Issue 4

End Of The Year Collection

Photography

By Aoife

ArtWork

Collection of 3rd Grade Poetry

Mrs. Vlahos' Class

Ms. Tarasiewicz's Class

Poetry Collection

Poetry

As I am above, I am below.

By Ava

There are lands far away where eternal frost reigns.

Winter binds them in a contract.

There are lands far away where the scorching sun descends.

The wind themselves burned with fear.

There are lands abundant, lush, and green.

Where life begins.

And there are barren wastes, remnants of the ruins we follow.

Where life ends.

The human spirit stands divided.

Inward, outward,

Above, beneath.

An endless cycle of soul and flesh.

The same forces shaping sea and stone,

Reside within the locked up chambers of our own.

What forms the highest peak,

and the lowest abyss

Reside within the spirit, hidden and secretive.

The thing I love,

And I cannot doubt you cherish too,

Is not one idea, but contradictions alike.

Above, I stand hallowed in humanity’s sight.

Above, the voices crown my name with light.

Above, I hear the pleasing words I dearly crave.

Those sweet hymns that call my name,

that only the weakest would want to claim.

Below, I understand what my pride conceals,

Below, the illusion fades, I am forced to endure.

Below, I am lying.

Knowledge cuts far deeper than it may heal.

Yet does falsehood cry the sweeter song?

The honeyed comfort men pursue.

I heard those voices murmur soft and low,

And then I yielded to their temporary flow.

Which is why when I came to know you.

I appeared more bright, more worthy, more revered.

I was transformed from old clay,

Into a noble figure.

But as I have stated before,

truth returns.

Everyone knows.

As I am above,

I am below.

Spring Poem

By John K. 

Trees sway as grass shakes.

Spring time is here,  when the flowers are drawn out.

The season of bees, full of honey

And the colorful pattern of yellow and black.

Sports begin while schools shut down.

While the air is fresh, you can hear the sound of birds chirping.

No more artificial classrooms, and more of nature's beauty

Enjoy it while you can; it lasts only one week.

Spring Back

By Joseph M. D

From the stopping of the cold in March,

To the rain of the April,

Flowers rising in May,

Springtime is back,

 the children are a joy,

                                The animals wake up,                               

And the rest of the humans 

Then it ends,

Still very hot 

But it will be back,

It will be back

Springy

By Joseph M. D

Spring, what is spring,

Does it bounce

Does it fill with water

No it doesn’t

Spring is a few months,

That are not to warm

And not to cold

It has flowers and everything comes alive again 

A Very Sorry

By Oliver R. 

Oh, and on that note

I might have been able

To eat your very delicious donut

(That you left on the table)

It was oh so good

Until I heard a sound

It startled me so

And turned me around

So I dropped your sweet donut 

And leaped for the door

And left your chocolaty donut

Rotting on the floor

So I apologize for what I did

For eating your donut and leaving in a lick

For eating your warm, cream filled, delicious chocolate donut

Making it disappear like a trick

My Odyssey

By Oliver 

Through the vast blue seas

To cyclops’ taller than trees 

From sirens born to sing

To whirl pools constantly sucking

My odyssey is kind of bad 

Even though I'm Odyssyus’ son(It’s kind of sad)

If I could though have a journey I’d see the stars

And send thieves into life behind bars

Even though I can’t can’t fight cyclops’ so tough

I feel like seeing it would be enough

Depths Of The Sea

By Fiona

People know very little about the depths of the sea

Perhaps at the bottom there’s a little city

And perhaps in that city there are people who look like fish

Who have hands and gills and sometimes tails that go swish

And perhaps those people live lives like me and you

And perhaps they have feelings, just like we do

And perhaps they live in homes, same as us too

All the way down in the deep, deep, blue

People know very little about the depths of the ocean

Perhaps there are creatures that put large waves into motion

Perhaps these creatures are bigger than any other creature we know

But we just never see them, because they never show

And perhaps these creatures have eyes that glow

And perhaps they have ragged teeth and claws and they swim slow

And perhaps they are kind, though they’re scary, but we do not know

All the way down in the deep, deep below

Short Stories

Written By Amelia

The snow crunched underneath her feet, yet it was much less than it used to be. It was melting away, day by day, giving way to spring. There were patches of white intermingled with browns and greens and many other colors. 

The ground was soft, muddy, and wet. Green shoots of plants were bursting out of the ground. Grass blades were emerging from their bed of dirt.

 The mud squished between her toes as she hopped around, looking for a good place to call home. 

