Watermark 2011

Watermark
2011
Watermark
Pope John Paul II High School
Hyannis, MA
June 2011
Cover photograph by Señorita Kelley
This is the second annual edition of Pope John Paul
II high school’s literary magazine, titled Watermark.
Before you read on, you should know a little about
where the title’s name came from. The title Watermark
hearkens back to older days, and incorporates a variety
of symbolism-both literary and ocean-inspired. What a
fitting title for a publication put out by a school on the
Cape! Watermark has grown significantly in this edition, both in the quality and number of submissions as
well as the amount of students involved in its publication. This was the first year that Creative Writing was
offered at Pope John Paul II High School, and at least
one submission from each student in the course is
featured in Watermark. This edition was lovingly assembled by the three remaining students left in Creative Writing after the seniors graduated. This edition
of Watermark is multi-faceted. The works within the
magazine consist of: short stories, poems, non-fiction
pieces, one-act plays and beautiful artwork.
The Watermark staff thanks all of this year’s contributors for their words and art, plus the administration,
and our angels of digital art (Ms. Kelley and Sean
Banks), for making this literary magazine possible. We
hope you enjoy it!
-The Editors, Watermark 2011
Eric Cabral
Robby Dombrowski
Ali Robert
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Emily Fennucio
Summer Rain
Melody
Liz Rossi
The Reflection
Hannah Dulmaine
Egypt Anika Bieg
Onset Horizons Jeffrey Born
This is War Eric Cabral
Untitled Eric Cabral
Along the Ocean’s Edge Victoria Sirois
The Sonnet of the Spider Cole Conway
Friendship Samantha Mathieu
Daddy’s Princess Samantha Mathieu
Untitled Tatiana Diaz-Lane
Lunchtime Lipo Ali Robert
Untitled Joanna Fernandez
The Stop Emily DeHainut
and Anika Bieg
Collage Poem Untitled
Untitled Kaitlin Pupa
Sean Harrington
Tatiana Diaz-Lane
Depths
Hannah Dulmaine
Eggs Brendan Lawlor
Untitled Cassie VanKleef
Ship Wrecked Hearts
Jeffrey Born
Poema para la clase de Espanole 3
Tyler Botelho
Girl of a Thousand Eyes
Ken Stanley
Break Jacquelyn Fellows
What Brings Two People Together is Not Always What Breaks Them Apart Greta Bieg
The Dying Songbird Christian McCarthy
Reality Is My Anchor; Your Nightmare Is My Ship
Andrew Eddy
The Places I’ve Been Mike Burlingame
A Scurvy Tale Mike Burlingame
Doubt Me Robby Dombrowski
The Tackled Rylan Richard
What is Love?
Greta Bieg
The Fall Anika Bieg
Untitled Tyler Burke
New Hampshire 2010 Sean Banks
Idealist Emily Maguire
Scent
Emily Maguire
Untitled
Patrick Vaughn
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Summer Rain
Melody
The heavy summer air was thick in my lungs
The tears of the sky kissed our freckles
The song inside my heart
Is resounding a melody
Ranging from baritone to soprano
From ledger lines to ledger lines
Though the tempo may change,
The key remains the same.
Listening,
Your song is in the same key
Will you be my harmony?
And we splashed back in agreement,
Liz Rossi
The sky was ready to bust,
So was puberty.
Shoes were an option; fun, a necessity.
A few sprinkles turned to a downpour of laughter.
Sending water bullets soaring up from the ground with one
fierce jump.
My hair clung to my face as I clung to my youth
Little did we know that all rain showers must end.
Emily Fenuccio
Greta Bieg
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The Reflection
Look in the mirror-what do you see?
Is it power, is it truth, is it integrity?
Look in the mirror-what do you see?
Is it control, is it lies, is it reality?
Look in the mirror-what do you see?
Is it happy, is it sad, or is it free?
Look in the mirror-what do you see?
Is the reflection staring back at you who you want to be?
Hannah Dulmaine
Egypt
For justice we fight.
We fight for freedom
And purpose on Earth.
The fight goes on
forever and never dies.
When we stop someone
Starts.
The fight for
What you want comes
From your blood.
To the heart and
Travels through your
Veins to your fingers,
Toes, and head.
Your blood has
All the power.
