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February 4th was a day to remember for
to
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s will n
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m
Long
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Poly
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RB
Reuben
Droughns,
a
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3>Y # 2
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.nnybrew, from Beverly Hills HS will fill the void at
-4 »493
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left
by
up-coming
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Akili
Smith
and
re=>i Jason Maas. LB John Harris and WR Jason Jenkins
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best class ever." He could very possibly be right. Many
recruiting services have Oregon rated as low as fifth or
9, 161 .0Y * 40,
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the Pac-10 and second in the nation. Good luck to al ie (1.S.A. Wint"
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picnic and to our marching
picnic.
Finally , congratulations to our
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DRawIng By Hans EicblingeR
I Will Find a Way
By Tegan Mulholland
I have tasted the apple
I know it is sweet
I can't stop now
Have to keep on
You tried to stop me
But you were too late
You tried to scare me
' But you were too late
You can't stop me down
That I've tasted the apple
I can't go back
To who I was before
I don't care what you do
I don't care what you say
I will defy all
OGte to t|42 Cherry Tree
page hy NaTban Upbam
Be Otivicx Bender
Tple'l g
9 pick the sweet frwit
and rock back and forth
9vt tile Spt mvvier time
the dlerrld tree is thick
on the woodenswing.
with green leaves and red gerns.
9 savor the red jewels as 9
ecAt them one be ovie.
They are like precious stones
sparkling in the spin.
Even then there are
still cherries left for the viext GICAW
So valuable that
everybodg wants them.
So vyvild different people
5irds fig to the top of the tree
and animals apprecicite
early ivt the vnorning,
Decking atcherries forbreakfast.
tktrit it sometivvies seems
Ovt hot aftervioons.
that it is sacred,
small come to eat too,
like the leaves are €nteralds
their arms stretdled out,
and the cherries rubles.
reaching for the sweet fruit cwbove.
c[kiey clivnb the tree.
Od€ to tile Clterrg C[reel
Iligher avid 1/ligher.
The branches shake
and tell them thee are heavy.
.
And in tile everlines,
even dogs vnke their wag over.
Lapping 'Ap the falle'1
cherr\es
tllatiag ort tile ground.
The juice vnakes their pale tovigues
as red as crimson colored lights
09 a Christmas tree.
2
COY)le,
I will find a way
Better than anything
Money can buy
I will go on
Continue to try
I don't care
What my friends say
They don't really know
I will find a way
tile cherrg tree,
A 1
Carroon By Narban Upham
--
4.*
.
.
Wishes
By Felicity Rose
"If you could have anything in the world, what would it be?" the teacher
asked with a smile.
Caitlin felt like she'd been punched in the stomach. She
#
knew what she wanted. Oh, yes, she knew. There were several giggles from
around the room and a couple of whispers.
j
"The paper should be at least one and a half pages long, and should
illustrate why you want this thing. It's due on Friday. I'll give you some time to
work now, and then it will be homework," Mr. Durham said. A boy in the front
row raised his hand.
"Yes Colin?"
"Anything, Mr. Durham?" There was a general giggle from the room of
students.
"Within limits, Colin. Within limits," Mr. Durham replied. "Anymore
questions? Then you can all start working. And I want actual writing to be
done, not talking." There was an innocent silence from around the room. Mr.
Durham sat down at his desk, and the class began getting out paper.
Caitlin had no trouble with this assignment. She knew what she wanted.
The only thing she wanted in all the world. She wanted her father back. The one
thing she wan ted and there was 7r10 way to get it. Ever.
A foot pushed at her chair and she turned around to receive a folded note
from her best friend, Cynthia, who sat behind her. Caitlin turned back to her
desk and unfolded it carefully, making sure Mr. Durham didn't see. It had four
words scrawled in Cynthia's handwriting.
Two words: it said, Brian West. At any other time Caitlin would have
laughed. She didn't laugh now.
She wanted her father back.
The memories came then, pushing at her consciousness with all their
strength. She didn't even try and push them away, like usual. They seemed
inevitable now. Caitlin closed her eyes and let them come.
Sungl asses. That was what she thought of. Why were the last words she
,
Why?
Why
could remember him saying asking for designer sunglasses?
couldn't they be saying he loved her, or good-bye. He might have said those
j
things, but she couldn't remember. Couldn't ever remember. Worse, she
1C
coul dn't remember if she had said them.
He had sounded so bad that last day, as if he were struggling
for every breath. Why hadn't they realized that breathing had nothing to do
with a strained muscle? That by the time they got him to the hospital it was too
Wheezing.
i
late. Far too late.
Caitlin remembered sitting in the waiting room at the doctor's office, days
before.
His back had been hurting him for days.
The doctor said it was a
strained muscle, and gave him a prescription for morphine. Morphine. Which
only made it worse, because how was he supposed to tell that it had gone far
j
i
beyond a strained muscle when he was full of drugs?
He had gotten worse after that, but who was she to doubt anything a
doctor said? She didn't know enough to say that he was really sick. That he
should be at a hospital, not in bed, unable to move for the pain and struggling for
breath. If she had known, maybe it would have helped. Maybe she could have
done something.
Finally his girlfriend decided he should go to the hospital.
And what he
thought of were his designer sunglasses. As if he would need sunglasses in the
hospital. They had picked them up later with the rest of his things. Days later,
but it seemed like years. Certainly Caitlin had aged years in that time.
The doctors at the hospital said he would be fine. Or so they told Caitlin.
She never knew the whole truth. Perhaps they knew as soon as they sawShe
him
that it was too late. Whatever had happened, no one was telling Caitlin.
knew he was in an Intensive Care Unit, but at ten years old, that didn't mean
anything to her. After all, they said he would be fine. He had pneumonla, yes,
but he would be fine.
He wasn't fine.
And nothing would be fine again.
Her mother called that night, and told them she and Caitlin's step-father
were coming down. Caitlin was confused-after all, he was going to be all
right-but wasn't about to pass up a chance to see her mother, who she'd been
missing lately.
Later, Caitlin wondered how she could not have seen. There were so
- many clues, but she couldn't put them together. She didn't want to put them
Because
the
answer
was
more
than
she
had
ever
dreamed
of.
More
together.
than she had ever had a nightmare about was more like it.
Her mother arrived the next day, running to her and hugging her so
tightly.
"How are you?" her mother asked.
,
"Fine," Caitlin replied, not understanding.
"You don't have to be fine," her mother said. Caitlin was confused.
1 haven't gone to see him. Jeff," her older brother, "did last night, but
.
they didn't want too many visitors," Caitlin told her mother. The older woman
blinked.
"Why does it matter? He's dead."
Dead. Dead.
Dead.
That memory ended and others began, different memories, of his smile,
his laugh, the curls of his hair. The silk shirts he always wore. The warmth that
was her father. The joy that touched everyone who saw him. You could have
your eyes closed and still know when he walked into the room, without him
speaking at all.
He was that alive. Except that now he wasn't. He was just gone.
Gone.
A year ago, less than a year ago, she would have had a hundred answers
for the question Mr. Durham had asked. She would have wanted world peace, a
million dollars, to be the most famous actress in the world. The first woman
president, a world-famous author, the list went on and on. She only wanted one
thing now. The one thing she could never have.
She wanted her father back. Someday there would be more. Someday all
those little things she had dreamed of would come back to fill her life again.
Someday little things would be important again. But she would never stop
1
wishing for this one thing that she could never have.
Caitlin picked up her pen and looked down at the blank paper before her.
And thought of her father. She thought of his exuberance, his vitality. She
thought of cruising in his convertible. Of him singing 'Brown-Eyed Girl' to her.
