Polaris - PBworks

PolarisStudent Literary Magazine of Valley Stream North High School

Spring 2011

Polaris Spring 20112

We all need an outletWhere we can free our mindsAnd let loose all our emotions

And let our imaginations run wild.Here you can write freelyAnd draw what you see.

You can be whoever you want to be.Whether it’s a vampire or a princess

Or a werewolf or a dragon.Or just a regular person

Doing extraordinary things.Just open yourself upAnd don’t be afraid

To say what you want to say.So put pen to paper

Or the paintbrush to the wallAnd let loose,

Don’t hold back anymore.

~Zakiya Jamal

Advisors: Mrs. Mansfield and Mrs. Hirsch

Contributing Writers

Olukemi AdebanjoChelsea Alexander-Taylor

Stephen AndreoChineme Aniagba

Eric BurkeRory CareyEmily Chen

Michelle DziedzicAtim Ekpe

Femi FagbemiMichael CabezasMelissa DeNucciFrankie DiNatale

Jaslyn FanNicolette Ferraro

Carlos FilipoSara Forman

Esmeralda GomezMalik Hosang-Walker

Zakiya JamalRahul Kaushal

Anthony LoffredoMario Lorne

Gina ManiscalcoMandy Maniscalc

Tara MeehanJonathan Nosowitz

Krista O’LearyAnointing Onuoha

Krishna PanditFaith Pappalardo

Kaitlin ParahayCarla Perez

Dorothy PierreKristen Ray

Michael SankyZain Shaikh

Saphia ShaffieThomas Steffens

Kaitlin SmithShanique Strodder

Brenna SweetSunita Toolsee

Brendan VergaraChristine Ye

StaffLuisa Nin

Zaara IrshadSamara FordZakiya Jamal

Victoria DelevaContributing Staff

Leilani GoodwinSrobi Goodwin

Ife DowoduNoah Griffith Staff Artist

Emily Leo

A very special thanks to:

Mr. Nafte and his AP Art students

Cover Art by Christine Bell

Polaris

from Google Images

Polaris Spring 2011 3

NatureGlowing Currents

by Carla Perez

Anxious chills running down my spine as they pushed my kayak of the smooth beach sand. Small currents rocked me gently, as I began to stroke the water with my paddle still gaining my balance in the shallow beach water. I stared into the bright bold moon which looked bigger than ever, which was watching over us carefully. The water was clear, even with barely any light the water looked more like

liquid glass, instead of ocean water. The air was light and a warm breeze carried my hair. I have never been fond of the dark and as I gazed into the black canal, which we were to enter, a shock of fear rose in me, but it was pushed aside when excitement took its place. It was finally time to go; at first I could not control my kayak as I almost steered into a nearby boat creating sudden chaos. As soon as I got my kayak steady we were on our way. Entering the enormous mouth of the canal, bugs and insects awakened from their days sleep new sounds and sights startled me. There was buzzing in my ear, splashing water, rustling trees and voices of the people who were in their kayaks ahead. In between every stroke of my paddle I had to stop and begin swatting at the insects that were pestering me and all the people in my group. It was hard to navigate through the entwined trees and vines. Every once in a while gleaming streaks of light would shine through the trees. It took about 30 minutes to get to the end of the canal, pain stinging my arms as I paddled against the current, but we finally got

there. I could see the huge bright moon again and fresh air filled my clogged lungs and whipped away all signs of pain, I sat there waiting , still amazed at what I had accomplished and at all the hard work. As I got off the shaking kayak and entered the warm water, there was no reaction, but with one strong movement of my arm the water surrounding my hand illuminated a bright yellow. Others splashed their paddles and swift currents glowed intensely within the pitch black water. This will be a memory

that I will carry with me in my heart for the rest of my life and so will the glowing currents.


Solitudeby Jaslyn Fan

Lappinggentlyatthebeach,thewavesrecedefromthesandyshore,erasingthefootprintsleftbehindbytheseagullssearchingforoysters,thechildrenracingtheebbandflowoftheocean,theloversstrollinghand-in-hand.Thesunsetsbeautifully;thepink-tintedcloudsareinterwovenstrandsofgossamer,alightagainstthemagnificentorangeglowofthesky.Thefaintoutlineofthemoonfadesintosight. Thesunslowlysinks,behindthehazyboundarybetweenskyandsea;fadingintodarknessaretheabandonedsandcastles,blankets,andfoldingchairs.Ahalf-eatenpicnicdinner:platesofsandwichesandbowlsoffruitsalad,plasticcupsoflemonade,leftspreaduponaclassicred-checkeredtablecloth.Atiltedbeachumbrella,falselybrightintheever-growingmonotoneofthebackground.Theshadowofthevacatedlifeguard’s chair on a mountain of sand. Thelevelofnoisefadestonothingasthelaststragglersgatheruptheirbelongings,bikethelastmileontheboardwalk,leavebehindthesoftsands,believingtheirbeautytodisappearwiththelastraysofsun.Gently,thewatercomesin,goesout,softlycaressingtheedgeoftheshore,theblurryareawheresolidlandgives way to mysterious and unpredictable ocean. It is the only sound besides the quiet breathing of two people, the only ones to stay when the sun trades places with the moon, in their graceful, methodic dance acrossthesky.Asthestreetlightsareextinguishedonebyone,thesandsarelitbytheever-brighteningorbsoflightinthedark,cobaltsky. Constellationsslowlyappear,composedofaninfinitenumberofbrightspheres,alldifferentsizes,ar-rangedasornaments,complementingtheetherealbeautyofthemoon.It’sfulltonight,perfectlyround,yetsurroundedbyimperfectpictures;connect-the-dotdrawingsofbearsandhunters,fallengodsandunrequit-edlovers.Undisturbedbytherestofmankind,twopeopleliedownbesideeachotherinquietcompanion-ship,alltroublesoftheworldforgotten,asleftbehindasthemulticoloredcloudsofthesunset.

A Day at the Beachby Krishna Pandit

WhenIwokeupIsawmymother’ssurpriseforfamily;itwastheBiggest,spaciousandbeau-tifulbeachIhadeverseen.Thebigbluewaveskeptwatchinginanddriftingbackoutagain.Alightcoolbreezeflewoverthebeachwiththesoundofseagullscallingtooneanotherinadistance.Itfeltassoftasakitten’sfurbrushingpastyourskin.Icouldsmellthearomaofsaltywaterandwetsand.Mymotherpointedoutthatthecloudsweregatheringtogetherandthatitmightrain.Beforelunchtherewasagorgeousandvibrantrainbowthatwastakingshape.Atfirstweonlysawtheblue,green,andpurple.Thenlikeshypuppiesmeetingastrangerapalered,orangeandyellowappeared.Thepalecolorsgetbrightertoevenupwiththeblue,greenandpurple.Bythenitwastimeforlunch.MymotherandIhadmadedeliciouseggsandwichesfortherestofthefamily.Afterfinishedlunchmysister,brotherandIwantedtoasandcastle.Bythetimewehadtheperfecttowerweheardandsawthethunderandlightningboltsflewoutoftheskyandintothewideocean.Whilethethunderandlightningboltsflewouttheskytheylookedassweetasainnocentchild,butwhentheycamedownonthebeachtheylookedasferociousasasnakethatwasabouttobiteyou.MydadfoundalocalrestaurantcalledTastyCrepes.Whenwereachedtheplacemydadtreatedustoadessert.MysisterandIorderedacrepefilledwiththestrawberriesandbananas.Andonthetopofthehotsoftandscrumptiouscrepewasabunchofpowderedsugarandswirlsofnutellaspread-ingthemselvesonthecrepe.Thesunwassettingandwasleavingbehindagoldenliningwhichwasspreadonthetopoftreesandhomes.Theviewwassobeautifulthatitmademethinkhatthatmo-mentwasamovingpicturethathadcometolife.Whenwegothomewewereallsotiredfromtheamazingdaythatwewenttosleepdreamingofthebeach.


