Imprint spring 2014

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description

The literary and artistic collaborative journey of Combs High School students in San Tan Valley continues...

Transcript of Imprint spring 2014

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Poetry Fiction Art Acknowledgements

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My Terrible Poem ELIAS TAFESSE - 2014

“I hate him,” the little girl said.

“I hope and pray that he drops dead.

I hate the way his lips smack when he talks.

I hate his feet stomping as he walks.”

“Then why talk to him?” asked her mom.

“Why let him stick around for this long?

If everything he does makes you mad

Get rid of him- you’ll be glad.”

“Because of the way he smiles at me,” said the girl.

“It makes my heart skip a beat and my mind whirl.

I can’t stop thinking about his big brown eyes.

I love him. He doesn’t even have to try.”

SUMMER VS WINTER

DESTINY ANNIS - 2014

In the morning when the sun Rises, kids come out with joy.

They come and run. A girl and a young boy,

The sun beams on her tanned skin. Young ones swimming

Like fish with one fin.

The sun disappears and sleeps. Cold air rushing in from outside,

We bundle up with a bunch of sheets. All the layers make us look wide.

Snowflakes falling on our rosy cheeks, Making us stay in for several weeks.

Morning Vs Night

Lasha Wilson - 2014

The sun rising, Lighting the blue sky, Waking the sleeping, Beginning a new day.

The moon lighting the dark sky,

Saying goodnight. Sleeping in bed tucked tight

The events of the day now at rest.

SUCCESS VS FAILURE Ana Galindo - 2014

Just do it, Work hard.

You threw a fit And didn’t even try. You met your goals, Then set new ones.

You didn’t listen to your soul. In the laws of life, you failed the test

You kept trying- And now you’re a success

THINKING VS ACTING Macie Deela-Causey - 2014

All ideas begin with thinking. Ideas mean nothing until you act upon them, A figment of the mind. Your actions speak louder than words. A small thought sprouting in the mind Begins to develop at the touch of a hand- A new invention, simply starts with you- Becoming reality when actions are real.

Heart Vs Mind Hailey Wilt - 2014

Your heart cares It loves It holds on It remembers Your brain shuts out It covers up It lets go It thinks Your heart is trouble It causes confusion It makes you cry It gives you butterflies Your brain focuses It puts up a wall It keeps you together It pushes you to your next step

Him & Her Monica Koster - 2014

Clothes, makeup, hair. Pretty, proper, perfect. She can run the world Watch her while she works it. Protein shakes, and football. Muscles, manners, Mustangs. He’s the strongest one. He doesn’t worry about a thing.

CREEPER STATUS

ARYANNA HUFFMAN - 2016

He’s so amazing His brightness and colorful personality Are things that make me swoon I wish he would notice me. Can’t he see?

I have a creepy stalker She says she loves me- What a weirdo. I think I’ll hide from her. There’s no love here.

PURSUIT

KELVIN TAYLOR - 2016

Obsessed With the pursuit of victory Possessed With the stress of worry

My best Should be enough Depressed When the going gets rough

My mind Believes it can be done My heart Says I have already won

More and more My internal battle rages This war Keeps writing new pages

Country Folk

Andrew Foote - 2014

Country Folk Love the outdoors Idea of fun is being in the woods Hunt to put food on the table Down to earth; raised to respect all people There are two types of people in this world: Those who judge others and aren’t very respectful, Who rely on others and big corporations for food, And who would rather go to the movies than a bonfire Afraid to get dirty City slickers