Of Grateful Dead concerts. And Caitlin smiled, because though she could never
have him back, alive, she could, did, and always would have him in her heart
and in her mind. And that was what mattered.
And so it was with a smile shaped of sorrow that Caitlin set pen to paper
and wrote her father into a story that didn't need to be written, only told so that
everyone else could know it too.
Ove
by
7 ,
Layout by Felicity Rose
and Tonia Boock
Boock
3
£
Little Red
Riding
Hood
Rosie was 2 years old the first time she flew a space shipwell not really by herself, she was sitting on her dad's lap while he
flew. She was five years old the first time she flew on her own - with
her dad sitting next to her.
Now that she was 10 she could do anything a grown-up
could do in a-spaceship, and she did. She even had her own
spaceship. It was pai nted bright red: She also had a red space
e
suit. But what was the most strange of all was her red cloak with a
hood. She loved it and would not go space traveling without it. It
was because of this that she became known as " Little Red Riding
Hood." Everyone in the galaxy had heard of her.
Eve ry thing she owned was red except her hair and eyes;
her hair was black and her eyes were brown. Some people said
they looked red but her mother said they were brown, so fhey were
brown.
One cold December afternoon Rosie was home with her
mother sipping tea and telling stories of her travels when her
mother asked, 'Rosie dear, I made your grandmother a bas ket of
healthy snacks last Monday and the spacemail won't be coming
until tomorrow, I'm afraid the dai ry4ree whole-wheat cookies will go
stale, so could you go and deliver them to her?"
Rosie bounced to her feet "Of course 1'11 go, mother! H she
said "Just let me grab my cloak and I'll be off. H
Rosie put on her cloak and her mother kissed her good=by
and said H Remember dear never talk to aliens."
·1'11 remember, mother!" Rosie called as she got into her
spaces hip.
Once Rosie was out of Earth's gravity, she set her ship to
light speed. Now she was on her way to planet Zankis (which was
where her grandmother lived).
A long time later Rosie began to feel tired. She looked at her
red watch and saw that it was midnight, Earth time. She decided to
stop on Pluto so she could get some sleep.
something tapping on her
her
she
on
Suit,
a
flash
space
as
pulled
As
quick
spaceship.
who
was
outside
to
see
and
stepped
grabbed her laser gun,
When she
landed she
heard
bothering her. She saw a huge mop of green slimy skin with long
twisting
tentacles
sticking out all over it. It had a huge toothy
mouth. Rosie recognized this as one of the rare aliens that liked to
feast on humans. Aiming her gun straight at the alien's only eye,
she said, H Get out of here, you big blob of snot, before I blow your
eye out."
14
-r
.....
tre
d
The alien was not going to be scared off by a little girl, so
instead of leaving, it said in its slimy voice, "Oh, don't be foolish,
little Red Riding Hood, I would not want to eat you. I was just going
to ask where you were going:
Now, Rosie had already forgotten her mother's advice about
not talking to aliens, so she said cheerfully "I'm off to planet Zankis
to visit my grandma and give her these healthy snacks." When the
alien heard this, it quickly left. So Rosie went back into her ship and
went to bed.
Meanwhile the alien went to its ship and flew off to the planet
Zankis while Rosie slept, so, of course, it arrived at Granny's long
before Rosie did. When it got to Granny's, it knocked on the door
and said in its sweetest voice, "Hello Granny, it's Rosie. I've
brought you some healthy snacks: When Granny opened the
door, the alien swallowed her whole before she even had time to
scream.
When Rosie arrived the next morning she knew from the
moment "Granny" invited her in that this was not, in fact, her
granny, but the alien she had met the night before. She also knew
that she had to be clever in order to get rid of this human consuming monster. She noticed that something was struggling
under the covers of Granny's bed where the alien was. She also
saw that the alien was wearing her grandmother's night cap.
Rosie crept to the edge of the bed and said 'Oh granny, what
a large eye you havel"
"Better to see you with, my dear." It was, of course, waiting for
her to comment on its particularly large mouth.
Instead, Rosie went into the kitchen saying "Well, l had
better get a knife to cut the apples with: When she came back,
she said to the alien "What a green skin you have, Granny! Are
you that way all over?N And with that, she pulled the covers off the
bed and as soon as the alien's stomach was exposed she took the
knife and sliced it open, allowing Granny to jump out.
Together Rosie and Granny cut the alien into little tiny
pieces, and threw them out the window one by one. They spent the
rest of the day eating healthy snacks and talking about nothing in
particular. Then Rosie flew straight back to earth without stopping
anywhere.
The End
by Moksha Rainbowlight
295tz.
Layout by: Heather Shershun-Varner
and Mollie Toper. Sketches By:Tina
Young and Jasemine Duvall
7
photograph by Richard Cissel
layout by Eva Miller
Summer
By Justin Neville-Kaushall
Summer is a time of purple, green grapes that slide into your mouth, feeling like
rubber until you burst them open, and all the flavor comes melting out into your
mouth, making it seem like a resivar of Sweet Water.
It is a time of blazing days, gold and white speckled flower grounds, and freedom.
It is Summer.
If the grapes are not enough, then you shall soon hear the tea kettle screaming like
an infernal Hitchcock rerun, then the Spice Bags shall be taken out, and immersed
in the boiling water, only to be cooled in the freezer of Cold. When the freezer has
done its work, you peer nervously into the shimmering, dark, liquid in the white
clay cup, that looks like a melted glass against a cold, night, sky.
And you drink.
It is also a time of late afternoon catnaps, and when you have waken, many times
you will find that the sun has forgotten you.
In Summer, the Wind rustles the trees and the leaves Butter down like a thousand
birds, rippling the air with flight.
And finally, the Dog, Seneca, climbing through the tall grass like a smiling goldfuzzed bee, with her own special treasure of a solitary rock in her mouth.
All of this, my friends, is Summer.
8
-
,.
DRawing By Teal GReybaveMs
,4
DRawinG ky Alex Munpby
t
By Kyla Duncan
LL,&*
Angels cry, did someone die?
Unseen harhlony makes us silent.
DRawing By SIOJON Newron
What causes this world to become so violent?
A long kiss goodnight
Will make us dream.
My life is ending; or at least it seems.
A pod of silken water ripples
As tears from someone's heart fall.
page hy Simon NewTon
Am I dreaming? Or have I ever dreamt at all?
A flash of imagination
Left my mind a long time ago,
Or could I still be dreaming?
But the tears I cry are real as they continue to flow«
9
Aliens
By Lisa M.
Gibbens
A phone range in the daily OFN newspaper office and Jane our night editor
The wom an on the phone said "Aliens have landed on top of City Hall.
picked up.
Jane
replied
"
We
will
see
what
we
Please get someone down here to do the story."
can do Miss.
right now."
But I do not promise we can do anything because we are short of staff
The women on the phone hung up and Jane called into Carter "Are
you busy right now or can you cover a story?"
Carter
"Right on it, Jane, as soon as I finish this paper." Replied Carter,
There the aliens had
finished his paper and got over to City Hall to cover the story.
landed and where holding the mayor hostage.
The aliens said, " We will release your mayor if you give us a subscription to
your daily OFN newspaper to help keep us updated, and the paper has to but
be in
our
we
Which we will give you the sample alphabet in the language.
need the editors promise that we will get the paper." Carter went to the phone and
The aliens want a
called the night editor and said, " Jane you have to get down here.
language.
subscription to the OFN and the editors promise that the OFN while be delivered as
well as that it will be in their language."