It keeps us living
Which keeps us fighting.
Although, we say we
Hate fighting. It’s
In us and it is
Us. We are the fight...
So we fight.
Anika Bieg
Josiah Boyar
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Onset Horizons
Into the sea we sail
The water so cold and frail
The sun is fading
And so are we
The sight of us is draining, draining
Battered ships and broken boards
So sick of what my life’s become
So far away from all we know and all we’re ever from
Into Poseiden’s mouth we sail
We can’t escape the wrath
Abandon ship
And sink in the sea
I have no lungs to breathe
As the weight of the world crashes down on me
Looking up to the heavens
As it shines back down on me
My eyes close
My heart sinks 50 fathoms deep
All hands on deck
The captain speaks
Yells the order. Kill at will!!!
The cannons roar
And break down the door
The blood drains on the deck
Off the floor boards and into the seas
The ocean turns red. Red as can be
Screams of grown men
Fill the air
Consumed by the earth
Never to be seen again
Jeffrey Born
This is War
Holding back her tears, afraid as ever, she kissed her husband
goodbye. Her husband just left for the War. Days have passed
since his departure and she begins to grow worried. She hates
the phone. Every time it rings, her heart skips a beat. Not
knowing weather or not this is just a typical phone call, or if it
is the devastating news of her husband’s death frightens her.
Weeks have gone by, now she’s depressed. Having no one to
talk to, no one to comfort her, no one to tell her everything
will be okay makes her sad. Months have passed, and now she
is broken. Yesterday she received the heart-wrenching news of
the death of her beloved husband. She is broken. This is war.
Eric Cabral
Josiah Boyar
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The Earth warms, as the sun rises to the sky.
The day passes,
The sun lulls a sweet goodbye.
You lay in bed
Reminiscing the sweet summer day.
As you gather with your friends and relax by the bay.
You walk along the beach, the water cool between your
toes.
You try to avoid the shells
Some short, like thorns on a rose.
Then you gather around the fire as the night brings in cool
air.
You laugh, joke and relax, living free without a care.
Along the Ocean’s Edge
Along the ocean’s edge I wait.
All time has stopped since you have gone,
To meet the water’s darkest fate.
The gloom of night never to become dawn.
The rolling white caps of the waves,
Are what is left with me.
Nowhere to rest in peaceful graves,
Because you died at sea.
Victoria Sirois
The Earth warms up, as the sun rises to the sky.
The day passes,
The sun lulls a sweet goodbye.
Eric Cabral
Pat Ryan
Eric Cabral
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Ben Gibson
Brendan Mulhearn
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Shane Lawlor
Victoria Sirois
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Caroline Wojciechowicz
Cassie VanKleef
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The Sonnet of the Spider
I spin my web to catch my prey, as I wait, reclined.
Slowly I move around.
Then the flies buzz, they wish to dine,
I dare not make a sound.
Only when one considerate fool,
becomes entranced by my beauty,
does he himself get caught in my spool,
looking, as always, quite fruity.
I make my way over to this thing,
him eager to gaze at my physique.
I move in, so close to him,
that he cannot even speak.
I coddle him with my legs,
and tighten my grip on his flesh.
Until, at last, I give him one final kiss,
Thus entombing him in my mesh.
This may sound odd, but you must understand!
A girl has to maintain her figure.
After all, and most of you can agree, better die with a bang than a
whimper.
Friendship
Friendship has no limitations,
Telling what the other is feeling merely by observations.
A true friend is hard to find,
But you are what I have always had in mind.
You come to my rescue,
Whenever I am feeling blue.
I’m always there for you,
And you the same for me.
I consider you a part of my family tree.
You are the definition of a best friend,
And I know we will have each other until the end.
I love you more than you know,
This for the world to show.
Samantha Mathieu
Cole Conway
Jenna Cornwall
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Joanna Fernandez
Christian Richard
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Daddy’s Princess
My daddy always called me his princess
I dressed up in big poofy dress
Just so I could feel like I was.
I played ring-around-the-rosie
With my brother on one side, and
My stuffed Barney on the other,
Not knowing what the song really meant.
I would sit on my coffee table in my dalmation
printed
dress,
Singing the Beatles, along with my daddy.
When asked who I love I would always say “Daddy.”
I hated walking, my daddy carried me.
