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Vintage 2011

Literary Arts Magazine of G.W. Hewlett High School 60 Everit Avenue Hewlett, New York

Cover Art by Gina Marie Graffeo

Literary Club Leaders Faculty Advisor

Yanina Nemirovsky, Chief Editress Darla Smyth, Ph.D. Gabriel Alfassy Jennifer Bard Lauren Altus

Contributors

Visual Art Prose Nicole Caparelli, 22, 50, 73, 99 Jonah Greebel, 1‐4 Abigail Cottler, 52, 97 Matthew Locker, 94‐ 95 Lindsay Fox, 31, 66, 79 Gina Marie Graffeo, cover, 17, 55, 83 Samantha Kirschner, 35, 47, 71 Benjamin Klyachman, 92 Chris Loh, 28, 58 Sherry Mackie, 7 * Vlad Nemirovsky, 39 Gaelyn Rosenberg, 45, 61 Noam Skiddell, 10* Caroline Smyth, 42 Antoinette Tiam, 12 Ariel Williams, 37, 69, 81, 91

*Selected as co‐winners of the first place prize for Visual Art

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Poetry Gabriel Alfassy, 23, 27* Lauren Altus, 15, 16, 18, 19 Anonymous, 70, 80 Jess Aroose, 30 Adam Barda, 56 Saverio Bosco, 64 Jordan Browdy, 25 Janine Coelho, 41, 43, 44, 48*, 84‐85, Abigail Cottler, 33 Zach Dukoff, 68 Rachel Fisher, 59 Lindsay Fox, 46, 49, 51, 53, 87, 89 Mariam Ganny, 82 Leor Ginzburg, 34 Jonah Greebel, 13 Sean Han, 26, 74‐75 Benjamin Klyachman, 67, 92, 93, 96 Mala Lall, 24 Dave LaRosa, 57 Daryl Last, 54 Matthew Locker, 88, 90, 98 Cherie Luo, 72, 75, 77 Zaria Mayers, 65 Spencer McFarlane, 36 Yana Nemirovsky, 5, 14, 20*, 35, 86, 100 Margo Rieman, 60 Gaby Rivas, 63 Daniel Rothblatt, 32 Alex Ruano, 21 Samantha Samant, 40 Hayley Siegel, 38 Noam Skiddell, 6, 9, 16 Sri, 8 Antoinette Tiam, 11 Ben Weiss, 78 Julie Weiss, 29 Robert Zimmerman, 62

Selected as co‐winners of the prize for Writing

“Flames to Dust” by Gabriel Alfassy “The Reckoning” by Janine Coelho “I Looked into the Mind” by Yana Nemirovsky*

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Hark!” Chimes the Harbinger ‐ The vine slithered across the untilled topsoil; a field, fallow and decrepit, crackling under trudging boots. From my lowly view atop the dry earthen floor, soldiers’ footing rhythmically trekked, mindfully averting the singular grape, rapidly swelling from its humble vine. A deep purple, swirling in its voluptuous orb, grew and grew to burst! The ruptured grape spewed its juice across the arid expanse, and from its vessel sprouted a rose. Then, from my slumber, I awoke. ‐ ‘Twas routine that this went about, up from my head, this dream would clout. Awaken did I to a frightfully cold sweat, meeting the cold stone floor my feet carried me to the door. Candle flickered in my grasp; descend the stairwell to dark dwellings did I. Alas, why question my ponderings? Were dreams not of norm, or for what purport did such a vision reoccur nightly? Perhaps, to call it a haunting would be a delusion, yet lest I ignore down further delusion, oft to obscure in entranced confusion. Pitter pat, pitter pat. My feet rapped against the planked floor and scuffled into the dirt dungeon depths. ‘Awaken witch!’ I would bellow towards yonder cell. From the omen cast shade, the gnarled knuckles withdrew, into my vision hobbled the shrew. The necromancer huffed, a grin she did share; beneath her dirt‐matted hair, her wicked smile carved wrinkles into her expression. Clicking her tongue, her enchanter hum, took me off to her trance. Fog rolled from ‘neath her cellar gate and in its mist she bore the answer to my query. From her dance spoke words, yet her lips remained sealed: ‘What seek from nether realm; speak of evil beyond the helm. Accost the occult, bids of a horrible tiding. From farther cliffs, your enemies are riding. To your gates! The gates of thine! Deal with this threat, plucked from the vine!’ She receded into her shade, as she was wont to nightly do. Speaking in riddles offered no true comfort, yet I saw meaning in her babbling. ‘Shoo! Back to your quarters,’ I would assure myself. Return to your sleep, for it offers no good by moonlight, to weep.

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Rise by the break of dawn, to my tower I await my herald. Gazing towards western skies, bare. Eastern seas, void. Southern woods, unfilled. Northern cliffs, he comes. ‘Hark!’ chimes the harbinger! Bearer of news, delivering my calming wish. Unraveling scroll, he would daily recite his report: ‘The witch from the abyss is surely amiss, warped by years of no sun. Sanity lack, put her off to the rack, for no men approach toward thine gate!’ ‘Twas what I thought ‐ day in and out ‐ the news he had brought. Why let such dreams perturb me? ‘I shall not ask the witch, leave her to the ditch,’ my thoughts shouted as I ended the day. By candlelight I pray, goodbye sunlit day, to my dreams I will return. ‐ The grape pulsated, its hue saturating from a deep violet to an obsidian pitch. Its swelling sought no cease. Bursting yet again, the grape oozed blackened tar. This peculiar occurrence went unnoticed, for no soldiers scampered these fields. ‐ Again, this is where I awoke. I swore to myself, ignore what the witch had spoken. Yet, even still, a possession drew me towards her cell. Downwards I scurried. ‘Awaken witch!’ And from her motionless lips, she spoke: ‘What seek from nether realm; speak of evil beyond the helm. From northern sky, the enemy is nigh. To your gates! The gates of thine! Ready your arms, warns the divine!’ Returning to her corner in the dungeon depths, the hag left me with her unspoken words. Only daybreak would sooth my fears. And so, the sun did soon rise. The western skies were bare. The eastern seas as well. The southern woods were empty. Yet, from the northern cliffs, he comes. ‘Hark!’ chimes the harbinger! His scroll, unrolled in his leather‐studded grip. He recited: ‘The witch from the abyss is surely amiss, warped by years of no sun. Sanity lack, put her off to the rack, for no men approach toward thine gate!’ Trusting his burden, the hike to mountains on the horizon, settled me with ease. No men approach, least not toward my gates. Even at rest, I dare not jest,

5 with what I have been warned. Ready the men, prepare to defend, who knows if enemies rise? ‘Tis better to be armed, rather than alarmed, and so it was as the witch had warned. I was consoled by this preparation, although confident that no blood would be shed. Even so, this allowed for sleep to descend upon my head. ‐ The herald raised his arm, a protruding beacon from the engulfing black of night. Bearing torch, my messenger returns. His face, blood‐spattered, was worn and rough. In the other hand, he clutched a withered vine. – Awaken to cold sweat, the fright to consider what my thoughts had met. Up from my bed, candle flicker and lick in my grasp, pulls me down the winding stairs. The dirt floor, lifting in plumes about my dirtied feet, swept clouds across the corridor. Clang clang! The sound of metal rapping against iron wrought bars. ‘Awaken witch!’ And so, she did. With inquisitive stare, tossing back her sheer hair, the witch again prophesized! ‘What seek from nether realm; speak of evil beyond the helm. From enemy crown, towers torn down. To your gates! The gates of thine! Set out to battle, these threats not benign!’ What a fright this did give, how could one ignore? To my bed I would await the morn, then, to my barracks would I. The sun stirred me, lifting the veils from my eyes. Approaching the window, I set and wait. Western skies desert. Eastern seas call for no alert. Southern woods alone. From northern peaks, he rides. ‘Hark!’ chimes the harbinger! Riding to my gates, the parchment declares, ‘The witch from the abyss is surely amiss, warped by years of no sun. Sanity lack, put her off to the rack, for no men approach toward thine gate!’ This, to normally sooth me, was quite out of place. The churning of events had seemed to skip a pace. To be cautious, to be safe, send my men to the north! Soldiers’ boots trudged over arid expanse, approaching the kingdom of the north. ‘tis better to strike first, warned the witch. And in such victory, such clairvoyant reward, a feast shall be had for all.

