Oriel Literary Magazine:

2012

~ Cover Photo by Jasmine Bender

2012 Oriel Staff:

Faculty Editor in Chief: Christiane Cullens Student Editor in Chief: Amberosity Davis-Gott Senior Editors: Emma Oppewall Alexa Bonsey The Oriel staff would like to thank: MDIHS Administration and Faculty for their support, friends and family for supporting us in our creative process, MDIHS students for sharing their creativity and making this magazine possible, and our readers for partaking of our efforts. Enjoy.

~ Emma Oppewall
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Table Of Contents Cover Photo, Jasmine Bender........................................................................................ Cover Untitled, Emma Oppewall...................................................................................................... 2 I Married a Monster, Anonymous.......................................................................................... 4 Through The Looking Glass, Alexa Bonsey.......................................................................... 8 Autobiography in Six Words, Jamin Keene.......................................................................... 8 Untitled, Monica Phippen....................................................................................................... 9 Redemption in a Dream (Excerpt), Amberosity Davis-Gott.............................................. 10 Tessellations, Angie Chisholm............................................................................................... 12 Remember, Amberosity Davis-Gott...................................................................................... 13 Untitled, Marisa Prestinari.................................................................................................... 13 Untitled, Anonymous............................................................................................................. 14 To Wait, Maureen Grubb.......................................................................................................14 Untitled, Anonymous............................................................................................................. 15 Ming and Three Colorful Feathers, Ning Ye........................................................................ 16 Untitled Sculpture, Zachary Johnson.................................................................................. 18 Dry Grass, Ning Ye............................................................................................................... 19 Untitled, Tom Reilly............................................................................................................... 20 Untitled, Caroline Homer...................................................................................................... 20 Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Swim Meet, Cece Andrews................................................ 21 Dreamer, Jacob Frankel........................................................................................................ 23 Untitled, Caroline Homer...................................................................................................... 23 The Edge of the World, Maeve Weber................................................................................. 24 Hidden, Amberosity Davis-Gott........................................................................................... 25 Untitled, Christopher Heel.................................................................................................... 25 Spring Fever, Anonymous..................................................................................................... 26 Coastline, Amberosity Davis-Gott........................................................................................ 26 Untitled, Max Mason............................................................................................................ 27 Big Apple, Amberosity Davis-Gott...................................................................................... 28 Jungle, Anonymous.............................................................................................................. 29 I Love Eddies Boat, Lourdes Millay................................................................................... 29 Student and Teacher, Mandy Tracey................................................................................... 30 Nostalgia, Anonymous......................................................................................................... 31 Haiku, Anonymous............................................................................................................... 31 My Loving Family, Pauline Garcia...................................................................................... 32 Haikus, Anonymous.............................................................................................................. 32 War is a Waterfall, Anonymous............................................................................................ 33 Shes Leaving, I Miss Her, Anonymous............................................................................... 34 Fluidity, Alexa Bonsey.......................................................................................................... 35 Untitled, Anonymous............................................................................................................ 35