My daddy always called me his princess,
And I was.
Samantha Mathieu
Kiley Hoffman
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Kelsey Sabens
Mackenzie Johnson
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Riley Major
“Hello?” Rebecca called out. “Is anyone there?”
It was a Friday night, and she was taking a quick
shower before what was sure to be the biggest party
of the weekend. She was excited, but, as soon as
she had finished her shower, something felt off. No
one else was in the communal shower, which was
definitely not normal, especially before such a huge
party. Rebecca toweled off, grabbed her shower
caddy, and began walking towards the exit. When
she was only a few steps away from the door, all of
the lights turned off.
“What the hell?!” Rebecca exclaimed. She
continued walking in the direction towards the door,
and reached out for the doorknob. However, when
she tried turning it, it wouldn’t budge. “Haha, very
funny,” she remarked sarcastically. “Come unlock the
door. I don’t have time for this tonight.”
There was no answer. The lights remained off, the
bathroom remained eerily silent, and the doorknob
remained unmovable. After a few more attempts
at opening the door and/or finding the light switch,
Rebecca gave up.
“Okay, the joke’s over,” Rebecca sighed in
frustration. “I have things to do and places to be. I
really don’t have time for this.” Once again, there
was no response. But this time, Rebecca heard
someone – or something – breathing in close proximity to her. “Hello? I can hear you. I know you’re
there.”
Rebecca peered into the darkness and continued listening for another sound or some form of indication that someone else was still in the room with
her. The silence in the room was like a heavy blanket, and she longed to hear something – anything –
that would break through the surrounding eeriness.
Enough was enough. Someone was clearly very
bored with their life and had nothing else to do but
mess with her, and Rebecca didn’t have the time or
patience to politely wait for them to stop. She began
walking in the general direction of the other door of
the bathroom, treading slowly as to avoid running
into anything. Suddenly, somewhere in the communal bathroom, a shower turned on. The abrupt burst
of water hitting the floor startled Rebecca.
“What the hell?” Rebecca yelled. “I don’t
know what you’re trying to accomplish here, but the
joke’s over. I’m leaving!”
Her outburst of frustration was met with the
sound of two more showers turning on. The steam
from the showers encircled her, making the air warm
and damp. Rebecca started towards the exit again,
more quickly this time, as someone proceeded to
turn on all the showers in the room. When Rebecca
finally found the doorknob to the opposite entrance,
she found that it too was immovable.
“Open the goddamn door!” Rebecca shouted.
By this time, the steam from all the showers had turned the bathroom into a sauna. Rebecca
wasn’t sure whether the heat she was feeling was
from the steam or her mounting frustration. Just as
she felt she was about to explode, the lights turned
on. Although the immense amount of steam clouded
her vision considerably, Rebecca could make out a
figure emerging through the fog.
About time, Rebecca thought in annoyance.
When the figure had finally made their way
through the steam, Rebecca was relieved to see a
familiar face. Although she was annoyed they had
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decided to play such an obnoxious prank on her,
she was nonetheless glad it wasn’t some serial killer
or someone equally dangerous.
“Oh, it’s you,” Rebecca half-laughed. “You
scared me half to death. I thought…” She trailed off
when she saw the glint of the blade in their hand.
“W-what the hell is that? P-p-put it away. T-that’s
not e-even funny.”
“It’s not supposed to be,” said the figure
with a menacing smirk. And with that, they raised
the shiny silver knife over their head and plunged
it deep into Rebecca’s throat, before she had the
chance to scream – or even react.
As Rebecca hit the floor, clutching her neck
and gasping for air, the figure stood over her, making sure the job was done. It wasn’t until a pool of
Rebecca’s blood began mixing with the hot running
water of the showers that they finally turned to
leave.
∞●∞
It was the second murder on campus in a
week. The first murder, in which Jennifer Evans’s
throat had been violently slashed just days ago,
had been considered an isolated incident up until
Rebecca’s lifeless body was also discovered. Upon
closer examination, the police discovered that the
two college girls’ murders were indeed the work of
the same person. In spite of their attempts to keep
the information on the down low, news of the two
connected murders spread fast. Soon, worried college students swarmed the latest crime scene, desperate for any scrap of information they could get
their hands on. When reporters began showing up
and the crowd began getting out of control, Officer
Nelson decided to hold a press conference to debrief the student body and general public about the
events that had transpired over the past few days.