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Rounding the tables, jesters spread merriment. Laughing we share all around. The banquet, hardy and whole, was emptied eagerly from every bowl. What is this raucous, from across the table? Ah, ‘twas but my messenger, preparing a toast. Raise our glasses, our goblets and mugs. “Long live the king!” Such a pleasant thing, I last had heard, before strangulation beset in my throat. My wine, plucked from the vine, had surely been tampered with. ‘Poison! Poison!’ I choked, yet no one paid me any heed. ‘Hark!’ chimes the harbinger, as he chuckles when all turns black. I speak to thee from beyond earthly means or design. I, a ghost of my former host, bare a lesson to gain from this. Hark, please listen, I pray you possess more wit. For man often meets his end on the road he took to avoid it.

Jonah Greebel

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I awoke with a strange misconception Of how I viewed the world What used to seem so beautiful Is not as nearly bold And what I saw with gleaming eyes Is now just black and white I can’t understand natures true colors Without fighting my own mind And these daily routines now seem redundant An overwhelming bore I have a need to break away In search for something more

Yana Nemirovsky

I am your irrational fears Your cravings and lustful desires I am your impulses; I send the adrenaline trickling into your bloodstream I am your dreadful nightmares The cold icy grip onto your mind I am your hidden wishes Immoral and heart wrenching I am your phantasm Seeking to withhold your aspirations I am your forthright demeanor I am your truth.

Yana Nemirovsky

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Drowning, Burning, Laughing

A single grain of sand One lonely sandy grain Alone he runs and runs On his canvas filled with paint

In a vast sea He swims and drowns and rises Immersed in one dictatorship of a color Hot; moist; and golden

Poor blind lonesome grain Engrossed in an ardent pain Please wake up, dear grain of sand Etch through the canvas; reach out your hand

Oblivious to my preaching Travels and trips and climbs On over thirteen mountains The fool must have wasted his time

His blindness and his happiness I desire with such disdain Hides beneath his brave empty brain Ignorant miniscule grain

A Foolishly foolish fool Who neither sees nor will ever see A perfect wave in a sober pool O’ how grand it must be

To be a stupid grain of sand

Noam Skiddell

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There are so many words, But never enough, Never enough to explain, The emotions I feel on the inside, The anger, the joy, the pain.

I open my mouth, I open my mind, But nothing seems to be found, I search around, I try in vain, Everything holy, everything profane, But never is there enough. Never is there a word, A word to tell the amount of tears I cry, A word to tell the level to which my anger can rise, A word to tell the height of my joy.

Never is there enough to tell how much, Is locked away, Bottled up, Chained down to bright red walls, Steadily beating, Rapidly burning, With passion, with desire, with love.

Never is there enough to tell of all endured, To express gratitude as well as affection, Pleasure, hatred and more.

Before I knew not what to do, When there were words but I needed more. A hug was all that was necessary, It's the best option I've had for sure. And in cases where there's no words at all, When the wound is too deep for healing, What you need is a simple kiss, To best express what you're feeling.

Words by Sri

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Immortal

You asked the immortal king if he would teach you how to fly He said he’ll teach you everything, if you teach him how to die Puzzled and confused, on the pretty dirty floor you lie And you asked him why? You want to see beneath the earth and above the heavens’ skies He’d show you the entire universe, if you show him how to pluck his eyes For he's seen it all, and nothing is more beautiful than lies The only thing he learned is‐ the world is much grander in disguise You get your need; you chose to heed to bleeding words and broken pride He wrote a poem with his colors; you drew a picture with your cries In the end he falls, but you; you stand there, gazing open eyed While he’s blessed with death; you are cursed with worse‐ To stay alive.

Noam Skiddell

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L O V E . . .

An emotion that harbors strong feelings Warmth that gives your stomach that tingly sensation inside Its power amazingly overwhelming

Something that can bring people to their demise What makes people do stupid things at times— It is all for t h e i r sake This is madness…

It drives people insane; Deceitful, misleading, inflicting deep‐rooted wounds Its power incredibly almighty It hurts…

And yet, it gives hope;

It caresses you with a gentle touch To be longed for, and to be cared about To be embraced by it is like being in heaven

It tugs on your lips slowly, pulling them wider and wider Until eventually it makes you give a true smile Where you can experience a true happiness with the person you longed for all your life

It makes your heart race; thump thump thump! it goes

When it’s inside you—it’s something you never want to forget.

It is everlasting.

It will come from the most fascinating person you had ever met.

Antonette Tiam

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As the Ants

From the nesting chamber, we rise up and are told, Live as you have been given. Break not from this mold. Weak. Malleable. Clay; Upon the potter’s wheel. Built frame by frame, Coal‐fire soldered, corruptible steel. Brand me, claim me, am I not of your design? Coaxed, coerced, “You shall see in time.” Left foot, right foot. March down the road you have been paved. Right foot, left foot. Promised happiness at our journey’s end; lest we misbehave. Dig and burrow, fill up your niche. We do only as our elders order, Instructed on whom to be. They would say, “Mind not what glistens beyond the border.” The lessons taught speak of colonizing our plains, They polish us in their light so that our “value” shines. Wrong placed hate for what is foreign remains, As they seek only to colonize our minds.

Jonah Greebel

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You danced to a peculiar tune You spun your head and your bones caved in I watched you, eyed you gracefully As the world began to spin And we danced all night ‘till our feet became numb And we talked all day ‘till our tongues were tied And here we stayed, and there we cried As you danced to a peculiar tune You smiled at me while you touched my cheek My mind collapsed as you turned to me And we held each other ‘till our bodies became one And we loved each other ‘till our hearts couldn’t beat And here we touched, and there we died As you danced to a peculiar tune.

Yana Nemirovsky

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A Second

A second too long That one, glorious second It’s a whisper If even that But in that one, delicious second Everything happens In your heart, a fire erupts Lava spilling into your cheeks Into your soul It’s that hesitation, it’s asking Is friendship enough? Its silence, everything is going unsaid It’s thunderous It screaming all the thoughts in your head Maybe your hands touch Maybe your cheeks brush in a warm embrace Maybe you can’t seem to let go But when it comes down to it A second No matter how glorious Delicious Wonderful Loud Quiet Assuring And confusing it is It is still just hat A second And as you wave goodbye You find that you are scratching your head Wondering How hat one second can change Everything But somehow Everything is still exactly the same

Lauren Altus

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A Dream

My dream is to become My dream is to become a writer. Actually, my dream is to become a singer. Just playing around, my dream is to become an actor. Psych, my dream is to become a psychologist. No, no, but with all seriousness; My dream is to become A dream.