The Summer of 2009by Zain Shaikh

Over the summer of 2009, I was on vacation with my family. I and my family had gone to Niagara Falls (by car). When I and my family got there, I heard sounds by the waterfall. When the water was falling and hitting the rocks “whoosh” “whoosh.” I saw water all over the place, water here water there, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Later in the day my family and I went down to the boardwalk section, where in that place you would be hit with water; falling from the waterfall I felt water in all outer sections of my body. Even when the employees had given my family and me a protective suit. I was unbelievably wet. I had such an amazing time I couldn’t believe that day.

My Unfortunate Summer Day by Eric Burke

One blazing hot summer day when I was eight years old, I was having a football catch with my brother in my backyard. I threw the football as hard as I could and my brother missed the catch. The ball launched in the air and went straight into a pile of firewood from the last winter. I reached my hand into the pile of wood to get my football back. As I put my hand into the firewood I felt an odd buzzing noise all around my hand inside the pile of wood. Before my very own eyes, it seemed like there were one thousand yellow jack bees bursting like an explosion or a gunshot right out of their hive. The bees in the hive were hidden amongst the firewood like a predator waiting to attack the first prey. The very first thing that came to my mind was to run. I had to run like a turkey a few days before Thanksgiving. They were even after my little brother but he got the message in advance. The bees got into my shirt so I took off my shirt and started to hit the bees. I had killed some of them so that helped me escape. I finally got to the stair steps and I fell as I was trying to run up. My brother helped me up and we got away safely. Both of us had bee stings all over especially me. My heart was beating 1000 miles per hour when I told my parents about what had happened we got the bee hive taken out. I will never forget this day my whole life.

Springby Kaitlyn Smith

Music in your ears.Mountains covered in snow meltWhile the waters rush.


I wish I was snowFall from the sky making

the first impressionGently hitting the ground without making a sound

Days pass Children play

I get pushed away to the side

Just sitting there

The Sun is beamingNothing is coming to greet

me anymoreNothing is coming to playNothing is coming to bask

in my beauty

Now I’m dirtyI’m alone

The Sun is beamingAnd now…I’m gone.

by Leilani Goodwin

Artist: Christine Bell

Journeyby Brenna Sweet

As I walkthe wind howls around me,the leaves crackle beneath my feet,creatures scurry back into their safe homes.The Past is a dim shadow following closely behind. The Future, a dark and winding trail,lit occasionally by the shimmering dreamor the speckle of naive hope.

As I walkmemories flood my mind,familiar thoughts replay on loop.I long for the comfort and security of previous routine,to begin my days again with a purposeand cleanse with a night of pure blackness.My Future exists within the stars,my Destiny wrestles with the moon. As I walkI am one with the trees,the flowers protect me from the unsure path,and the pebbles acclimate my feet to new ground.I tread hesitantly, but proudly,carrying only my mind laden with my integrity.The bees sing their encouragementand promise a worthwhile journey. I Run. I Fly. I Live.My path may be uncharted, but my faith rests in uncertainty.My future, unforeseeable, but my hope remains unwavering.I travel with assurance because even if the road

turns suddenly,winds in circles,

around mountains,under waters,

between rain drops,through dust, dirt, mud,

against the waves, wind, and current,I will always walk amongst the stars.I will always walk along my path with my Future, a gleaming guide,and my Past, a friendly companion.


Wanderingby Jaslyn Fan

Figuratively speaking, life is a maze of intertwining paths. Uncharted by signs, recognizable marks, or helpful beings. You never know what’s coming, what’s lying in wait for you around the next corner, what’s looming over your oblivious form. Yet you dutifully plod onward; blindly con-

tinue working toward a hazy, unpredictable future. I follow a path, one of an infinite number, but just barely; I keep wandering off course, into the dense, whirling, disorienting fog, getting distracted by peaceful clearings in the woods, superfi-cial periods of calm and relative happiness. Sometimes I linger, take in the scent of sweet flowers,

pick a few ripe berries, enjoy a brief reprieve from the convoluted maze of a lifespan. And then I’m pushed, by some omnipotent force, back onto the path that winds through. Or

maybe a different one; I have no way of knowing, really. In any case, the path continues on among the dark woods, under a cover of ominous trees, the sunlight that manages to fight its way through

the leaves barely acknowledging the shadows. The paths, uncaring of trivial pleasures like light, branch on indefinitely. Some lead off cliffs, some through murky swamps of uncertainty, all through an overbearing, oppressive cloud of ambiguity. Doubling back, circling around, stumbling upon. Of-fering no answers. One can only blindly follow the paths, pick and choose the next course, hopefully

not coming across anything too frightening, like the Beast of Reality. It stalks the forest, never intentionally seeking victims. It is a shape-shifter, appealing to

some, hideous to others. Always a shocking sight to behold, lurking behind a tree trunk, stealthily creeping up behind or to the side, looming overhead, intangible and invisible. For some, the Beast is met with a welcome greeting, as a kind awakening to the real world; the beholder is transported away from the woods, out of the thick fog, to the world outside, one clearly illuminated by the sun, as a newly enlightened being with a purpose in life. Some are not as lucky. They painstakingly

continue their trek through the muddled atmo-sphere, the complexity of an uncertain future. They find occasional respites, sporadic bouts of laugh-ter with companions, lose themselves in fantasti-cal worlds of magic. Yet every time, without fail, ephemeral periods of happiness are interrupted,

jaded people thrown back on course; back to wan-dering through an unhappy world, back to feelings of helplessness and hopelessness, back to stum-

bling upon the unknown.

Artist: Alexa Taormina

The sun goes down and Turns to night everything

goneIt will be alright.

by Louis Argueta


Saving My Brother’s Lifeby Dorothy Pierre

Short,adorable,two-yearoldandchoking.Mybabybrother,Christopherwasseated

cross-leggedonmyunmadebed,playingwithmypinkpiggybank.Isatthere,nexttohim,

focused on the TV. The new episode of the Degrassi was on and I wanted to see what drama,

Paige,theoverlydramaticteenagegirlcouldcause.Atthemoment,Christopherhadslippeda

quarterintohismouth.ThenextthingIknew,Christopherwaschoking.WhatdoIdo?Should

Icallmyparents?ShouldIcalla

doctor?Myeyeswereasbigas

goldfisheyes,myheartpounding

likethesoundofadrum.Isoon

remembered earlier that day, my

teacher,Mr.Pitts,taughtusthe

Heimlich maneuver. I rolled my

righthandintoafistandcoveredit

withmylefthand.Pushingintohis

stomach, I prayed the quarter would

comeout.Afterafewsecondsof

the Heimlich maneuver, the quarter

finallypoppedoutandmybrother

startedcryingfrantically.Relieved,I

grabbedhimandheldhimtight,as

close to my heart as possible. Not

wantingtolethimgo,notwanting

to lose him ever. I hugged him so

tight,hiseyeswerepractically

bugging out of his head. Then he

said,“Iloveyou,Do-tie.”Surprised,

yetglad,Ikissedhimsoftlyonhis

forehead and whispered, “I love you

too,honey.”