A Morning Thought

Sierra Heath - 2015

We are born with the capability to see (granted we see upside down for the first few weeks) and we make noise and then eventually speak, yet we never truly see nor speak. Our eyes are shut to a world of wonder, beauty, and pain until we feel, experience, and learn. We can see anything from the colors of the rainbow to the slightest flicker of self-odium in one’s eyes. Sight is beautiful and sight is ugly. We can either accept the world around us, or create a fantasy. It’s entirely the choice of the beholder whether it’s conscious or subconscious. The ability to really see and truly visualize is riveting, but how do we speak? How do we compute and communicate what we say to others without stepping on toes? Words will fall out of our mouths and we think we are saying the right thing, but it’s wrong. It’s wrong and we are unsure how to fix it. We begin thinking before speaking, trying to decide if we should say something, or keep it to ourselves for fear of making somebody angry or hurting someone. We begin to learn that words can save us or scathe us; cut like a razor blade, leaving a scar, or heal like when we would fall off our bikes and mom would kiss it better. These gifts are curses and these curses are gifts. No one will ever master them, but sight and voice are the tools needed to create and destroy. Just never clench your eyes and bite your tongue so long that you hurt yourself and become somebody you’re not.

The Other Side of Me JACQUELINE MADERA - 2015

I am not the girl you see I’m not the girl I used to be

She was the saint, I’ve become the sinner Say what you want, only one could be the winner

I’ve learned my lesson, what’s past is past And from what I’ve learned, nice girls finish last

Although in body, inexplicably intertwined We’re separate beings, when it comes to thoughts of mind

I look in the mirror, what I see is quite atrocious Two souls within a body, one good and one ferocious

The girl within me, once sweet and effervescent Now trapped in the depths of my soul, she finds it unpleasant

I’ve locked her away in the most obscure pit Only hatred and evil inhabit it

She fought inside me, fixed in her ways She wandered inside for days and days

I don’t see why, she’s had her chance I was once demure, but I’ve widened my stance

In the darkness, evil is made Not in the light, but in the shade

At one time, she’d locked me in her cage Though I’d watched from the sidelines, her failure set me in a rage

When she had the ball, she gave it her all But the times were rare when she didn’t fall

She was the nicest girl you’d ever meet But with sticks and stones the people would greet

I saw her crumble, but no one else cared The way she was treated was anything but fair

Watching her pain was driving me insane I felt it was time for me to take reign

She was sweet as honey, perhaps too kind If I was to take over, I’d bear that in mind

When I wanted to be mean, I’d always held back There’s no reason to now; it’s time to attack

Now too low to argue, She scrambled without a fight Our enemy should be scared, revenge is ready to bite

The Battle of L.A. Jacqueline Madera - 2015

There are two sides to their fight The East and the West This fight would distinguish The good from the best The war lead by Martha Fought for glory and reign But whenever they’d strike The East felt no pain The East side was lead By a woman named Coco When she fought for her people Her people went loco The conflict began When a member was shot They all held a grudge Neither ever forgot The two girls were sisters From a foster home They were always together And never alone They started a gang On the streets of L.A. They killed many people And stole cars all day

The conflict began When Coco was shot

She was tired of killing It needed to stop

She left to Chicago To have a new life

But to Martha it felt like She’d been stabbed with a knife

But Coco was happy

Her new gang was great They fought to help the people

Not to fill them with hate

Martha wanted revenge She still felt betrayed She wanted to fight She wanted her way

The battle would soon

Take place on the street In front of the home

Where the two did meet

Coco didn’t want to fight But Martha wouldn’t give in So the battle between them

Would have to begin

The gunshots were heard For mile around

They were fighting and fighting Till there wasn’t a sound

The two girls were left All the rest were dead The leaders of nothing Stood in a pool of red