Noam Skiddell

If we choose to

if we choose to we can all join hands forget the differences there have been in the past and unite as one if we choose to we can be one community, one voice, one world we need to look past the clothes we can choose to look past the cultures, the colors let the tears and hardships be in the past we can choose to say goodbye to the prejudices and hatred it can be a calm, peaceful world if we let it we can choose to let the quest for power come to an end and just coexist we can choose to le the healing hands f love mend the cracks and wounds in the soul of mother earth we can choose to remember that it is one home we are haring instead of stealing pieces for ourselves the world is a beautiful place if we choose to let it be so

Lauren Altus

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Only a game

It was only a game Neither of us would care That way there is no pain Only A bit of fun Just for now It’s a smile A blush A whisper A touch But it doesn't matter much It’s only a game It’s nothing real A secret moment A time to feel It was the chills I got Or your heartbeat It was you being you And me being me It was mysterious A delicious memory just for us But there’s still so much not even you know Why did it have to be a game? A single moment for us to share Now we hardly talk You barely care For you the moment was truly all it was But it’s something I cant stop remembering It’s a glimmer of what could have been If everything were different It could be a string of moments Connected together To build up something of a lifestyle You’d hold my hand while I’m scared We could be real An action Not a memory But this glimmer flickers and fades While I cling to it with all I have Knowing it’s just a dream But that’s what makes it worse If this little game is all I have All I can ask Is that we play again The light

Lauren Altus

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An orb of light glows and shines It flickers and fades Shimmers and entices If follows her home Lighting her way as she walks the dark path Bouncing along Day after day Her hair falls into her eyes But she’s glad to cover her face A warm, unending light leads her way And she knows she is not alone It is warm to the touch And soothing to the smell Though many would say she has no one She knows that her orb of light is just hiding within her Giving her inner strength She gets home And pulls out the note I will always be with you, baby It reads And she sees her orb grow a little stronger Shine a little brighter She smiles a little wider But a tear rolls down her cheek She knows she will never be alone But she also knows just how hard it will be

Lauren Altus

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I looked into the mind Flooded and dense Within it stirred wonders of voices and actions Blood stained hands And unconventional lies Tyranny, evil, misleading judgments The body ages, bones grow old Bitter and broken Stories unfold.

Yana Nemirovsky

What you possess is discrete A persona that most won’t identify And when you keep to yourself The distance becomes immense The thoughts being concocted in your irrational manner Leaves you blind to all the decency that the world has yet to offer Naïve and full of despair You stride about, absent minded and oblivious Convinced that every move to be made will do harm Yet you bring yourself down, finding hopelessness from time to time You are your own worst enemy The only one to bring upon misfortune is you.

Yana Nemirovsky

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Observations swing, swing; like Time’s eternal pendulum mind’s weight shifts carelessly back and forth, open those glazed, red eyes to some salvation; to the north, the north.

watch, watch; like the owls amongst the trees, perched on their bare branches, jutting out. wait for the first fallen angels you see, then head for the south, the south.

love, love; like you’ve always wished you could shards of your heart scream to be pieced together. And as your loved ones know you should, crawl back towards the east, the east.

grieve, grieve; like the mother of a stillborn leave the guilt behind and let your gorgeous mind rest your endless thoughts have left you beaten and torn, find a new life, to the west, the west.

Alex Ruano

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Autumn’s beauty starts to shine In late September Yet glistens in windy October!

The earth shakes while the leaves dance, To the song of the winds

When the crisp autumn air croons Blissfully among the foliage

Liquid mirrors, cool and calm, flow languidly By my feet

Snow frosted mountains cut the clear sky

Gabe Alfassy

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“Nothing Left Here”

Physically just short of perfection Misplaced by your affection The night was endless Discover you; discover me

Something about the way your hand Held the back of my head Intoxicated by your touch “Like a work of art.”‐I looked so good

Not willing to fight; just willing to be It was unclear the nature of this love Didn’t matter Instead we looked above

Go as you will; you have nothing left here What was once yours, is gone; is Lust, like a flower that never bloomed We’ll pretend to leave without a trace but

Hands are shaking, hearts are breaking Walking like a one man army Better off, we thing we are You held your love over my head

I was standing at a distance; blinded by pride Little did I know, you wanted me closer Fallen to pieces but put back together again With the hands of another

Mala Lall

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Love can make you do things You never thought you’d do And it can make you do things You’ve always wanted to Love can be what you want And what you wish it wasn’t Love can make you stronger Even when it doesn’t Love can bring a smile Tears come just as fast Love is meant to grow and die Love is meant to last Love cannot be seen or heard But it can be felt Love is found and conquered Love is what you’re dealt Love exists between man and wide Or a man and a son Love exists between some friends Or even only one Love is all too simple Love is so complex Love can be relaxing Love can cause you stress Love can bring people together In perfect harmony And it can break to people apart Just as quickly

Jordan Browdy

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Unconditional she said it was And tried never to fail that truth But often times this faith in love Cast doubts that shook my heart to move

Conditional, I said it was and always is If conditions come and come too daring Love does make a man unwary And pain will scorch a heart too caring

Conditional if it is, she said She’d abide by it on all conditions Through butter change from infatuation She claimed she’d show no aberration

And I know words speak little and show nothing As Time’s passing reveals all spoken lies But I knew she’d never fall at anything For she stood for something as strong as Love

The hurt will call it conditional And the naïve will call it forever The young call it a mystery And the loved know it no better

So never mourn the self lost in another Endure ‘til future comes, don’t suffer Keep heart in prayer and just remember That Time will form the spring from winter

Sean Han

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Flames to Dust

The room is dark, a masquerade All I see’s your silhouette there in the shade Hard not to fathom what life would be, With you always right here beside me. Caught up in daydreams of just you and I, In the end it’s only me left outside alone to cry.

It seems time passes with the clock tick‐tocking And I’m just there in the background, forgotten. Love is elusive, always rare and always distant, Hard to know how it feels when only aloof it glistens.

But you don’t know me, as I don’t know you Void of any love that could ever be true.

Here lies another unread book, high upon the shelf We could never love each other, as much as we love ourselves. Selfish desires are out of control So for another lonely night, we all sleep alone.

Gabe Alfassy

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The Never‐Ending Quest

As I’m fighting but losing this war, I look for what is missing, Something from within tells me to keep me going, I hold on to all that I can, But there is still nothing there, I’m tired of asking myself the same daunting question. A sense of disgust comes over me, I feel a burning sensation in my chest, But there’s misery in my heart, It always concludes with tears in my eyes, The worst part is the feeling of loneliness. I’m surrounded by those who care, But I feel as if a wall has been put between us, They call out to me, I know they are there, Although their presence is not felt, The way out of this is those four letters, But I know the feelings are not real, I’ll take them anyway, Something that could impersonate love, Anything that will make me feel a different way, I know love is a war, And we are all fighting a losing battle.

