iliad Literary-Art Magazine, Volume 49 "Prometheus"

To the Reader:

As the creators and innovators of our school, the student body faces challenges, makes sacrifices and perseveres in order to enact positive changes in our community. In the name of that struggle, this year’s theme will challenge readers to think about the constant change within society and how that changes us.

Welcome to the 2024 edition of the iliad Literary-Art Magazine, “Prometheus.”

As a first-time leader of a literary-art program, it took time for me to figure out the ways in which I wanted to run this organization. I’m beyond grateful to the iliad Editorial Board for being as hard-working and innovative as they were in helping the program reach our goals this year.

As a program, we have committed to our goals and values in the way we plan and provide outreach to the school. Our various platforms, which include a magazine, website and social media, include a diverse range of creative individuals at Clarke Central High School and its feeder middle schools, representing the diversity of our community as a whole. The creators and innovators of our school are visionaries whose art and expression deserve to be seen and we are committed to encouraging all creators at our school to create, no matter their race, grade, sexuality or ethnicity.

I am beyond excited to be able to share this magazine with the CCHS community, as well as my friends and family. I’m also honored to be able to collaborate with all the artists and writers in the CCHS community.

We hope you enjoy the 49th edition of the iliad, “Prometheus.”

Olivia Hendershot, Editor-in-Chief

To the Reader:

The theme of this year’s iliad is “Prometheus.” Prometheus was a Greek Titan, who is said to have stolen fire from the gods and given it to humanity. Our theme invokes the legendary Titan as a metaphor for technological growth within society.

The subsections within the magazine will reflect the process that occurs when we create something new. We are constantly reimagining the world around us, but change does not come without its challenges. As such, the magazine will be divided into four subsections, “Ambition,” “Defiance,” “Consequence” and “Eternity.” Each section resembles a step taken to make creation anew.

Resembling our initial instinct to create something new or achieve a goal is “Ambition.” This section covers the forethought before we take action. Pieces in this subsection reflect a fiery passion, confidence and persistence.

“Defiance” conveys the action of making progress. Prometheus defied the gods in order to advance civilization. A plan of action can be meticulous and clean, as reflected in this subsection.

Defining the effect of a risk or sacrifice is “Consequence.” This section makes us wonder if progress is worth the initial outcome. Pieces reflect the burden of our actions, and whether we will choose to see chaos or peace.

Finally, “Eternity” represents the continuous cycle of creation and advancement. The kinds of pieces in this subsection communicate fresh approaches to creation and the never-ending fusion of past processes.

Prometheus’s story can be told throughout time as it conveys the many forms of our technological growth. With this magazine, we hope readers will question what our future holds as technology and creativity continue to advance.