Jae got down to the City Hall and gave them her promise and said, " If you
give me the address of the place where you want the papers delivered I will make
sure you get your papers." The aliens gave Jane the address and some special stamps
that she could mail the papers with. The city of Cleveland remained a peaceful
treaty with the aliens forever more. No more events ever happened
writing about, hope you see this event in your local newspaper.
that are worth
,
Mi 1 1
page by Dylan Farque
Middle school is not the place
eve
ry
No one minds
growing teen wants to be.
middle school because it's pretty
fun for you and me.
--rts :S»
p.
The friends, the laughter, the exciting
adventure walking from class to class.
%
a
4...
1..
0
I
'r
.
-
.
I.'ll-..
4.
I
...
But when the bell rings you get stuck in
hallway traffic, and eve rything gets hectic
because you didn't do your homework,
and you are probably going to be late,
and then your really going to get it.
You get i nto class and you try to do it
quick but it never gets done, and when
the teacher comes over toMiddle
check School
it, you
4
consider yourself done.
9
is pretty great but it can also give you
a major headache.
.
Alex
.
10
Murphy
- -S-*@i
Clde to Books
By Sarah Albi
.>722
*,4. 4\ 5459
Tina Young
Myths and legends
Stories and tales
About fairies and
Princesses. Knights
In shining arrnor
Like a dream told
Out loud, treasure
Island with pirates
Galore as I shout I
Want more about
Fair maidens and
The seven seas
3
Adventure, fiction
Novels, comedies
L.
Thriller and
Mystery too. As I
Devour them into
My mind, my brain
Is painting pictures
Impossible to paint
I
On a canvas with a
Brush and fine oil
J
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Paints, words in my
Brain that mean lots
Of different things,
Lia Getred
That make me feel
So many different
Ways. Imaging far
Away places, and
Not going by car
But by camels and
Flying carpets with
Fine color like rich
Tapestries in a
Castle owned by a
Royal king and
Queen. While I sit
Inside by the fire
Cuddled up with
My favorite book.
The Ladder
It goes forever
And then it ends
4I
The summer comes
And goes
Another year has come
Of books and words and thoughts
Then it' s gone
And comes again
You're on top of the ladder
You're on top of the ladder
For just one year
And then its back
To the bottom
To start all over again
Page by Richard Cissel
"The Ladder" is by Mollie Toper
11
The Sea
By Tegan Mulholland
I stand on the beach in the cold and wet
The sand underfoot lets me forget
The waves wash away the pain I knew
I forget all the times I have been untrue
2nd
The water enters into my veins
I pulse with the sea, which yet remains
My cleansing and eternal joy
My one truth no one can destroy
DR*9\TIC
PCEIRY
The wind blows away the fear I feel
And the pain I have seen so hard to conceal
I am one with the world, I begin my ascent
To that place that is mine, my true element
I see my inner self before my eyes
Feel my true heart deep inside
At least at this moment I am light, I am free
To make into one myself and the sea
B!1 Kyla Duncan'and Sydney Bherrends
A sinful tear runs down a serious face,
A dancer dances with such beautiful grace.
Often those tears fall,
Just like petals from a rose.
My heart will always continue to grow.
Her mystical dreams
Haue always told lies,
Will she euer come out of herlouers' disguise?
The regret of tomorrow
11111[ constantly bring on years of sorrow.
artwork by Nell Deligio-Spiess
layout by Eva Miller
12
Ode to Piglet
By Jess
Hock
.
Drawing by Felicia Katz
He may be short.
He may be scared.
And he may be pink.
But there is more to Piglet
Than you might think.
He's Pooh's best friend.
He's Eeyore's bud.
Tigger always bounces him in the mud.
Ws Piglet' s size that gives him trouble.
' The wind takes him up like a peppermint bubble.
He says "Oh my..."
..
And"D-d-d-dear."
Tkte BoA
Of Heffalumps and Woozels
He has great fear.
For such a small animal
D
It' s hard to be brave.
But it is his kindness and sweetness
Of which I rave.
My admiration for Piglet has no end.
I wish I were Pooh
So he would be my best friend.
Drawing by Catherine Earl
Remembering a Son
by Anna Richardson
Dear Commanding Officer,
He was the best that ever happened to me. Tim was my only child, and ever
since he was born, his father and I cherished him. All through school, Tim always
seemed to be bright, and his father and I knew that he would go to college. When
Tim entered the local High School, he was very popular. He was captain of the
football team and student body president. One thing I started to notice about Tim
was that he had very strong opinions about war and politics. I was not very
surprised when he signed up to fight in Germany, during World Was One. I trusted
Tim, and knew that he would be safe, although I was a little frightened with the fact
that he was leaving me. We had a teary good-bye at the Train Depot, and then he
Awhile later, I'm not quite sure when, I got word that Tim had died,
while fighting in the Argonne forest in France. At this point, most mothers would
be sad, and angry at the government, but I wasn' t. Tim didn't fight in the war
C
E A
was gone.
because he had to, but because he wanted to make a difference. I know that Tim is
dead, but I truly feel that if he would of never fought in the war in the first place, he
would have felt empty and thought that he could have helped. I miss Tim, and
think about him every night, but I do this because I now know what a truly
wonderful person he was.
Z :E
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Yours Truly,
Margaret Arnol
6
13
Jimmy Powell's Classroom Adventure
by Jonah Hankin-Rappaport
Jimmy Powell was a small, shy fifth grader with red hair and freckles that
occupied most of his slender face. Unfortunately, because of his size and the color of
his hair Jimmy was teased quite frequently. The most common way Jimmy dealt with
this and other situations was to mentally escape. He just went into a daze.
Where he
wouldn't have to listen to anything anyone was saying to him (which quite often was
rude, degrading, or negative in some way).
On this particular day Jimmy was in his history class with Mrs. Broomtwitch who
had acquired the reputation of being the U Broom ed Witch." She was at least 137 years
old, according to most of her students. She had tiny spectacles that somehow always
ended up on the very end of her elongated, mole producing nose. She also had white
hair that she wore in a bun.
But, most terrifying of all were her evil, menacing, devilish,
squinting yellowistrgreen eyes. She was, with no doubt in anybody's mind, the
meanest, strictest, most terrifyi ng teacher in the world.
On this particular day Mrs. Broomtwitch was talking abo ut Columbus, and his
trip to America. She started out by saying «Columbus spent many weeks and many
days voyaging across the wide Atlantic. ...
"Blah, blah, blah," thought Jimmy, as he sluggishly drifted off into a misty
dream.
He found himself swimming in the depths of the ocean, somewhere near a
tropical area. He saw mysterious, exotic fish of oranges, yellows, reds, blues and
purples. As he was exploring the ocean depths far off he could see dark shadows that
belonged to a very large object. He cautiously, but inquisitively approached the
unknown object. The shape started to become more identifiable, and when he was
closer to it he could then tell it was a sunken ship. Now that he had figured out what
the originally frig htening thing was he was very interested in exploring the new find.
He circled around the ship looking for an entrance, and on the deck of the ship was a
hatch.
He pulled with all his might and the heavy hatch beg an to open little by little
until Jimmy could slide it away and go down into the belly of the ship.
Jimmy was very
excited about exploring the dark cavernous vessel and eagerly swam down to
investigate. Once he was down there he was a little nervous. On his right against the
wall was a barren desk, on his [eft there was a cracked window, and straig ht in front of
him was an old, brown, wooden chest. Jimmy was drawn to open the chest. So he
--
slowly approached it hoping that it might filled with gold. When he reached the chest
he carefully lifted the lid and peered inside with breathless anticipation.
surprise and delight lying inside was a gleaming silver sword.
.
To his
He held it in awe and
All of a sudden out of the corner of his eye he saw a through the cracked
window a pair of haunting yellowish green eyes that belonged to a massive shark.