Julie Weiss

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His As I wake up each dawn, I open my eyes to a ray of light. Immediately I am drawn to the voice I heard tell me goodnight. So smooth, so sweet, I can’t help but smile. How was I so lucky to meet This man and keep him all the while? And as for the day I get ready, I can see him in my eyes. My heart beats calm and steady, For in his hands it lies. At my hands I glance, I can feel them yearning for his. Like I’m caught in a trance, But more than content with what is. His power is forever, My gratefulness, too. His hand controls the lever, Can break my heart in two. But he is soft and gentle, Light in his eyes. Has the touch of an angel, One that can mesmerize. I hope that one day I can assure him eternity. But as for today, I promise him serenity. His heart can rest, As mine sees him only. To cause him no worry, no stress, To never leave him lonely. He is my ray of light, My sunshine no matter the weather. A feeling so peaceful, so right, Delicate like a feather. But strong like a tree Planted deep in the earth. What he is to me Is an uncountable worth. And as I close my eyes To the stars shining bright, My heart flies, Waiting‐ For his sweet goodnight.

Jess Aroose

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Ode to Love in Antigone

Love, you undefeated foe!

Love the pillager, who destroys wealth!

Love the loyal sentry, never leaving his post, the young girl’s cheek,

You cover all ground and sea alike.

Mortal and divine alike, none withstand your siege,

And where you have conquered, madness follows.

You push even the wisest man to his destruction.

You have sparked this battle between father and son

For no‐one’s benefit but yours, O love for the betrothed.

Love, you reign together with Justice,

Aphrodite ruling over all.

Yet now even I cannot defend the king.

My face streaks salty with tears abundant,

As I see lovely Antigone carried to her marital chamber

To meet finally with Death, eventual groom to all.

Daniel Rothblatt

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What is love?

Is love blind, or is love there? There are no books on how to care. A maze of feelings and a body is all we are born with And how do we even know that it’s not just a myth. Maybe a mythical creature that has snuck into the back of the minds of the innocent, Nesting thoughts of passion and companionship At our rational it may nip. Let lose upon this world with no restrain, Leaving millions destroyed in its rein A force unlike any other, It creates fathers and mothers, Sisters and brothers But where do I find it? Can I buy a kit? I have read no fairytales to understand, I have no references to recommend. Where it resides or does it reside at all? Days I wish id have someone to call, To tell me, if it even exists at all. Maybe one day I will know, But for now, I guess ill have to watch it on a show.

Abigail Cotler

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Just Out of Love

Her drained hands work robustly to finish cooking The alarm rings and she is down to the kitchen The baking dough rises before the sun has a chance The mounds of food building up on the table and lining The countertop show truly how large and warm her heart is.

She does not care about her floured face or drenched apron She does it for the enjoyment of the family. She a selfless mother duck who feeds her children before herself She is a furnace powered by the laughter and happiness of others. She is as humble as the bumble bees that pollinate the budding flowers.

The scars of past hardships hovering above her head do Not prevent her cheerful spirit from shining through. She is a person with one remaining mission in life: For everyone to remember her as a wonderful person Without my great‐grandmother’s unconditional love, Care, and guidance, I would be a duckling not yet ready to fly.

Leor Ginzburg

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Dear Ophelia…

To my beloved Ophelia A maiden whose virtues Will justify my own madness, and my unruly Passion to drink her pure breath which turns my Blood into a poisoned wine Your purity, your treasure To preserve until the end of this unholy time.

Yana Nemirovsky

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Birthmark

I am from hot and humid, Many plants, many animals I am from an island, a place all by It Self like an alien on Earth. Wavy water waves splash throughout the sea. Rich in everything known to man, It is amazing. I am the typical man and simple. I am the eagle, Soaring high, spreading its wings and exploring the world. I’m from the stars in the sky, Shining bright as possible.

Like dust, I am from many places. Like the sun, I will always be there. I am from a fast moving stream, always in a rush. And I’m always moving. This is where I come from.

Spenser McFarlane

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8th Floor

More amazed than anything I look outside the 8th floor of Cipriani, Wall Street Manhattan, The frantic city right under my chin. I look down and see yellow taxis and chaotic people Rushing to where they’re needed.

I suppose I could have been On the computer with Madison, I could have been taking a hot shower.

But instead I just stood there curious about Everyone else, watching the pushing And pulling of people fighting for a spot On the side walk To get to work. The smell of roasted nuts and hot pretzels on the Street filled the air as I opened the window. It was real.

Hayley Siegel

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Behind the Glass

My eyes glint when the light hits me. I am beautiful. I’m solid, yet I freely flow from my pane‐like form. What is behind me is even more beautiful; there us a contradiction of Hues of blue, green, and gold.

You can’t touch what is behind my glass But I can use tiny molecules to form pictures and words. I can also help you see them in a cleaner and clearer light.

My beauty is unrivaled; I tend to get over heated. I hate that infernal thing you call an oven. When you burn yourself it Serves you right! But once you break me… I get turned into sun burned lava which encloses the sun’s intense Fiery glow.

It hurts me so much. It makes me want to cry. But I can’t since I have no tear ducts. I sometimes feel out of date, but I’m the envy of your eyes.

I am simple and elegant; I come from the specks of crushed colored rocks which melt in the Lava’s heat. People call me art; after, I get pulled, pushed and blown. I don’t really know why though. All I am shards of others who have been Broken. Then I harden and become a new person, a beauty, I suppose. All I Really know is that the people before me share their stories through The resonance of my mouth.

Samantha Samant

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Affection, Not Attention

we try to find a place

a place of comfort

where people don’t stare

but you know they care

they don’t ask to many questions

they only give affection

don’t demand your attention

but now you’re lost without direction

we are completely unaware

selfishness takes us away from there

in our lives there’s not enough time

but all we have to do is open up our eyes

see the person that is by our side

and realize you can change their life

Janine Coelho

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a writer's mind the human mind intrigues me with all its capabilities to get lost in fantasy to find what the world can’t see let imagination run let your spirit fly you might be amazed at what is trapped in your mind my inability to speak the world difficulty to understand it’s stumbling through the black

extending my hand

then all of a sudden with no warning at all

the idea is caught

just before it falls

Deep in your eyes

I see a faint light the dream that I have

Is also somewhere in your mind

Janine Coelho

46

the suppression of the unknown something unbearable a pain in your chest a burning in your eyes a longing unsatisfied peace, comfort, make yourself present invade this soul and tranquilizes your caught in an embrace the warmth leaves you paralyzed you wish they could see the story behind your eyes we are all screaming out with shouts of silence all the words unsaid leave room for habits robotic movement, never changing the eyes are dead but in your head lives a life you cannot mend Wake Up! Bitter World, Arise from the grave because your life goes on Run now! Run! Feel Alive You! There! Wake Up Inside! calm calm take a breath look around Live you’re not dead yet

Janine Coelho

47

48

My friend, the id

No shame, no worries My friend, the id Cares only for himself My friend, the id Don’t answer texts, Doesn’t read between the lines My friend, the id

Never listens, only speaks My friend, the id Always knows best, My friend the id He lives in Technicolor, while I live in black and white Everyone hates My friend, the id

Lindsay Fox

49

50

the beckoning

there’s a song in the distance

we all hear it

swaying to it’s lyrical twists and turns

we are all the same

we are never the same

some buried in shame

some live wild and untamed

but a common note is sung

the chords of our lives strung

in the jaws of solitude

they intertwine

our pain in the same

our solution differs

well kept secrets encase our hearts

we sit here

waiting

waiting for someone to notice

and we will wait

for something to change

Janine Coelho

51

Silence

Silence. Comfortable silence, but silence, nonetheless. After nothing’s been said and there’s a world of world to be expressed Silence is all I could expect.