Olivia Hendershot, Editor-in-Chief

Table of Contents

Ambition

8...9 Inception

Elise Siegmund // watercolor & pen

10 Under the Sky’s Embrace

Caroline Orbock // free-verse poem

11 Sunset Reverie

Georganna Herb // watercolor

12 Moon and Stars

Meaghan Gauley // collages

13 I Thought You Were Helping

Emlyn McKinney // rhyming quatrains

14 Something’s a Miss

Koah McClellan // digital graphic

15 A Musing of Time

Niles Flath // villanelle

16 Copper by Copper

Copper Callahan // wire sculpture/jewelry

17 Remembrance of Autumn

Sasha Barkan // free-verse poem

18 Dear Intuition

Victoria Garland // open letter

19 Embracing the Predator

Jay Braswell // pen & marker

20 Traditional Henna Mehndi

Khadijah Bhuiyan // traditional henna

21 Genesis

Kelbi Phillips // free-verse poem

22 Elise

Addy Root // ceramic

23 Melodic Love

Angel Tejada // free-verse poem

Defiance

24...25 Intermediary

Elise Siegmund // watercolor & pen

26 Queen

Cameron Mojock // digital graphic

27 Drag is Burning

Peter Atchley // free-verse poem

28 Mortality

Maya Clement // personal essay

29 Blurry Vision

Scarlett Alston // pen & paint

30 Song of Myself

Wyatt Meyer // sheet music

31 I’m Stressed

Sekou Sesay // mixed media

32 Embracing Contrast

Josie Thrasher // mixed media

33 Refusal of the Call (Gilded)

Anna Shaikun // dictionary poem

34 Undisturbed Chaos

Sofia Morales // pen drawing

35 Prière de Nuit op. 3

Andréas Dillies // prayer poem

36 Interlude

Waylon Vaughn // short story

37 Comfort

Finn Sleppy // mixed media

38 Quiet Through Chaos

Isabelle Duncan // photogragh

39 My Life in America

Kamila Duran // free-verse poem

40 Through the Looking Glass

Molly Harwell // haikus

41 Girlygirlgirlboy

Syrus Merva // crochet

Consequence

42...43 Cataclysm

Elise Siegmund // watercolor & pen

44 Butterfly Cake

Kai Menke // collage

45 Over Dinner

Margo McDaniel // haikus

46 Growth

Amya Hopkins // personal essay

47 Reflection & Mind of a Teenage Girl

Cameron Mojock // painting

48 The Unfortunate Lovers

Flora Gallego Lomax // graphite

49 My (de)composition

Eudora Dawson // free-verse

50 heArt

Ada Kennedy // digital graphic

51 Dagger

Michael Obi-Okoye // free-verse poem

52 Paper Thin

Ollie Hendershot // perspective poem

53 Not a Sight Seen

Selene Ingersoll // pen & marker

54 Without Lips

Cooper Jones // painting

55 Romantic Demise

Niles Flath // free-verse poem

56 Three of a Kind

Audrey St. Onge // series of haikus

57 Fade Into You

Plae Gyi // charcoal

Eternity

58...59 Ameliorate

Elise Siegmund // watercolor & pen

60 Gee Christmas

Kai Whitmire // digital graphic

61 Tom Cruise Angel Jara // villanelle

62 Catalysmic Discovery

Sam Harwell // script

63 Whale Eyed

Max Burnham // mixed media

64...65 The Sky in the Making

Itzel Delgado // mixed media ceramic

66...67 Belting in the Bayou

Daniel Cruz // photogragh

68 Into a Black Hole

Hadia Alkhafaji // painting

69 You Pour Into Me

Mattie Pittard // free-verse poem

70 Ablaze Daniel Cruz // personal essay

71 Empty Space Cortni Veasley // ceramic

72 Void Of The Unknown Aza Khan // monologue

73 Twin Moons Arrow Callahan // pen drawing

Ambition

It takes the molten glass to form sculptures And encourages me to shape the blaze.

— Emlyn McKinney, “I Though You Were Helping” // pg. 13

Under the Sky’s Embrace

Caroline Orbock // senior free-verse poem

As my body lies against the sharpened grass, my head leans up toward the sky.

I wonder if my gaze will be set upon the sun when I die.

I was born on a new moon, so maybe darkness is my fate

Much better than the lusterless blues of my bathroom ceiling, who knows what will await?

Maybe I’ll pass in the jungle with canopies overhead Or perhaps I'll meet fate alone on my bed.

What if I’m meant to go at sunrise as dew springs across the air?

Sunset sounds good too, I can find clarity there.

White snow, falling leaves, new springing life, or dry air; possibilities are everywhere. All I know for certain is that life will lead me somewhere.

Sunset Reverie

Georganna Herb // rising freshman watercolor

Moon and Stars

Meaghan Gauley // faculty collages

I Thought You Were Helping

Emlyn McKinney // freshman rhyming quatrains

A fire lights from within. Sure and pale, it doesn’t climb. A companion, even when I seem to have run out of time.

Passion seems not to care. It will wait and wait and wait. It will keep burning there Until my hands create.

Once I get going, it’s hard to stop. Passion guides every step that I take, To ensure everything is tip-top. That whatever I do, I don’t break.

Passion chucks coal to the firebox, Extending its flame to dark corners. Smashing the glass of the grandfather clocks, Passion leaves no time for the mourners.

It takes the molten glass to form sculptures And encourages me to shape the blaze. More and more and more until it punctures My hesitancy. It tells me to raze.

I never thought that too much passion could hurt. It kept me going. Made me feel more alive. But it holds my consciousness and makes me avert Any attention to you goes to the archive.

Something’s a Miss

Koah McClellan // senior digital graphic

A Musing of Time

Niles Flath // sophomore villanelle

Do not mourn the ending of the day

When the sun takes its slumber and the bullfrogs start to croak

You’ve learned too late you grieved it on its way

When winds start to chime and morning starts to stray

As the earth's creatures take refuge inside a great oak

Do not mourn the ending of the day

Amber bathes the world in late May

The crisp sound of a bottle top as you open your Coke

You’ve learned too late you grieved it on its way

Think back to the years when you frolicked with play

As you finally retell that old joke

Do not mourn the ending of the day

Fingers stained red from wet clay

Plunge them into the frigid stream for a soak

You’ve learned too late you grieved it on its way

When the time finally came, you begged me to stay

Soft curls hidden under your toque

Do not mourn the ending of the day

You’ve learned too late you grieved it on its way

Copper Callahan // sophomore wire sculpture/jewelry

Copper by Copper

Remembrance of Autumn

Sasha Barkan // rising freshman free-verse poem

the color of deep throws itself against my window. Winter hisses from the rafters as the draft dances mournfully across the floor. Wrapping the blanket around my back, fingers flexing reaching for fall

I close my eyes for autumn. For when the sky and breeze loved each other and the leaf became tattooed with the splattered paint of new beginnings before falling into a patchwork of Crimson Mustard Copper And belonging.

Dear Intuition

Victoria Garland // junior open letter

Dear Intuition,

I’ve tried to connect with you more through journaling, but I thought a letter might reach you better. That “gut feeling” everyone talks about is a real thing, but I feel like sometimes you just take my side because you’ve been with me forever. You’ve seen my mistakes, my successes, but you’ve impacted me in more ways than you know. You work silently in my head when I’m not even aware of the feeling I get when I walk into a place I’m not familiar with and how my body tenses up. The uncertainty I get around those who I don’t trust, and how I can feel safe around someone I’ve never met before.

You’ve helped me in so many situations, like that conversation with my friend when I was encouraged to take a chance on something that I had been hesitant about. It felt like I was blindly falling with my hands across my chest, but I was safely caught.

“I’m at the age where I have a lot more decisions to make.”

I can get lost in my head trying to find the right way. When I can’t trust logic, I can rely on you, but sometimes I don’t. You’re the angel on my shoulder, though at times, I get more of a pull from my left side. I haven’t always recognized your guidance, for fear you’d be wrong. I see myself in you and can’t always tell if that makes you weak or strong.

I’m at the age where I have a lot more decisions to make. Ones that will determine the trajectory of my future. I have too many things to ask. Where do I go to school? What do I study? What do I need to let go? You don’t have to answer them now, you don’t have the answers to everything. I just want you to know that I appreciate your insight, even if it’s not in spoken words.