Love

Artist: Christine Bell


Inner Peaceby Thomas Steffens

Through the peaceful winds.The birds fly over my head.

I find inner peace.

Reconciliationby Samara Ford

To be in love is to never have to say “I’m sorry,”To know that the person will forgive you no matter what.

To forgive is to identify with the person who trespassed against you.To look back over your life, to every time you’ve fallen,

And to think about every hand that has helped you back up.To relive every moment that you wish you could erase,

And to think about those who disregard your shortcomings, and let you go on.

To forgive is to reach deep inside yourself,To look into your heart,

And to listen to your mindTo form a connection with that person,

And realize that they deserve a second chance.

photo by: Sebastian GiaquintoSubject: Kelly Dwyer


A Little Love Storyby Luisa Nin

When I arrived he was already there. I did not understand why he had called at this hour, I looked at my watch at 7:00 pm, but he was my friend, I should help him, he looked very sad.

- Hello Lanz, how are you?

- Hello, well, waiting for her......

-How long have you been here?

- Like an hour...

- Did she come? Have you seen her?

- Yes, I saw her walk over there - He pointed the place from where I had come

- You look bad. For how long do you intend to be this way?

- I’m not so bad, just a little sad, I don’t know…

- You will not believe it; you’re really bad, I know you. You’ve been in love with her for two years and you’ve decided not to tell her and you won’t let me do it.

-It’s just that I’m so afraid, I can’t tell her, and you can’t tell her either.

- But why? What do you have to lose!

- Her, I can lose her. If she doesn’t accept me, if she does not feel the same as me, I will ruin the friendship and I will lose her too.

-I don’t understand how you can think so Lanz! If you told me that she is a good and sweet girl, she’ll never seek to harm you. Maybe if she is not in love with you she will tell you in a kind way and she’ll find ways to make you not suffer and well ... if she is in love with you, you will be very happy ...

- Angela please! – He said a little annoyed

- Lanz, take a chance by God. If you do not try, if you never say it, you’ll never know if she feels the same or not.

- I think you’re right. I will try to tell her the next time I see her if my fear and shyness let me, the problem is I don’t know how to say it...

- Just be spontaneous, make it raise from the depths of your heart, tell her everything you feel! - I smiled

- But can I do a small test with you? - He smiled, with that beautiful smile of an angel that he has.

photo by: Sebastian Giaquintosubject: Filipe Ignacio Pereira-Brito


- Of course! - I said excitedly- remember, from the bottom of your heart...

- Well ... well.... you know.... for long time I have wanted to say something to you but I couldn’t. I was afraid, but I can no longer keep this secret, it is just too much already. I must say that I have liked you from the first moment I saw you, the sweetness and beauty that you were, you were able to capture the attention of my shy and sad heart, awakening and rekindling the light that had already turned off long ago. I took several days trying to tell you with details and actions that I had but you did not understand ... what I want to say is that I love you...

- Ahh! –he surprised me, I blushed and he smiled at me, and all that I wished was that all he had said he was saying to me, that it was me that he would like so, but that was impossible!- You were very good Lanz, you surprised me, wow!

- Amm ....- he doubted a bit - and I wonder if ... you would be my girlfriend? - I blushed at the same time that he did, I could not believe it.

- Are you going to ask her? ... Very brave!

- Not Angela, I’m asking you, - my heart was beating a mile a minute and my cheeks burned, I could not believe what I was hearing - you know, that girl that I told you so, with whom I dream every day, that girl that I’ve wanted to kiss for so long, to whom I wish to say I love you every day ..... Is you, you are the girl I love.

- What? Really? - My dreams were being fulfilled in front of my eyes and…

-Angela I love you ... I love you more than anything in this world; do you ... want to be my girlfriend?

- Yes I want to! You don’t know how much I love you or how long I’ve waited for this! - I said almost in tears of happiness and I jumped to hug him and finally my great desire was fulfilled, he kissed me.

A Little Love Story continued..........


self-portrait: David Lee

Frozen Friendship by Samara Ford

Good friends are like an ice cream,Cool and super sweet,

They’re perfect for the good times,In the sunshine,

When everything is great.But what about the bad times?

The breakup, loss, or depression?They’re with you through the heartache.

That hole in your life that frozen yogurt just won’t fillGood friends are like an ice cream,

And even if they melt,Don’t ever let them spill.

Artist: Tiandra Ray

A Flower blooming

Starting their new peaceful

Just so beautiful.

by Sunita Toolsee


You loved me for all the wrong reasons,

Good times with you came & went like the seasons.

You were so deceiving,

Honesty was all I asked,

But you couldn’t accomplish that simple task,

That’s why you put her first, and I was dead last.

You could say we moved too fast,

And even after I told you everything about my past,

I was still second best.

As she was high up on your pedestal,

Said you’d love me forever; well?

Forever isn’t always,

Sounds good when you’re hurt in the worst ways, though.

Try to let your feelings show,

Hoping that the love will grow,

Up & up, higher, higher.

You were the flame to my fire,

Things change and through the pain,

You learn the difference between reality & fantasy,

The tears they’ll stop gradually,

But the hurt remains mentally.

Forgive, but never forget,

Time heals all,

Heartache fades away,

But your imprint on my heart is something that’ll never be replaced.

by Shanique Strodderphotos by: Sebastian Giaquinto

subject: Taj Francis


There once was a Viking

his name was Dom

who was very calm

Until one day the Persians came

with their knives and decay

Dom was angry and so were thee

For all he saw was cowards of eve

He took out his weapon with no glee

When struck the rest had fled

He howled like a wolf in excitement

Until he a woman who made a enlightenment

Beautiful as can be

with her dress made of beads

He dropped his sword and came about

What is your name young sprout

Her response was don’t hurt me please

I have much to live for as you can see

He took her hand and said come with me

Off they went into the sea on a Viking boat made of trees

To fall in love

and to never come back with thee

All the Vikings stood there in shock

What had happened crated a block

For we were what stands before thee

There once was a Viking who was so calm

And a woman so beautiful whoever saw fell in three

But in the end they turned to despair

they were in danger of each other’s past

Which never lasts

Although he was a Viking he was only one

In minutes he could be done

Places to places they tried to avoid

Although they tried all they could

They were found and executed and so she could escape death

she still remembers her newly wed

And so lives the legend

of a Viking named Dom and a woman

who once were a tear

Of misfortune and faith

of how they lived and how love was only a dream

TheViking’sAffairs by Michael Cabezas

Artist: David Lee


by Jonathan Nosowitz

Forgiveness...

by Stephen Andreo


Artist: Julia Lebedeva

I cried a the thought of what you did to me,How you could see me in pain, so easily.