Although he had held off on holding a conference
after the first murder until the police department had
gotten further in the investigation, the second murder made holding such a conference a necessity. The
possibility of a serial killer on campus was too much
of a threat to ignore.
The next day, thousands of students and a
few lucky reporters with press passes gathered in
the huge college auditorium, waiting to hear the
information they had been seeking since the initial
murder. The usual roar of chatter amongst students
was almost nonexistent; a somber silence filled
the room. Officer Nelson stood behind the podium,
scanned the crowd for a few moments, cleared his
throat, and began speaking.
“I understand that many rumors have been
circulating around about the two crimes that took
place on this campus,” he began. “I’d like to take
this time to clear up any misunderstandings and
help put your minds somewhat at rest. First off, the
murders of Jennifer Evans and Rebecca Clark were
crimes committed by the same person. However,
I do not believe any of you are in any immediate
danger. The crimes were committed in such a way
that leads us to believe these were not random attacks. The killer knew both of these young women
personally and may have harmed them as an act of
vengeance.”
“Does this mean that the killer is still loose on
campus?” a reporter shouted out, notebook in hand.
“We will be taking questions at the end,”
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another officer called back over the worried murmurs of the
crowd.
“Anyway,” Officer Nelson continued, “we are going to do
everything in our power to protect this campus and all its residents. Officers will be stationed around each building on campus
as a security precaution. Instead of walking from building to
building, we encourage you to ride the shuttle busses. If you are
walking, you are encouraged to use the buddy system. Have at
least one other person with you at all times. In addition to these
guidelines, an 11pm curfew will be established. Everyone must
be in their dorm by 11pm at latest, no excuses. Meanwhile, we
will be hard at work gathering evidence, conducting interviews,
and continuing our investigation. Jennifer Evans and Rebecca
Clark’s deaths will not be in vain; we will find who did this and
ensure it will never happen again. We will catch this killer, they
will be brought to justice, and you will all receive the closure you
need.”
A few sobs broke out in the audience, clearly mourners
of the two deceased members of the Westminster College community. Most remained silent, mulling over what the officer had
just told them, but others nervously began talking to each other.
Although they did not show it, the officers were just as anxious
and unsure as they were. They were from the department of a
relatively small area; most of them had never dealt with a crime
of this magnitude before. Officer Nelson cleared his throat again,
then began calling on the reporters, hoping that none of them
would catch onto the fact that he and his department, so far,
had come up empty on any leads. As the question and answer
segment of the conference went on, the murderer caught onto
what the students, faculty, and reporters didn’t: the police had no
leads, suspects, or anything else that would help their investigation.
The cops know nothing. And perhaps, they thought with a
satisfied smile, they never will.
Tatiana Diaz-Lane
Ashley Laird
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Lunchtime Lipo
Setting: David’s Bridal, N.Y.C, Friday May 13th
Characters: Penelope (Bride), Ashley (seamstress)
Props: Wedding dress, scissors, ribbon, lace, glue gun
Plot: Penelope is getting married to her true love Oscar. Today she is going to get her wedding dress at David’s Bridal.
Unfortunately, she encounters many problems with her now
not –fitting dress. The seamstress is now help whatsoever.
On top of it all her wedding is tomorrow.
returns to Penelope) Please follow me to the fitting rooms.
(They walk down a hallway until they reach the farthest
door) Ashley should be waiting for you inside. (Walks
away)
Penelope walks into room tripping over an assortment of
dresses and nearly dodges stepping on a pin cushion.
Ashley: (in an indistinguishable accent) Ah Penny! Hello!
How are my dear?
Penelope: It’s Penelope and I’m goAshley: Well let’s not waste time, go try your dress on! Oh
you will look exquisite!
Penelope walks hurriedly off the busy streets of N.Y.C into
David’s Bridal. The bell dings as the door opens and secretary looks up from desk.
Penelope: Oh Okay. (Starts heading to dressing rooms on
opposite side of room) I’ll just go ov-
Secretary: (in a French accent) Welcome to David’s Bridal.
I’m Chloé. How may I help you?
Ashley: No don’t go that way I didn’t finish cleaning that
side. Go to the changing rooms back the way you came in.