The shark circled once, then swam like a bullet head on towards Jimmy who was
frozen in shock.
The horrific beast burst through the window, shattering the side of the
boat.
Then Jimmy in panic swung the sword with all his might striking the shark in the
head.
The shark was injured, but with all the momentum it had built up it went colliding
pride.
into Jimmy who went flying backwards, landed on his head and was knocked out. In
the meantime the wounded shark had swam away to recover from the damaging blow.
Jimmy blinked his eyes a few times as his vision cleared and he gained
conscience.
The sight in front of him was not a pleasant one. He was lying on the
floor looking at the same greenish beige tiles as the ones in his history class. He
slowly rai sed his head expecting to see the giggles, pointing fingers, and stares of all
.
twenty eight other students. Worst of all he imagined Mrs. Broomtwitch standing over
him with her hands on her hips, an evil scowl on her face, and her rnenacing eyes
darting into him like spears. But, instead of all this, the students were staring in awe at
him, then the front of the classroom, then at him, and so on. Jimmy slowly lifted himself
to see what they were all looking at in the front of the classroom.
He didn't notice
anything odd or amazing. Nothing was there. ,
That's it," he said to himself in delight. u Mrs. Broomtwitch was gone!"
All around him kids were saying things like U\Now, what happened," or " How did
you do thai?"
Jimmy had destroyed the evil Mrs. Broomtwitch That day at lunch Jimmy wasn't
sitting alone like he had every other day, in fact he hardly had time to eat he was
talking so much with his new
friends.
b
page by Starlight Alvis
The
End
. : 1 1\,. :t
%
0
15
By Eva I<rivak-Tetely
the lights flash
the siren rings
the body lays
in the moonlight
uhost Dance
by Kathrine Harrison
near the curb
one more girl
Swirling Shimmering Spiraling Spinning
is laid to rest
in the eerie light of the moon
in this cruel world
the ghosts have just begun their dance
blacks and jews
and it won't be over soon
Mischievous Misty Mangled Monsters
they leap about the leaves
red and orange and golden leaves
women and men
all treated differentl
*-
yet all the same
the lights flash
the siren rings
the body lays
that crackle by the eaves
Riveting Rambling Reeling Rainbows by the sky a velvet blue
the stars shine bright and what a
too
fright! The ghosts are shining
over the broken bed
one more boy
L
is laid to rest
Limber Leaping Laughing Looping c -4
in this cruel world
until each one is dizzy
they then slide down a waterfall
where their ghostly forms turn fizzy
Galloping Garrulous Graceful Gliding
sneaking among the trees
Layout by Emily Peterson
and
Jacque Fitzgerald
.
until with a swish their carried off
by a sudden gust of breeze
Dancing Devious Delightful and Daring
they race each other for fun
they crowd together the tension builds
until the starting gun
Irridesent Impish Intelligent Images
they search an abandoned house
a scratching sound !
they run out scared
though it only was a mouse
4 4
Whispering Whimsical Witty Wisps
they talk and sing with flourish
for hours on end their voices blend
until each one is hoarse
Tired from Tumbling Tossing Turning
dawn is almost there
a streak of light the ghosts take flight
and soon they fill the air
Blank
000
Bleak
000
Barren
000
Bland
000
no trace of them is showing
but next year they'll be back again
when the harvest moon is glowing
0.,
16
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The Banana
..V .
Fight
SHORT SZORY
by Max Nosiglia
.
'. .1 .
One rainy day in my old house in New York, my friend Paul and I were trying
to think of some thing to do. The rain was pounding on the house so hard it
sounded like people were throwing rocks at it. I suddenly got a craving for cereal. I
asked Paul if he wanted anything but he wasn't hungry. I walked down the stairs
and went into the kitchen.
"Go away," my mom said as soon as she saw me walk into the kitchen.
"But mom, I want something to eat ...
"Here, have a banana."
,I
And that's when it all started
I came back up the stairs and sat down next to Paul. I tried to open the banana
but it was stuck.
"Can you help me with this?" I asked Paul.
"You can't open a banana?" Paul laughed.
Paul tried to open it but he couldn't either.
.
"What is the matter with this banana!?!" Paul shouted.
uive it to me!"
"No."
"It's my banana," I said as I took the banana from him.
By this time the banana was soft and mushy inside the skin. It brown and yes,
it was still not open. I yanked it as hard as I could 'Plop'! The banana opened and it
was really gross inside.
The mushy banana oozed over my hand. I threw it at Paul and ran into my
room.
Hearing his cries of anguish I held the door shut as tightly as I could so Paul
couldn't throw the incredibly nasty banana at me. He broke down the door and I
didn't have time to run. A small ball of banana flew through the air.
SMAAAACK!!!
I had ducked just in time and the ball of ooze hit the wall and
sprayed little blobs everywhere.
"Yuck!" I yelled as I scooped the banana off the wall. I anticipated the
direction Paul was going to try to dodge the sludge and I threw it in that direction.
b
The ball of goo hit Paul in the side and he yelped. He picked up the banana peel
(which was worse than the banana) and threw it at me. It hit me in the face. This
went on for about an hour, until my mom called us or lunch. We froze and my
mom started coming up the stairs.
Paul and I searched fran tically for somewhere to hide but it was to late. My
mom opened the door and at that moment I was dead, at least for a week. Paul went
home and I don't know what happened to him.
I ended up having to scrub the room top to bottom, and once I was done I
was grounded for a week. I didn't do a very good job and as far as I know
still dried pieces of banana there today.
there are
Layout by Jacque Fitzgerald
and Emily Peterson
17
L
.
7
Another Day of Middle School
By Tonia Boock
4/30/98
I awake to the sounds ofstampeding elephants in my head,
Another day of middle school, I'm sure tbat I will dread!
I rush to the bus, missing by an inch.
I guess I'll walk to school, don't worry it's a sinch.
The second bell rings and echoes in my brain,
I run through the courtyard, the kids and the rain.
Chemistry, choir, connections and math!
I'm sure that Shakespeare never bath!
The clock strikes three. the buzzer sings,
It's time to catch the bus and all the running that brings!
,- k
After the homework, It's time to hop in bed.
I awake *6 the sounds ofstampedin-g elephants in my head.
Layout by
Shanna Grose
Icarus
by Tegan Mulholland
You say it brings you up
It takes away the pain
But how long 'till you fall
1
and can't get up again?
While you fly in the clouds
I watch you lose your humanity
When you crash to the ground
I try to mend your broken bones
It eats you alive, devours you
And you crawl back for more
Anything, anything at all
To return to the clouds
But like Icarus someday
You will fly too high
And how 'till I find
Your broken body fallen from the sky?
l K
Children of the Moonlight
By Tegan Mulholland
Drawing by Nicole Trickett
We are the children
Of the moonlight
Eating bargain brand
Chicken soup at midnight
r
We have no names
We have no homes
We're lost, but know
Exactly where we are
We are the children
of the moonlight
Eating bargain brand
Chicken soup at midnight
We rebel and conform
L
Moving through the night
But when will be the day
When we come into the light?
,\.\ 1
Drawing by David Platt
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Books By Jonah Hankin-Rappaport
A book is fairy tale
A fantasy, a dream
You'd think they were so simple
Butthey are not what they seem
Abook is o lifetime
A history, a tale
A book is a story
Of a sweet nightingale
A book is mystery
A horror and a flight
A book is a nod
A chuckle ora tear
A book is a comfort
Page by: Heather ShershunVarner and Mollie Toper
A middle and an end
Photography by: Richard
It starts out as an enemy
Cissel
Sketch by: Sean Chappell
Z0
That blocks out all your fear
A book is a beginning
And then becomes a friend„
0« -
ST
My Journey
DRAMATIC
9-10Rr STORY
By Andrew Karas ek
.