~Lindsay Fox

Ten Things I Hate About You from the movie Ten Things I Hate About You

I hate your stupid haircut and the way you think you’re always right. I hate the way you never text me back I hate it when we fight

I hate our one sided conversations and how little you seem to care. I hate it when you look at me as if I’m not even there.

I hate the way you’re good at everything I hate it that you never look me in the eye I hate how you could have anyone you want but I’ll never be the one on your mind.

I hate that I know more about you than you’ll ever want to know about me.

But mostly I hate the way you were just a waste of wishes on stars because you’ll never see me the way I see you. Lindsay Fox

52

53

The Bench

On the bench, I wait. The tide in the pond is down and the fish are visible. I wouldn’t have noticed, but I’m alone.

On the bench, I’m alone. There’s a space next to me where you should be. It wouldn’t have made a difference, but I wondered.

On the bench, I wondered. Where could you be? Today’s the day to sit in the park. It wouldn’t have mattered, but the sky is rose‐tinted and the air is perfect.

On the bench, I realized. Despite the perfect air, the rose‐tinted sky, and the space next to me where you should be, you would never come. Our perfect day was never ours at all.

And so, the sun set the air chilled but the space remained.

Lindsay Fox

54

55

Untitled 2

The words are diseased. I hate the ghoul who created the paper and the monster who created the pen because somewhere from my mind to the page,

the words get jumbled the messages get mixed the idea is changed

The language looks different on paper. Too final, too vernacular. You can’t write feeling or pen an emotion And that’s the most frustrating thing of all.

Lindsay Fox

56

The Spinning Tea Cups

More amazed than anything, I run to go to the tea cups, Pink and yellow. Tipping like the spout of the pot, Pouring tea into the cup, Winding into circles and circles

I suppose I could have gone, On a roller coaster, a merry‐go‐round, or play carnival games But I didn’t want to.

Instead I took the spin on the tea cups Feeling alive Feeling that the world was revolving around me Feeling like time would on forever. It goes right, it goes left, constantly spinning.

I went alone. I went to slowly spin into the skies of my soul. Hoping I could change the past and think about my future. The tea cups spin and spin until they want to stop. I try to figure out what I want to be, A doctor, a nurse, a teacher? But I realize I’m only a kid and don’t need to choose my job. Finally I get off and realize that life will go on with or without me.

Daryl Last

57

58

Mom

In the evening After a dreaded day of drudgery She hops on the crusty old rickety train Tugging along To do more work When she gets home. Hops on the computer And does more work, Coffee‐tasting work, Quiet Lonely Tense tedious.

In the morning when Burgundy golden orange strobe lights Fill the sky And its newborn baby awakens To bring life to the empty world, My sleepy eyes open. Heaving myself out of bed, I meander Into the shower To get ready To go to school.

Inside the freezing frosty fridge Waiting like always Carefully packaged In a crunchy brown paper bag Sits my lunch my mom prepared for me.

Sizzling crispy potato chips Sweet succulent fruit Crunchy Salty nuts And a delectable sandwich.

Adam Barda

59

The Room

Old Tommy had a glorious dream To appear on the big silver screen Though now he may seem like a jerk He’s simply just proud of his work

On the faraway year of 2004, Ol’ Tommy had bad actors walk through the door He got out his cameras and creepy trench coat And acted out all the words that he wrote

Buying red roses and greeting some doggies Drugs, sex, violence and other such follies To most of the people who’d watched “The Room” Thought viewing the whole thing is the ultimate doom

Talk to us now, and what do we say? “The Room” gets quotes each and every day! So be like ol’ Tommy and ignore all the hate And achieve all yours dreams, before it’s too late!

Dave La Rosa

60

61

Love the Life You Live

Live life to the fullest,

Don’t let a day go by,

Appreciate what life has to offer,

Time will truly fly.

Admire the birds chirping,

And the children playing in the park,

Listen to their laughter

From morning until dark.

Never give up,

And conquer those fears,

Don’t listen to what others say,

Make the best of each day, week, and, year.

Love the life you live,

Don’t take anything for granted,

Think about how lucky you are,

And how each moment is enchanted.

Rachel Fisher

62

Alive

A sudden light gradually glistening over the horizon Such a beautiful anticipation, the sun was waiting to rise I turn to my left and run down the shore line I am alive, I am alive

The wonderful wishes of life The world is outside waiting to be discovered An everlasting journey that needs to be started this instant Leaving to start is not the difficulty, where to start is

So many miraculous wonders Chances to learn, chances to play People to meet This day has no ending

Unexpectedly the once dawn turns to dusk The sun goes back to its hiding place The day is over, we are through I was alive, I was alive

Margo Rieman

63

64

Lumer

More unusual than others I stared at him blankly Stray cat. Hungry And alone, Walking like a hawk in the wind, Scared of nothing. Coming closer to my closed door, Passing my dog like he’s not there, He arrives at my door. I suppose I could have left him In the cold, But instead he got tuna fish.

Robert Zimmerman

65

Living my Life

I’m from where the language Spanish is found

With the meowing from out furry pet cat Toby.

I’m from the sound of the game Bejeweled Blitz

And foods like rice and tortillas. The sound of a clarinet

Playing in my living room. I’m from the typing of computers and blasting music

Dancing the night away with family and friends to meringue beats in the sea of stars.

I’m from phone calls from grandma lying down on her couch lonely with the barking dog Bengi.

I’m from Hewlett High School where I interact with teachers and friends

In the classroom or at lunch. After school I’m running on a paved concrete circle

for an 800 meter race.

The routines of going to school, eating, homework, and sleep.

The changes that happen are what I live for, and the moments that I cherish.

Gaby Rivas

66

Very Special

As I struggle

With the peel

It’s such a hard deal:

The fruit of which

I want to eat

Called an orange.

I hear the squeak of a door‐hinge.

A figure appears.

It’s my mom

There to help

Before I yelp.

She peels the orange,

Gives me my health and joy.

Her hands are there to help me

And raise me.

Saverio Bosco

67

This is Just to Say

I have given You something back That was rightfully mine.

I feel horribly for that I have done And how much I have hurt you.

We don’t talk or text anymore. You gave me something to Make me happy And i gave it back With no regret.

I cant stand the Distance between us. We walk in the hallway but In the opposite ways

But I didn’t think I should Have kept it Cause we Are no longer friends

Forgive me, Cause we used to be Close and Now we Couldn’t be Further apart.

Zaria Mayers

68

69

English Rap

Now here’s a little story, I’m about to tell About an English class, that you know so well It started way back before October 5th With me, my classmates and of course, Dr. Smyth.