I Married A Monster
Every corner, every shadow and every wall was watching her. Courtney was a twenty three year old woman married to John. Tall, with brown hair, green eyes and a personality that seemed to match with anyone; John was the perfect husband. Being three years younger than him, Courtney saw herself as the most fortunate wife in her entire town. At 56 and thin she was and art teacher with long brown hair as well as the most beautiful wife. With no children, the two had been married for a year and a half, living in Colorado. It started with an everyday breakfast before she had to go to the high school. John made her the usual, pancakes and bacon for breakfast that filled the entire house with the aroma of smoked hickory. Upstairs putting her hair in a bun, Courtney sleepily headed down to the kitchen. She heard a noise in her head, like steps. She looked up seeing John coming at her running with a knife. She fell down fifteen steps from dodging him, screaming the entire way down. When she reached the bottom her pinky was jetting out to the side. She looked up to see John running from the kitchen, spatula in hand. What happened?! he yelled. She stuttered, confused, I- I tripped on my robe she said trembling, Im fine though. She shielded her hand from sight. I should probably get ready to go, the kids have a test that needs to be put into the grade books. John looked at her with concern gushing over him. Courtney backed up the stairs, watching her beloved husband return to the kitchen. Wincing from the pain of her hand she got dressed and peeked out their bedroom door to call down to her husband. I may have to take some of those pancakes with me. She waited for the response to come from downstairs, so she could locate what room he lurked in. A few moments passed until John yelled, Already packaged some up for you. Is it going to be a late night for you at the school? Im afraid it might be. Ill be home for dinner though. Courtney raced downstairs, snatched up her keys and phone and sprinted out the door. The rest of the day was like her everyday routine. The classes learned about the color wheel and how to make pinks, greens, and browns. The only difference being the occasional What happened to your finger?! from a questioning student. For John the day was and everyday routine as well. He headed to his job which was designing as a Landscape Architect; this is what supported him and Courtney to be able to have the three story house. As he walked in the door, he pried open the tupperware lid which held the pancakes Courtney forgot, and sat down at his desk. As he ate he thought about
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why she forgot the food, why she really fell, and couldnt come up with a reason to why she didnt say goodbye. It must be an off day, he thought to himself. As the day progressed it was soon time for John to head back to their house. Still being stuck on the chaotic morning, he decided a romantic dinner would be fitting. He raced home after quickly stopping to pick up ingredients for salad, and seasonings for a steak. As he pulled in the driveway, he saw Courtney through an upstairs window throwing a random assortment of things into a bag. Without delay John snatched up his bags and curiously raced inside. Ive got to get out of here. Hes going to kill me, I need to hide. Courtneys thoughts were racing as she threw knives, hunting guns and sharp objects into a duffle bag. The crash of the door closing came ringing upstairs. The sound hit Courtney so hard, she fell onto the bed, nearly landing on the bag. Courtney! Im home, and get ready for dinner! Said a cheery voice from the kitchen. She threw the bag into the shadows of the closet. Out of sight, out of mind. As she got dressed, she realized that John almost never made dinner. Is he trying to poison me? She wondered. Ill have him take the first bite. Courtney decided, as she briskly walked down the stairs in her loose fitting jeans and paint covered shirt. As she turned the corner she held her breath. She didnt want him to sense that she still had the morning on her mind. Entering the kitchen, she found two candles on either end of the table and a seasoned grilled steak with a salad on the side. You didnt have to. She exclaimed in a unenthused voice. Today has been all over the place, its the least I could do. As she watched him eat she began to wonder if she was imaging all this. She knew she was half asleep when it happened, but John was a loving husband of a year and a half, he had no motive. The rest of the dinner was silent as they both ate. As she was eating though she began to feel uneasy about the knife she left out for dinners like this one. She gripped hers, ready to use it at any moment. John calmly cut into the steak, ate his salad and sat at the table politely until she was finished. She carefully ate, only looking at her food examining every piece. When dinner was finished Courtney was still staring at her plate, not blinking, and what seemed to not even be breathing. Her mind was blank. She heard nothing but the voices that spoke of her husbands plans. The voices that streamed in Courtneys mind were uncontrollable. Poison, Guns, Knifes, Starvation. Every way possible to get rid of her, John was planning. Tonight he will cover your pillow with poison. You need to run, he has no mercy. The voices warned her. Courtney? You havent moved for nearly five minutes. Courtney? John looked at his wife with the same concerned look from the morning. He noticed her hand, the pinky was bent