Martha thought it was the end

But it was only the start Coco grabbed her by the scalp

And she tore her apart

She was tired of playing This wasn’t a game

The look in her eyes Would never be the same

With blood on her hands,

She thought, ‘What have I done?’ Her childhood friend

Killed with her gun

She was all alone now Neither side was deemed bigger

She put the gun to her temple And she pulled the trigger

Love Can’t Be Described KATELYN HANIOTES - 2016

Drifting is the only feeling there is. A never ending sense of unknowingness and asking questions left and right, becoming a three year old once again. There is always one question: What is love? Is it ‘Baby don’t hurt me no more?’ Or is it that deep passion that comes from the soul, for another? Our lives are the journey into answering this question. In order to do so, we have to get out there, we have to break the chains holding us back. There will be pain, tears, and betrayal at some point. But in the end, there will be love, and isn’t this what we want? It takes great courage to be committed in a relationship. Giving your all to one person, probably entrusting your life to them. Another question is: Is it worth it? Do I really want to go through having my heart broken into pieces only to take time for it to heal by true love later on? I think it is, because that’s how the journey is supposed to be played out. Love is an emotion that can cause other emotions to occur, like anger, sadness, happiness and a thirst for more. Love comes with a warning label that most choose to ignore. Caution: Love is capable of causing anger, sadness and hatred toward ourselves or to a supposed loved one. So I might as well get to the point and say that love is not a definite thing and can’t easily be described. Love is based on how you feel and how you view the world. Based on experience, some could say love is amazing and fills you with a warm feeling and others could view it as something of a waste of time. But it is what you make it, so you better make it big, because the journey doesn’t last forever.

Punk and Emo Chris Blank, Class of 2014

Punk is music. It makes you Want to lose it. Enter the mosh pit, You'll come out with Bruises. It's mean. It's angry. No job? It's lazy. Punk is everything That makes me crazy.

Emo is music. It makes you Want to lose it. If you listen For hours it's Because you choose it. It's deep. It's sad. It's lost. (What its hec) Emo is everything That makes me feel (sad/bad)

Love vs. Hate

Love is broken the way you are, Hate fuels you like an unforgotten scar. Love said goodbye, farewell, this is the end, Hate took its place in you once again. You saw it in her eyes all along, But you can’t see anything now that she’s gone. She used to love you as much as you loved her. Hate took over and left you beat, battered, and bloodied on the floor. You look in the mirror, you’d rather it be broken To resemble yourself, heart stolen But, time goes by and heals all wounds. No more hate, no more love for you.

PJ Chavira 2014

Symbol of Love Ayana Caines - 2014

A black girl and a white girl

come together in a field. Brown eyes travel along pale skin

And blue eyes travel along dark skin. They raise both their arms to find

that their hands fit together Like perfect puzzle pieces.

They’re spinning now,

Kicking up their flouncy spring dresses And warming their faces with the sun

They spin so quickly that soon There is no evidence of two people.

The black girl and the white girl blur into one thing: A symbol of pure love.

Love is feeling complete. Hate is not knowing what to do When everything seems wrong. Love is after all those years you Still get butterflies. Hate is how happy they make You. Love is smiling at the thought of them Hate is not understanding why I do certain Things.

Love is knowing you’re the reason behind That smile. Hate is letting them down. Love is doing anything for that one. Person. Hate is being ungrateful for what you have. Love, is knowing what you love is not Special. Hate is well known. Love is rare.

Love and Hate Elizabeth Berenul - 2014

Everyone is seeing pink.

I see black.

They walk toward light.

I step back.

They say it’s warm.

I say it’s cold.

Everyone else sees one.

I see none. Tell me,

Everyone,

Is it really pink?

Is it really light?

Is it really warm?

Are they the one?

How can you know?

You’re only ten.

How can you know? Emily Butts

2016

We all move in opposite directions. Trying to reach the same fate

All the people, the beeping of horns, It all mixes together.

We all fight to get some air We’re all trapped in the life of an

Office. The sound of slamming cabinets

Is all we know.

Poem on Picture Madison Neal - 2015

Grudge

Christian Collom - 2014

A grudge. It will provoke so much emotion within you. It's a sharp spark that ignites an ember That will turn into a roaring flame full of hate, All within you. How does it feel to have all negative and no positive Flow through your veins every second of every day, Knowing that you are too stubborn to fix it? Thinking about the subject turns your blood into a boiling Brackish pot of stew. It is time to forgive, But don't forget, For you need to remember the pain you went through Day after day after day.

EVERLASTING LOVE

DANIEL REZA – 2016

You say it would never happen I think differently

The world without you is nothing You change everything in a heartbeat

I can’t imagine you gone Stay here until the end

Is there anything you want That I can get

Like my everlasting love?