Thank you,

Victoria

Embracing the Predator

Jay Braswell // rising freshman pen & marker

Traditional Henna Mehndi

Khadijah Bhuiyan // sophomore traditional henna

Genesis

Kelbi Phillips // senior free-verse poem

I am flesh of his flesh

Bone of his bone

I am woman

This is my genesis

I love harder, my essence is fonder, my words will make your heart wander

Heart healed ready to feel fully and deeply

I am a monument of my own making, never for the taking

Built on the bones of past mistakes and endeavors

Relationships severed

Grown on the petals of power, rooted in the Bible, splaying beautiful soil

Because the only difference between a graveyard and a garden

Is just what you choose to put in the ground

In my garden, I’ll grow a full and gentle love

I’ll grow myself

So that when we meet, you’ll have a better me

Our perfections in everything Fit for you and made for me

In the graveyard, I buried the bones of the girl who thought her love was too much

The bones of the past insecurity

The soul they thought they broke

Little did they know only beauty awoke

On the grave, I’ll set fresh flowers from my garden

Straight from the soil, no longer hardened and guarded

To show the spirit softened

To show the heart that pours out love faster than a faucet

Because the graveyard breeds the flowers of the garden

I am the treasure and though I may not last forever

My soul, my words, this poetry will live on

Stories from the woman who is strong

Affluent in the wrong she was bestowed upon

She, too, will overcome

Elise

Addy Root // junior ceramic

Melodic Love

Angel Tejada // sophomore free-verse poem

Love finds its tune

A melody weaves into minds

A soul-connecting realization

Its harmony seeps into their eyes

Caresses their hearts

Through plucks, strums, and clangs

Two souls become one

Each verse creates a new emotion

An untold story ready to be heard

Eternally echoing within the mind

Splashing from side to side

Vibrations crawl around the body

A symphony of love

Melodic love

Defiance

“This idea has caused me to be lost in thought. If I do this, how will this be impacted?”

— Maya Clement, “Medical Research” // pg. 28

digital graphic

Cameron Mojock // sophomore

Drag is Burning

Peter Atchley // sophomore free-verse poem

Why is drag a crime? What crime has drag committed?

Eyebrows concealed, lips brightened

Four-way stretch and human hair wigs, It do take nerve.

But what have they done to you?

We are wearing drag from birth to death. It's what you hide in, From suits to scrubs to gowns to nothing. We all hide ourselves from time to time.

Why are you fighting those who admit it?

Some hide to be found and live in the night, Hide to protect themselves in blinding lights and feathers. I hide so I can scream, laugh and play.

Legendary children have those opportunities

In a world where we must hide to live, what are you hiding behind your drag?

What sharp, uncut, sweaty and beautiful, just beautiful, personas are you hiding? I implore you to let the glitter pour out onto the streets from your veins Because I watch your pace as you match your peers.

For I see the drags and what they hide when I breach the world, All of which is a skin-tight drag to conceal the muscle.

Guns aim at every show or story hour or ball or pageant or life, But under your carpets of “pedophiles” and “homosexuals,” there is Queer joy. The night is so dragged out, so theatrical, so this is what it is like being alive

For the world is burning with life and stoked with impatience, I want to be a big star, And I miss her so much.

Mortality

Maya Clement // senior personal essay

Ihave been interested in biology for as long as I can remember, and during middle school, my passion focused on medical research. We are always told that medicine should help people. I viewed medical research through the lens of a child who lost her beloved grandmother to cancer. Curing every illness and fixing every problem so that everyone could live a happy, long life was all that mattered. I did not understand that it is not that simple.

The summer before ninth grade, I read Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes which challenged this mindset and what I considered important in the medical realm. This book opened my eyes to the impact medical treatments can have on society and individuals. Seeing the main character, Charlie, gain the intelligence he so desperately desired because he thought it would fix everything in his life, only for him to then lose it, left me with a question: even if we can solve every problem, should we?

I realized that there will never be a time when an outcome of a treatment can be completely predicted. My research may have outcomes that are different from what I believed would happen when I began. There is always going to be a risk to life. I will have to weigh the pros and cons of ethical and moral decisions that strike at the heart of humanity.

“Even if we can solve every problem, should we?”

Even now, I will find myself lost in thought with this question. As I have moved toward adulthood, I have faced moral and ethical decisions and scenarios that have forced me to decide the “best” option. I have spent a lot of time as a puzzle master, trying to put all of the pieces of information together to figure out the bigger picture. However, the pieces don’t all fit together in one exact position like they would in an actual puzzle. This idea has caused me to be lost in thought. If I do this, how will this be impacted? If this can’t go here, where can it go? Decisions are the root of life. They are always waiting in the shadows, but figuring out how to make the best one is a difficult task.

Going into medical research, this is a question that I will face regularly. Through reading Flowers for Algernon,

I will continue to face these challenges for the rest of my life, each time deciding who I am as a person and who I want to be. By building these moral and ethical standards for myself in my formative years, I will have

Blurry Vision

Scarlett Alston // rising freshman pen & paint

more confidence and a greater ability to make difficult decisions. I will be able to answer the question: even if we can solve every problem, should we? One day it may be somebody’s life in my hands and I’ll be responsible for the medically “right” choice.

Song of Myself

Wyatt Meyer // junior sheet music

I’m Stressed

Sekou Sesay // senior mixed media

Embracing Contrast

Josie Thrasher // sophomore mixed media

Refusal Of The Call (Gilded)

Anna Shaikun // senior dictionary poem

gil·ded adjective

Fool’s gold / its worth only skin deep / The skillful deceiver / With a single scratch / the illusion falls away / Easily mistaken for value / yet underneath the surface / it rusts / How long can it rest on a pedestal / before it is discovered / and torn apart

Synonyms: golden

adjective

A precious metal / through and through / It rests heavy in your hand / It can bear your diamonds / It is not like me / Please search elsewhere / I beg you / I am not your golden child

Prière de Nuit op. 3

Andréas Dillies // freshman prayer poem

Dieu, notre père, Sainte Marie,

Forgive me for the lies I’ve told today

Forgive me for my transgressions upon your word I strive every day to do better by your word…

…Truly, all I ask is that I am made to do better

If I even have free choice that is

If any of this is true

Is any of this my choice

If not

Then all these thoughts I’m destined to make them

Is my brain wrong

Why do I think this

Is it true that I have a choice

How can I make that choice?

