quand la pluie commence, il siffle Les journaux lui disent des maux du monde
Double-Edged Sword
Il les accepte, il pense, il siffle
Imagine if you had a twin, Exactly just like you, Same looks, same voice, same style, Only a different name and identity.
Et la monde est sombre Qui sera là à souvenir?
Now imagine this twin an angel, Purged inhumanly, Yet roams the town by your side As your absolute perfect copy.
Jeune homme, n’oublie pas l’espoir Jeune fille, n’oublie pas le courage
Now imagine the angel is fallen And always in the way, Breaking rules and doing things You never would attempt. Lying, stealing, cheating, more Until their soul’s corrupted And you are now the angel, The absolutely trusted.
Et quand la monde est sombre Sifflez, sifflez, Et rapporter la lumière Katie Streit
T’Chanie Smith
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VULNERABLE
McDuff Your eyes are cloudy, filled with cataracts Your movement is slowing, like that of a turtle. The age has caught up to you, McDuff.
Your teeth are rotting out, Your breath is that of spoiled eggs. The age has caught up to you, McDuff.
Your fur is discolored, Your bark has vanished. The age has caught up to you, McDuff.
Although you are blind,
How can the world refuse me? I have so much more to say. Such words only abuse me and the hurt is here to stay. My losses only use me; my voice is endless quiet. My selfishness consumes me while my soul creates a riot. Why must emotions just confuse me? I cannot stand my ground. The lies will just go through me and my goodness can’t be found. I hope this feeling won’t pursue me. In my heart, this wrath could win. My failures overthrew me. What am I beneath my skin?
Although you are slow,
Becca Feldkamp
Although your teeth do not shine, And your fur does not glow, Remember, McDuff, Although the age has caught up to you, Your tail will forever wag.
Kerry Ragland 45
McNick grad in the spotlight at Playhouse in the Park Jessie Kaising When 2005 graduate Katie McClellan left McNicholas, she never dreamed she would ever be a Catholic school girl again, let alone be paid to be one. Over the Tavern, a play by Tom Dudzick, opens on Sunday, Jan. 23, at Playhouse in the Park and features McClellan as Annie. Annie is a teenage girl living in 1959 Buffalo, NY, who wants the boys to at least look at her, and maybe even like her. The play runs through Saturday, Feb. 19. McClellan credits much of her success to her roots in McNick’s theatre program, as well as her family’s urge to have her try something new. Q. Who is the character Annie? A: The character I play is Annie, the 16-year-old sister of a family, with three brothers. Q. How does one go about getting cast in such a large production? A.I got this role through what I think was a combination of good strategy, networking, and luck. I researched a while ago who the casting director is that the Playhouse uses (most big regional theaters have someone they use consistently), as I’ve always wanted to work at this incredible (Tony Award-winning) theater, and it would be amazing to be able to work professionally in my hometown. His name is Rich Cole, and he casts for countless regional theaters across the country, as well as Broadway, Off-Broadway, and TV/Film. It was a 6-week class in New York (where I live now), limited to 8 actors, and I basically did it for networking purposes, so that he could see me work. We’d be on a first name basis, and maybe he’d call me in for an audition or two in the coming years. It went really well, and as soon as the official casting notice came out for this show, I emailed him to see if he would see me for this role (even though I didn’t have agency representation, and I was not an Equity member.) He graciously gave me an appointment, and I didn’t expect anything to come of it rather than getting to officially audition for him and (hopefully) Ed Stern, the artistic director at the Playhouse. After a good first audition and a solid callback a couple days later, Rich let me know that afternoon, to my absolute surprise, that I’d booked it. Q. What made you want to act and when did you start? A: I grew up playing instruments and taking dance class, but had never done any acting until high school. My dad was asked to direct McNick’s musical my freshman year because of his opera background and directing experience, so he and my mom coaxed me into auditioning, mostly because I knew how to sing and read music. I resisted, since I didn’t think the musical was the most socially acceptable extracurricular activity I could get involved in, but I did it as a favor to my dad. I ended up really enjoying the whole experience by the time it was over, particularly the acting, and it prompted me to audition for the play my sophomore year. That was an even more amazing experience, and gave me a little boost of confidence and desire to explore more theatre, so I did every show I could until graduating (and the musicals became a special thing for my dad and me to do together every year).