Water, the cool flow of liquid

That all life needs.

Fire, the burning heat

That suffocates all life.

Fire is drowned by the flood of water,

Water is evaporated by the burst of flames.

Water, leaves green and prosperity.

Fire, leaves black and despair.

Fire clears the path that the water filled.

Fire and Water Justin Acuña - 2014

Belief in realistic points, Bibles to the weakest counterpoints.

Telling me what I want to hear, Burning me from ear to ear, Real has never been so fake. Manifestations of insecurities left in your face.

Lies are truths and truths are lies, Killing views of dreamy skies.

Truth Vs. Lie Mitchell Alertas - 2014

Let Me CYDNEE COLPAERT - 2015

Your face is like a gorgeous cloth of silk, Stretched and strained,

A square artificially displayed On a modeled shelf of what should be expressed, Too shrouded by lights and distracting backdrops

To truly show your flawless qualities.

Why can't you be wrinkled again? With each bump and crevice highlighted and accented

By glorious sun and nurturing shadow, Inviting me to examine every soft thread

You behold in your vibrant essence.

She keeps you locked up Like a caged beast

Fit for pretentious sight But unjustly hidden from the beautiful experiences

You are taunted with outside your lonely bars.

Come out with me. Let me find the key

To your happiness, your freedom. I will show you the wonders of loving another,

The beauty of having one to rely on, The small pleasures two can share in each other's arms.

Accept my key, accept my love

And I won't let you feel this way again, Strained and trapped,

Pressured by her ideals of a perfect love. We can make our own love

Based off of care and comfort. Let me lend a hand when needed most,

Or a heart when yours is fading. Let me cause your crinkled smile

And your bright, brilliant eyes. Let me be yours as I've let you be mine.

Light is only missed when the sun sets. The moon And the stars are out now, but the birds aren’t chirping yet. In the dark not a sound is heard and it feels like I’m the only one alive. My mind goes free and it feels as if I’ve finally been revived. The sun is rising now and the birds are chirping. The moon and the stars Are departing, but I’ll still be here waiting, searching.

When the Sun Sets Savannah Hines -2014

The Call

Mason Falstrom - 2015

What is it that makes us not want life? Is it the calling of more influential things? Is it the person themself? Why wouldn't you want to succeed? Is it the calling of life that makes us need it? Who is guiding you? What is guiding you? Think about it. Who do you want to be? Have you made mistakes? Have you been wronged? You can change this. Do not be down, angry, sad. Stand up and look forward. That's the calling of success. Carry on. Search endlessly until you're free. Success is the end of the sea.

STAR WARS VS STAR TREK

ELIAS DOSTER – 2014

Star Wars has light sabers and blasters Star Trek has phasers and alien chicks Luke may be a wuss at times But Vader is the boss Shatner is a ladies man But the Skywalkers melt hearts Star trek can’t decide on a series Star Wars is the ultimate belt holder Shatner may yell, “Khann!!” But Luke yells, “Ben!” Trekkies are lame While the wars are to blame For superiority over the nerds.

Never vs Always Keilani Washington -2014

Never try, always fail Never fly, always sail

Always good, never bad

Always could, never have

Skateboard vs Scooter

Joey Atchley -2014

Skateboarding is amazingly fun. Skateboarding takes a lot of gnarly falls. You have to go all out when skating. Skateboarding requires a lot of courage. You have to be a man to skate. Skateboarders create a special bond, A family. Skateboarding is a huge passion. A lot of people can name a pro skater, But can you give me a name for a pro-scooterer? Skateboarding is life.

Smiles BROOKLYN ELDER - 2014

He smiles and kisses her forehead, Laughs and holds her hand. He tells her she has the brightest eyes. He loves her. He calls to say goodnight, Then again to listen to her cry. He tells her it will be alright. He loves her. He kisses her arms, worries about her. He tells her she’s still beautiful. He doesn’t mention the fading light in her eyes. He loves her. He visits her in the hospital, Tells her stories to make her laugh. He lets her know she has a life to live. He loves her. He stands above the casket, He tells her how much he misses her. He tells her he’ll see her soon. He loves her.

