Elevate

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Elevate

2014-2015 Notre Dame Academy Literary Magazine


Notre Dame Academy Inklings presents...

Elevate 2014-2015 Edited by Emely Garcia, Shana Hadi, Aria Empakeris, Kristen Hull, and Inklings Jody Hill, moderator Cover Photo by Aria Empakeris

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Lonely Nation No one comes in to kiss me goodnight anymore And I don't say I love you as much anymore To the moon and back is not in our vocabulary And I don't close my closet, no monsters come to scare me There's no holding hands in these troubled days of war No one wraps me in their arms behind a screen door There's no voicing hopes or thinking dreams, now it's salary And I sing songs to a star, the sun's dark shadow sentry Please take me far away from this fool's paradise Where everyone is isolated, stuck on ice In this society we’re required to sink or swim But if we tread in circles, then our future is quite grim Our country is a tunnel with no natural light There's cold and there's hunger, there's abuse and there's fright But tunnels end somewhere, if there are lanterns we can see We can change this nation, build relationships, and be free Boyce Buchanan Class of 2017 Journey Together We wander around, lost and afraid, Shadows and fears, monsters in sight. It’s a dark, scary world, yet We walk alone, searching for light. All we really want is someone to tell us that we’re special. That we matter in their eyes. Just a bit of attention. A little speck of kindness. A sprinkle of delight. What many of us can’t find is a friend – what all of us really want. But we forget that change starts slowly, And that this light comes from the heart. So, I want to tell you, we walk together — And on in this journey, we’re not apart. Shana Hadi Class of 2017

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Shana Hadi Class of 2017

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Content Place My pen fiercely strikes against the page before me as an axe that powerfully strikes lumber. Blue ink splashes the paper with life, leaving an effervescent glow. Cursive playfully adorns the lines of my page. The pen implores me to spill every bit of my soul, like red wine that pours over white carpet. I wriggle, squirm, hold onto my inner world for dear life but then It happens. A warmth spreads from my core to my right arm. My right ring finger tingles, Words flow. I am absorbed, transcended into another dimension. A realm where I hold no reserve, but share my words and thoughts with others. I am free to exist and happily do so. Where I write, I am in a content place. When I am in a content place, I write. Katherine Irajpanah Class of 2015 Dreams Space... That’s where dreams happen. No gravity. Free to float. Sometimes the best place to be. In silence, alone. A pleasant view, looking out, but also looking around. It can be very cold, but it could also be at the other extreme. Look, a star. 4


Light hugs and twirls around. It drifts on by. Not too many worries, only the other galaxies to watch. Pressure it can happen. Dream suits weren’t meant to last forever, even if you want it to be. Sometimes the cosmonaut needs to return back home. Katherine Irajpanah Class of 2015 A Desire to Soar Stuck to the ground Born from clay, I am But born from sky, I wish Will forever here I stand? Will I fly to here and back Out of ground, into air With the wind and sun Or stand on land, unaware? I wish to soar above With the birds and sun Through the clouds and stars To be where they’re from I want to laugh with the sky When she’s gay and glad Or comfort the days When she’s gray and sad Let me be up there In the world above To see and know The place I will love Naomi Estrada Class of 2015 5


Emely Garcia Class of 2018

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Of Course I wear the dress, the face paint, the smile Why? only for you For you to smile, to take pride, to be happy in what you have made But is it ever enough? no Would you be happier if I were prettier, smarter, better? of course Are you perfect? no Then why do I have to be? I’m only human When did that become an excuse? It’s true But don't you want to prove it wrong? You don't have to strive for perfection But you can't stop doing your best You say I don't have to But you complain when I don’t Be prettier Be kinder Be wiser Be perfect Can I be myself? No, I must change Why? Because we are born selfish, evil, greedy No, we must change Yes, we can change For you and for me For our children and their children So they won't have to try be perfect So it comes naturally to them Don't you think we could eventually get there No, but we can get close Why? Because I love you Why? Because I love you I didn't need to repeat it twice Nothing more, nothing less Goodbye God Bless I wish you the best Nayely Gonzalez Class of 2018

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I Am The Sister I am the sister, I wear the dress and the diamonds and the makeup, When it is time to eat I make the food when they sit I am the last But I wait patiently stacking my chips For when eat I will have a feast and they will look at me with envy, And I will eat at the head of the table where I belong, And he will sit across And their eyes will see the truth that I have always been American Nayely Gonzalez Class of 2018