Dieu, Marie, Really whoever is out there

Just help sort this out.

…Amen.

Undisturbed Chaos

Sofia Morales // junior pen drawing

Interlude

Waylon Vaughn // sophomore short story

Adry wind rattled the roof of the bus stop. The man’s coat lazily flapped in the breeze. He sat on a bench in the thin strip of shade cast by the midday sun. He looked down the road. Empty, nothing but a baked blacktop stretching into the hazy horizon. Thin wisps of dust swirled away across the road. The man glanced at the spate of buildings that lined the road. Rusted gas station, closed convenience store, condemned apartment, no one in sight. Just another stop in his travels, somewhere between here and there, nothing and nowhere. He had seen many roads, many dry winds, many ghost towns.

The man waited.

He looked up the road. More baked blacktop stretched into another hazy horizon. Later there would be more roads, more dry winds, more ghost towns. His travels would continue, sure as the road rolled on. But for now, time lulled in tense relaxation. Caught in the fluttering moment between past and future. The man smiled to himself, bittersweet. Sometimes he lost the present out on the road, living from that to there, nothing to nowhere. The man stood. His coat flapped lazily in a fresh gust of dry wind. The roof of the bus stop rattled.

In the distance, the man heard the low rumble of a bus’s engine.

Finn Sleppy // freshman mixed media sculpture

Comfort

Finn Sleppy // freshman mixed media

My Life in America

Kamila Duran // sophomore free-verse poem

What does it mean to be an immigrant in America?

Being the daughter of two parents who had good-paying jobs, Losing everything my parents built from one day to another, Transitioning from one world to another.

Being the “new kid” at school, Not understanding anything, Having nobody to understand me. Most used phrase being, “No English, only Spanish.”

Being lied to,

Knowing that in reality, we’re not coming back so soon.

Holding in tears when talking on the phone with family members. Time goes by, Watching my parents slowly fall apart.

Helping them how I can, But secretly missing the life we once had.

Translating every document, Being stressed for not understanding some things, Feeling bad for not knowing how to translate the right words,

Being made fun of for having a “funny” accent.

Having to be the main example for my little brother. Time passes by, And 7 years later, I’m still here, Met great people on the way, Still trying hard to make my parents proud.

Trying hard for my parents to not regret their decision to start this new life.

They gave up what they had for me and my brother to have a better life here, That’s why I'm so grateful for them. I still think about my beautiful country, The amazing views, The beautiful beaches, The smoky mountains, And the delicious food. That’s how I'm gonna keep remembering my country. This is what it means to be an immigrant in America.

Quiet Through Chaos

Isabelle Duncan // senior photogragh

Through the Looking Glass

Molly Harwell // senior haikus

Mother and daughter, connected by blood and an honest sisterhood

Through the looking glass am I the mirror or the wavy reflection?

Mother and daughter connected by blood and honest sisterhood

Me, all she could have been, her, all I might be. Both shattered and scarred.

Mother and daughter connected by blood and honest sisterhood

Yet somehow, she stands there, broken but beautiful a pillar of strength

Mother and daughter connected by blood and honest sisterhood

She and I, the same mind; pushing and pulling each other back and forth

Mother and daughter connected by blood and honest sisterhood

I am both mirror and reflection, of she who stands so vigilant

Mother and daughter connected by blood and honest sisterhood

Girlygirlgirlboy Syrus Merva // sophomore crochet

Consequence

“I felt your fleeting touch, such a sweet embrace But within, a wound that time can’t erase.”

— Michael Obi-Okoye, “Dagger” // pg. 51

Butterfly Cake

Kai Menke // junior collage

Over Dinner

Margo McDaniel // sophomore haikus

Plate slipped through fingers

Jagged shards scatter the floor

Don’t move, or get cut

Bound by what I’ve done

Growth

Amya Hopkins // senior personal essay

Froma young age, I’ve always known that words are something so powerful. They had the power to change the way a person looks in the mirror because that’s what they had done for me. I have always been well-spoken and could put a word or two together to get my point across well. This (borrowing words from my parents) was my “superpower.”

This carried on until I started hurting people I genuinely cared about in my tenth-grade year. What brought me the most joy was how much joy I could bring to someone else. Like a real hero, I’m the kind of person who will spend my last on another if it makes them happy or provides them with something they need. I'm also the kind of person who takes others' hurt to heart and carries it as my own wanting to support them in healing it.

“I found myself looking to hurt others in the same way I had been hurt,”

In elementary school I constantly found myself being put into situations where I would be tormented and belittled by others, but never really found myself fighting back with this superpower I possessed. After gaining more of a backbone and making my way into middle school I found myself l ooking to hurt others in the same way I had been hurt, using my power to not only defend myself but as a weapon of evil towards others.

In the coming years as I started to attend high school, I mellowed out but I continued to hurt others in less obvious ways. I built my self-esteem by breaking down others to build my own.

Needless to say, who I am and the villain I left to display as me are two entirely different beings. These two sides of me caused internal conflict within myself that spilled over into my other relationships. I found myself breaking down my best friend's Ameilia’s selfesteem later tenth-grade year so I could have a sense of superiority. As I broke her down I would try to put her pieces back together to counter the damage done by this alter ego. We would go places and I would make sure to pay for everything because I knew of her financial struggles, I would try and build up her confidence because I knew deep down she was one of the most brilliant people I had ever met.

I never fully understood I was breaking her down and putting her back together like some Frankenstein until I lost her because of it. She could no longer tolerate the opening and closing of wounds I tormented her with and

said she didn’t know if I was making or breaking her.