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Q. Do you think McNick aided in your current success as an actress today? A: Absolutely. My involvement with theater at McNick was what made me decide to attend a conservatory program for college (I received my Bachelor of Fine Arts in acting from the University of Miami in Florida). Mrs. Beiting (former guidance counselor and musical producer) cast me in my first play at McNick, You Can’t Take It With You, and it was such a great experience I couldn’t wait to keep doing it. I worked with Mrs. Spurlock (former performing arts teacher and director) on many shows after that, and I’m so grateful to her for helping to foster my interest in theater. Q. What was your favorite play/musical that you performed in at McNick, and why? A: I really enjoyed all the shows I did at McNick, but my favorite was probably playing Annie Sullivan in The Miracle Worker my junior year (guess I have an affinity for Annies). It was a very challenging role, physically, emotionally, and trying to don a decent Irish accent, but I was excited to have something so meaty to work on. We also had a really stellar cast, so it was great being able to work with such a talented group (particularly Molly Behan who played Helen – we played really well off each other, which is so vital for that show). It was very gratifying to do something so historically and culturally significant. Q. Who was your favorite teacher at McNick and why? A: Mrs. Combs was my favorite teacher at McNick. I had her my freshman and senior year for English, and even though she was tough, she made the material interesting. She held us accountable for our performance, but as long as you kept up and did your work, we could have a great time in class. I think a good high school English teacher is a really invaluable asset, and I’ve always had great appreciation for her. Q. What advice do you give to McNick students who have dreams of becoming an actor/ actress someday? A: Be totally sure it’s something you’re prepared to get in to. You hear this all the time from actors, but the industry is so hard. Your real full-time job (in addition to your other full-time survival job, probably restaurant work) becomes auditioning, not the actual performing, which you do so much less frequently, so you have to be okay with that; you have to develop a really thick skin so you can take the constant rejection and move on with your life every day. It’s also extremely important to have a life outside of this. I think that being a well-rounded person is vital to being a good actor – you spend all your time portraying real people whose lives have nothing to do with this business, so in my opinion, first-hand knowledge of normalcy is crucial.
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Review of Over the Tavern “I read where there are over thirteen hundred religions in the world…I’d like to shop around,” admits the twelve-year-old, wise-cracking Rudy Pazinski to his confirmation advisor Sister Clarissa. Rudy, played by Spencer Davis Milford, is the hilarious protagonist of “Over the Tavern,” a comedy by Tom Dudzick currently being performed at Cincinnati’s Playhouse in the Park until February 19. The Pazinski family, consisting of Rudy, his siblings Georgie (Braden Phillips), Eddie (Eric Nelsen), Annie (Katie McClellan, Class of ’05), and their parents Chet (Kevin Cutts) and Ellen (Celeste Ciulla), presents a memorable outlook on living life as Roman Catholics. It’s autumn of 1959 and the Pazinskis are dwelling in a cramped New York apartment located above the father’s tavern. When Rudy, who is weeks away from the sacrament of confirmation, starts questioning Catholicism, chaos ensues. Facilitating the action is fifteenyear-old Eddie who is struggling to repress his “impure” thoughts, along with sixteen-year-old Annie who is having trouble coming to terms with her self-image. Not only must the children deal with their own problems, but they also must take care of their autistic thirteen-year-old brother, Georgie. Whether it be having a family breakdown, accidentally teaching Georgie a curse word, “breaking” the heart of Sister Clarissa (Darrie Lawrence) and sending her to the hospital, or forgetting the spaghetti, the Pazinskis just don’t seem able to embrace the idea of a “normal” family. Though the issues that are dealt with throughout the play are serious in nature, the cunning one-liners of each character, specifically Rudy and his Ed Sullivan impersonation, provide that comedic leverage that keeps the crowd roaring with laughter from start to finish. It honestly felt like being a member of the live studio audience for a television sitcom. There are times when the characters seem somewhat stereotypical; however, each cast member adds genuine depth and “realness” to the character he or she portrays. I was particularly impressed with the development of Sister Clarissa, whose strict orthodox teaching matches wits with Rudy’s boundless curiosity. Though the play seems to lightheartedly poke fun at Catholicism, it really never goes “too far.” Being a Catholic myself, there was never a time where I felt offended. In all honesty, I think that it actually made the jokes even more hilarious because I could see where they were coming from and relate. Through the character of Rudy, questions and ideas are brought up about the faith that were not only prevalent then, but are still asked fifty years later. All in all, I strongly suggest buying a ticket to “Over the Tavern” before it sells out. The acting is superb, the characters are genuine, and the show is just downright entertaining. Once you take your seat, be prepared for two and a half hours of nonstop hilarity. 48
Sterling Shaw