As the plane touched down at the airport at Birmingham, I thought about
the other flights that I had taken earlier in the day: first to San Francisco, then to
Chi cago end finally here to Alabama. I also thought about what our Rabbi
Yitzak had told us the night before. He said that this was a journey of healing
and that we were on the first leg.
I am on this journey because twenty-nine days ago, during a routine eye
exam to update my contact prescription, I complained to the doctor about a
blurring of my vision. After many eye tests, the doctor suspected that I had a
tumor of the pituitary. Later that day I had an MRI and from those results the
doctors concluded that I had a brain tumor, probably a crani al pharyngioma.
After a few weeks of searching for the best neurosurgeon, my father (who is a
doctor of the brain himself) decided that we should go to Birmingham and see
Dr. Jerry Oaks.
I remember all the support I was given from the community. My friends,
who held a party for me the night before I left and also came to the airport to
send me off, were extremely kind during the whole ordeal. My family was very
supportive of me and gave me a lot of help. They took me to Charlotte Peterson,
a child psychologist. She taught me how to relax my body and calm myself.
One of the amazing gifts that I was given was from my 6th grade
basketball coach, Jeff Smith. Jeff coached my AAA team while going to the U of
O undergraduate program. He now goes to school in Boston at Harvard Law.
When he heard about my brain tumor, he took a flight to Eugene to see me. Ho
stayed for a weekend and played baske tball.
He said he came here to make sure
that I knew that there was nothing to worry about. Jeff has been a role model for
me, with his strong work ethic, self discipline and compassion.
For
I thought about all of the kindness of people at my middle school.
example, my teachers gave me extra time to turn in. assignments. My choir
teacher had the entire choir of 150 kids write me good luck notes. At my
religious school, they were dedicating the next Saturday morning service to my
recovery. It was meaningful to me because it was the one year anniversary of my
Bar Mitzvah. The Torah portion that they were going to read was the same one
that I read.
It was Bereshi t, the first chapters of Genesis.
All the support that I had received helped me get ready for what was
ahead.
We landed in Birmingham late of Wednesday night. My operation was
schedule for Friday. So I had one day to see the city. However, our main activity
was changing hotels. We checked in at the Radisson, but that was not clean. So
we moved to the Sheraton Hotel. On Thursday night we went to a southern
barbecue restaurant where we had ribs, ground pork, ground beef, chicken,
french fries and banana cream pie.
The next morning was my surgery. We woke up early and went down to
get the cab that we had ordered the night before, but there was no cab. We
21
waited and waited. We started calling other cab companies. Finally after 45
minutes a cab picked us up. We were late.
At the hospital they had me change clothes and wait in a little room.
While waiting in the room, Jeff Smith called. That was great. Our conversation
kept my mind off the surgery. As soon as I got off the phone the nurse wheeled
me into surgery. The last thing I remember was telling the doctor that the
anesthetic was working.
The first thing that I recalled after waking up was being in the PICU, the
pediatric intensive care unit. There were many intravenous lines hooked into my
arms and I felt very weak. Later, Dr. Oaks came in and told me that he could not
remove the whole tumor. It turned out that when he saw the tumor, it was not
what he expected. He took a small biopsy of the tumor, not wishing to go further
until he knew what type it was.
At noon the day after surgery I had an MRI of the surgery sight. After
they put me in the machine, my father asked the nurse if I had any metal staples
in my head. She said that I did. The problem was that the MRI machine is a
magnet. Magnets attract metal. So when they figured out that I had metal
staples, they took me out of the MRI machine. Then, the neurosurgical resi dent
took a pair of scissors and shoved them under the staples, then tried to pull the
staple out. This hurt a tremendous amount. I started screaming and crying and
asked her to stop. The resident continued to remove the staples with the scissors.
Fortunately for me, my PICU nurse came in with the staple removers and took
the rest out easily.
The rest of the stay at the hospital was uneventful. My parents got a small
room next to mine. They stayed there during the day because I was very
sensiti ve to light and wouldn't allow any light in my room.
Five days after surgery I was released from the hospital. I was taken to
the Sheraton Hotel where I started to regain my strength. I did, however, have
severely upset stomach. To help with this problem I was given phenergan,
a
which is an anti-nausea medication. Over the next few days I took frequently.
on Thursday morning, I woke up very nauseous. I took some phenergan and my
parent and I went to the hospital for an appointment with Dr. Oaks. We waited
awhile and then they took us back to an exam room. Dr. Oaks came in and told
us about the resul ts from the biopsy. He said that the tumor was soft and gellike and was one inch in diameter. He also said that this tumor is
characteristically benign and extremely slow growing (or indolent). He felt that I
might need some more surgery someday, but he didn't know when.
Later that same day, while watching television, I went into a confusional
state. My parents were very worried and rushed me back to the emergency
room, the took a CAT scan which showed no problems with my surgery. Then
they took me to a small exam room. As we waited to be seen by the ER doctor, I
had a full seizure. The next day I woke up back in the PICU. The doctors
believed that my seizure was caused by a number of factors, sleep deprivation, a
craniotomy, but mostly by the nausea medication. They put me on dialatin to
stop the seizures, and after one night of observation, discharged me.
0
--I.--:
.
That Saturday night my parents took me to the Alabanna International
Auto Show. This was really great because I love cars and I wanted to be around
other people.
On Sunday we flew back home. First we flew to Chicago, then to Denver.
At the Denver airport, my relatives came to greet me. They escorted us to our
gate and gave me two big thermoses of chicken soup. Next, we flew back to
Eugene. At the airport I was welcomed back by all of my friends and my sister.
It was great to be back home.
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Layout by Emily Chereck
and Alexis Pernsteiner
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Klunk, there's the desk again
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Ahh, home
tucked into a corner until tomorrow
Poem by Whitney
Pictu res by Tina Young
School
.-.0
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Poem by Felicity
.
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Moser
Rose
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I'm drowning in a river of words,
Dragging myself out of the current
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For gasps
Pulled
of life, of friends
when I can
and movies and
lazy days
back into the undertow of homework,
Drenched by the
swirl
1
of knowledge.
I revel in the
Even
feeling of water against my skin
as I fight to the surface from the endless pull.
Ever in front of me.
4
Threatening
It is the
me
as it entices
even
raging waterfall
called
me
on,
high school,
The rapids of College .
For
Page by Whitney
and
Alex
Moser
Murphy
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-
now I am
busy
For now I could
Than
the
not
with
the
deepening
handle more,
current
swirling river of words,
Threatening to drown me even as it shapes
ever
my
life.
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Summer Night c 4 )
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By Momei Qu Drawing by Tina Young
The sun painted the sky with its last red,
The clouds changed their colors in the reddish sky,
The wind pushes the clouds to catch"the sun,
And the trees whisper to the ground for a good night.
The birds sing their last song for the clay,
The puppies giue one last bark to the sky,
The kids shoot one last ball to the basket,
And the parents yelled: "Bedtime!"
Layout by Jade Chamness
*
Flower by Whitney Moser
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...
By Casey Marks-Fife
The last fresh breeze
''
Flows and splashes
Over Iny face like
Water before I go
In the dank dirty
#84
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\ Halls of school
The front is like
A palaoe as
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The farther I go
The more like a
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Dungeon it gets
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I feel as though
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By Michelle Hogan
\*75 1 21*.1 41 -
While outside you laugh inside
you cry
You nod your head even though
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you don't understand
f
Inside you climb but you have
a fear of falling down
1.