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and limp with black bruises covering the surface. John left the candles, the knives, the moment and Courtney behind in the kitchen. He walked into the living room and turned on the television to channel 7 for the news hour. He wanted his mind to wander from the thoughts of what had happened to his wife to make her like this. She just needs time. He told himself as he spread himself out on the couch, sighing when he realized he had left the clicker on top of the T.V. He slumped forward to retrieve it and glanced into the kitchen as he did so. Courtney was still sitting there; not blinking, not moving, not speaking. Her hand was still latched to her weapon. Never let go. He will never stop, you will never win. You have no where to hind anymore. The voices were toppling over one another, jumbling up words as they spoke. Ten minutes had gone by now. John slowly entered the kitchen. Courtney, he's here, now. He will win. She jumped out of her chair, hair was leaping from side to side as she herself went towards John with here knife pointed directly at him. He ducked under the potential stab as the weapon got caught in the wall. John grabbed her from the stomach and pushed her to the other side of the kitchen. He too grabbed his knife but threw it into the living room, out of reach. Afraid for his life, he darted outside into his car and pealed away. Your nothing, you missed him! You not worth the fight, give up now or be made a fool of. The voice criticized her as she retrieved the two knifes and locked the doors. I tried! Im just not good enough! yelled Courtney. She sobbed and feel to the floor. The rest of the night she watched television. It kept the criticizing voices out of her head. Afraid they would come back to haunt her if she went to bed, she laid awake listing to the voices coming from the screen. John drove three hours to Courtneys parents house. He bursted in through the door, still worked up and confused. He knew now that the morning was more serious than Courtney portrayed, that his wife no longer existed and that he had no idea what was going on with her. He breathlessly tripped over his words as his step parents listened. I do not believe it. She would never do such a thing. Margret defended. Margret was short with white hair cut up to her shoulders curled at the ends. She wore her matching cotton pajama top and bottoms at this time of day, but was still quick on her tongue. Your making this up. I never really trusted you, and this, this is over the top. John maybe it would be best if Courtney stayed with us. Until you two are... Fletcher trailed off in his sentence unsure of what to say. He received a look from his wife, as if to tell him to not encourage John with the thought staying with Courtney. At this point, John was exhausted. He asked to stay the night, and with a wary voice Margret said, I suppose youll have to. John knew, as he heard the two returning back upstairs, that he was not going to get any sleep. Thankfully clothes that he had borrowed from almost a year ago were still in the guest
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room. He slipped into the pajamas and thought about how different his life could be. John looked back at the sighs of Courtneys behavior. One came to mind; She was always squishing bugs on the walls, that were never there... Wasnt she kidding around? He looked back even farther. Sometimes I guess I came home and her eyes were bloodshot; was it from staring the way she did tonight? He contemplated every action, motive and word from Courtney since they had met. All of the sudden it hit him. He leaped out of bed and ran to the computer. Signs of mental disorders. Social withdrawal, personality change, hearing things, excessive staring, hallucinations. He leaned back into the chair, sighed and shut the computer. Schizophrenia. He knew Courtney was never coming back. The morning that followed was solemn. Although the sun was shining, today John had to face her, with the darkness of her demons surrounding her. John couldnt even say her name. He was depressed and scared of her all at the same time, like this woman was alien to him. He silently walked out of the house and drove home. Courtney awoke to the television still on. He eyes were bloodshot and her hands were cut. She saw the knifes that lay on the floor next to her. John? she was petrified she would hear the voices, coming back for her. He emerged from the kitchen to her relief. Somethings wrong with me, millions of thoughts are racing through my head, it hurts to think. She confessed everything to him. Please help me upstairs, I have a throbbing headache. Courtney's frail thin body felt safe in the mans hands as he brought her upstairs. As she turned around to look at him she saw her demon. The white eyes, the demented features, his presence was terrifying. She pushed the monster, but in return she fell back. She crawled away as the thing menacingly stood still, as if to give her a chance to get away. She went to the attic, where she then hid, hiding from the windows light. The demon followed arriving next to her in only a matter of seconds. He did not move, only sat there staring, ready to pounce at any moment. You can not get away from us. We are your walls, your shadow and we lurk in the corners that surround you. Courtney rose to her feet as if to stand up to the monstrous beast. It snatched her up by the ankles crushing them like toothpicks, it dragged her against the floors to the window where it smashed her head against the stained glass. Without hesitation, it then shoved her out the window, to the concrete surface below. As she fell three stories down to her end, she watched John disappear. ~Anonymous