Much cleaner.
Penelope: Yes, I’m here for my 1:00 appointment to get my
wedding dress fitted.
Chloé: Who is your appointment with?
Penelope: Ashley, I think her name was.
Chloé: (Into walkie talkie) Ashley, your 1:00 is here. (At Penelope) If you tell me the item number of your dress I will
get it from the back for you.
Penelope: Oh thank you. It’s 1126743.
Chloé: (writing it down) Okay. (Gets dress from back then
Penelope looks in the direction she was headed then back
to the way she came in. The only difference is that the
unclean side had a few more dresses on the ground and a
few pairs of scissors lying there as well.
Penelope: (trying to be nice) Oh it’s not that messy.
Ashley: (waves it off) Hurry! Hurry! (Gently pushes Penelope into changing room)
Penelope: (while changing) Uhh. Uh Oh.
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Ashley: Everything okay in there dear?
Penelope: I thought I told when my wedding was.
Penelope: Well it seems as though my dress won’t go on
over my hips.
Ashley: You did sweetie. And I’m sorry if you’re upset that
I couldn’t get you in here at the usual six to eight weeks
before the wedding, but when you called I was extremely
busy and couldn’t fit you in ‘till now. You’ll be fine with only
four weeks.
Ashley: Oh I’m sure you just didn’t unlace it all the way.
Open the door and let me help.
Penelope: (opens door while trying to pull dress down over
her hips) This is not good. Bad. Very bad.
Ashley: (tugging at dress) Oh my. Hm. You seem to have
gained a few extra pounds. 10 I would say.
Penelope: (gasps) Excuse me!
Ashley: Only the truth dear. Maybe you should have been
watching what you were eating.
Penelope: (still looking distressed) uhh..
Ashley: If I can’t fix it, I can always send it somewhere…
Penelope: The weddings tomorrow.
Ashley: (stops fiddling with dress and stares at her) Tomorrow.
Penelope: Tomorrow!
Penelope: Well I kinda lost track of time and thought I had
more time than I did and now I am rushing to get everything done.
Ashley: Tomorrow?
Ashley: Tisk Tisk. Maybe a diet could help you lose the
weight you gained in time for the wedding.
Ashley: You are getting married tomorrow.
Penelope: Over night liposuction?
Ashley: (laughs) Sure. Got a million dollars? (Laughs) well
don’t fret, you still have time.
Penelope: uhhh…
Ashley: (fiddling with dress and contemplating what to do)
Something else wrong dear?
Penelope: I am getting married tomorrow.
Penelope: (pause)
Ashley: (pause)
(Dress makes huge ripping noise from the back of the
dress. Dress falls over Penelope’s hips.)
Penelope: Oh. My. God!
Ashley: Your wedding is tomorrow... (Still taking it in)
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Ashley: (finally grasping the situation) Are you crazy?!?! You
are crazy!!!! I don’t know if I can help you! I’m not a miracle
worker!! Do you see miracle worker written on my forehead!! No you don’t!! It’s because I can’t make miracles!!
Penelope: (bawling) Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Just please help.
Ashley: (exasperated sigh) Fine. We’ll see what I can do.
Come with me. (Gently leads her out of the room and onto
the platform in front of the full wall mirror.)
Penelope: (sniffling) What a disaster. I can’t believe I let this
happen!
Ashley: Darling, please don’t cry, I can’t think straight. (Penelope looks ashamed) hmmm… I’ll be right back I have
an idea. (Walks off to other side of room and rummages
through some things on the floor and comes back with scissors, ribbon, and lace.)
Ashley: I didn’t bring my needles over. Here, hold this exactly like this and don’t move! I’ll be right back! (Searches
around room for needles for several minutes) Ugh! I can’t
find them anywhere!
Penelope: (Slightly annoyed) I’m sure you can find needles
somewhere else in this store.
Ashley: And deprive some other seamstress of their needles? Uh uh. Nooo way! They might need them to help a
customer!
Penelope: I’m a customer.
Ashley: But your not Susanne’s customer! Or Natalie’s! Or
Damian's! So you can’t just use their needles! Uh uh. Nooo
way. We’ll just have to find another way to hold your dress
together! (Starts searching around)
Penelope: What are you gonna do?