After going back through our texts I saw what she was speaking about. There would be messages belittling her, her intelligence, and her worth then there would be a shift to encouragement and support of her abilities, concern, and empathy being provided. It was clear to see I was projecting my hurt onto her and abusing my power while trying to counter it with my real emotions because that’s not the kind of person I truly am. I

“Although this was a lesson learned the hard way I couldn’t be more thankful for it.”

was just a villain with a hero's intent. Unfortunately, we couldn’t work it out and I lost the friendship of an amazing person but I did gain something in its place. I gained emotional intelligence, which is the ability to perceive, interpret, control, and use emotions to communicate and relate to others effectively and constructively. What brings me joy in life is still the same now, I just actually understand how to do it. It’s not by excessive gift-giving, and contradicting my behavior with my words, it's through self-awareness and compassion. Although this was a lesson learned the hard way I couldn’t be more thankful for it and how it caused me to grow.

Reflection

& Mind of a Teenage Girl

Cameron Mojock // sophomore paintings

My (de)composition

Eudora Dawson // freshman free-verse poem

Cobwebs gather

Where your fingers should’ve touched me.

My mouth wails

Without your lips there to hush me.

My legs, rusting

Without you, there’s no use rushing.

Maggots dig

Into my wrists where you clutched me.

My cheeks, rotten

From where you made me blush.

I’m left, forgotten

I find it quite unjust.

Deep in my core, my loss has dug a pit

I long to fill it, but only you will fit.

With my energy, the very last bit

I reach for you, force my body not to quit.

“Child, your lover’s not here,”

The trees whisper as I decay.

So I lay on the forest floor, waiting, And simply rot away.

The Unfortunate Lovers

Flora Gallega Lomax // freshman graphite

Dagger

Michael Obi-Okoye // senior free-verse poem

You are the worst thing that ever happened to me. Your blade concealed in ardor’s tender guise.

The dagger you pushed through me.

I felt your fleeting touch, such a sweet embrace But within, a wound that time can’t erase.

The illusion of your love

Nailed me to the edge of the stars

Bound my soul in the universe

Left me cold and my mind desolate. You were the only one that ever saw me,

The only one that heard me when I didn’t scream. But now I can’t even hear my own voice

As your dagger twists within, My breath staggers in your presence, My heart beats for you. Only for you.

You were the best thing that ever happened to me.

As I felt your sharp, warm embrace that was my paradox. This dagger’s mark became my bliss.

You left this dagger in my heart

And with every beat, it finds its way deeper. And in my painful truth, I’ll miss you forever.

Ada Kennedy // freshman digital drawing

Paper Thin

Olivia Hendershot // junior perspective poem

Can you see me?

Can you see right through me?

I try not to make it obvious but my face is a window to my fears. A hug will make me crumble. A gust of wind will make me fall. My mind is at an imbalance, so I won’t take your call.

I’m sorry if I yell, I’m sorry if I cry. I love you so, but I’m at war with my mind.

Not a Sight Seen

Selene Ingersoll // junior pen & marker drawing

Romantic Demise

Niles Flath // sophomore free-verse poem

The earth’s bathed in honey

At dusk in late July

We saunter by the river

Hand in hand, we’re side by side

We part ways at the crossroads

A sorrowful goodbye

I get home as the sun falls

And taste your lips on mine

When I feel it ending

A light shining so bright

I’ll replay all our memories

The last thoughts on my mind

Without Lips

Cooper Jones // sophomore painting

Kind

Audrey St. Onge // senior series of haikus

The sinner Transgressions against

All that there is and will be Broken and bereft

The saint

Blessed is the one

Fade Into You

Plae

Eternity

It is an emptiness that stretches beyond our imagination, and perhaps the comprehension of our boundaries.

— Aza Khan, “Void of the Unknown” // pg. 72

Tom Cruise

Angel Jara // senior villanelle

Tom Cruise cannot talk, he can only schmooze

Two lifeless beady eyes that simply mesmerize

I wish I was Tom Cruise

I would sing and dance to some Tom Cruise tunes

As I polish my polyester flesh, the ultimate disguise

Tom Cruise cannot talk, he can only schmooze

Every day I would slip on my Tom Cruise shoes

Then eat my daily diet of bubblegum and butterflies

I wish I was Tom Cruise

Tom Cruise walks around with his Tom Cruise crews

That feeds him his daily Tom Cruise lies

Tom Cruise cannot talk, he can only schmooze

I want to be a part of the great big Tom Cruise ruse

Tom Cruise only serves to hypnotize

I wish I was Tom Cruise

I sit and watch these Tom Cruise interviews

There is nothing behind Tom Cruise’s eyes

Tom Cruise cannot talk, he can only schmooze

I wish I was Tom Cruise

Gee Christmas Kai Whitmire // freshman digital graphic

Cataclysmic Discovery

Sam Harwell // freshman script

Flashing on all television screens across the U.S., a well-dressed man sits at a news desk, with the headline, “Shocking Discovery Made in The Arctic”, rolling across the bottom of the screen.

News Broadcaster: Good evening, folks. We have received breaking news from the A.D.G., the Anomaly Discovery Group, that they have found something astounding. We are here with their head researcher, Dr. Kit Weathers, now.

The screen cuts to a man with a scraggly black beard and large glasses holding a microphone, with a red jacket on. The initials on his jacket read A.D.G. There is a wide grin across his face.

Head Researcher Dr. Kit Weathers:

It is a well-known fact that we, as humans, have only explored about 5% of the world’s oceans. That seems so little, knowing we’ve been on this planet for millions of years. Yet, finally, after all these years, we’ve made a huge discovery; Atlantis, The sunken city.