You say you trust after you've
I
been betrayed
,
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Who do you talk to about what
you really think about yourself.
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Do you break down or stay strong
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Someone wants to help
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Someone tries to help
4·LL A
But it doesn't mend the
hole in your heart
Drawing by Liisa Heinonen
What can you do
Help yourself
LAYOUT BY BRITT SEVERSON
AND MEREDITH FLEMING
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Drawing by
Meredith Fleming
Drawing by David Platt
26
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Seasoris
elte cofifness fiits atuf the [«wes start to jh[{.
06 innocent days of cftif<fren c{imBi,18 in your brandies are gones
Eack carefree activity is swept away with tk wind
Riu{ 0,14; tfle essence remains ia your 6 arrm brancftes.
.
Drawing By:Julia Hil
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you'Ve gained more rings am{ Witfi thtin more su,tfight.
7011've grown. more roots but a stiff win€{ cou,[4 stif{ RllockJou 40um.
gme tflicRJOB of conftuion a#4 11#< stiff +ns
Aid onfy th time ca# dearit.
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you strive to survive tfie [0118, co[6 days of wiriter.
5[ow[y you see your f:ien6 tumb[ing to tfitground besih you.
Sut you hoffastfor it £5 014 afew mon months tilrspri,ig
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Aid c[arity comes with new [ife.
Soon th &16 ott youx 6rancAts start to 6[ossom.
gli£ al:imGO awa41: with th sweet scent Qf diw in the air.
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ATU[ stand confident, rea<fy to 60 it a[otte ne* faff.
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Page by Julia Hill and Amanda A 1.
4
Holmes and Imagination
Caught in a daydream lis easy to forget
that bus now roar where the clickety-clack of the hansom once roamed the streets
of the Houses of Parliament
(contained: a killer?Only the Master knows that. . .or the present?)
Now where pudgy fingers of Mr. Perlman replace
the long, delicate extremities of Sherlock,
where the trenchcoat if a symbol of closed files not the deer-stalker,
in a world even Holmes' fabulously constructed mind couldn't work in,
where simple logic is taken for granted and yet not obtained.
But, for many children at heart where the tooth-fairy,
the Clauses and sugared rabbits still roam,
there is still hope for the land of sickly-yellow gas-lamps,
spreading a thick coat of light in all directions,
there the fog is so thick you can barely see the hand in front of you.
It was a time of innocence, where the romantic criminals roamed,
of heavy coats, mufflers and stove-top hatswhere now the synthetic Fleece now dominates.
But, for some there is still Hope--those that still do not deny the magic,
wonderfilled world that is opened up to us if we can only use that tiny speck that
we all have mobile, at least, in our brains.
If you use our imagination, we may still see the pale fingers flying over the violin,
br *,NA
7 OU09
-
A Simple Smile
By Ciel Miller
That smile,
It made me swoon,
That smile,
It could bring down the moon.
That smile,
It made me see,
That life has been good to me.
For that one second,
My grief was thrown away,
For that one second,
My pain away to stay.
4
28
.
b
e
The Cake Adventure
By: Lilly HarrisCooki ng is an art But for me, cooking is, well, not an art
I can
make chocolate chip cookies, and rice crispy treats, and that's about it
One year for my mom's birthday, I was supposed to make a triple layer
chocolate cake.
It was about two hours before I needed to have it
done, which I thought would be plenty of time to make a cake.
did I know what problems I would have on the way to the final
Uttie
product.
The first thing I did was get out my recipe book, to look up the
recipe for the cake. Then I checked to see if I had all of my
ingredients. Here's wher/I had my first problem, I had all the right
ingredients, but not enough of some of them. I figu red that I would
It seemed
just substitute some ingredients and ·add less of others.
simple enough. I had begun to like cooking, having it be so easy.
When I started mixing my ingredients together, I found that the
I didn't
ingredient that I was short on was flour, I was short one cup.
really think about it, but instead of adding just one ingredient for the
substitute, I added two. I added half a cup of baking soda and half a
cup of sugar. That was my biggest mistake. I didn't really know what
baking soda did to cake.
When I got all of my ingredients mixed together, I poured the
cake batter into three round cake pans. Then I put the pans in the
oven.
I set the timer for about 40 minutes, and went tc get ready for ·
the party.
About 30 minutes later I started to smell the cake.
4
It smelied
I was already congratulati ng myself on a good cake, and
imagining what people would say when they bit into the splendid
greatl
dessert
My mom would be so happyl
When the timer went off, I ran into the kitchen to see what the
cake looked like. I opened the oven, and was disappointed and
surprised to see three, one foot tall cakes where there once were only
29
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pans filled with batter. The cakes filled up most af the oven, so I
almost couidn't see the back of the oven.
I got my oven mitts out of
the drawer and put them on my hands. I reached into the oven and
grabbed a pan. Along with the pan came an enormous cake, and as I
set it down on the counter, I wondered what my mom would say.
When the three cakes were out on the counter, I sta rted the tas k
of removing them from their pans. With the first cake I knew another
I hadn't buttered the pans, and the cake was
stuck to the pan. With some struggles, I finally got the three cakes out
of each of their pans, with a few bits and pieces af cake still stuck in
the pans.
mistake I had made.
.
When I had them eac on a separate plate, toweri ng over me, I
had to laugh. Who would have thought that I would one day make a
cake that when set on a counter, I had to look up to. Then I opened
the refrigerator to find my frosting. I looked around the refrigerator,
and remembered that I had not made frosting. 011 well, I thought to
myself, it would look silly if I had three one foot cake's with frosting.
At this point I was just trying to make myself think this, I didn't really
believe it
I took the cakes and brought them into the dining room. Then I
disappeared into my bedroom, waiting for the moment when my mom
Would freak out and call me down stairs. I waited and waited, and
finally I heard the sound of my mom's voice calling my name. I walked
slowly down stairs with my head down. I was ashamed of myself, and I
felt horrible. I walked into the dining room and looked at my mom.
.
«Why the sad face?" my mom asked me. I looked at the cake, and
then looked back at her.
«Well you better take that frown offyour
lace, we've still got to set the table before guests start arrivi ng."
My mom never questioned the cake, and boy was I happy. We
had a wonderful time that night; and my mom actually ate a piece of
the cake, but I think it wasjust to make me happy. I guess it was the
thought that counted, but my mom has never asked me to make a cake
again.
Pages by Felicity Rose and Tonia Boock
30
-
Ode To Raindrops
By Ana Fernandes
They are like music,
Cool flat drops
That land on rooftops,
They feel like
Gumdrops
On my tongue,
€S
Thick and sweet.
Yet rain is a bully
Fierce and hard
In hurricanes,
Storms
And winds
Like tantrums.
A-_
Layout by Ani Niedelman
.ff Cc\S
and Chelsea Maloney
Picture by Tina Young
1,
1
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3
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Left:
Right:
Drawing by Florence Chirk
Drawing by Nell Deligio-Spie
Ode to spying
By Toyomi Yoshida
4 > Wishing to the Stars
By Kyla Duncan
The depths of my heart
Looking at
Funny acts
Laughing very Quietly
Run as wide as the ocean.
Talking to my friend
The unforgettable fear is what's pulling me back.
Every second with
It seems like my life is tearing away,
Waller talky
From the kindness
Running
I received yesterday.
The tears keep pouring,
My heart keeps mourning,
For the day I will lay awake
Wishing to the stars.