~ Alexa Bonsey

Autobiography in Six Words Rocky-roaded, unrespected, glory-lit and slightly dramatic. ~Jamin Keene

I sit here waiting, Waiting on my own. And my body trembles, This reaction I thought I had outgrown. It comes down like a knife, Down like a knife. All it does is whip and lash, And cause more strife, As it comes down like a knife. The voices are raising, So I run and hide in my room. I hear the noises of glass, And I feel as though trapped in a tomb. It comes down like a knife, Down like a knife. All it does is whip and lash, And cause more strife, As it comes down like a knife. And now I've learned that it's not alright, With it coming down like a knife. No, it's not alright... To beat away your children's life. It comes down like a knife, Down like a knife. All it does is whip and lash, And cause more strife. As it comes down like a knife, I know its not alright. ~ Monica Phippen

Redemption in a Dream Excerpt

Chapter Two Amy woke to find herself in darkness, but her senses told her it was not just the night. It rolled beneath her body. Reaching out its fingers towards her. The terror came back. It rose up to choke her. Amy tried to stand up. She tried to move, but everything around her was darkness. As she looked around, she noticed a dim light slowly coming towards her. As it came closer she could make out a man. He was tall and pale. At first she attributed the light to his paleness, but then she noticed how it spread away from him. Lighting up the area where he walked. As he neared the light covered her. It was cold, as cold as deaths touch. Amy shivered, and looked up in fear at the man standing before her. Her terror mounted, and she struggled with her desire to flee. She couldnt flee, the darkness still held her. It trapped her. The man was smiling at her, but his smile was as cold as his light. Amy, The man's voice chilled her to the bone. Trapped again I see. The man sneered, his cobalt eyes flashed with malice. Tr-Trapped, Amy choked out. She felt as though her throat was being squeezed. Black and red dots rose into her vision. Youve always been trapped. Trapped by your foolish desires, and fairytales. Theres no prince to save you in this tale. The man chuckled. Amys anger rose, who did he think he was? Im not trapped! Amy said loudly, he voice pulsating with anger. It reverberated off the darkness repeating her words. Amys anger rose higher at her predicament. Even now you are imprisoning yourself more. Look at your chains. Amy looked down and saw what had prevented her from moving. Heavy shackles held her to the darkness. Her arms ached under their weight. Her anger was replaced with despair. She struggled to raise her arms, to free herself. A hot tear splashed onto her hand. The man laughed again. How foolish you are. None of your race can ever get free. Youve been bound since birth. Who are you? Amy heard her voice ask quietly. She could not fight. The darkness was pressing in. Crushing her spirit and sapping her strength. I am the god of this world. I control every one of you. I am Lucifer, and you my daughter are answerable to me. Me and no one else. You are Amy, the demon. Amy shivered again. His words slid into her mind like oil. Daughter, the way he said it made her sick. His last sentence cut her deeper. She was named after a demon. Amy, the 58th spirit and a President of Hell. Her mothers gift to her. I am no daughter of yours. Amy struggled to her feet. This was the man her mother worshiped. The man that she had taught Amy to worship. Amy knew deep inside that what he said was not true. The mans face contorted with anger. You wench, kneel down before me! Amy felt the darkness pushing her back down. It suffocated her, the terror rose inside her heart. The pain, she felt like she was on
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fire. A scream rose in her throat but it could not escape. Her mind became clouded. Slowly she started to sink to her knees. Amy heard herself cry out, Father help me! Suddenly the darkness lifted. Amy fell to the ground gasping for air. Her head began to clear, as she took in deep breaths. She is not yours. The ground was covered with a brilliant white light. It hurt Amys eyes but at the same time a feeling of peace swept over her. The voice was not Lucifers. It was softer, kinder, but it carried a great authority. It warmed Amys heart, filling her with strength. Leave her be. Amy heard footsteps coming towards her. A man kneeled down beside her. He was wearing a robe that shone brighter than the noonday sun. *Acts 26:13* Beloved. Amy caught a glimpse of love filled eyes and pierced hands before her vision swam and the black rose to greet her. ~ Amberosity Davis-Gott

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~ Angie Chisholm
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Remember Vividly I remember the red of the leaves the drop of rain sliding sliding down the window outside my bedroom the frigid air quickly frosting the clear glass until the drop was ice Vividly I remember the red of roses the teardrop sliding sliding down my cheek as I stood there the warm air quickly turning to ice between us until we could no longer see When I was a child I dreamed in color bright red of roses purples of sunsets blues of the summer sky reality precedes imagination the colors appear monotone as I stare blankly at the canvas ~ Amberosity Davis-Gott

My wife is old and crude She makes gross and unbearable food She gives off a smell That I imagine is worse than hell And shes only useful when shes in the mood ~ Marisa Prestinari
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To Wait Under cover wanting, needing. Emotion of the stormy sky, surfaced in a touch but buried in a kiss. Smile at a noise, though recoil at a sound. Hear the voice of reason ghting against the insane, hidden in a cage. Know the cage is broken. Feel the fear release in song, never understanding, just lled with bright noise. Waiting is of useless meanings, action is of donning consequence, understanding is unreachable yet always quested. Never ended, never found. ~ Maureen Grubb