Just me on my own, no reason to write Riding cross the land, picking up fights

But one day last year I chose this class It was a tough decision thought I would pass But it introduced itself and I took that class

“Yo this is English and it’s got a license to grammar I think you know what time it is It’s time to get educationally fatter Now what do we have here? A student who needs help? You know my name, take this class, and you will not yelp”

I said I’ll take this class if you can teach me how to write The other language classes never showed me and light So off we went, together on the mission Promised me to start me on my English ignition

So there I was then, reading articles and stuff Plato’s allegory and writing to get tough Writing essays that really expressed thought This education that I got was very cheaply bought

Now we are here finishing the half Enjoying my time and having a good laugh Off to the next, this rap is partially done It will finish once our writing skills have won

Benjamin Klyachman

70

Determination

I am something your born with deep down inside A trait you can’t teach that will make man fly. I do not allow one to quit when the going gets hard, However through tedious work he will reach his bar. I am what drove Michael Jordan to be the best in the game, Now greatness is always associated with his name. I drive students to be the very best, In hopes that they live life without regrets I kept pushing Edison to invent the light, The man used me to work day and night I was motivating Americans under George Washington, If not for me, Britain might have won the revolution. You can find me alive in all navy SEAL men, I killed Osama Bin Laden.

Zach Dukoff

71

72

A Place that She Now Calls Her Home

It's hard to believe She is being forced To leave A place that she now Calls her home

She is beginning to fear That the end is near And all she'll have is memories

She is leaving her past The time has come at last But she won't forget the tears and laughter

She knows she has to move on But she knows she always belongs At this place she now calls home

The First Day

She walks off the bus with a scared look on her face Just hoping that everything will fall into place Unsure of what to do She turns to you

You smile at her with bright eyes and say Boy is this your lucky day, You have come to a place so special and dear Don't worry there's nothing to fear

She is no longer scared about arriving at this place But you walk her to her new home just in case Being through her position before you know what it is like So you want to make sure everything is just right

She looks at you and thanks you for what you've done And you tell her, The fun has just begun Anonymous

73

74

Pain

That stabbing, aching pain crashes and rips throughout your body, Violently dropping at your stomach and making a sharp left somewhere inside. The screams within your ears reverberate and fill every corner of the mind. Your heart is being dragged on a stick through barbed wire and leaves you feeling nothing but chilling emptiness. Numb.

The pain of realization sinks quickly like a doomed capsized ship. No way to save yourself; The ice cold water is a thousand knives

Thoughts, actions replay in your eyes, finally seeping, sinking into your mind. Your thoughts are a virus, silently provoking panic; allowing it first to ripple and then to consume you. Memories dangerously unfold as you analyze the situation. You ask yourself the futile question with only one disappointing answer, Did that really happen?

Your heart is heavy and your eyes are swollen from the oceans There's nowhere to go from here.

Cherie Luo

75

76

Collection of Epitaphs

HAMLET

Son then Nephew of Denmark’s King. He gave that Uncle’s pride a wring Feigning Madness, Enduring Shame. Here lies Hamlet: loved, then maimed.

QUEEN GERTRUDE

Here lies the Queen, The unsuspecting victim Of the collapse of a family And the death of her King.

HAMLET

Loving advances to Ophelia made, Bearing promise, bearing body Then quickly retreating for his own hateful sake Now he rests, with that promise and body rotting.

HAMLET

To be or not to be Living is but a slow death So here lies he who suffered existence And lost everything but persistence.

CLAUDIUS

Here lies Claudius, who dishonored a kingdom He laid the path to where he’d lie. Here lies he who knew naught but dishonesty. And there will never be a man as selfish as he.

KING HAMLET

Here lies the King, who found his peace Past life repaired and land restored With life avenged and soul released.

77

OPHELIA

Madness took what madness found Sweet Ophelia’s life was bound With her father slain and Hamlet gone Now she lies in Heaven’s dawn.

Sean Han

The Boy

Glowing hazel brown eyes melt my heart in an second, turning me into a pool of nothing but admiration, making it painstakingly difficult to look away.

His words are poetry, beautiful and awe‐inspiring Flitting around before landing on my soul, Weighing a hundred pounds.

His deep, intuitive stare sends electricity pulsating through my veins. His smooth touch is warm on my skin, branding his love Leaving a print of acceptance and understanding, Causing my heart to skip every other beat And blood to pound in my ears.

I apologize for kissing the boy you look at so longingly. We are perfection: in tune, in synch with each other, Understanding each other's complexity and madness I capture these moments of pure bliss and silently pray they are never ending

Cherie Luo

78

79

Lost Soul

I am that person that you will not remember. Not in twenty years, not in ten minutes Just another lost face in the sea Going unnoticed, always disappointing Hopefully, soon a headline feature.

I am the one who you who stole a passing glance at on the rickety subway. I quietly wonder to myself if you know what's going to happen at the second to last stop.

Please notice me, I want to cry out Ask me what is wrong, take a minute to listen, Stop me from ruining myself.

But I am invisible, unimportant; another lost soul With no particular features to make you stare or wonder, Nothing but an empty shell craving darkness

This is the end. You do not know that this will be my last car ride, I slowly get up and you spare a glimpse at me as I brush your knee The moment is gone. I think I hear screams as I fling myself into fading black nothingness But I can't be sure

Cherie Luo

80

The Rhythm Section

Driving the triple‐decker bus of the band Riding the cymbal Keeping time, keeping order Adding change and surrounding the air with color Improvising with creative minds under dark fedoras Walking the bass line and comping the keys Communication and passion A trio of sounds Igniting the swing groove Exploding into jazz

Ben Weiss

Disappearance

The stone settled into the shallow green water Waving branches called to it Beckoned to it The lights on the surface so serene The water like a green mirror The stone lay on the floor of the sea Beyond my reach forever A cloud of sand And the stone was gone Its music drifted to a whisper Like a lost love

Ben Weiss

81

82

The month of Dread and Delight

June is the most stressful month to be a kid Dread and happiness spread just days apart The times you wanted to see a friend you were forbid That decision never felt right in your heart

Waited upon all school year camp will arrive The excitement building every day but to no avail Each impatient camper acting as though he or she is five Time passing by as slow as the lonesome snail

School is almost over after the tough year But the biggest obstacle still lays ahead The end of the year finals always there to fear Studying all night just to pass out in bed

Finishing the final exam with a giant grin All students worlds are about to spin

True Soldiers

The sun is setting in the sky With darkness comes the question why Trying to hold their heads high But grief is showing in their eyes They knew signing up was a great risk There was no turning back in a whisk They were all deployed together Going to return home with Spring weather But no one can predict what happens in war Soldiers die in bloody galore Birds still flying show them a sign Their respect for him will never decline Paying dues every day to never forget None of them would ever want to regret They will always meet at that gruesome spot Staring ahead at the grave thinking what If it was I who was shot

Anonymous

83

84

Silent Cry Gasp, gasp, gasping for air Powerless fate, Squeezing, churning throat and lungs Start to suffocate. Drip, drip, all the sweat drops, From the fire and burning, Nightmares and sleepless nights, Twists and turning. A colorless setting, A blank mind, A meaning to life and emotions, All left behind. Backward, forward Left or right No color nor shine, Not a person in sight. Look at a helpless me, Don't think of what to do, I try to bear this loneliness, And live through this solitude. What crime have I done? To have no one in my field, I bear no letter "A" Nor to the devil do I kneel. Living it lonely, I must be truly insane. Chuckling and laughing At my own cries and pain. Senselessly searching, For a chance that's near, To escape this fate, Longing for voices to hear. Its getting warmer, I crack a smile, A surprised expression, Though dormant for a while. A beautiful scenery, A bright light, A tapping on my shoulder, "Excuse me, are you alright?"