I called out for help, but no answer was found.Not the slightest whisper, not even a sound.

I asked myself will it always be this way.Will I hate you, want to kill you, until my death day?

Remembering you, always lead to a tear, The quiet soft sob of a girl filled with fear.

They always asked me, “Are you okay?’I thought to myself “what can I say?’

Do I tell them you destroyed me?Do I tell them you stole my glee?

The smile of forgiveness that was once upon my face,I laugh at it now, as it disappeared without a trace.

What is forgiveness anyway?Just an irrational feeling one can easily portray?

I really wish that was all it is,An easy “don’t worry about it, just a mistake of his?”

How do you forgive? I want to learn how,I want to move on if my body will allow.

Is it a simple action, just try to forget.Try to erase all memories, eliminate all fret.

But it is not as easy as one may think,Not a simple sentence written in black ink.

Forgiveness is not quick, it requires time,Much like a jigsaw puzzle or a mountain climb.

You must release all unrelenting pain,The kind that keeps one from staying sane.

Once my lesson was learned, there was one thing to do,Utter those three large words, I forgive you.

by Chelsea Alexander-Taylor


The detective thought one had a gun,Then came a result not on most after-

noons,Detective McDonald fell down

stunned,After being hurt by three gunshot

wounds.

And like that, McDonald had fallen.Like a brave and valiant Marine,

As the others were calling,To each other “Ten – Thirteen.”

Though paralyzed he was,That he could have died,

Forgiveness is what he says and does,And that moral went worldwide.

So if one who is shot,Can easily forgive his shooter,Let’s all be forgiving and not.

Be a moral “polluter.”

Luke 6:37 (This verse’s end),Shows the way we should be living,“Do not condemn, and you will not

be condemned,Forgive, and you will be forgiven.”

How should we bear,With our lives to live,

We should use it to care,To love and forgive

Forgiving may just appear,As a popular elective,

But that’s until one would hear,The story of a brave detective

Detective McDonald is devoted,To serving and helping others,

He’s compassionate, as one may have noted,

To children, fathers and mothers.

One day came a murder case,Suspected to be done by teens,

This is not the first he had to face,And helping is in his genes.

Many of his relatives work to make peace,Serving more than one can discern,

Much of the family works with the police,And his wife is the mayor of Malverne.

McDonald went to Central Park,A place that is mellow and serene,

He found three teenagers who made their mark,

One thirteen, one fourteen, one fifteen.

photo graciously borrowed from: Google Images

Why Forgive?by Michael Sanky


You can look those words up.You can use them in a sentence.But you won’t actually know,

The act or feeling of the essence.They’re more than simply words,

They hold a story within their sounds.Speaking of regret, courage, heart,

Letting go or being bound.Anger fills your soul,Hatred tires you out.

What comes of this is the opposite.Violence, hurt, screaming a shout.Forgiveness is like the color yellow,

Sweet. Bright. Shining down.Love is like discovering magic,

Powerful. Enticing. A golden crown.But it’s not what you receive from it,

It’s sharing, showing, shaping.To be able to love or to forgive,

Means something more than explaining.“I’m sorry,” or “You’re forgiven,”

Is like medicine the doctor can not prescribe.It’s guaranteed healing or curing,

It’s changing a life.

What Does it Mean to be Loving and Forgiving?by Krista O’Leary

photo by: Sebastian GiaquintoSubject: David Lee


by Brendan Vergara

by Anthony Loffredo



The little girl winced as her mother’s rage bore on,Her small body trembling as each furious blow hit its

mark.As the world around her turned black,

All she could think of was whatHad gone wrong, what did she lack?

The girl could see nothing,Staring into the eyes of an abyss.

Suddenly, a bright light came into viewAlong with a stubby lady with a big purple hat,

Singing “How do you do?

The poor girl, all she could do was not, “Young one fear not, for I am your fairy godmother

What is it that you would like?It came to be that the girl asked for peace and happi-

ness

Oh yes my dear, I do know somewherePeace reigns, and all is well.

A place where sisters hold each other close‘til there is nothing left between them.

A place where ridicule cannot be heard for everybody is too busy laughing to care.

No one hits,They would not even dare….

It is you: You are the tree of your contentment,As well as the lumber jack to your resentment.

So you see dear one, lifeIs not what it makes itself to be,

Love is forgiveness, forgiveness is loveAnd that little one is the key to your peace.

At that moment, the odd lady disappeared,And the girl felt herself going round

Until she no longer saw pitch black, but a room.With white bandages piled up in a mound

As she realized where she could be,She caught sight of her mother peeping.

And cried out “I forgive you ma”With her mother weeping.

So it was, the mother was sorry, And the girl was happy.

Not far away, a rustling could be heardAs a queer purple hat retreated all big and sappy.

Epiphanyby Atim Ekpe

Artist: Sebastian Giaquinto Subject: Taj Francis

Music by Mandy Maniscalco

Music screams your nameMusic is all around me

Music is here now.


Love and Forgivenessby Kristen Ray

What does it mean to love and forgive?To rise above?

To let go?To resist the shove?

Can you find it in a person?Can you feel it right away?

Is it easy to accomplish?Is it possible today?

Does anyone know the answer?Can anyone show me the way?

What if someone hurts you?What if they ruin your day?

If I know how to trust,Do I know how to forgive?If I can show my feelings,

Will I be able to live?

The answer lies within.......


The power to forgive is astonishing.It can cause sorrow, anxiety and depression to those unwilling to see what miracles it can

create.But it can also bring joy and happiness to those that have acquired this power.

This is the beauty ofthe 8th wonder.

“How can I forgive you for neglecting me?” questions Susie.“How can we forgive him for ending the life of an innocent person?” questions the public.

“How can we forgive them for tearing apart this country?” questions the government.All questions with no answers or intentions of using the 8th wonder.

Drip, drip, drip.The sound of rain brings about reminiscing.Memories of friendships that were broken.

Memories of lives torn apart.Memories of many dreams smashed.

Because no one was willing to suggestthe 8th wonder.

Some may ask, “What is the 8th wonder?’Some may ask, “What can it do?”

Some may ask, “How will it help this world:”But no one asks,

“How can I use it?” or “How many have used it?”Because no one can possibly know the power of the 8th wonder.

The Power of the 8th Wonderby Olukemi Adebanjo

Artist: Alexa Taormina


To forgive…Seems so abstract

It’s rarely ever doneBy those who live

Why?Why should we forgive?Those people who hurt us

Do they realize what they did?

They tore us apartTheir painful words

Cutting so deep, worse than knivesThose words will never be forgot

Why forgive?What about revenge?Forgiving is difficultEasier said than done

But we must forgiveTo truly move on

To be the better personTo be at peace

Maybe they don’t deserve itMaybe you’ll never forget,

Them and their awful fitWe’ll wish ‘us’ and ‘them’ never met

Still we should prove it to ourselvesWe can come out stronger

Fierce yet lovingWe will overcome the challenge

Forgive,But don’t forget

Keep your guard upBut don’t be afraid to open up.