~ Anonymous

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Shooting up on the bathroom oor Too many substances to name Reaching out- craving more, more, more Showing no sings of pain Studying your papa, digesting the wrath Right around the time you turned eight Swore youd never walk that path That shit should be nobodys fate Shooting up on the bathroom oor This is no longer just a game Shits becoming more like a chore Losing everything, got nothing to gain Lost control a while ago Barely got your hands on that GED Decided to kick back and watch the show Now you cant even feel when you bleed Shooting up on the bathroom oor Taking it easy with your friend Mary Jane Keep going back for another pour Living without a speck of shame Yeah you almost got married once Coulda had a beautiful life and some kids Now you might as well be wearing a dunce Living the life into which you slid Shooting up on the bathroom oor These chemicals are so vain Permanently branded deep into your core Takin whatever life they wanna claim Reecting on these past 22 years As you nish your nal line Raising your bottle for one last cheer Youve reached the end of your time Shooting up on the bathroom oor Too many substances to name Reaching out- craving more, more, more Showing no signs of pain ~Anonymous
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M I N G A N D T H R E E C O L O R F U L F E AT H E R S
Little Ming was a such a dawdler. He played with mud, took all his toys apart and always tried to kiss neighbors ve-year-old daughter. But he showed no interest in study. His father was worried about his future, so he told his boy: Look at that school, the one across street. Only the best kids in town can get in there. If you do all your homework correct, listen to your teacher and get one hundred in your test, you will become one of them. If you do so, I will get you whatever you want. So Ming worked very hard, and got into that famous middle school. Congratulations son, you did it! What do you want for your price? Whatever I want? Yes, whatever you want., my intelligent little man. I want three feathers in different colors. Wow boy, not a GameBox? I know some young kids scream to their parents for one and waste their time on it day and night. I know you are the special one. Well, as you want. The father kept his promise, went to nd three feathers in different colors and gave them to Ming. Ming smiled when he got them. In the rst year of Middle School, Ming still dawdled around. He took stray cats in classroom and put spiders in the looker of the cutest girl. Poor father got call from school again and again. Many times he got so angry that he almost beat Ming by his slipper, but the boy ran away really fast. Finally, his father was tired and anxious, he decide to try the old way:Come here boy, lets make a bargain. If you can pass the admission test of the best high school in province, I will get you whatever you want. So Ming dove into the ocean of books. After the big exam, the teacher gave Mings father a call again: Sir, your son get into the best private school in region. If he can keep his good work, I dare say he will be admitted into the top college of the country. You should be proud of him. The old man was ecstatic, he patted on Mings shoulder strongly: Well done, son! Youre the scholar in family now! So now is the moment. What do you want? Whatever I want? Yes, whatever you want. I want three feathers in different color. Mings father felt kind of strange for him asking for three colorful feathers again, but secretly he was comforted that Ming noticed he should save money for the best education. He went to nd three feathers in different colors and gave them to Ming. Ming gave his father a big smile like Walmart when he got them. The old man was comforted. The private high school was a boarding school. Mings father lost contact with Ming for a couple month, and then he heard from the neighbor girl the leader of the new Gothic metal band looked like his son. The old man went to the bar after work and tugged Mings ear back. I thought you are a big child now, he said with tears, But you did nothing as an intellectual student right now. How could you go to sing for drunk people when other kids are studying over night? How could you
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beat them in the college entrance exam! And how could your beat them in job market? How could you feed yourself? I am old and useless now, but I am still your father!he gasped a little bit, and he signed, Alright son, If you can get a good enough score for the best level college, you can ask me for a price, and after that, you are on your own. So Ming built a castle with test books and lived in it for three years. When the results of the paramount exam came, Mings name was on the top. Mings father laughed so loudly that he almost got a heart attack. He bought the best incense to the local temple and held a dinner in the biggest restaurant in his hometown. He showed Ming to all his old friends: Look at him! Look at this handsome young man! He is the champion of the country! And he is my son! After dinner, the father was totally drunk with a red face. Blessed, Oh, our family must be blessed!The old man smiled from ear to ear that one could see teeth on his face, I am so proud of you son! You can get whatever you want. Whatever I want? Yes! Even the stars in sky! I still want three feathers in different color. When Mings father calmed down, he went to nd the feather for Ming again. He tried to do it more special but it still easy and quick anyway. He gave the feathers to Ming, and Ming gave him back a smile ear to ear. In the shining best college, Ming did nothing but except bicycling around. One day, he got into a car accident, and was sent to the emergency room. His dad came, and doctor told him anytime could be Mings last second. The poor mans heart was broken. He cried like the end of the world: Dearest son, I will do anything you want, but please do not leave your old man alone. Whatever I want? Whatever, whatever you want. You can just take my priceless life with you! Are you sure? Yes, my son. The father was ready to die with his only child, his future and life. I want three feathers in different color. The old man stopped crying and ran to nd three colorful feathers. He gave them to Ming: Here are they son, one, two and three, different colors I promise, all natural. Will they save your life? Why do you always want three feathers? Ming answered:Because...because I.... And he died. ~ Ning Ye