Mariam Ganny

85

86

The f0llowing six poems were submitted to the Poet Laureate Contest 2011; the last printed won the poet the honor.

Where The Road Begins

It’s here The road begins The time is now These walls are thin They kept us safe And taught us well Giving memories And stories to tell But there’s the road It’s at our door Where it will go We are not sure But we know we must follow Even with fear in our hearts Because it an adventure And this is the start We take our paths Bittersweet Unaware if we’ll ever meet But we won’t forget This is true So, traveler, This one’s for you Let the future embrace you And let faith take you on Enjoy every moment And remember to be strong Believe in your dreams Even when the nights get cold Because anything can happen And even the smallest of seeds can grow So, now, our journey is over The adventure begins Never forget It’s only one life we live

87

Now it’s time to pack up And time to go To gather our things And hit the open road We see each face As we look around And wonder who we’ll be Ten years from now Different journeys To different place Different people With familiar faces How will we get there? How hard will we try? How many moments of joy? How many tears will we cry? But it’s here, right now, this walk, these gowns These friends, these sounds, the smiles of our town These sons will become husbands These daughters will become wives But these are the moments we’ll remember For the rest our lives

Janine Coelho

88

The Time Has Come

To look past our regrets, our misunderstandings But to focus on our success To remember our outstanding accomplishments And to grasp our incredible strength We have learned to love, to respect and above all to create wonders We have had hope And we have lost hope We have given up, given in and most of all given back We have grown, and we have thrived We have fallen and we have plunged But through it all we withstand what has broken us We have witnessed countless circumstances And with that we have the power Willingly we embraced complexity Denied all that could harm us And evaded conflicts We sought out to make our dreams come true And stopped at nothing to do so With authoritative figures Helpful hands, and accommodations We have turned our confusions and worries Into achievements and fulfillments Opening a new door to life We have written our stories Edited our paths, and started a new journey Overwhelmed, engulfed and swamped We take our worries to a brand new level To start somewhere we have never been before An adventure of sorts, unknown and untouched In search for something more Time is at a halt And we use these years as a friendly reminder To all that we have dealt with And to all the new experiences that will come So we thank ourselves And those who impacted us For making this transition as painless as possible Time will stop now But as we leave it will begin again.

Yanina Nemirovsky

89

“Ooh, look at the cute, little, ninth grader.” “She looks scared.” “Let’s mess with her.” Fear. They circle me. They pick me up, they throw me around. They are older, taller, unfamiliar. I try to run away, but I’m trapped in their circle. “Hey, need a ride home?” A savoir! A knight with car keys and a smile. Just as old, tall, and unfamiliar as the ones who Treated me like a rag doll. They freeze. They put me down. They back off. The ones I fear Fear him. No, not fear. Respect.

I arrive home safely. I grow up.

“Why do you have so many books, kid?” “Why won’t you answer us, freshman?” “Let’s get him.” Fear. They circle him, try to take his books. He tries to run, but he’s trapped. “Need a ride home?” I say with a smile. They freeze. They drop his books. They back off. The ones he fear, Do they fear me? No, not fear. Respect.

Lindsay Fox

90

Commencement

This commencement that we now face Holds meaning beyond compare The hard work of the past four years Finally coming to fruition

This roller coaster called High School Has shaped and changed us Until hardly recognizable we now emerge, Ready to take on the rest of our lives

Someday we’ll look back on this moment, Proudly sitting among peers As our send off to the future And the abolishment of most of our fears

For eagerly now we await our names’ call And striding forward to receive our diploma We’ll beam with pride and grasp our degree, Hardly realizing what it all truly means.

This time we’ve spent is now forgot The journey, at its end We face the cusp, this graduation The culmination of all our work and dreams

So take this moment, the last of so many, And think back on the time you have spent At George W. Hewlett High School, But don’t dwell on how fast time went.

Our life in high school has come to an end, We now will be called “Alumni”, No longer can we walk the halls once called ‘Home’, Instead we will find new halls to roam.

Matthew Locker

91

You’re next. The author tells me to smile.

While you’re quietly falling apart, she says, everything will come together. Everything falls into place. Decisions are made, no time for regrets.

But, was the author right? Obediently, I took orders she gave me, write your essays, do your homework, study. Ludicrously, I took these commands in stride.

But now I’m positive I’ll be miserable. Were these my decisions? Why can’t I take all of the stars I’ve wished on And use them to start again?

Again, there’s not enough time to reconsider. Her pen poised.

My name is called. Now, shake his hand. Smile for the picture. This chapter is finished.

Lindsay Fox

92

A Look Back

Alone we come into this world Alone we must depart Yet together now we all do sit One collective, beating heart.

The journey to this moment Began with but a step From Kindergarten to here and now Our path has already been set

Through the trials, fun and games, The learning and the tears, We have come through beautifully, And faced so many fears,

Like will they think I’m silly, Or am I good enough, What if I’m not pretty, Or smart, or tough?

The years of life we came through, To reach this single day, Were hard and long and arduous, Though incredibly special, in each and every way.

To be here at graduation, Is a day we never thought would arrive, Let us thank every person, Who helped us, guided us, and affected our lives.

Looking back on what we faced, Then staring straight ahead, We can see everything that we once chased, And eagerly seek to do so again.

Enjoy the present moment But don’t forget the past Yet anticipate the future For life goes quite fast.

Matthew Locker

93

94

To Live and Let.

Abruptly silent is the night Quietly sleeps the screeching kite. All so gentle, all so still Peacefully sleeps tomorrow’s kill

As we all walk a dwindling path Who will overcome the jungles wrath? Of the strongest few survive And only one may stay alive

If your intellect can grasp the light You will scope atrocities you find a fright. Yet with this light you now control The knave, the slave, and the Worthless soul.

Look here!! These mice, they come in monstrous hordes Drop your hammer and you’re sickle swords. Kings, queens, lords, of monarchy! These mice have found democracy!

Now life’s lesson is truly learned To leave a seed that will not burn. Make the seed grow big and tough To bring humanity close enough. Yes, freedom, that’s the key To live and let mankind be.

