Amber
Dreamer’s Madness
By: Alyssa MillingDreams are endless, enticing, effective,
In allowing us to lose ourselves completely.
There are no limitations that bind us in our worlds.
We may tread the surface of Mars and battle our enemies in one day.
We may join any journey or create our own quest.
We may never do these things in reality but that does not make it disheartening.
It makes it easier, easier to escape from that which is real.
But as Hamlet said, “there are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy” (Shakespeare, I.v. 187-188).
And dreamers must admit to it or be stuck in their worlds forever.
My Escape: A Descriptive Poem
By Mishael PanzardiDreamer’s madness
By: Alyssa MillingDreams are endless, enticing, effective,
In allowing us to lose ourselves completely.
There are no limitations that bind us in our worlds.
We may tread the surface of Mars and battle our enemies in one day.
We may join any journey or create our own quest.
We may never do these things in reality but that does not make it disheartening.
It makes it easier, easier to escape from that which is real.
But as Hamlet said, “there are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy” (Shakespeare, I. v. 187-188).
And dreamers must admit to it or be stuck in their worlds forever.
The plain and predictable day drags itself on, accentuating the pops of creative color seen in the mind’s eye
I can free myself. I know how. I have a variety of weapons to cut through these two stagnant years before I am unleashed upon the world, wings spread, pencil in hand.
Life ticks on, slowly, slowly, and for awhile I was caught as time slipped by, and shifted and changed habitually like the tides in the ocean, subjecting themselves to the moon.
But I can free myself. I know how. So why don’t I? The question echoes in my mind as my passion is suddenly drained by some unknown beast, feasting off it. But I continue, I drag on through the vines and thorns of anxiety & stress, imposed outside of me and within me, knowing I am but two years away from breaking free.
Why wait? So I slave away, day in and day out, writing, drawing, shading, singing, acting, dreaming.
I wait as the creativity washes over me. But it’s gone again. And I am brought back to the bland day.
Yet another escape has presented itself, another chance to break free, to break everyone free.
The stage presents me with another weapon. The newest one. Another to craft, and hone to cut through the stiffest hearts and minds, to write and present myself raw and untamed yet hidden away. But to get there, I must face it. A fear, and my heart beats rapidly as I think of that fear. A beautiful, risky fear. A talented, dazzling fear. But an irrational fear, so I scold myself.
It won’t matter as I too am her equal. For today, I am here. But tomorrow, I will be utilizing every skill I have, and my fears would have taught me, helped me soar, and become irrelevant. For when I create, nothing matters but the streams of art draining into my hand from my head.
I have wings of infinity, more colors than the rainbow, and I feel it and see it off other. So as I run up the stage, with my greatest fears and successes, I take a bow with them and hope for more. People stand, and applaud. They loved it. A feat, of either magic or art. A bit of both perhaps. Everything dissolves. No fears. No failures. No successes. Just the people who have been touched by today.
Beautiful. The taste of freedom comes in small doses while I’m still here. But my time has come. So I prepare. And you should too. For though the water is stagnant and muddy today, a river will soon run through and take you to the ocean. And while the tides are subject to the moon, you are not. So choose to fly beyond the moon.
Physics C Poem
By Max SchoenfussEvery day in fifth period, I look upon myself
And say: should I put my life back on the shelf?
Not to end it all, you see
But to put a short break in my grinding agony,
Every time I sit in silence in that sacred room
Trying to calculate the torque exerted by a broom,
I look at my hands dirtied with grime
And think back on integrals and a simpler time.
Back when I did not know of the three laws,
Who sunk into my mind dangerous claws,
When I barely ever touched a FBD,
The strange diagrams which so greatly represent me,
Does the friction force go left or right?
Does this great weight upon me ever feel light?
Sometimes I think back on the purple dog,
And look at how I acted like such a hog,
I feel as if my mind has flown like the projectiles we studied in class,
Leaving it as dull and dusted as old brass,
Now is the time of greatest change,
Oh how I wish again that I could calculate that range!