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~ Zachary Johnson
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Dry Grass
I know you were once, Fresh with drops of dew Stretched in springs breeze, Had a dream of rainbow. Now you are dead and dry, like a old tailors rag. I see your desire of joy, Being walked on by a dog. So you provide me with a dream, After a whole winter grind. Let the sanity of your bloom, Sprout in mind. A paradise lost, led light of stars. Dawn swallowed twilight, Only sun witnesses. I guess life is wet, And hope is dry. I lie down without gravity, and a dream of sky.

~ Ning Ye

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A spider is a trained seductress With numerous ways of catching her prey She merely needs to wait for an opportunity A chance to spring one of her traps When she nally achieves success She will toy with her victim Showcasing the cruelty and patience she has acquired over the long years Once she loses interest She will not hesitate to destroy the unfortunate creature Take everything its got. Thankful she is not cursed with a conscience or feelings of remorse, the spider will return to the hunting grounds Condemned to be on the prowl for the rest of her days. !
~ Tom Reilly!

~ Caroline Homer

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Thirteen Ways of Looking At A Swim Meet: I. Sleek, stealthy, strong, graceful, bodies ying towards the nish The crowd waits, watches, anticipates, aches for the winner to win quiet erupts the large crowd, waiting for whatever the outcome may be. II. Suddenly the anticipating silence is over, moms and dads cheer for the longest racers dads are louder than moms dads voices competing themselves for their own swimmer to hear them. III. Sleek? Strong? Fast? Efcient? IV. two to race a race worth racing are one. the water, the swimmer, the coach are one. V. I have not an iota as to which is the winner one is the winner at the end some tie some struggle and are the best but just do not win. VI. Swimmers grip the water each a different handle or technique each with his own style each has what it takes to lose, or win VII. O why do I win or lose, is it me or is it my thoughts of fear of a loss? Do I have a choice to win or a choice to loose, or is it just fate? Will I swim to the title? VIII.
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I know what it takes now, people cheering me from the sidelines... the feeling of being sleek but I know not if I lose or win just what the feeling is now and here: success. IX. When I dove off the block with the power, I felt the world slide past me sliding into oblivion, where my fate lies. X. At the last second I breathe for air almost choking, almost dying. Even the creatures born of water would fear to choke or drown. XI. I swam for what felt like an eternity or thirty seconds. Once I felt that the water itself would swallow my entire soul whole. So I swam faster. XII. My body moves like silk through a gust of wind I must be winning. XII. It was all over in 31.6 seconds but it seemed to go on forever and my body recognized that fatigue. I sat on the bench, sifting through my victory of not winning.



~ Cece Andrews

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Dreamer Many times from dreams have you awoken Ready to tell the world your freshened tales Stories of magic, or worlds newly broken The things in which these dreams to you were spoken For you do dream my dear, and dream a lot, And each dream stays with you in waking times A wonder then, that all my dreams do not My dreams left me and showed no warning signs But you, my dreamer, do you dream of me? That I might live on through your sleeping thoughts Mine in wake and sleep I want you to be And dreams work better than any schemed plots So now, my dreamer, dreamer of all things ne Dream of me, so ever youll be mine ~Jacob Frankel

~Caroline Homer
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The edge of the world. A cliff. High above the spray.

A jagged array of gray piled up on a point of land. The ocean lay below a churning vehicle of chaos. The edge of the world s t r e t c h e d out to eternity

An endless sea

Waves rolling crashing tumbling Never quite catching up Headed towards the cliffs unforgiving grasp An ever changing cycle with the turning of the tides.