Ben Klyachman

95

Brothers of Discussion

The brothers of discussion Are brilliance in a coupe The bowl of intelligence The glass of beau Whether the emptiness of a shell Or the insanity of certain looks The brothers of discussion Always give it, the second look

The world is at end The plate of guilt begins The cup of our morality Is a mere cup of sins The brothers, they talk, they do, he sings For whenever the kettle is full Empty, and fill with a new thing

Soaring

The jump, the high, the peak at the top It flows, it glows, the energy nonstop The feeling, it joys, it feels forever The capability to complete the craziest endeavor

But up is still up, it never can last The ground will be hit, it will come very fast The fall, the pain, the hit on the floor Worse than ever, the inevitable sore

But the pain it can stop, by one more jump The leap, it is great, the escape of the dump The feeling, it joys, it feels forever Never back down, happiness together

The ground is no more, but yet you are falling Exorbitant hell, that’s all that is calling The jump, was it worth it, to feel the fake good You are lost, so alone, fly, if only you could

Ben Klyachman

96

Excerpt from Short Story ‘Opposite Day’

As I drifted off into sleep, an event that I normally ignore and forget, I felt a jolt of energy run through my body, but I was too deep into sleep to stop myself from dreaming... Before I knew it, I stood on a hill, looking out on a bright, calm meadow, as a gentle breeze passed my face. From the top of the hill I started walking towards the tranquility, as if some unseen force beyond gravity was bringing me closer. Halfway down the hill, as I felt that I was about to break into a sprint to get to the lush grass even faster, I stopped myself short. Something tugged on my back like a giant elastic band, snapping me to a halt and pulling me back up the hill. I was filled with a sense of dread as I climbed back up the hill, unsure of why this was happening, but I continued to climb back upwards. Before I knew it, I was grabbing rocks to pull myself higher, as if I was atop a mountain. Looking down, I realized that I was on top of a mountain, and the lush meadow was hundreds of feet below. I kept going until I reached the top, and looked down at the meadow once I did. It stretched on for miles, as far as the eye could see, in one direction. There was a 180 degree view of sheer peace and tranquility that filled me to the brim with a vibrant positivity that I could barely contain. I was about to start the long climb back down to the meadow, when the elastic band on my back gave another sharp tug, and I quickly spun around. Behind me had been a desolate wasteland, a graveyard where hope and peace probably went to die. I grew cold and started to shiver, and I could see my own breath. Where the sun had been bright and inviting on the other side of the mountain, this sun was blood red. It spilled harsh light across the ravines and mottled land before me, and I had to squint to look at the sky. All of the clouds were black, and the feeling I was filled with could only be explained as sheer, indescribable dread and terror. I was so transfixed on this terrible sight and the feelings I was having, that I completely forgot about the beauty and happiness that I knew was in front of me at one point. I turned around, suddenly hopeful to see a warm sun again, but when I spun around, I was greeted by the same sight I had seen on the other side. I was completely surrounded by desolation, pain, and anger. I began to cry, loud sobs escaping my body before I could contain them. I felt alone, scared, and my will to go on escaped me completely. I collapsed on the top of the mountain, and squeezed my eyes tightly shut, trying to escape the pain that was rushing into my body. I felt numb to it all, trying to recede into my own mind, but my eyes flew open again and I was back to the pain and anger and fear. It ravaged me, and I threw my head up and screamed, “Why are you doing this to me God, what have I done to deserve this pain? What could possibly be worth it all?” I stared at the sky for what felt like an eternity, panting while tears streamed down my face. The black sky looked like smeared paint, the clouds like

97 seas of ash and dirt. Anger seemed to come off of me in waves, and it appeared as if I could see it being exuded from my skin like steam. I stood with my neck arched, scanning the sky for anything. I wasn’t sure what would come, and I don’t even know why I looked. The black clouds became rolling thunderheads that filled the sky. Lightning prickled from the monoliths in the sky and the air became thick and charged. Something was going to happen. I knew it. I screamed up at the sky again, shouting as loudly as I could to be heard over the thunder, although to who I did not know. “Give me whatever you’ve got. I can handle it. Just keep pushing me down and torturing me, I’m not going to give in. I’m better than this. You can’t hurt me. I won’t let you hurt me!” The thunder and lightning abated as my words were still ringing through the air. The enormous clouds dissipated as I watched, although if it took a few seconds or a few hours I have no idea. As the clouds thinned, the sun started to brea through, until the light shined so brightly and directly into my eyes I was temporarily blinded. At the same time, I was filled with such warmth that it could only be described as mystical. I lost my balance and started to fall backwards, but caught myself just in time. As I compensated forwards, still blinded, the rock in front of me gave out and I began tumbling down the mountain side. As I hurtled downwards, I felt no fear or pain, as if the sunlight had warmed me so much that no negative feelings could exist anymore. I came to a stop on my back, with my eyes still clenched. I opened my eyes after a few moments, and found myself laying on a soft blanket of grass, looking out onto the tranquil meadow. I still had the warm feeling resonating through my entire body, so I sat up and looked around at my surroundings. The mountain was gone, and along with it the barren valley and desolate surroundings. The sky was a deep royal blue, and silky clouds rolled all along the horizon. The sun shone, and birds chirped. It felt perfect. I inhaled deeply, taking in what could only be the sweetest air imaginable, and I felt perfectly at peace. I realized that I was smiling, which was something that I had not done in many months. Ahead of me on the horizon, I saw what appeared to be a figure, but it was too far away to know for sure. Whoever it was, they were brightly lit, with a seemingly internal radiance. I squinted, straining to see who it could be. For some reason, in the moment I felt completely at peace with this perfect stranger who was fast approaching. Whoever it was appeared to be walking towards me, but too slowly to wait for. As I stood up to go greet this figure, I opened my eyes and woke up in my bed.

Matthew Locker

98

Castle in the Air

It’s just a dream, there's nothing real No sense, a false hope, an illusion of the mind a practice ground to eliminate how I truly feel But there's a willingness to attach, I need to bind Must I break free and face this reality And leave my incubus behind I don't want to, but it’s the only way I have to try No longer will I stare, my duty starts here! Now I must let go of my castle in the air.

The deadly feel of fire, the intoxicating smoke. It warms the flesh away, it causes us to choke. The enemy is like us, it breathes the same as we but live without it, and we will surely freeze

The warmth and happiness we feel, are created by its lies Caught on so easily, but blown away it dies So what's to make of the bittersweet it causes But control oneself and heave it in small doses

Have the power to concentrate your blow For it will strike, and strike down low Knowing to little, it'll burn the flesh with ease but live without it, and we will surely freeze

Ben Klyachman

99

100

General Anxiety

Anticipation, hushed and bated yet ever‐present. For what awaits us down the road? No time to wonder, sigh, or groan. Whether explicit or written in code, The future is ours to own.

Skip and hop, and please don’t stop Shout and sing, it doesn’t mean a thing.

Until we’re buried in the ground, We have the right to make a sound.

Make as much of every day, And live no single other way. For life is meant to be enjoyed, Don’t live like every other droid.

The pressures of life are trivial When compared with what truly means The most to you, and yet it seems That what’s important must be put aside For the stressful tasks in life.

Don’t let it overwhelm you, Or ever feel you’ve drowned For nothing truly warrants This general anxiety.

Matthew Locker

101

102

She lets out a slow relieving sigh, it doesn’t say much to others who witness this action but it says all to the girl. With this she releases the daily stresses and tensions that she has endured throughout the day. The painful criticism on daily life, as well as the exhausting ritual that she calls living. To others this miniscule breath, which may seem as a sign of impatience, is nothing but a mere reflex, but to her it is another sign to be recognized as her incapability to be patient with the day. She’s confused you see, mentally out of line, and incapacitated from her routine. She dives into the outer most shell of her dreams, so she may dwell on different sorts of experiences just to escape those that have followed her perpetually. Yet she must remind herself, this isn’t abnormal...no quite the opposite, for she just has to embrace patience and get through the day in order to experience life at its fullest. It’s a waiting game she must play and in doing so she will receive gratification in the long run, for willingly lasting through a period of dullness and confusion that every human being on earth goes through eventually. We all let out this “sigh” every once in a while, to feel the natural boredom and abrupt irritability with how we are living now.

Yanina Nemirovsky

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