Forgiveness

by Faith Pappalardo

Artist: Sebastian GiaquintoSubject: Mr. Nafte


photo by Sebastian Giaquinto

I am the forgiver.I wonder if people are like me,

I hear arguments and gunshots,I see the punches thrown around.

I want people to like the hurter,

I am the forgiver.

I pretend people don’t bother me,I believe they didn’t mean it,

I feel sorry for the person in pain,I cry for the both of us.

I am the forgiver.

I understand it’s hard to forgive,I dream for the day revenge and hate are gone,

I hope for the hour everyone forgives one another,

I am the forgiverby Melissa DiNucci


Hope

by Anointing Onuoha


Artist: David Lee

Fresh Startby Shanique Strodder

Fresh start, new things.They say things in life all have reason-ing.

From new flings, to the shiny things,To break-ups & makeups & wedding rings.

You design your destiny,Make it anyway you wanna be.

Start a new trend, make a new friend,Fall in love; you determine it in the end.Your bad days, they won’t last always,Cause forever is never, non-existent,Take control of it before you miss it!Keep ya head up, move forward,

Keep pushing, don’t stop, never slip backward.But this life things no joke,Ha-ha nope, nah, never

Take it a day at a time until things get better.Cause they will you’ll see,

Just remember,You determine your own destiny.


We are all a part of one whole.A very different work of art

A collage of the worldWith many different parts

The beauty of it allIs that we don’t appear to fit

togetherBut with a little love, and a little

glueWe can be peaceful with one

anotherEach piece has its significance

In its own individual wayWe may contribute a bit of color

or flairBut we all give to this displayAnd to fight or compete within

our workWill take away from it as a

wholeThe violence will tear the perfec-

tion apartTaking away from the ultimate

goalOf a peaceful and harmonious piece

That doesn’t have any fightingThat doesn’t contain any hate

That doesn’t persecute another’s beliefsBut knows to appreciate

The value in the tiniest thingsAnd how it can really make a piece of art

To respect all of this work equallyBut we realize from the start

We are all as different as can beAnd we all play an important role

We come together in our masterpieceWe are all a part of one whole.

Nonviolence: A Form of Artby Sara Foreman



Solid…Young…Strongby Chineme Aniagba

My dreams pertain to the arts, writing, drawing things that allow the flow of creativity to make my fingertips jittery.

But these dreams are solid foundations based on my talents, not wisps of air.

I can feel their strong hold on me like a newborn baby’s strong grip holding them with awe and determination not to let go.

Though solid, there are cracks that some want to cause wanting to leave me vulnerable, unstable. So what will I do then? I’ll add

spackle to those cracks and build myself up stronger than before. I don’t let my dreams elude me.

Something Spectacularby Samara Ford

Artist: Tiandra Ray


A Cure to be Discoveredby Kaitlin Paranhay

My dream, you seeIs for that cure,

A cure for that horrible illnessThen no suffering to endure.

It’s like an angry bee,Keeps stinging away,

And the pain, oh the pain,It grows every day.

If someone tells me,The words stop dreaming

I can just call them killers,Because they’re not believing.

Importance, importance.What importance does my dream hold?

So people can live longer lives.No more souls being sold.

My dream will live on,Forever and ever,

Until there’s a cure.I will never say never.

by Malik Hosang-Walker

from Google Images


Life ExperiencesThe Change

by Frankie DiNatale It was unique. A secret to the younger kids. No one could know but us. It was an amazing feeling that we had never felt until now. It was sort

of like winning the lottery. Before, in elementary school, I felt like a red apple among many other red apples. Now, I am starting the 7th grade. It was almost life-changing. When you walk in, you get a whiff of ammonia

and peroxide. Like a new pair of shoes. Everyone was taller, stronger, and smarter. At first it was strange, like living on a new planet. About two months later, we had made “new” friends, lost old friends and

life was back to normal. Now I am a red apple among grapes, bananas, pears, oranges and strawberries. It was “the change.”

Artist: David Lee


“Welcome to Delta Airlines, please take your seat and listen for further instructions. La bienvenida a Delta Airlines, por favor, tome asiento y espere instrucciones más”. I was going to Honduras with a junior high group from church. I was going to spend a month with them. The problem was that I didn’t know anyone. When I saw where I was sitting I felt like something punched my guts and my heart dropped. I was sitting next to this boy who thought only about himself. I heard many comments about him, many bad comments. He was in ninth grade, two years old than me. I took my seat and made myself comfortable. Then, after everyone on board was settled, there was another voice. I was too concentrated on where I was sitting so I barely heard what the flight attendant was saying. But, when I saw one of the flight attendants do-ing some motions and heard “In case of emergency” I snapped out of it and I listened to the attendant. While the flight attendant was speaking another attendant was showing us how to put on an air mask correctly. The voice stopped and the attendant returned. There was a last voice. It said, “Buckle your seatbelts.” There were butterflies in my stomach and I grabbed onto my blanket with all my might. Then, all I could hear were the blaring engines. For a split second I felt like there was no gravity. I was literally off of my seat. I took a huge breath in and slowly let it out. When I got calmer, I sat straight up till my back hurt. I was exhausted, but, I was thinking that if I fall asleep, I might move around. So, I stayed awake. I was getting drowsy and I kept closing my eyes then waking myself up with a jerk. I was too tired l couldn’t stay awake anymore. When I awoke, the guy next to me was eating. My stomach felt empty, I was starving! I didn’t want to ask for food because the flight attendants were collecting the finished food. I had woken up too late. Then I got my bag and I had candy for breakfast. I fell asleep once again after eating my sweets. This time when I woke up the boy next to me tapped me and said, “We’re here.” I woke up right away and packed my belongings. When we were about to exit, the boy turned to me and said, “Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, my name is Steven.” I smiled and felt relieved.

by Christine Ye

Artist: David Lee


My First NBA Basketball Gameby Rory Carey

The exhilarating thrill of my first NBA basketball game was a fun and special memory I experienced. It was energetic, loud, exciting,

colorful, and intense. It was so “big”! As we stepped into our seats, I felt the warm breath of thousands of people.

All the bright, flashing, colorful lights had the resemblance of the pinks, reds, yellows, blues, greens and what not of the northern

lights. The blinding glare, of the hardwood court, was almost as beautiful and fascinating as the trees it was made from. The glare

and effect of the court was almost that of a mirror. Being close enough to these skilled athletes, to hear their shrieks and yells, was

un-real. And hearing the chitter-chatter of bitter rivals going at it, like the Yankees and the Red Sox, was somewhat of a privilege.

The lip- smacking smell of the kettle made popcorn was amazing. The buttery, crunchy taste was everlasting. And the ginor-mous drinks, filled with the sweet fizzy substance, could satisfy so

many people! The eruption of cheers after the sugar sweet win was loud,

earsplitting, intense, and “Big”. Afterwards, adjusting to the silent train, almost as silent as the slumber of a newborn baby, was tiring. It made me as tired as a

bear hibernating for winter. Those were the sights, sounds, smells and feelings my first

experience of an NBA basketball game.