The sharp line of the horizon was an illusion. The edge of the world. ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ~ Maeve Weber

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~ Amberosity Davis-Gott

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Spring Fever Springs rst hot day came, a welcome sight, Class headed out side, to pursue the poets plight. Inspiration was in the air, all were eager to write Id be astute, and moving, or maybe contrite Suns rst rays did glint and gleam Of something nestled in the grass so green Wait... No. Not that! Yup. It was obscene, perfectly square, purple, and UNCLEAN! Oh Trojan head... youre ruining my view, Soiling my afternoon with the nasty images you construe Greedy teenage rumpus in the parking lot! Who knew? Now instead of nature my minds lled with, Oh. My god. Who?!
~ Anonymous

~ Amberosity Davis-Gott

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Dear Reader, The assignment was pet peeves. The answer is text language. Now, let it be known that I have no problem with the extended hahahahaha or even the occasional lol before hitting the send button. Really, I dont. Heck, Im all for saving 2 letters by substituting u for you. However, what really pets my peeves is when brb and ttyl enter the lunch table. And after school practice. And your voices. Im just as peeved about clichs, but people, theres a time and a place for everything. Seriously, since when did *$ become an acceptable replacement for Starbucks? Proponents of technology claim their inventions will integrate awlessly with human interactions, but is this really the end result they had in mind? So, to ease my ears of lolzzz and brb, I suggest we implement some ground rules. 1. Erase ROFL from your memory. Forever. Lets be honest here, a little one-to-one talk. No one actually rolls on the oor laughing at your jokes. Sorry to be brutally honest, but ROFL doesnt do justice to you. Or anything.. Tip: Laugh and smile (i.e. act normal). 2. Texting is Texting and Talking is Talking. Simple enough, right? 3. Fear ikr and hahaha bff are all you got in your tool belt? How about we compromise? I herby propose that only the elite texters can speak text lingo. Not to throw another clich into the re, but consider yourself the cream of the crop. Not sure you belong in the 1%? Here, take my self-deprecating test... 1) I 1-D-R HUD? English: I wonder how youre doing? Batting 1,000? I sure hope so, as that was just the warm up. Here, Ill increase the difculty. Decipher this smorgasbord of letters and numbers. 2) Person A: Hey dude, whats up? Person B: N2MJCHBU ;) Person A: Soooo.... English: Not too much just chilling, how about you?

This brings me to another key concept. Numbers and letter should never mix. Oh wait, there goes the math department. Lastly, note the winky face. I herby declare all winky faces banned. When a symbol can represent both hate and love (and a plethora of sexual innuendoes), things can get a tad confusing. For example, lets say you received these two text messages from two different people: Person A: Ill text you later ;) Person B: I never want to see you again ;) Confusing, right? So, to remove any and all doubts, lets say Adios, winky cara.

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Passing with ying colors? Heres the money ball. Consider it the question teachers ask at the end of class jeopardy worth 35,000 points. 3) NTIMM, but IJFAB English: Not that it matters much, but I just found a bug. Seriously? We have to abbreviate your bug ndings? Hopefully Ive opened you up to a whole new realm of words, grammatically correct phrases, and (unfortunately) clichs. ty 4 ur tyme, Anonymous And yes, all of these abbreviations are legit. ~ Max Mason

~ Amberosity Davis-Gott

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Jungle He enters to help, He enters to assist. Backpack draped over his left shoulder, Map in his right hand, compass in his left, He enters to help. Immersed in the jungle, No connections, No friends. Backstabbed by the monkey, Forgotten by the toucan, Attacked by the hyena. Echoes of the jungle ring loud. Cackles, shrieks, squawks. Squawks, shrieks, cackles. Threatened by the puma, Undermined by the ape, Disregarded by the leopard. Sabotaged by the jungle. -Anonymous