Penelope: (very annoyed) IT’S JUST NEEDLES!
Ashley: You’ll see! I have a good feeling about this!
Ashley: (stared at Penelope and shakes her head) You just
don’t get it do you?
Penelope: I would like to have some input. It is my dress.
Ashley: Trust me darling!
Penelope: Well I am in no position to refuse help and I don’t
have much to loose, so okay.
Ashley: That’s the spirit! Now let me get started! (She takes
the ribbon and wraps it around Penelope’s waist several
times to cover the top half of the rip.) Oh shoot!
Penelope: What? What’s wrong?!
Penelope: (dumbfounded) You’re—
Ashley: Ah ha! This glue gun will work just fine! (Walks
back to Penelope and plugs in glue gun)
Penelope: You want to glue my wedding dress??
Ashley: Oh relax! It’ll work! (Starts fiddling with dress
again)
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Penelope: I’m not letting you glue my dress! (Gestures at
ribbon) What are you even doing here?! This looks stupid!
Ashley: You were right when you said you are in no position
to refuse help, you know. I know what I’m doing! (Takes
glues gun and glues ribbon to dress)
Penelope: Ahh! Hot!
Ashley: Don’t move then! (picks up lace and glues it to dress
so it makes a train to cover bottom half of the rip) There!
Done!
Penelope: (twirls in front of mirror once, twice, and again,
completely horrified) What have you done?! You could have
just sown it back together! I trusted you!
Ashley: (offended) I made it better! Before it was boring but
now it looks fabulous; because of me!
(Ignores Chloé at the front counter and continues to front
door)
Chloé: Miss is everything alright?
Chloé: (as Penelope is about to walk out the door) Miss!
Penelope: (whips around to face Chloé, one hand on the
door handle) WHAT?
Chloé: (now scared) Uhh. You are going to need to pay
for your dress.
Penelope: UGH! (Turns and walks out the door and bell
dings)
Ali Robert
Penelope: It’s my wedding dress, for my wedding! Not yours,
(in a mocking voice) or Susanne’s! Or Natalie’s! Or Damian’s!
You can’t just ruin my wedding dress like this! (Completely
outraged) I paid so much money! And for this?!
Ashley: I was helping you!
Penelope: No! You were helping yourself! You’re the crazy
one! You know what? I’ll fix it myself! (Starts walking out of
room then whips around) I am reporting you too! (Gestures
to room) This is unsafe and unsanitary! I am disgusted!
(Storms out of room still wearing dress and slams door)
Ashley: (calls out after her) Wait no!! Come back! I can fix it!
I’m sorry! Penelope!!
(Penelope continues storming down hallway to entrance)
Chloé: Hello Miss. Did Ashley fit your dress for you?
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Chorus:
Strange means unusual
Jaded; delusional
Boy you’ve got nothing on
Everything I’ve seen
I’ve started fires on bridges
Smoothed the rough around ridges
Made a few bets and won
If you know what I mean
I try to keep some rhythm in life where no one counts
I like to keep tabs but boy I hate amounts
Man, how I like loving
But how I hate to like
There’s no green blue purple red orange
just black and then there’s white
You say that I’m a pessimist but hey-I’m just doing
math
So shut your mouth, close your doors
Turn off the lights, get on the floor
You better watch out because I’m starting to think
Rationalistically
While I’m on a roll, I’ll continue to speculate
Why I hate to love
And how much I love to hate
It’s not because I’m angry-Lord knows I love to laugh
I believe it’s because, plain and simply I’m no draft
So explain yourself quickly-explain yourself fast
And while you’re at it make it interesting my short
term memories not bound to last
Joanna Fernandez
I’m ill, no more I’m empty than that jar filled with half
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The Stop
All the lies that you know
I’m the stop to your flow
The ones that bring you shame,
The umbrella to your rain,
Are the reasons you’re so low.
All the lies that you know
You act as if I’m your foe
And why your sadness came
Are the reason you’re so low.
Emily DeHainut and Anika Bieg
All the lies that you know.
It’s like your putting on a show
To take hold of the fame,
This is the reason you’re so low.
All I want to say is no
Because you’re acting as if you’re tame,
Because of all the lies you know.
You walk around with a glow
John Kent
Like I’m the one to blame,
These are the reasons you’re so low.