Escape With Me Let’s follow the sunshine Let’s go with the wind Let’s find us some freedom Leave old life behind There’s nothing left for us Everyone has gone Just please venture with me It won’t take too long We’ll stop mid-of-nowhere Not caring ’bout time Not caring location Or reason or rhyme And you will be with me Right next to my heart Just me and you, darling We won’t be apart This real world, it kills us Takes our minds away I wanna leave this place Because we can’t stay I’m sick of this cold trap I have been in all year Let’s follow the sunshine And get out of here Katie Tomblin
Masquerade Masks help hide The handsome faces, Girls’ hair is done In frilly laces, Cupid’s arrow Each lover chases, As they join the dance. The steps are simple, Plain and clean. The waxed floor gleams With glowing sheen. Each knows well What it could mean If they join the dance. Swathes of fabric Twirl and spin As the movements Start again. Dancers flow with Foe and friend Now that they’ve joined the dance. Now with exhaustion Slowly pending, The dance is reaching Its sad ending. Broken hearts Will now need mending Because they joined the dance. Danielle Lynd
Annie How can you love someone you never knew? But I know very well that I love you. What would you like? Who would you be? Would you look anything like me? Would we be friends? Would you steal my clothes? I guess God is the only one who knows. You would have been twelve now, almost a teen. Now that is a sight I would have liked to have seen. Oh what I would give to have you here,
MIRROR
My little sister whom I hold dear. Through the sadness, it’s nice to say: I know I will get to meet you one day. And when I die, I hope you’ll be Standing in heaven waiting for me. Jill Schmidt
The Predictable Identical Nothing
Look into the mirror. Tell me what you see. A pair of eyes, a nose, a mouth you say, is what makes me. But I am seeing you much deeper In a way which none can test. This masquerade is over. For, the only you is best. Your mistakes and all your failures Are what built the you, you hide. But the mask of what you’re scared of shades the gorgeous you inside.
Hide behind a word to say what you want to say, without saying anything at all
Becca Feldkamp
Life. Secret. Pain. Hope. Love. Smile. Heartbreak. Free. Death. A vague work of nothing that I will never understand, no matter how hard I try.
George Tabet
moths. {the persona of a puzzled teenager} she is dust mites and the worn-out leather in jeans, a faint melancholy trapped in its own captivity. she wears porcelain for a face, because she was too quiet to say “no” once they changed her. it is a shell that binds strictly her feelings to her organs, like a straitjacket, and she keeps it all stored in her ribs, so her heart always suffers while it remembers what it was foolish enough to keep silent, its mouth zipped solemnly shut. her eyes are clear marbles with airy designs wrapping intricately about its circular interior, to show that she is too good, too pure, to have feelings like everyone else. there lies nothing but blankness within them. they are hollow beauty. like her zipped heart, she keeps her thin little lips the colour of dying orchids shut, and lets her mouth wean downward into an almost crescent-like pout, staring at the mundane crowd flourishing around her. she always wears what they tell her, just like the little lachrymose robot she is, sweet as the fakest candy with a hidden bitter interior. looking at her and drinking in her words makes you dry to realize she’s drowning you with her incarcerated, programmed laughter. her hair is silk wires of dyed blonde and platinum-auburn highlights, like summer warmth coalescing with dancing autumn leaves as they brush upon the cooling ground. she keeps her body thin and her rebellious thoughts thinner, so they can’t see them. she is echoes. {in darkness} a wanderer of enmity. a split snake-tongue. a terrified misfit. she is their yesterday, their today, and part of their tomorrow, if she’s good enough. she is everything. she is nothing {but a follower}. just dust on the windowsill, basking in the pale moonlight, and wings at a lamp, just waiting to be forgotten. Hannah Klump
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A Terminal Wife’s Plea Can you stay when my hair falls from my head? When I’m heaving up sick, crying in bed? Will you let me yell out loud, Scream at the walls until my voice runs out?
Can you hold me all the night And watch as I slowly enter the tunneling light?
When my face changes and my eyes dim When I become a part of everything that has been Will love be so blind as to watch me while I die?
Press On In a moment of self-reflection, follow the pattern of the mind that makes the world spin.
Gretchen Weber
Oblivion The fire drill you missed, That day the February wind blew wildly around two o’clock
There is a physical struggle to keep going, shoulders slightly slouched forward. And a phony facial mask, of tired determination. An imagination of unresolved problems of the past, present, and future. Hidden behind a wall of insecurity that no one will ever see.
And my eyes went to the curve in that pavement, The blacktop hill, I still remember what we were talking about, While walking down that small slope years ago. We were the last to follow and I spoke with surprise The sun shined brightly upon that bond that was growing. The fire drill you missed, I stand here and reminisce. Our moment on the hill;
Until the time comes to begin a new life, that starts today. George Tabet
Fades back to oblivion And I went inside. Maria Hornsby
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Warrior in Us
The Key
I’ll tell you a story One of Truth One of Sacrifice
In the center of the world, Lies answers locked in secret. There is a key, but what would you risk, Just to simply see it?