Perfect Passby Mario Lorne

It was a Tuesday fall eve-ning. The sky was burnt orange with a hint of dusk purple. You could smell the dirt in the air. Football practice had begun. It wasn’t pleasant. Our eight grade running back, Emmanuel Gatke couldn’t play because he didn’t at-tend school that day. Martino got tackled and he injured his back. I was the only running back left. The quarter back Eric Aumuller was handing me the ball every other play. I took it as an opportu-nity to get more reps, even though I didn’t need it. So, it was about the tenth play we ran. I believe it was called “Lexus Cloudy Choc-olate.” The tight end, Nick Cali would run behind the linemen and the QB would fake the handoff ad pass to me. It all went in slow motion. It was a perfect spiral pass, and it landed directly in my hands. I tucked it I like cradling a baby and took off. Now every-thing went in fast motion. I was about ten yards from Rory. The he hit a spine-tingling block that left the defender on the ground. I jumped over them and it was all slow motion again. When my feet landed on the ground I saw him. There was Jaffe. I started moving my feet like there was fire on the ground. I turned left, Jaffe fol-lowed. Then like lightning I cut left. Leaving Jaffe on the ground. Then I was home free. I could feel the white dust from the goal line

kick off my feet.

The Beautiful Aruba Morningby Tara MeehanAs my eyes, slowly opened to the sight of the fast,

spinning fan, I gently rose from my squishy, deep,

soft, soft, hotel room bed. I stepped on the plush

carpet as I approached my high, elegant balcony.

I rubbed my tired eyes that were asleep the whole

beautiful night and released my hands to reveal the

gorgeous natural ocean waves jumping like a hyper

child on the sand. I looked down and saw a wrinkled,

dark-colored iguana sunning himself on a large rock.

I then looked to the side and saw five vibrant, color-

ful, energetic, lizards prancing about the pebbles. My

loving mother approached me and stared at the clear,

detailed view. I then raced outside to the resort to begin the beach day ahead.


“Don’t wander around by yourself” said my mother. I should have listened. One minute I’m with my mom, the next thing I know I’m staring at a fuzzy belly. I knew I was lost. The place was full of excitement and noise. I started to panic. I was about to cry when I saw Mickey Mouse. He shook my

hand. His hand was so soft and so BIG!! I couldn’t believe my luck. I for-got about being lost because after Mickey Mouse, I saw Buzz Lightyear. He waved at me then turned the other way. I thought he didn’t like me because he turned around. I started to tug on his costume. He didn’t notice. I kicked

him. He still didn’t notice. I was tired so I turned around and saw Bugs Bun-ny. He picked me up and high fived me. It was amazing. I felt like I was in

heaven. I was hoping that I would meet more characters. That didn’t happen. I turned around and started to walk. While walking, I noticed someone smil-ing. I was my mom! I wasn’t lost after all. She was watching me the whole time. Even though I wasn’t lost, the lesson to be learned is don’t wander off

by yourself. Also, if you are wondering where I am, I am at Disneyland!

by Rahul Kaushal

Sailing the Seasby Nicolette Ferraro

I have been on many cruises but they all have a lot In common; the sights, dirty green water when you are beginning to sail away, then when you get to the islands with beautiful trees swaying in the nice cool breeze, the smells of the salt water in the air, and the sounds of the waves crashing up against the boat. Cruises are one of my favorite vacations because they are so relaxing and exciting. Every time I

am getting ready to board the ship, I feel a rush of excitement and I am so anxious that I just want to get on the ship and see everything at once! Each cruise ship has its own theme, like the cruise I recently just went on was themed with characters. When I first got to the dock where my ship was leaving from in New York City, I saw a huge white ship and big thick ropes that were holding the ship from sail-ing away. The lobby was purple, blue, and gold. It had glass elevators that were

sparkling like diamonds. It had a beautiful gold curvy staircase. Paintings of Cleopatra were on every elevator. They had “Frankenstein’s Lab” which was a

club on the ship that a variety of fun activities are held. A seven foot Frankenstein was displayed in the laboratory themed dance-floor. The pools were designed

beautifully. When I looked up from the pool the first thing I saw was a big curvy waterslide that was so much fun! I love going to the ports. I went to Turks and

Caicos, St. Thomas, and the Bahamas. The sand at the bottom of the ocean felt like powder and it had no shells which made the sand even softer. The water was as

crystal blue as bright blue eyes. It looked as if you were looking at the summer sky I broad daylight with no clouds. I love coming back to the room at night ad always

seeing animal made out of towels with chocolates on the beds. My family and I had such a great time, and our experiences always make us want to go back!

Artist: Emily Leo


Walking into JR. High……by Zainab Batool

My clock read 7:10, “why are we leaving so early?” we were on our way to school. I laid back and closed my eyes trying to relax. Instead a million questions were roaming inside of my head. Will

I be able to open my locker? Will I have a good impression of my teachers or will my teachers like me? “Zainab stop daydreaming!” my sister yelled. Afterwards I couldn’t help but smile and show that I was

relaxed, but from the inside I was bursting. Finally, my car was started, it felt like a million years just to get to school. As slowly as a turtle I got out of my car and started walking. I was trembling as hard as an

earthquake. I sucked in a deep breath with bravery and stepped inside the school. There was a tall man standing in the doorway checking everyone’s IDs. I started to rummage through my bag trying to find my ID but I couldn’t find it. I started to freak out, I searched for my sister but she was nowhere to be found. I heard one of my friends call me, I ran over to her to ask her if she had seen my ID and then she started

to search for her ID as well. Now, both of us were freaking out because without our Ids we couldn’t enter the school. Suddenly, my friend and I exchanged looks and started to giggle furiously and we

remembered that we never received our IDs because we we’re new kids in the school. I was so relieved and told the tall man that we didn’t have our IDs and the tall man turned out to be the

security guard. He let us go and our day began.

The Pianoby Gina Maniscalco

The piano, the most graceful and beautiful of all instruments, is one

of Gina’s many interests and talents. The sound, like the angels from heaven

singing in perfect harmony, makes her free of judgment. Her fingers, strong

and fierce on the keys, help her to believe in herself and to have confidence.

The feeling of music, that the ears can behold and cherish, makes the spirit

jump and the heart to love. The song helps you to imagine, and express feel-

ings that this particular song can produce in the mind. With her black and

purple floral dress, and black, toe-tappin’ sandals, she ended with a fierce

forte, with her fingers all white, and the audience clapping. Vociferous, joy-

ful, as loud as the song, with a spice of whew and whistling, they clapped, and

ended with a sweet, gigantic smile on her face.


Aloneby Emily Chen

I had a good childhood, I could go anywhere I wanted, I could have anything I wanted. My par-ents love me, although they don’t love each other. I don’t feel alone. I have my dear friends around me

and my parents take care of me. I’m lucky to have these genial friends in my life.