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In Semester One of Creative Writing, students were
given the task of creating a poem using only text
that they found in newspapers - either headlines or
phrases, advertisements or section headings.
This poem, “written” by Kaitlin Pupa, is one result
of that activity...
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Leandra Smith
Antonio Marcantonio
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Caroline Wojciechowicz
John Neal
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Joe Stickney
Greta Bieg
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Get up right now
Get off the floor
Have you forgotten
What you’re fighting for?
Don’t you dare back down
Don’t you dare complain
Don’t ever surrender
Especially to pain
You cannot loose
Not before your last breath
You will have victory
Or you will have death
You wont retreat! You wont quit!
Get up off your knees
The body can shatter
But the fighting spirit never flees
It’s a little death, don’t you know?
If you see how far you’ll go
To save yourself or save a friend
You’ll sell out and your soul will rend
You’ll justify, say it’s alright
Fact is you gave up, you wouldn’t fight.
Sean Harrington
Why do I feel this way?
I’m not supposed to care.
I’m not supposed to fall in love.
It really isn’t fair.
Love is a sign of weakness,
And I just want to be strong.
Yet when you hold me in your arms,
I feel like that’s where i belong.
At night, I wait by the phone,
Longing to hear your voice.
And when you call as always,
We talk for hours and I rejoice.
This poem just sounds so corny
Because I never write poetry.
It’s like my heart’s been locked forever,
But you opened it with a key.
I can’t stop thinking about us,
And I just wish you could see,
Without me saying anything
About how we’re meant to be.
I know you truly love me,
But honestly- I’m scared
That you’ll manage to break my heart
For which I’m just so unprepared.
I fancied myself a heartbreaker,
But now I’m at risk too
For having my heart stomped on
And broken into two.
I thought I was exempt
From this kind of think.
But now I’m browsing Tiffany’s
And looking for engagement rings.
Tatiana Diaz-Lane
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Depths
Nights felt so long, I waited for morning sun
kept thinkin’ ‘bout my past, how things used to be
Days dragged on and on, wanted night to come
I couldn’t stand to face all the hurt that he had done
without any warning, he quickly slipped away from me
Nights felt so long, waited for morning sun
I sank to depths so deep, thought I’d never overcome
Darkness surrounded me, it was all that I could see
Days dragged on and on, wanted night to come
He said it was final, something that couldn’t be undone.
Yet still I held on, us together was my plea
Nights felt so long, waited for morning sun
The shadows that followed me, I could not outrun
I was consumed, convinced nothing could set me free
Days dragged on and on, wanted night to come
Couldn’t get over this love, thought he was the one
Traveld far from home, was a stranger to the sea
Nights felt so long, waited for morning sun
Days dragged on and on, wanted night to come
Hannah Dulmaine
Josiah Boyar
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Eggs
I’d really like an egg
I cook them in a pan
There’s shaking in my leg
Sean eats them with Meg
So Tatiana hits him with a van
I’d really like an egg
I eat them with Craig
But instead I get hit with a can
There’s shaking in my leg
I need to talk to the man
I’d really like an egg
But I really dont want to beg
The man’s name was Dan
There’s shaking in my leg
My leg finally broke and now I need a pirate peg
Now I can’t move so I sit in the sun and tan
I’d really like an egg
There’s shaking in my leg
Brendan Lawlor
I wish I could erase, the painful peace less past,
The memories are stained, into the borders of my brain.
At night they wash upon me, with an awful icy blast,
I try to drive them all away, but nothing breaks the chain.
The tears, they flow like a steady stream, no longer can I
hold them,
Repressed for many years – they surmount the walls I’ve
built.
Now alone I stand, free from you who will condemn,
All that you have left behind is a nauseous sense of guilt.
An emptiness fills my soul, a longing I’ve never known
I’ll spend my life time searching, for that solitary something,
I’ve tried so many things, to ease my aching heart, like slicing through skin and bone.
Often leaving me abandoned, with an awful disdainful sting.
In the end I will be okay,
I’ve always found a way.