In the cold, dark waters of the Arctic Ocean, we found it. My researchers and I had no idea that Atlantis even existed.

Yet, on a recent submarine expedition, we stumbled upon an expansive underwater city with ancient architecture and ancient inscriptions. This is a huge deal for the science community and society, as a whole.

This proves that there was some sort of intelligent life before the human species existed. As head of research, I have spearheaded the study on this ancient society, and as we continue to uncover the truth, we will be updating you directly, giving you the latest information on our findings and—

A worried look comes across Weathers’ face as he listens in on an earpiece. He’s talking to somebody at the site of the discovery.

Head Researcher Dr. Kit Weathers: Wait…Yes…Really?...Okay…

The screen cuts back to the well-dressed broadcaster sitting at his desk. He’s obviously confused, but quickly gathers himself when he realizes he’s on-air.

News Broadcaster: Oh, uh… Ladies and gentlemen, we have gotten the latest news from the team exploring the underwater city. We’re headed to a researcher at the site.

The screen cuts, now with more static than the other times. It cuts to a man with a white

mustache and the same red jacket as Dr. Kit Weathers. He’s standing on a boat, with glaciers and crashing waves behind him.

Mustached Man:

H-Hello? *static* Hi? Okay. Um… We are getting crazy readings over here, man. Like… this is bad… We are going to head out soon… we’ll check back later-

Suddenly, a huge wave crashes onto the boat. The camera goes static for a second then flickers back, filming civilians running. Water crashes onto the boat as people scream at something just out of sight.

Civilian:

What’s going on? Wait, wait…what’s that? Agh—!!

The screen goes static.

Whale Eyed

Max Burnham // sophomore mixed-media sculpture

The Sky in the Making

Itzel Delgado // junior mixed media ceramic

Belting in the Bayou

Daniel Cruz // senior photogragh

You Pour Into Me

Mattie Pittard // sophomore free-verse poem

You pour into me and I’ll pour into you. A consistent transfer of energy between the two.

A loud moment of silent solace. Creating the components of a lifelong promise.

You pour into me and I’ll pour into you. A genuine allowance of vulnerability. With me, you can be true. With you, I can be blue.

Together we can be imperfectly us and still be comfortably held. When life gets too heavy to hold

You pour into me and I’ll pour into you. When life becomes an unrelenting sea, we crash through, and wade through the waters of our doubt because if your fingers are interlaced with mine I know we can make it out and walk hand-in-hand along the coastline.

Hair messy, carefree down the roads of life we journeyed through because you poured into me and I poured into you.

Into a Black Hole

Hadia Alkhafaji // junior painting

Ablaze

Daniel Cruz // senior personal essay

OvertimeI've come to realize that occasionally, I long for some sense of irrationality. This delusion that I find myself craving will more than likely lead to some form of disappointment, and the choice is no ones but yours to see if you will pursue the delusion you face or admit defeat and cut your losses before you get yourself hurt.

If you're lucky, this mirage that you face will be something that makes your soul burn with passion, I say lucky but quite honestly this is the worst and best situation you could be in.

“I have acknowledged that it's time to cut my losses before it's too late.”

When my heart begins to burn for something or someone, when that flame gets washed away, I feel engulfed, drowned, struggling to find the strength to swim back to the surface and gasp for a breath of air. I look around and find nothing to push off of, nowhere to go, like I find myself in the middle of a dark ocean, knowing deep down that I was the one that drove the boat out there in the first place. I’m at fault, I'm to blame, and in that moment, I could not be more lost.

Although this experience leaves unknown, it's the metaphoric trip on the

boat that feels so euphoric, so freeing, so new. I think it is in human nature to want this new feeling, to need this feeling, regardless of where you may end up but to what extent are you willing to sacrifice clarity just for this delusion. This internal struggle is something I think everyone will one day have to struggle with, and right now I am at a point in life where despite my best efforts I am continuing to jeopardize my own future, and if I let myself give into this delusion of passion anymore, I might not be able to ever swim to the s urface. This experience has taught me that the delusion I find myself yearning for, at least for me, isn't worth it.

Although it was fun while it lasted I have acknowledged that it's time to cut my losses before it's too late. I don't have the privilege to be stuck, lots of people are relying on me to come through on the promises I made and it's unfair to them and myself to pursue the trip on that boat no matter how appealing it may seem.

Void of the Unknown

Aza Khan // senior monologue

There’s a fear that resides deep within us, a fear that clings to the edges of our consciousness like shadows in the night. For a child, it may be the fear of monsters under the bed or the phantoms that tread in our nightmares. No, it’s something we overlook, something far more subtle, far more profound -- it is the fear of the unknown.

We live in a world that bombards us from all around with noise or deafening silence, with constant chatter and the ceaseless hum of human life. As humans, it is common to surround ourselves with the tangible, the known, and the familiar. We feel empowered to take on the day knowing that we are in control of our destiny. But what happens when the noise fades, when the chatter dissolves into silence, and the known crumbles into the great unknown?

Sit in the silence that surrounds us; it is not merely an absence of sound or light. It is an emptiness that stretches beyond our imagination, and perhaps the comprehension of our boundaries. It’s a space where the preposterous idea of certainty evaporates like mist in the morning sun. In this void, there are no assurances, no answers, but instead, an infinite expanse waiting to be explored. And yet again, the weight of the unknown sits like a burden, plunging us into the ground.

Perhaps it’s the fear of losing ourselves in the vastness of this void, the fear of being swallowed by the heinousness of what our crude minds may fail to grasp. We’ve built walls of routine, familiarity, a solitude, where our beings shield us like an indestructible fortress from the sheer emptiness that lies beyond.