But I know a girl named Alice. She was a beautiful and lovely girl. She always had lots of surprising ideas, she loved dancing and painting. Alice moved everywhere like a butterfly flying in the garden with a beautiful long silk dress. But unfortunately, she was not a lucky girl like me. Her happiness disappeared

when she was eight, her life stuck in that time, no more dancing, no more painting, no longer laugh-ing. Alice’s mom died in a car accident. Her father remarried and left her with her aunt. Although they

were rich, her evil aunt used Alice’s beauty and her kind heart to force her to work. When other children played in the park, she just sat in the corner alone. She didn’t want to play with anyone, like a beauti-

ful butterfly lost its wings. Her friends called her to try to make her happy, but she didn’t call her friends back, and after a while, they stopped calling. She ate and slept and did her homework. She answered when someone asked her a direct question. Her aunt found a bunch of CDs broken in the trash; she wouldn’t be in the same room when the TV was on. All of the people who cared about her finally figured it out---she was avoiding everything that might remind her of her mom. She was empty. She can’t look on the

bright side, the black shadow in her mind seemed never go away.

She loved her mom, and missed her warm love. Every night she dreamed evil dreams, hot tears were trickling down her cold cheeks. Although her aunt and uncle gave her a nice house to live in and gave her things, though she didn’t really want many material things, she most of all wanted “love”. But

she never complained.

Ten years later, Alice tried to find out why everything was seemed hopeless and why she felt sadness. She felt no one was willing to listen to her; no one to give her a shoulder to cry on; no one gave her

what she really wanted, not the noble house, not those elegant clothes, just simple love. She went to the highest mountain and yelled loudly at the sky. Mr. Sky didn’t answer, just gave her a gust of wind, cruel wind blew on her cheek and made her shiver. She yelled to the streams, but they also yelled back to her, splashing freezing water on her face, like someone slapped on her face. Fishes jumped up out of the wa-ter and made faces at her. Alice brushed away the water, soothed the pain on her face and in her mind.

She felt alone.

Alice, a beautiful and a lovely girl, but our Father didn’t give her a beautiful life. Unfortunately, she died of cancer one year ago. Everyone felt grieved and sorry at the funeral. Of course, her aunt also

felt sad because she lost her “money maker”. But they also felt happy, because they all knew maybe lovely girl, who had a dark life, now went to a happy place. I hope she can reunite with her mom and

have a happiness in her life forever.


Loss/HeartbreakWhy do we fight

it’s out of my sight

Trying to discover the problem

Trying to get the solution

I don't know what's going on

secrets upon me

It's hurting me inside

What do you have to hide

If it’s nothing

Why don't you tell me

Why don't you trust me

I can't tell I can't see

Will you tell me please

or our love will cease

And that will hurt more than anything in the world

You don't understand what's going on in my head

You bring me happiness and cheerfulness

but now by keeping secrets you bring me sorrow and pain

You’re driving me insane

Nothing hurts as much as this pain I’m feeling

I can't concentrate I’m driving out of my lane

You say you don't want to lose me

it doesn’t seem that way by what you are doing

I've been truthful with you

How do you think I feel?

What if i did it to you?

What would you do in my shoes?

I know I love you

but can i trust you to be completely honest with me

A serious relationship is about being completely honest with one another

Do you really want a serious relationship?

by Carlos Filipo

Artist: Tiandra Ray


Back-stabbingby Leilani Goodwin

You made me a promise‘Til death do us part

But by listing the ways, I don’t know where to start

Our love is dead, this is do dreadThrough sickness and in health

But the sickness by myself I dealtThe health was ever so rare

Sanity in our relationship was never thereTo have and to hold

It seemed like a joke I was toldFor better or for worse

There were never good times; I swear it was a curse

You left at nightAnd I would cry in fright

Because I was scaredThat we truly were heavenly paired

Sleeping in another bedSomething that killed our love, dead

It may be hard to get over itBut you won’t be there in every little bit

Heartacheby Shanique Strodder

Who would’ve thought I’d meet you again?

Could’ve sworn we were enemies, but you tell me we’re friends.

The lies, they don’t come as a surprise,Cause it was expected with one look in

your eyes.Who thought one person could cry so

much?Tears that don’t stop, all I yearned for

was your touch.Lust, four letter word into deception,Blurred out image that I mistaken for

perfection.But you played the game well, Bravo!Silly me always fell for, “it’ll be better

tomorrow.”But you taught me something, through

the mind tricks,Never let someone too close, you might

lose em’ real quick.And as I reminisce, you were some of

my best times.But relationships, they cant always be

sunshine,There's rainclouds, and thunderstorms,

struggles and pain.But you learn from it, or it could drive

you insane.So cheers to you, I learned so much,

That you can never trust anyone, nope, no one but yourself.


by Shanique Strodder

Broken,Floatin’,

Drifting here; there.Emotionless; numb.

Heart colder than Russia in the middle of the winter.Remember when the fire was bright red?

Heard what I said?The fire BRIGHT red,

Once before, when we were whole; a unit, a team, a business.

Some say “in love” god was our witness.No one could’ve come between this,

But you traded your insecurities with my heart,

With no take-backs,Simple as that.

So I was left with the blame, in this game.While the waterfalls from my eyes flow

more each day,You were happier than ever, falling in love

again, in your own way.“Every good girl goes bad” is an understate-

ment.Cause me, I’m so far below, death is my neighbor.

Cause without a heart, you have no life.So I’ll fall apart, until all that’s left is my soul,

But what’s a soul without a feeling?So I’m numb, barely breathing.

Sooner than later, ill just be bones,While you’ll be gone, to live solo; alone.

But with my heart instead of yours,That keeps a beat like a metronome,

So guess you can say I’ll always live on …



Transition of Changeby Saphia Shaffie

The beginning; everything’s full of joy, happiness and fulfillment

Mom and Dad are together, and happier than everLove is in the air…

But love can’t last for so long

The Middle; where everything can changePeople come and go, even forget what love is

New arrives and old is lostEveryone changes, no steps forward just backwards

The End; everything’s differentLife, family, friends and even I amNo one cares and no one knows.

Does he even realize my feelings?

I miss Daddy, does he even know?He was gone, then came back for a blink of an eye

Try to make up what was left behindIt may be a little too late…

Artist: David Lee


Dejalo ir…by Luisa Nin

Estaba sentada, mirando hacia ningun lugar, sin nada que hacer, con la mente solo en su imagen, su fria y hermosa imagen. No podia pensar pues

empezaria de nuevo a llorar. Me habia alejado, me fui a aquella alejada y tibia playa que tanto visitabamos, donde nos conocimos y casi siempre

nos encontrabamos, para poder llorar en paz, para poder liberar mis sentimientos, para poder dejarlo ir. Recordar me hacia da~o y me aliviaba

tanto a la vez; ver sus fotos, nuestros videos, mi cara feliz y reluciente junto a la suya, como me hacia sentir triste y sola, principalmente sola. Miraba a mi izquierda y a mi derecha esperando verlo sentado, veia a la entrada una y otra vez esperando verlo llegar, aunque mi mente ya sabia que que jamas

llegaria mi Corazon dirigia mis ojos una y otra vez hacia el mismo lugar, esperando ver la misma figura que antes muchas veces habia entrado,

esperando ver aquella sonrisa que me hacia feliz, esperando ver aquellos ojos que antes solian sostenerme, aquellos ojos que ya se habian cerrado

para no abrirse jamas, aquellos ojos que ya se habian ido…

Let it go…by Luisa Nin

I was sitting, looking at nowhere, with nothing else to do but cry, with my mind only in is image, his cold and beautiful image. I couldn’t think or I would start shout-ing again. I went away; I went to that distant and warm beach that we used to visit,

where we met, so I could cry in peace, so I could free my sentiments, so I could let him go. Remembering hurts me and lightens me at the same time. Look at his pic-tures, our videos, and my happy and shinning face next to him, made me feel so sad and lonely, mainly lonely. I looked at my right and my left waiting to see him sitting there, I looked at the entrance again and again, waiting to see him arrive. Although

my mind knew that he would never come, my heart directed my eyes one and another time to the same place waiting for the same figure that so many times had

enter, to do it again, waiting to see that smile that made me happy, waiting to see those eyes that used to hold me, those eyes that had already close to not open ever

again, those eyes that had already left…


Miscommunication

by Shanique Strodder

Numb.