I LOVE EDDIES BOAT by Lourdes Millay

Eddie is the captain of his boat. His Boat is the Starsh Enterprise. Eddie keeps his boat in the water in Bar Harbor. Eddies wife, Edna, talks on the boat. I went to Eddies boat 4 times! I will go again on Eddies boat on Wednesday, May 23rd. Were leaving at 9:30 in the morning. I like it on his boat because I like the Starsh Enterprise. I love sea creatures. I like crab and starsh and sea cucumber. Eddie kisses the sea cucumber. Eddie puts on his diving suit and then he goes underwater. I can see him on the TV screen on the boat. I see Mini Ed and Mini Ed is underwater. Edna is Captain Evil and Captain Evil talks about water and tells Eddie where the crabs and starsh and lobsters are. The crab runs away from Eddie. Eddie catches the crab. The crab grabs Eddies goggles. Eddie puts the crab in the net. Edna
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tells Eddie about the starsh and the sea cucumber. Eddie puts the sea cucumber and the starsh in the net. Then, all the kids pull Eddie up onto the boat. Eddie makes his diving suit fat. Eddie takes his suit off. He gets out the starsh and puts it on his head. All the kids laugh. Sometimes I laugh. Eddie kisses the sea cucumber and the crab too. He makes the sea cucumber squirt. Then he puts starsh and crab, sea cucumber and lobster back in the water. He throws them off the boat. I like Eddie because he kisses my head. Eddie loves me. He takes me on his boat ride. He is nice to me. He talks to me. I like to talk to Eddie. He is a nice guy. He makes me laugh. He makes me happy because hes happy to see me. He gives me a hug and shakes my hand. He dances with me and he is silly with me. Thank you for Eddies boat.

~ Mandy Tracey

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Nostalgia Nostalgia chills like ice. It forms. Slowly. After the heat fades away. Ice covers the exposed surfaces, freezing vulnerable parts. Dangerous, walking on ice, never knowing what happens in the fall. Fall back into old habits. Warmer than I remember, but thats the cruelty of nostalgia. Memories warm reality. Remember false awlessness of summer Sometimes summer heat burns too hot He needs to step out for air. Ice numbs wounds masking the pain. Nostalgia chills like ice. ~Anonymous

Haiku Bears bumble from hibernation-walking on egg shells friends reconcile ~Anonymous

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My Loving Family - 5.11.12 I love my family. I love them so much. And I sometimes hang out with them. I remembered I went to Arizona for Christmas. I saw my nephew. His name is Luke Edward Ortiz. I saw him. I saw my brother George. He likes to bother me and mess with me but I let him do that to me, and I also saw my sister-in-law Ann Ortiz. I went to their new house and my baby nephew likes to slide. I slid him on my body and he drooled on me. The drool was so gross. But I love my nephew. He likes trucks. I didnt know he liked trucks but I know that right now. I went to a cemetery. I saw where my cousin Heather Elizabeth Clinton died. I had a small meltdown. I cried really quietly, well I dont cry loud. But I take control of my crying and look at the bright side. Big girls dont cry, but we usually do. ~ Pauline Garcia
Haikus Sun sweetly shining On the black hard pavement, My sister skins her knee Red, Brown, Yellow, Green Are the colors on the trees School has just begun Gracefully falling Snowy winter wonderland, Snowakes dropping down Green leaves on the trees, Everyone turn your clocks up! Warm air, Spring has sprung!
~ Anonymous

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War is a Waterfall War is a waterfall Scaring the minds of the young and old forever daring to be bold It pours down the hill leaving nothing in it's path much more water than a warm hot bath The people never forget the sight they see or how they felt when their loved ones ee The war goes on As it seems like forever Women, children and men When will we forget? Never The end result is always the same when the rain lets up, and the people are gone The rest hang their heads, in a lifetime of shame. ! ~ Anonymous

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Shes Leaving, I Miss Her Shes leaving far away she wont come back. I miss her and I love her. She is leaving, far away and she wont come back. Bye bye, take care. Bye bye, take care. Bye bye, take care of her for me. Shes leaving, but she will be back. I cant wait. I cant stand a second without her being by my side because I miss her. I love her and I miss her when she is gone, but she is not too far. I love her and I miss her! Shes back now and Im glad. Im glad she has returned because I missed her! I think of her every minute of the day. Even at night I dream of her, I sing about her, I listen to music that reminds me of her! I love her so much that I cant stand a day without her. When she is gone I seem like a lost puppy looking for her. I miss her and I love her. She is in my heart, she is in my mind. She is so close as if I can hold her in my arms. I love her like no one else before. She is the highlight of my day, the highlight of my dreams. She is the key of my life, the key of my dreams, the key to my heart, the key to my happiness. ~ Anonymous

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~ Alexa Bonsey

dancers leap across the moonlit stage, windy air twirls seeds
~ Anonymous

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