Bright, hot, and life-giving Makes things bloom and grow Gives light and drives away dark Makes hope come alive Fear melts in its presence Kills when it has the chance Causes nightmares with fear Flowers die and hope shrivels Kids cry as darkness creeps in Night laughs as the day dies

Day and Night Connor Laliberte -2016

Life and Death Life and Death were walking along a dirt road. The two were looking at the wild flowers that were growing along the road. Death bent down to pick a lovely white flower, only for it to turn black and wilt away. Death frowned and turned to Life. "Why is it that everything I touch has to die?" Death asked Life. "Because it's in your nature. Everything has to die eventually." Life replied. Life took the dead flower from Death and the wilted and black flower suddenly un-wilted and turned back into its former self. It looked more beautiful than ever. Life frowned at this and asked Death a question.

Starlina Ramirez 2014

"Why is it that everything I touch has to come back from the dead?" "Because it's in your nature. With death, something has to be born in place." Death replied. The two gazed into each other's eyes, and then they looked away. They soon continued walking along the dirt road, not talking to one another. They didn't seem to realize that their walking had made the flowers on the right side of the road dead while, on the left side, the flowers were blooming. Death was on the right side while Life was on the left. There was no connection between the two at all.

White Clouds Haley Vail -2014

As the light from above opens, you see soft white clouds. A bright light comes from your right. His arms are open; his wings are bright like the sun. You know who he is, and just before you can speak he whispers “Love is the most powerful thing.” His arm extends to you; you grab his soft white hand. You can see him more clearly now. He has a white robe on with a yellow cord around his waist and his feet are buried in the clouds. You look into his blue eyes and then his face starts to melt. His blue eyes go into his skull. The white turns into gray. His skin melts and turns into sand. The clouds turn into rocks. ‘Bright like the sun’ turns to black, like a hole. The white wings turn to red. A face comes up, you can’t breathe. His eyes are as dark as his heart; black. His skin is red and has the feel of a snake’s. His feet are the feet of a goat. He has the horns of a ram, and he has no clothes on. It’s blurry because of the heat coming from below. He reaches out to grab you with his human hands. “Hate,” he yells “will rule the world.” You know who he is, yet you can’t speak from fear. He comes with arms wide open and a smile of greed. You grab his hand as the ground starts to shake. A hole opens up and while you are dangling, you look at him with desperation and he whispers “Trust no one.” You fall into a hole of death.

I hate it here. Well, no; that’s a lie. I hate how this place is so dark and dreary. I wish someday to change it, because I know it can be so much more. I know I can do so much more, but I am just one girl in a great thing of hopelessness. The town I live in is one so poor you probably wouldn’t even consider it a town. We have no water or electricity here. Actually, we have a well in the center of town, but that’s as good as it gets. Mama says this place used to be big, busy, and happy, like Seattle. Seattle isn’t too far from here- maybe thirty, forty miles or so. Sometimes I read in books (if I can get my hands on them) that the state of Washington is a gray place, that the constant color is because of the weather, but not here. Everyone just mopes around like zombies with a lost cause. When I say my usual “good mornings” or “good afternoons” or just greet the passersby with small talk, I see something in their eyes. It’s this sort of ball of light in their pupils. I’m not talking about potential, but this light I see in people shines so bright. I long to have that mysterious light in my eyes. The light is like a beacon of hope in some way, it’s reassuring and blissful. The light I see in others’ eyes somehow says “everything will be alright”. I can’t wait until the day I get to see that beautiful thing.