I remember when finding the normal force was so simple,
When I could allow my cheeks to rise and create stupid dimples,
When acceleration was constant, And it was not necessary to derive,
When the chains of responsibility and adulthood did not ensnare my mind,
Perhaps then I could not the truth find!
The winds blow and here I still stand,
Angular acceleration looms on the horizon,
I look through the fires and what could be the center of mass,
And yet I know that I shall still stand
Wiser and Stronger than before. And wiser and stronger I will be again.
Unfair
By: Pape DiopEach passing moment of mine consists of a series of personal anguish and lamentation
Whether it be through daily interactions or when I think to myself
Deep in the recess of my brain, I always find myself deliberating over the world’s current situation
As I look around my surroundings, I see people of varying degrees of wealth
I see the people in the streets, wallowing in despair as they can’t envision anything except the walls that ensnare them in their predicament
The young children stuck in the rut of poverty, unaware of their lost future
The parents of these children, wishing for an escape from their imprisonment
As I gaze around the world, I see the unjust corruption leaving no room for humor
Kids stuck mining for hours in hazardous mines in the Congo
To Uganda where blisters are sewn into their feet as they travel great lengths for unclean water
From the people in Syria without the power to veto
To the discrimination and prejudice facing immigrants who ran away from an impending slaughter
Many issues plague this vast world that we call home
Which make me wonder if the cries of these people will ever be heard
Yet I hold on to hope in my heart as the thoughts in my head roam
That a day will come where everyone will face this injustice with eyes unblurred
Lights
By: Gloria YangCan you see the lights?
The ones that twinkle in your eye,
The lights which bright up the night,
The lights that light up the sky.
The ones that reflect and refract
Into streams of dancing lines.
Off of objects that stretch and refract,
Onto walls of the room of mine
The curve of a figurine standing
A shadow of the wall
Of a small woman demanding
If she was anybody else at all
These lights that show more to the eyes
And exposes of what tries to hide
Represent as hope, lone truth, and lies
And some things that haven’t died.
What We Are
By Kayla Nguyen, Lina Kim, Layna Jeong, From the beginning, there was nothing but space
Then from the Big Bang emerged elements that over eons of interaction formed the brightest galaxies,
The hottest stars, and the most beautiful planets
And over time, that Carbon and Hydrogen and minuscule pieces of the worlds that would become formed us
Us humans with such curious nature that we, in return, forged new elements
That relationship led to more discoveries,
A chemical alliance, a connection that transcends natural boundaries
We are bound through attractions
We are connected through indescribable bonds
As a negatively charged electron is to a positively charged proton
This codependency is stronger than any existing matter
We are all made from the same stardust
How rare and beautiful it is to exist
What you are so am I
Why is chemistry between people and the universe the most complex yet most exciting science of all?
Stream of Consciousness
By Rochelle MillerIs it raining? Is it snowing? Is a hurricane blowing?
There’s no way of knowing in which the tables are turning.
A burst of joy, excitement, or random moments in which a feeling was more than a smile
Suddenly a crashing
Oh the pain that sets a blaze
Red purple yellow and blue, they think the red looks nice on you
Suddenly thinking
Thoughts of nothing
Causing feelings of nothing
Oh wherefore art thou?
I love you all
(But do you really)
You mean everything to me
(Milligram of a thought)
Blue yellow green and *achoo*, I think blue looks good on you
Is it sunny? Is it honey?
(Oh honey I’m home)
(Quiet you)
Is it ever lasting money?
No ‘tis not sunny, or honey or everlasting money
It is not raining or snowing and neither is a hurricane a blowing
Nor is it suddenly and feeling and colors
This is a stream of consciousness and you're just listening
Firelight
By Marianna SchwarkThe chimney crackles,
Wisps of orange, licks of blue,
Where cold hands get warm.
Julie Pham