The trees just started to begin to bud, with their gentle greens emerging from the stark contrast of the dark browns of the tree.

And, there! A perfect little place to put a nest. She flew up to it, her feathers ruffling in the wind, and it passed her inspection. 

The easy part was over.

Now, onto actually building the nest. She scoured the land with her keen eyesight to keep a lookout for sticks littering the ground. The dead twigs are transformed to turn into something that houses life.

Twig after twig, stick after stick, she stacked each one with globs of mud for it to keep its structure. Flying up, down, up, down, to intricately create the nest.  She woke up every morning with her sore wings.

Yet, she had to keep going. Her eggs would not wait forever.

Up and down, twig after twig and stick after stick, the nest grew upwards toward the sky.

Going to sleep in her ever-growing nest was always cut short by the sun rising and announcing a new day. It was never enough sleep, considering she had eggs and was working this hard, but it was necessary for her young to survive. 

The tower of a nest that she had built was finally done, but it seemed to be missing… something. 

There!

Near a flowering bush bursting with pink flowers, bustling with honey bees. It was the perfect stick. The perfect thing to finish off her beautiful nest. Her nest would be the best nest. 

The perfect thing to welcome her new young into the world. 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Goodbye, Lucianna

Written by Evelyn

Busterville was deserted. A small pub, tucked in the corner of one street, a solitary man ordering some drinks. The dark reddish, brown pub that stood out from all the other buildings. It was also very small. Lucianna ran the pub alone, and she was very fond of it, even though the paint peeled off and the walls were scratched.

The solitary man went by the name of Kevin, and he received his beverages. Lucianna smiled and went off, ready to close down the pub. Kevin left, slamming the door behind him. Lucianna turned off the lights and locked the doors. Kevin, covered by darkness, stood by a trash bin, watching her.

The next day, as soon as Lucianna opened the pub, Kevin strutted in, carrying his black wallet and his slick, black, coat. Lucianna was surprised he was back again, but she took his order and went off. Another man, who went by the name of Harold, walked in and placed his order. Kevin clutched his coat and peered at this man. Harold looked around, fiddling with his oversized wallet. As Lucianna appeared again, she brought their drinks. Kevin opened his coat pocket, but Lucianna disappeared. 

The next day, Kevin spotted Harold in the pub, again with his crusty brown wallet. Kevin walked in and smiled softly at Lucianna. Lucianna was so startled, but she walked over and placed the orders, like every other day. She brought them their drinks, like every other day. Except, today was not like any other day. 

2 men, fiddling with their jackets and wallets, 1 Lucianna, and 0 other people. Busterville became deserted once again. Lucianna tried to escort both men out, but each one insisted the other person go first. Lucianna then noticed she had never seen Harold’s eyes. Kevin walked out, peering over his shoulder before rushing in, yelling.

Lucianna never saw Harold’s eyes, never will. 

That pub will never open again, and those people will never enter again.

Those two people said two words that will be the last things she ever hears.

One man said it joyfully, the other, devastated. 

Goodbye, Lucianna.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Box

Written by Liam

He comes in every day. The man in the black suit. He’s nine feet tall. And slim. Slimmer than a nail. An empty face. No mouth, eyes, nose, ears. He wears an ironed fully black suit and a top hat that makes him even taller. He comes in with a tray of red slop. Then he leaves. Just as he came in. By walking through the wall.

Five days ago, I was walking home from work. I worked late. It was 11 o’ clock at night. The  ambience of crickets filled the night. Endlessly. The flickering streetlights lit up the road. They were the only source of light in the darkness. The moon wasn’t in sight. I was a couple blocks away from his house. I sported a black suit and a top hat. I started to walk faster, closing in on the man’s house. He was sleeping, not knowing what was to come. I found his house. His door was locked. But I walked right in. Passing through the door.

I think I've been in this room for 8 days. This box. This white box with no windows, doors, or escape. My only source of nourishment is the red slop. It acts as my food and drink all in one. I never touched it. Until I had too. I couldn’t bear my thirst and thought eating it would help. In fact it did. But it was the most foul thing I have ever tasted. It was overly salty. The man walks in again. He just stares. With his blank face. Watching me suffer.

“Why? Why would you do this to me?”

The man stared.

When I found him, he was sleeping. Not knowing what awaited him. He started to wake. With a snap of my fingers he fell back asleep. Next I clapped my hands. He was gone. And now he was in the box. This very man had wronged me. And now I had just executed my revenge.

I have no idea how long I've been in this box. My skin has started to wrinkle. My hair started to grow white. But the man in the hat still comes in everyday. Everyday.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________