Water from the Well

Cheyenne Clint - 2015

Here I am, getting water from the well. I just keep lowering the bucket until I hear a splash. I never bother to look down the old thing; what’s there to see? My own reflection in a beat old well? As I am bringing the water back up, one of the middle aged ladies in town is running person to person asking about someone. “Where is she?” “Have you seen her?” “Can you tell me where to find her, please? She needs to see this! We’ve all been waiting for this.” Then she spotted me, and we both made eye contact. Her eyes shone with light, joy, they seemed to say “finally”. While on the other hand, I’m pretty sure I looked like a deer in headlights. “Oh baby, darling baby.” Her eyes began to water. I could see little flecks of light in her tears. She grabbed my hands with her free hand and put both her hands around my own. “Look dear.”

Water from the Well continued…

Cheyenne Clint - 2015

Water from the Well continued…

Cheyenne Clint - 2015

She then put a piece of shattered mirror in my hands. I don’t know where she got this from, they don’t have mirrors within miles of this place, and I’m not sure of its significance. I looked at her with my mouth slightly parted and ready to ask her what she was talking about, but before I could ask, she interrupted me. “No, look at your reflection.” I looked down. The green side, covered in dried old glue, was showing. I turned it over, and I swear I went blind for a second. I stumbled back, shocked by the brightness. I bumped my pail of water and it almost dropped down the well, but I reached in and caught it right before it dropped to the bottom. In the pail, I thought I saw the sun, but I looked again and only saw myself, radiating. I was the light, I was the hope I saw in everyone’s eyes. Now that I realize I am, I hope I can turn this place around- turn this town’s gloom into greatness.

The editors of IMPRINT magazine wish to thank a number of people without whom this issue could not exist: To begin, we would like to thank our Publicity Group that was in charge of getting the word out about the issue. A special thanks to our Senior Editor, Bronwyn Younger-Howard, for being put in charge halfway through and helping us finish strong. We would also like to thank the rest of the group including: Deputy Editor Daisy Denton, along with Charisa Bisbee, Alyssa Flanagan, McKayla Highstreet, Katie Hill, Marquis Hill, Whitney Homan, Marshall Loeper, and Brandon Pierce for helping create the first ever IMPRINT Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter accounts. Next, we would like to thank our Expressions Group in charge of helping publicize this magazine and of sorting through submissions. Again, we would like to give a special thanks to our Senior Editor, Makayla DeMoss for taking charge. We would also like to thank Deputy editor Morgan Galligan, and staff: Akira Hickey-Barnhard, Addison Cericola, Tré Daggett, George Shaeffer, and Wasyka Shover. Our Copy Group has the important job of making sure everything IMPRINT sends out is spelled correctly and grammatically correct. A special thanks to the Senior Editor, Hailey Buell, for always being there as soon as we needed her and for sending all of the extra emails to make sure everything got done. Thank you to the rest of the group including Deputy Editor Jessica Osborn and staff: Shane Bunnin, Brandon Cross, and Dustin Davila-Bojorquez.

Acknowledgements

Next, our Design Group was in charge of designing this issue top to bottom. We want to express our gratitude to Chris Combs for spending lots of time at home to help with the completion of this issue. More thanks are due to the rest of the design group including Deputy Editor Kristina Bucko, and staff Ryleigh Chapman, Emma Jacobson, and Lamanh Ngo. Last but certainly not least, we would like to thank the Production Group for taking charge and making this issue go as seamlessly as possible. Each person in production was in charge of another group to help make things work. Gigantic thanks to our editor-in-chief, Caitlyn Birchett, for being the head of this issue and making sure things got done. Next in line, we have our deputy editor-in-chief, Kamriana Brower. Thanks to Kamry for being the first one to jump in and help out. Kamry was also in charge of our Copy Group. In charge of Publicity, we have Madison Webb. In charge of Expressions was Jamie Larkin. Finally, in charge of Design we have Jacob Herrera. Madison, Jamie and Jake—you’re the best! The entire Creative Writing class would like to give the biggest thanks of all to Mrs. Burnquist who is in charge of our class and does everything in her power to help out with not only the class or this magazine but also each person individually. She makes each person in our Creative Writing class feel like a star and none of us could imagine even dreaming of creating this issue without her.

Acknowledgements continued…