Going to the club house
Laughing very loud
Time goes so fast
Sun goes down like a basketba
It was a stage of only the finest aeters
They reeited words memorized to please the audience,
Wore masks brightly painted
But miderneath, a well of Morrow lurked,
(Dilly te appear when the mask cracked
Tile script was filled with whipers, lies, and betrayals
Everyday people were ehained at mind and heart
But no one would admit it
Tliey were all too good at pretending
And so it went 6 hours a day, and 5 days a week
4-»/1 / E-
They laughed when they wanted to ery,
/1
Sulled when they wanted to frown
And slowly, their spirits died
Sulitaileeg used to deny the huding
Sharp objects stabbed deep into the flesh to punkh themselves
Self hared became evident in each person
David Pli
But,as an audience member you applauded theul,
Thought they were marvelous, joyous people
You never knew the truth
Alexis Pernsteiner
7th grade
Sth grade
Memories
Julia Hill
8th
I can remember when
time was longer,
When the hours
seemed like the days
do now,
Or maybe they
were days
5
&
I can remember when
you were taller than I was,
But then I grew,
Or maybe you shrank
I can remember when
life was so Silhple
But then you. grew
Or maybe I did
I can remember when
I was young
My past is stored in
my memory
Or maybe I'm just
imagining.
32
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Drawing by Nathan Upham
Layout by Simon Newton
1 1
Photo by Natalie Dreyer
Drawing by Rebecca Trbtz
4
33
Thoes letters,
Lay-out by: Amanda Moss and Jessica Ingles
RMS!
Thet lovely Cheer
rings loud n' Clear.
Everyday I am there,
Getting assignments,
passing and falling.
Middle School
Choises, choses, Middle School
choises
I am sad,
so many choises to choose from not
I have to live,
very fun at somrtimes
And hear those letters
choises of . classes
SEHS!
choises of homework to do
most of the time it is not fun.
I have never
heard that cheer!
Poem by Ani Niedelman
Poem by: Jessica Ingles
Drawing by Charles Boucher
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Drawing by Mindy Tseng
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Drawing by: Bethany Watson
Spawning of the Salmon
Page by Julia Hill and Amanda Moss
By Mark Habliston
There was a male and a female spawning
two salmon in their yearly ritual
of swimming up stream,
back... back to the place of their birth
to spawn.
lying on the stream beds spawning.
We have to leave but I go back later,
There they
are,
by myself.
There she is, the female.
The male is dead, wedged between two rocks downstream.
She is scraping her belly on the bottom
when suddenly it ruptures sending millions of
tiny little eggs into the stream.
The life force of the fabulous event overwhelms me.
Most get wedged under rocks close by
but many are lost.
Then she dies and floats wearily down the stream.
She bangs her head
against her mates grave of stones
in a silent tribute to him
and then continues her journey to the sea
from whence she came.
Drawing by Zach Klonoski
Life
Teen
Blum
By Jonathan
.
Teen
Drawing By Casey Marks-Fife
life is a roller
going UP
one
next
Teen
it
life
down
and
day you smile
day you
like
is
varies
from
frown.
the
it' S
dark
sometimes
it'S
bright
Life
weather,
to
day
sometimes
Teen
coaster,
and
day,
4
yucky,
and
gay.
is a raceway,
everyone's in the
fast
lane,
general it'S pretty good,
in
although it can be a pain.
.
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Clark
Whitney
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By Lela Mansfield
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I step in the door and suddenly
feel as though I sink through
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the floor. Tension surrounds
1. 6
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me, bells are ringing, people
are rushing and I'm late for
class. Coming to school is like
coming to a world of work.
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24 1.
like I'm being pressured to do
better than the rest of the
class. There should be no
punishment for any mistakes.
you can't help it.
f
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1.
Teachers talk and we work, it's
Life is school and some times
.
i -2.3
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Page by Tonia Boock
and Felicity Rose
37 i
Falling
ii 7&.
129
By Olivia Bagdade
Ivy gazed at the reflection in the mirror and cursed as she turned around,
disapproving of the sad being which stared right back at her with those haunting
eyes. She was afraid of those eyes which saw right to her soul, her deeply depressed
soul. She didn't seem to see any beauty or good in herself. There truly were
bountiful amounts of both. Her skin was supported by a thin, fragile frame which
was embraced by her black-as-night hair. It descended down to her knees. Ivy's face
featured high cheek bones, a small, peaked nose and large, round eyes of such a deep
hue of violet, others often questioned themselves if those eyes were black, like her
[BNNIC
5-za sraer
hair.
Nothing had really happened to Ivy to make her so depressed; she just was.
Her family loved her as any good family would, and she could have friends if she
wished to or tried. Ivy seemed to see evil and darkness where others
didn't--couldn't-see. This darkened her perspective of life while others enjoyed it.
She had wings, as did all the other fairies where she lived, but hers did not
look as strong, yet they were somehow more delicate and beautiful. They lived on a
small, undiscovered island, unknown to humans. Ivy felt that the wings she had
were given to her only to put an evil wrath upon her and make her feel cursed. She
watched the others flit about and she sometimes wished she could do those tricks
too, and yet for some reason she never even tried to flap her wings once. She
thought it would make her feel that she was never fast enough so she simply
sauntered about from place to place on the ground at her own slow pace.
Ivy spent most of her time in her room, looking up to the heavens and
feeling droplets of water leak down to where she lay from the plants above her.
They broke up into little pieces when they crashed upon her fair skin. Those
moments were almost the only times a smile broke upon her lips.
Her spark for life had seemed to fade. All of the things that were once bright
and vibrant for a brief span of time in her youth were no dull sh*les of gray.
When the rain ceased, ivy sighed. Without thinking much, she arose from
her bed with a solemn face, and she slowly wandered out of her home. Her pace
picked up and soon she was speeding barefoot through the forests which she had
lived in for her long, sad life. Her heart beat at the pace of the hoof-beats of a
galloping.steed and her legs moved faster still. A salty tear fogged up in her eyes and
soon began streaming down her cheek, once white with innocence, now red with
rage. She was angry with herself, with life and some things that she didn't
understand or couldn't help. Her long black hair streamed behind her as she sped
through the trees.
t c <1
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j by Liisa Heinonen
Layout by Dagmara Marston
38
Ivy's velocity halted when she faced one of the greatest trees on the island,
towering above her. She cocked her head back to see the top.
She began advancing
on the tree, frantically groping about the bark for small ledges for her to step on.
Tears were streaming down her face from her violet eyes and she occasionalls let
She
grimaced
when
the
tree's
bark
scraped
out a whimper of grief and frustration.
her, drawing blood from beneath her fragile skin.
.
When she came to a large wide branch, slightly over her halfway up the tree,
Her
sobbing
she slowly stood up and walked over to where the branch split in two.
had eased now.
Ivy took a deep sigh as she gaped down to the ground far below her.
With her arms outstretched from her sides, she looked out and with a small hop,
She held her breath as her body was sucked
her flightless body plummeted down.
down toward the earth. The air beat upon her skin and it felt good and exhilarating.
She was going somewhere, and it was going to be the last time she could... but
somehow something was still strangely wrong.
slightly, trying to relax as she dove down.
She closed her eyes and exhaled
When she was a split second away from
crashing to the ground, her wings opened up without any thought or effort and her
Opening
her
eyes
she
looked
around
and
pitied
the
body was sivept upright.
it
was
as
though
someone
had
thought of a flightless fairy jumping off a tree.
suddenly turned on a light and everything was more beautifult,han it hadIvyever
been.
smiled.
With an easy, great, swift motion of her wmgs, her body was swept up.
It had been so long since a smile had spread across her face out of pure joy and
delight . . . and it felt good.
.-0 J
.
y Anna Delara
Layout by Liz Allcott
39
.
Ode to George (my cat)
Hock
By Jess
-
.