To any other feelings beside hate.

You left me in this state; of mind.

Where the love slowly declines.

& all that's left is time,

To try and rewind,

But the tape is broken.

No longer open; hearted.

Closed off, guard back where it started.

Guarded.

Harder.

Stronger.

Never to be taunted with again.

Never to be toyed with, thrown back and forth like α Frisbee,

Cause these emotions are real, they're in me,

Tattooed, permanent, like α stain you can't get rid of.

Something like α drug; that sucks the life out of you,

& leaves you hazy, in α daze, the emptiness, maybe it’s simply α

phase.

Heartbreak is α feeling you can't fake.

Eats you from the inside out,

& to the person on the outside looking in,

to them; it seems you're on cloud NINE.

"What's wrong?" I'm fine...”

Cause when reality is mistaken for fantasy,

only time will tell until you break, completely.

So cold,

Even Nevada feels like its freezing,

Could it be you're dreamin’?

You pray its only dreaming...


Come back to meby Luisa Nin

I’m so tired of being aloneI can’t keep living without your love

Being without you is killing me Please come back, come back to me

My brain knows that I’ll never see you again

But my heart refuses, he is going to love you till the end

I don’t know where you are, but there is where I want to be

I don’t care to be in hell if I have you there with me

When I remember me with youIt’s like a bullet passes me through

It’s so hard to think about youI need your love, I need the truth

Please explain to me why you left?Why you left me so alone?With a soul in little pieces

And a heart with no more beating

I’m trying everyday to liveBut without you it’s so hard to believe

Being without you is killing me Please come back, come back to me

Good Thing by Zakiya Jamal

You took my heartAnd smashed it

You ruined a good thing.You have me feeling guilty insideWhen you’re the one who hurt me.

I feel like I’ve become someone else,It was you who changed me.

Every time I feel like I’mBecoming myself again

The hurt you caused engulfs me.Everywhere I turn you’re there.

So many lost memories.Everything we ever didIs like an annoying song

On repeat.I keep blaming myself

For everything that went wrong.Sad and angry because it feels like it wasn’t you,

It was me.But trust me when I say this time

I won’t be crying anymore.Because you were the one who

Ruined it.Who ruined everything.

And one day you will realizeYou ruined a good thing.

Images graciously borrowed from Google


Conflict

Pull Up a Chairby Leilani Goodwin

16 years, how quickly they past byMany laughing, some cryThe memories I’ve shared

Bonds I thought were everlastingly pairedNot like my parents, definitely not lasted

Yeah I reactedAt 5, I saw them go their separate ways

Together, I can barely remember the daysAlways fighting, no fists

Somewhat thankful for thisToo young to understand

To grasp the concept or demandFast foreword, movement in my time

Where depression and happiness rhymeMentally and physically abused by the oldest

Number of time I’ve been hit countless, mold thisFighting continued day in and day out

Sometimes ridicule, all I could do was poutTime to move on, 11 years so far, doesn’t get any better

The rain became colder, slightly wetterNew house, new area, some getting used to

My friends you ask, very fewThen comes someone who I thought was cool

The first friend in this schoolThe friendship moves to what I thought was greater

Sadly, common sense kicked in laterUp, down, side to side

Emotional roller coaster I rideThis friend is added stress

Something I thought I could handle in man made messAt home we struggle to pay bills

Identity thief kills Missing checks plus depression

Not an environment to learn a lessonThese drastic falls, uplifting rise

My reaction is long criesThey ask, how someone so young can be so bitter and angry;

Find a chair,Pull up seat in my life,

You’ve got your answer,Don’t ask me



On The Edgeby Atim Ekpe

Why does one find joy in the misfortune of others?Hard to believe that one time long ago we

Once considered each other brothers.

The wounded man whimpers on the road,“Good Samaritan, where have you gone?”

The man cries out in agony, but the Samaritan Will not come, the adversary rejoices.

Why must temptation swallow common sense?Your conscience should be the only voice in your

H ead, not the others making you tense.

“Why, why have you forsaken me so?”Shout the pupils of the brutalized young boy.

He finally turned his head away from the “show.”



Anthony, my brother, is home safe now. He has been for the last four years. One of the biggest fears in my life at that time was that he’d never come home. I was afraid Iraq would keep him away for-ever. I distinctly remember the dreadful drive to the airport. I sat absentmindedly in the back with him, playing an action kung-fu

game on my handheld, not really giving much thought to what was going on. JFK Airport greeted us, also welcoming other traveling

soldiers, probably boarding the same flight my brother would.

Inside, the terminal was buzzing with people and rolling luggage. I always loved the airport, but when I was going on vacation- not

watching my brother go off to war. He met up with a brown-haired older man, a drink in his hand, dressed in camouflage. His name tag presented him as a Sergeant. He greeted us with a somewhat

warm smile, as we approached, and asked, “Are you ready?”

I saw my mom, my brother’s girlfriend, and my brother cry- so I cried too. I gave him a hug, and watched him go down the eleva-tor. “Don’t cry.” My mom said, blotting her face of tears. I knew

he’d be safe. All he was going to do was operate machines, but it was so much more than that.

My face lit up with hope whenever his username was on my

“Online Buddies” section on AIM. It was like he lived in his own house, and I was instant messaging him. Sometimes he’d call just

to talk to me. But a week without a phone call made the family nervous. He was away for Christmas and his birthday, but we knew

he was okay.

I thought about how young he was, and brave. But I was also proud. He graduated from North High School eight years ago. He got a little piece of fame in the newspaper. It was a small section, but my mom cut it out and to this day still carries it around in her wallet. I always tell people I have three older brothers, and men-

tion one was in the army. They ask if he’s okay, and I reply, “Of course.”

by Esmeralda Gomez


Mr. McDonald....by Femi Fagbemi

Rustle, Rustle, Rustle, the first sight of flight.

Haste!! It is time for the chase.

Damn.....Confrontation...

Blamm!! The first shot is fired

Whammp Another

Slam! And another!

HUUH! Hard to breath

Huhh - I can’t see

HUUh...what about my baby......

created for POLARIS 2011 by Matthew Wang

grade 7

Polaris - PBworks

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