Twin Moons

Arrow Callahan // freshman pen drawing

by

Editorial Board

Pictured top (from left): Sam Caspary, Victoria Garland, Flannery Ragan, Olivia Hendershot, David Ragsdale, Margo McDaniel, Cate DeMaria and Niles Flath.

The 2023-2024 Editorial Board consists of seven members, all of whom attend Clarke Central High School. Our members meet every Tuesday morning and after school every Tuesday and Thursday. During these meetings, we discuss outreach for potential writers and visual artists, plan for upcoming events like our bake sales, organize our inventory, create content for our website, and complete tasks related to the production of our magazine. In order to encourage staff bonding our team commemorated our hard work with various social outings. This helped with a better working environment and reached our goal of having a tight-knit Editorial Board. During the class period, the Editor-in-Chief used that time to design the magazine alongside both the Managing Editor, who organized the Editorial Boards tasks and spreadsheets, and the Social Media Coordinator, who planned upcoming posts for our social media platforms.

Olivia Hendershot Editor-in-Chief

Cate DeMaria

Managing Editor

Niles Flath

Outreach Director

Sam Caspary

Business Manager

Margo McDaniel

Writing Director

Flannery Ragan

Visuals Coordinator

Victoria Garland

Social Media Coordinator

David Ragsdale Adviser

Photo

Grady Dunston

Club and Staff

Members of the iliad are content creators. For the 2023-2024 school year, on the first Thursday of every month, starting at 8 a.m, students come to Room 231 to explore various artistic mediums for 30 minutes, including watercolor, photography, sketching and collaging. With our club, we hope to inspire creativity, provide a safe space for content creation as well as build a community within our program.

Club meetings also serve as an opportunity to submit to our literary magazine by giving students the time and materials to do so. At the end of each year, our final club meetings are held to reach out to club members for potential positions on our Editorial Board for the upcoming year. There are many ways in which club members can support our program not only by applying for our EdBoard but by expanding our outreach with conversation.

To officially become a member of our club students must attend at least three sessions each semester. We hope that these limited set of dates for each meeting better encourage students to attend despite their varying schedules.

This years members included Cortni Veasley, Onyx Mills, Elise Siegmund, Kate Hinger, Finn Sleppy, Molly Suggs, M.E. Wicker and Justin Lee.

Club Photos

Photos by Victoria Grland

Mission Statement:

Policies Special Thanks To

The iliad Literary-Art Magazine is a student-produced Clarke Central High School literary-art magazine. The iliad serves as a conduit of expression for creativity and passion for the CCHS student body and faculty, iliad staff, and rising ninth graders from feeder schools. Each issue is an open public forum for student expression under the guidance of a faculty adviser.

Vision Statement:

The iliad Literary-Art Magazine seeks to be an inclusive platform for creative voices that represent the diversity of the Clarke Central High School student body. Programmatically, the iliad strives to provide a venue to develop student leaders and communicators.

All contributiors may submit as many pieces as they would like from the start of the academic year until February. Submissions are reviewed by members of the Editorial Board. Once the submission period is officially closed, all artists will receive an email on the status of their submission.

The iliad, as a student publication under the domain of the Clarke County School District, must be mindful when choosing submissions of the appropriateeness of its content. Inappropriate content may be edited by the creator to maintain a “TV-14” censorship, but the integrity of the work and of the magazine is always preserved.

Additionally, if there are significant grammatical or structural issues with a piece of writing, then the piece may only be edited with permission from the author and in collaboration with them.

The cover of the 49th edition of the iliad Literary-Art Magazine, “Prometheus” features a pen and watercolor painting by Elise Siegmund titled “Polyphony.” The “Ambition,” “Defiance,” “Consequence,” and “Eternity” subsection also feature pen and water-colored paintings by Siegmund titled “Inception,” “Intermediary,” “Cataclysm” and “Ameliorate.”

Big City Bread Cafe, Burney-Harris-Lyons Middle School, Lorien Cambell, Clarke Middle School, Dr. Makeba Clarke, Kaija Gilbertson Hall, Dr. Amanda Gorham, Hendershot’s Coffee and Cafe, Shawn Hinger, Dr. Swade Huff, Independent Baking Co., Jittery Joe’s Coffee, Dr. Eunice Kang, The ODYSSEY Media Group Booster Club Eva Orbock, Amanda Price, Kim Ripps, Noelle Shuck, Jennifer Tesler, The Wilson Center for Humanities and Arts

Dr. Erica Gilbertson & Mathew Hall

Peggy Galis

Don & Melinda DeMaria

David A. Ragsdale

Chad Glover

Courtney Gray

Ellen Walker

Hannah Dunn-Grandpre

Joani Inglett

Jodi Bogla

Dr. Margaret Gurtcheff

Marjorie Dorkey

Mary Garrison

Dr. Mumbi Anderson

Lorien Campbell

Jana Harwell

Dr. Alice Kinman

John Inglett

Mercer Brockenbrough

Ramona Robinson

Dr. Robert Fecho

Sonya McDaniel

Susan Mull

Terry Ragan

Jim Geiser

Buddy Sims

Liz Farrell

Kathryn Clark

Rheema Capra

Sandra Jowers

Mike Gunn

Nancy McDuff

Nina Susie Inglett

Dr. Peter Smagorinsky

Tiffany Mahan

Dr. John Campbell

George Harwood

Dr. Usha Rodrigues

John Donnelly

Amanda Price

Catherine Mills

Dr. David Suggs

Dianne Jordan

James McClung

Dr. JoBeth Allen

Kim Kauffman

Louise Kidney

Melanie Garland

Scott Crook

Susan Goff

William Taylor

Bonnie Zane & John Smith

Colophon

iliad headlines were printed in Bely. Subheadlines were printed in Spectral bold. Bylines were printed in Spectral bold and medium italic. All body copy was printed in Spectral regular.