Red Light Every morning there is a stoplight just beyond the desolate gray overpass my father and I drive through on my way to school, and every morning the light is green and we pass it. Every morning, with one exception. One morning, as we approached the stoplight beyond the bridge, I thoughtlessly watched the light go from green to yellow, and felt a jolt as the car abruptly stopped. I snapped out of my mindless daze as the frantic and blurring world around me suddenly came to a standstill. I turned my head in an effort to regain my thoughtless state, but instead I saw a dark haired young woman, maybe in her twenties, dressed in layers of dull, ragged clothing: shirts, sweaters, a jacket, all over one pair of black leggings. Beside her stood a stroller piled high with blankets, clothes, food, and sticking out among all that clutter, the bright pink legs of a toddler. The woman held a flimsy cardboard sign with thick, black, scribbled letters, incomprehensible in the distance between us. As I pressed my warm hand to the icy car window and almost distinguished the words she had written, the light turned green and we just drove past. Caitlyn Walker Class of 2015

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Emely Garcia Class of 2018

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My Dear Los Angeles My dear Los Angeles, the green grass you once had is now gray cement The stars that once shone are now on the sidewalk, stepped on The trees replaced with tall buildings, higher than the clouds The once blue sky, polluted by smog. But Oh, my dear Los Angeles, how I love you when the sun turns off How the town glistens in the moonlight How Hollywood becomes a loud colorful mess How Downtown becomes a place where you can be free How the Ghettos play music of all kinds How Santa Monica doesn't end after 12:00 a.m. How the Nuart is the place to be on Saturday nights. Oh, my dear Los Angeles, even if you aren't as before You are still beautiful by the shore Emely Garcia Class of 2018 Open Book It seems to me there are stranger things to see when you pick up a book You look down at the city lights You look up at the pink sky. You look down and there is that same rushy brook you thought you heard. You look to the left and there are those lights again. You look up to the sky and it's nighttime when-Suddenly, you look down and to the right, there's a wolf howling at the moon. You get that dizzy feeling spiraling until you hit bottom. No more lights, no more brook, no more wolf, but the moon remains. Alas, the book is closed and away to sleep you go, Waiting to return. Kristen Hull Class of 2017

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The Return of Hope Two steps behind the converging group, slowly merging to their left. They take the path that guarantees success, I am prone to failure. Consistence guides them as they do fine, but my completeness surprises them. I dig deep as they rule the hills, my mountains are yet to be found. Aria Empakeris Class of 2017

A Ballad of the Poetic Mind I don’t understand that single one, the dying day, the flying sun When do the clouds decide to sleep? the darkest hour, the highest deep I don’t get the reason why, the crying question, the tepid sigh I can’t seem to see where the tree falls, the water drying, the battle calls Is there an answer to this sound? the deaf explosion, not yet found Is there north where there is moss? the stately rhyme, the wooden cross Is there a place where this should end? a poet’s mind goes on Aria Empakeris Class of 2017

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My Hope Reaches I am always reaching
 Though rarely succeeding
 I am broken, and I am almost destroyed My wings torn off
 White feathers stamped into dust – But my hope is not fragile:
 It flies –
 It roars —
 It slays all of my hardships
 It defeats each thread of doubt It laughs if I give up and leave Since it knows I will return — It stays with me in the dark depths of misery So even when I am drowned in dying thoughts It keeps my head afloat to see stars above me It lights the way and helps me up — And so I try again, my limbs still shaky
 I throw myself onto rugged shore
 My lungs straining, screaming, bursting at seams Nothing left but hope within me — I force myself to crawl And then I stand
 And then I walk
 And then I run And then I fly — For my hope carries me on its back
 My hope lifts me up so I can reach my stars So I can reach
 Reach – I am always reaching — Shana Hadi Class of 2017

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Beyond the Window of the Bus brick, stones, and dimes sidewalk cracks not mine split windowpanes split vision one figure two insights representational buildings above my eyes and bus unknowingness being built beyond all our times Aria Empakeris Class of 2017

Shana Hadi Class of 2017

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No More I am neither the language of my fathers, the curved language carved in my history; nor am I the sharp, angular strokes of the language I carry. I am neither a child soothed in the embrace of a bright future nor an adult capable of seeking dreams nor an elder reminiscing, whispering about ages past. I am not the seas, holding whispered mysteries. I am not the sky, invisible and silent. I am of the Earth, of earth, solid — yet unstable. I am a warrior once subject to the shadows Death bequeaths to our world — and the Stranger. I shall meet Death while curtsying, coyly bowing my head, a dagger clenched behind me, for It is not something I shall ever embrace. I am the stars in the sky, marring the void in existence, Death's Emptiness. I am the one who reveres the Three, the True. It matters not when you end me, for I am become Life, the Creator of worlds, and I will be more. Ava Badii Class of 2017

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Still Left Unsaid You’re scared, little one, but don’t be afraid There’s still time for you to change Even if you fail, don’t give up hope! Just try again, just say a few words Don’t let this chance trickle away like sand, For “next time” often means “never again” Each time you push your chances away Your spirit dies slowly, your eyes start to fade Be emboldened – say your words – just try Your confidence will grow, and soon you will fly, So you need to speak up before it’s too late Before the moon fades and the stars go away For one day you’ll be in your grave, buried, dead And the words will die with you, still left unsaid Shana Hadi Class of 2017

Kristen Hull Class of 2017 15


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