Gray fur
The Bird:
Resounding purr
The noisy bird sits in her cage,
With the name she got of Sage.
Haughty pose
A fluffy, pouncing, feline blur
The cat swings at the bird with giant claws,
That is just one of the cats many flaws;
Because the bird yells and bites at the cat,
Dirty nose
Sometimes naughty, I suppose
This teaches the cat to stick with the rat.
Likes a haunch
The bird will squawk if she isn't fed, -
Then rocket launch
Teach them words like JAY and DO.
Calms my tears
Snuggles fears
All for food and well-scratched ears
And ever-ready cat response
Water and food may be a little bread.
Sometimes the bird will talk with you,
What to do when the bird goes away,
Get her stuffed is what I'd say.
Then put her in her old cage,
And say to her every morning "Good morning Sage"
1
HERE ENDS THE BIRDS TALE
46
.
The Pet Of Vaths
.J
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A•
I'm the pet of vaths.
:A
I do not like to take baths.
t:
People from near and far try to guess what I am,
But nobody has gotten it right, but my name is Sam.
A'
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Mean am i not,
..,
But a gerbil I look a lot.
]lie
Don't let me escape, I run really fast,
And I'll be happy that I'm free at last!
If you catch me by my tail you'll be in shock,
My tail will fall off and I might run into a sock.
My hair turns white when I get old,
I can live to be eight I'm told.
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Iam a rodent in case you want to know,
Like a rat or mouse I put on a good show
If I die I recommend one thing,
Bury me, but please don't sing.
I squeak a little if I want to,
j
Run on a wheel I love to do.
Page by
When somebody walks by,
I expect a little "hi"
I get sad when ignored,
Dylan Farque
0
Sometimes I can get very bored.
If you don't know what I am,
I :6
I will tell you what is Sam .
Sam who I is is a Degu,
I hope you like me like I like you.
1
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40
-
One Last Time
By Craig Eads
I once wanted a little man to wish upon but they would always say
that's the last time you'll say that.
Here's what I'd say.
I want a little man to wish upon
and cry upon that will say it's
okay.
I want a little man to lean upon and yell upon.
I want a little man to cry upon because there is only sadness in
this house and this room for I'm the last one to chant this song
because the rest have all gone.
I need a little man to stop the pain. A little man. A little man.
J
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41
Bird Poem
Drawing by Alex Murphy
I am a Raven,
soaring skillfully,
my gaunt, grim silhouette
dodging trees, branches
bare and cold while
t
colourful counterparts
lie on the ground,
dry and crackling
like the Dead
4
on this Halloween night.
I am a turkey,
wobbling between dead,
crumbling stumps, to and fro
I attempt to run from
the Hunters whose
eyes glint hungrily,
Drawing By
scraggly hair matted out at every angle,
Fat bellies bursting out of
Heather Brute.
0
Red, flannel shirts, like
ripe pumpkins.
Suddenly, the Fire comes:
a huge monster-man I
failed to notice leaps out,
a twisted smile playing
1
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4
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2
on his lips.
I manage to teeter towards him,
weak with my new wound
I grope at his muddy pant-leg,
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then grab a chunk of flesh
Y
from the Hunter, blood and denim
.p
mixing in my mouth for a moment.
4
He finally shakes me off, then
.
raises the rifle and-
Iaman Owl,
wise with Time,
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sleeping serenely in a tree.
I am awakened by a group of Carolers,
crunching through
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pure, white, snow
.4
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bright scarves bundled up,
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against their necks.
I hoot once, twice,
three mes, gather up my wings
and fly away, startling
0 ...Cm:h
the Carolers to their
Amazement and Delight.
Page by Amanda Moss and Julia Hill
.
r.-
' '166 0.
-
MIDDLE SCHOOL
By
0 nd
Amanda Moss
I have three /uggling balls,
Juggling around In my head
EXRIS
The first Isnoise.
.
The second Is se•
Ode to the Photograph
.
The third [sthe biggest and
By Rand Biersdorff
Hardest of all
T,ying to learn
Istandonmy
Ove Sle noise and the po./.
Tiptoes
Andfeelforthe
Wooden chest that
Holds so many secrets
My fingers brush against
The box and I have
..06
To make a basketball jump
Inorderto
Grab my treasure
r
I drag the heavy box down
Andsitonthe floor
Iwritemyname
RAND
With my Mnger
Through 3 decades of dust
4
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When I lift the lid
The long trapped air
Breaks free
Through its chains
Into my face
Black and white people
6 4
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With blank stares
Srnile vacantly at me
·
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I wonder what
4
They are thinking as they
Pose for the camera
ar.a
A
Probably not
Thatablonde
11 year old
Will smile back at them
Someday
Drawing By Moksha Rainbowlight
.
layout by Jessica Ingles
43
The
Peterbury
Tales
by David Gallic
6.4
The Dog:
The dog am I who woofs and growls,
The human who is my only pals.
I chase up trees and squirrels and cats,
.
I also tinkle on the welcome mats.
A leash I have when I walk,
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I drag my human if they stop to talk.
My tail wags when I'm not sad,
But then sometimes I get really mad.
'v i '
Ir : ,
I bite kids and parents too,
.4 .
Then they kick me with their shoe.
I whimper and wine until I get my way,
No dog cares what a human has to say.
.
.
Er,·· St
/
.
I do get tired and will sleep by your side,
I just hope you haven't lied.
The time has come to say goodbye,
I'll be back to chew up your tie.
HERE ENDS THE DOG'S TALE
14
The Cat:
Meow, meow is how it will talk,
It will listen with you to the musician Bach.
When the cat gets hungry you will know,
./ 0
.
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It'11 use it' s claws to show.
The cat' s main enemy is the one above,
The dog is the one that will push the cat and shove.
k
If you pat the cat it'11 purr,
There's only one way to rub it's fur.
If you pet the cat wrong it will hit and scratch,
But if you pet the cat right you and it will be a heavenl y match.
The cat loves you no matter what,
But please don't give the cat..well
0000
a cut.
-6»S
HERE ENDS THE CATS TALE
Page by
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44
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Ode to My Bike
1 .1
By Elij ah Buck
Dust falls
From my bike as
Mal
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I caress the dirt
Cartoon/ Caricature by
From his body.
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Dean Stuart
He gleams in the morning
Sun, blue
Like the setting sky.
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Caught in terror
Held in grief
Dead from no sleep
Agonizing, Self relying
Page by Starlight
Alvis
Caug ht in day dreams
Held in belief
Alive with hope
Joy, and happiness
By Jessica York
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Death
By Felicity Rose
If Death was a monster,
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Until it could not rise,
To take another I knew.
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Surrounding us.
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Capturing us,
Keeping us in the place we call Life,
DRAMTIC
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Until it is time for us to pass it,
To enter it.
Drawing by Lisa Edens
A wall,
Piercing in its emptiness,
Unrelenting in its darkness,
Shattering in its light.
47
I go higher than my life,
you shoot me down again
/
I feel like the sun on my heart,
the rays burn right through,
I spin in circles and face you,
....
you look down in shame
your smile makes me swell up,
just don't burst me again
the world around me changes,
I see the stars in the clouds
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you know I'll do it by myself
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As the day ends
Only to be greeted by the days to come
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-Jacque Fitzgerald
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David Bumstead
Zane Hart
Heather Mccov
Daniel Shaw
Amv Coddington
Chelsea Farber .,
Joseph Campos L<
Colin Miller
Anna Casey-Wi_tte
I-*-I.I.-
30
31
Eric Weinerman
John Stokes
Nesa Levy
Jonathan Reeves
Happy Birthdavil!
1 1
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