All spreads were designed by Olivia Hendershot using Adobe InDesign, Photoshop, and Illustrator.

All 3D art were photograghed by Aza Khan.

The iliad printed 300 copies of this 80-page magazine on 100 lb gloss for the cover and 80 lb for the inside pages using Greater Georgia Printers in Crawford, Georgia.

Patrons of the iliad and featured content creators receive a complimentary copy of the iliad upon publication. Additional copies are available for purchase for $10 upon request.

The iliad is a member of the Columbia Scholastic Press Association, Georgia Scholastic Press Association, National Council of Teachers of English Recognizing Excellence in Art and Literary Magazines, the National Scholastic Press Association, and the Southern Interscholastic Press Association.

Last year’s edition of the iliad, “flourish,”received the following awards:

The 2022-2023 iliad Literary-Art Magazine received a Pacemaker award for the 2022-2023 academic year. The iliad is one of 17 publications from across the country to be named a finalist.

The 2023 iliad won first place Best in Show for Literary-Art Magazine for the JEA/NSPA 2023 National Fall High School Journalism Convention.

The 2022-2023 iliad Literary-Art Magazine received an All-American evaluation by the National Scholastic Press Association. The publication received Marks of Distinction for Content, Writing and Editing, Photography, Art, Graphics, Design and Concept.

The 2023-2024 iliad Literary-Art Magazine/iliadlitmag.com was named a Crown Award Finalist by the Columbia Scholastic Press Association.

The 2023 iliad Literary-Art Magazine was selected to receive a rank of First Class in the 2023 NCTE Recognizing Excellence in Art and Literary Magazines (REALM) Program.

The 2023 iliad Literary-Art Magazine received the rating of Superior for General Excellence and received the All-Georgia Literary Magazine (Best in State) award.

We are so grateful and thankful for every member of the CCHS community who submitted their work for the 2022-2023 edition of the iliad. We also want to extend our gratitude to the supporters of our program and magazine who make our work possible.

Alkhafaji, Hadia

Into a Black Hole // 68

Alston, Scarlett

Blurry Vision // 29

Atchley, Peter

Barken, Sasha

Drag is Burning // 27

Remembrance of Autumn // 17

Bhuiyan, Khadijah

Traditional Henna Mehndi // 20

Burnham, Max

Whale Eyed // 63

Braswell, Jay

Embracing the Predator // 19

Callahan, Arrow

Twin Moons // 73

Callahan, Copper

Copper by Copper // 16

Clement, Maya

Mortality // 28

Cruz, Daniel

Belting in the Bayou // 66…67

Ablaze // 70

Dawson, Eudora

My (de)composition // 49

Delgado, Itzel

The Sky in the Making // 64…65

Dillies, Andréas

Prière de Nuit op. 3 // 35

Duncan, Isabelle

Quiet Through Chaos // 38

Duran, Kamila

My Life in America // 39

Flath, Niles

A Musing of Time // 15

Romantic Demise // 55

Garland, Victoria

Dear Intuition // 18

Gauley, Meaghan

Moon and Stars // 12

Harwell, Molly

Through the Looking Glass // 40

Harwell, Sam

Cataclysmic Discovery // 62

Hendershot, Ollie

Paper Thin // 52

Herb, Georganna

Sunset Reverie // 11

Hopkins, Amya

Growth // 46

Gyi, Plae

Fade Into You // 57

Jara, Angel

Tom Cruise // 60

Jones, Cooper

Without Lips // 54

Kennedy, Ada

heArt // 50

Khan, Aza

Void Of The Unknown // 72

Gellega Lomax, Flora

The Unfortunate Lovers // 48

McClellan, Koah

Something’s a Miss // 14

McDaniel, Margo

Over Dinner // 45

McKinney, Emlyn

I Thought You Were Helping // 13

Menke, Kai

Butterfly Cake // 44

Merva, Syrus

Girlygirlgirlboy //41

Meyer, Wyatt

Song of Myself // 30

Morales, Sofia

Undisturbed Chaos // 34

Mojock, Cameron

Queen // 26

Reflection & Mind of a Teenage Girl // 47

Obi-Okoye, Michael

Dagger // 51

Orbock, Caroline

Under the Sky’s Embrace // 10

Phillips, Kelbi

Genesis // 21

Pittard, Mattie

You Pour Into Me // 69

Root, Addy

Elise // 22

Sesay, Sekou

I'm Stressed // 31

Shaikun, Anna

Refusal of the Call (Gilded) // 33

Sleppy, Finn

Comfort // 37

St. Onge, Audrey

Three of a Kind // 56

Tejada, Angel

Melodic Love // 23

Thrasher, Josie

Embracing Contrast // 32

Vaughn, Waylon

Interlude // 36

Veasley, Cortni

Empty Space // 71

Whitmire, Kai

Gee Christmas // 60

Follow Us Website Stories

The iliad celebrated the release of its 2023 magazine, “flourish,” at Hendershot’s Coffee Shop. The event included readings from published artists as well as a Q&A with former iliad member Ethan Caspary Poucher.

The iliad, along with the ODYSSEY Media Group, atteneded the National Scholastic Press Association’s (NSPA) Fall 2023 convention in Boston Massachusetts Nov. 2-4.

iliad Editor-in-Chief Olivia Hendershot and Managing Editor Cate DeMaria host a Q&A with award winnning author Becky Albertali in collaboration with the CCHS Media Center on Feb. 6.

iliad Social Media Coordinator Victoria Garland reviewed the 2023 Orion Pictures Brownstone Productions movie “Bottoms,” a teen comedy.

iliad Creative Celebration

Event Coverage: NSPA in Boston Review: Bottoms 2023

Q&A with Becky Albertali