There were of Two Armies Different in ways One which had dire need of Resurrection One not whole-minded in what was to Come. There were of Two Generals Different and alike Companions all the same Companions of peace The mission was of Gold Both coveted, yet desired no bloodshed. Their missions were of the same goal, The Future was already set One day, the General had a Moment Realization, which led to not of half-minded But of whole-mindedness Moment of Sacrifice
See the answers, of the questions, of our existence, in the past. That key unlocks the answersBut it’s hidden in my chest. In the center of my heart, In the center of my soul. So, you’ll have to kill me firstIf you truly want to know. Will you take the shot? Watch me breathe that final breath? Or continue as you have, Your mind stirring with unrest. Nina De Salvo
The General said, “Hold back, my troops. Let the other take the Glory, for we don’t deserve such fine things, when the King will deliver.” Then that Day, came One General celebrated their victory, One General smiled at that victory, Hoping that the Gold would satisfy the Other forever as they waited for their eternal Glory. Alison Meineke
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The Perfect Excuse
“Oh, this is great!” I mutter to myself. “Late again, Sean.” “Sorry, it’s all my mom’s fault.” It wasn’t. I knew they were going to call my house and ask why I was late, so I had all day to think of a good excuse to tell when I got home. I walked over to my seat and put my head on my desk to think of something good. Wait, it’s coming. Yes, this will work perfectly… “Sean, what’s the answer to number sixteen?” My head snaps off my desk. Hold on, I have to write this down before I forget. My mind sometimes wanders very easily. “Sean?” Okay, just answer his question first. Alright, I raise my head and look at the paper in front of me. It’s a true or false question. I left it blank. Great. 50/50. The important thing is to pick a random answer and say it like there is no way it could be wrong. Even if you have an idea what the right answer could be, this is the best way to go. Because most of the time, no one has any idea what they are talking about and they will believe anything you say if you just say it the right way. “True.” “Wrong. By the way, you failed yesterday’s test.” Big surprise. “You know, if you just tried a little harder you would be much better off. If your grade slips any further…” Blah. Blah. Blah. “…You’re a smart kid.” “Thanks.” “But I think you would be better off with a tutor.” I don’t. “Okay.” “See me after class so we can talk about it. Alright, next question. Savannah, what’s the answer to number seventeen.” “False, no true. Wait, no. Yeah, it’s true.” “Savannah, just read what you wrote on your paper.” “What paper?” “The one on your desk.” “Oh, umm. False.” “Savannah, you had this one right on your paper.” “Oh yeah. I forgot. It’s true.” I look over at Savannah. She’s holding back a smile. There’s a big, red A on her worksheet. That was all just an act to look stupid for some attention. She always does that.
“Next question, number eighteen, Robert.” “Umm, I don’t know if I got the right answer. I just wrote something down. I don’t know how I got it.” “What did you write?” “False.” “That’s correct. Alright, let’s keep going…” “I dodged a bullet there,” Robert leans over and whispers to me. Yeah, good for you. “Hey, I got a funny joke to tell you.” “I’m busy.” “Was that why you were sleeping?” I don’t answer. “So a guy walks into a bar…” “Not now. Tell me after class.” “… and he goes up to a guy sitting in the corner…” I put my head back on my desk. No matter how uninterested I try to look, Robert just keeps talking. It doesn’t matter what I am doing, he will just talk to himself if he has to. Sometimes I see how long he will talk before I get to say a single word to him. “Sean, wake up.” A hand is tapping my shoulder. “The bell rang.” I grab my backpack. “Hold on. We need to talk about your grades.” “Okay.” We walk over to his desk. “Have a seat, Sean.” I sit down across from him. “Sean, are you having problems…” “Yes, with…” “…concentrating in school and…” …remembering what I was thinking about today.” “…does it have anything to do with…” “My mom, no it wasn’t her fault.” “…you being tardy all the time?” “Wait, what was your question?” “Sean, if you could just…” “Hold on …” “…stop interrupting me and…” “…let me think…Yes! My perfect excuse! Man, what was it? I can’t believe I forgot.” George Tabet
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Breathe, then take me into the sky Far away but sunshine doesn’t cry, The world is dark and you are my light. Like owls’ wings take me into flight Soar the ocean floors then in the sun Summer fields, now let’s go run. Under fall trees, let’s dream from above About the year we fell in love. Midnight kisses beyond this world About the most amazing girl I still taste it on my lips. My heart so still began to do flips Like far away dreams let ours become true, If my heaven was home it would live with you. Take my heart because I have signed your name, Let our story live in our picture frame, Like a sweet smell of morning breezes. Without you, my mouth only freezes The warmth of summer is in you And when two was made there once was one.
Abby Simpson
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