Cassie VanKleef
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Ship Wrecked Hearts
We sit here
as I hold you tight
counting down the minutes til night
5, 4, 3, 2, 1
the moon shines so bright
not another soul insight
I’ll comeback to the very same place that started us
the place that brought us our lust
I sit here in the same spot
and I hear your voice in the wind
I remember as the moonlight shined
The waves crash on the shore
theres nothing, nothing more
I could ever ask for
I held you close
telling you I’d never let you go
come to show. I didnt know how hard it was
to keep you close
The light house guides the ships
ships that carry two hearts
that got lost on a journey
and traveled so far apart
When we are done
and so far gone
I will come back to this spot
and remember all our thoughts
everything you told me- all I ever wanted to hear
and I told you my deepest darkest fears
I might not be able to speak to you again
but for now, this will be it
so I’ll close it by telling you
by promising you
I’ll remember everything
and I will always
<3
Jeffrey Born
We could be considered two ship wrecks
siply fasing in the sandy depths
trying to find a home
with no path for us to be shown
We got caught up in the moment
making promises we wouldnt keep
these days are so hard
and I could barely sleep
Joe Stickney
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Poema para la clase de Español 3
¿Me faltas también?
Do you miss me too?
Faltándote es como
Missing you is like
escribir con un
writing with a
lápiz roto;
broken pencil;
sin sentido.
pointless.
Amándote es como
Loving you is like
dibujar con un
drawing with a
lápiz de color,
colored pencil,
lo más brillante
the brightest thing
para hacer.
to do.
Peleando contigo
es como un
conductor borracho,
sin cuidado.
Fighting with you
is like a
drunk driver,
wreckless.
Cuando estás cerca,
mi cuerpo
entero
lo sabe.
When you are near,
my whole body
knows it.
Tyler Botelho
Girl of a Thousand Eyes
Girl of a thousand eyes
Girl of a thousand tries
From boys eager with hope
But end in feeling like a dope
So tricky not to stare
When you have such flair
For leaving us asking how
And the audience gasping wow
To your beauty we fall prey
Failed advances ruin the day
To me you are a piece of art
Any chances you’d thwart
A piece of art no one shall touch
The slightest-it’d be too much
While others deeply gaze
And fall into your maze
I watch from afar
Sit back and watch like the stars
There I can have my dream
You wear a smile, your eyes they beam
So confident, with trust
In my life she’s a must
But no where near the center
From heaven, god has sent her
Girl of a million eyes
They’ll keep and follow your eyes
They’ll make a million tries
Because you, you mesmerize
My love for you growing
But it’s not showing
Antonia Boyar
Ken Stanley
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Break
A fence that you put up.
A chain that holds me back.
A link that will forever be known as the weakest.
A game to be played.
A solution made.
An instance that could have never been fortold.
A fence cemented into place.
A spade hovers above my chain.
So break! I command you. Break! See what I can do.
A fence that I put up.
A fence you were able to tear down.
A chain that holds me back.
A hand to let that chain go slack.
A link, that was once intact,
Now broken.
Jacquelyn Fellows
Joanna Fernandez
What Brings Two People Together is Not Always What Breaks Them Apart
*David Blaine and his jock friend are driving to White Castle.
Blaine: What are you going to get?
Jock: Probably about 20 burgers, you?
Blaine: Well, since I dont go to the gym 24/7 and it’s very
difficult to “magic” away all of the fat, I’ll probably have the salad...
Jock: Why are we friends again?
Blaine: We have similar taste in women and enjoy arguing with
each other.
Jock: Oh yeah.
*Car breaks down in middle of nowhere. They get out and start
trying to fix it.
Blaine: Dang!, this would happen. I didnt pray to Satan enough
again.
Jock: Hey, its fine. I’ll fix it, since I’m a real man.
* The jock flexes his muscles.
Blaine: Hah! I’ll fix it with magic.
*They both attempt to fix the car, arguing as they try to figure out what
exactly went wrong. All of a sudden they are surrounded by canibals.
Jock: Where the hell did these hungry things come from?!?
*The cannibals begin attacking them, each attempting to fight them off
with very different methods.
Blaine: Stop hitting them with the tire jack and help me chant!
Jock: Like thats doing anything! I’m amazed you still have your lips!
Pick up that crowbar and start bashing heads like a real man.
*They keep fighting the cannibals, but obviously Blaine gets more and
more wounded, and the Jock is too busy saving himself to come to Blaines
rescue. Thus, Blaine dies.
Jock: I’m coming David! These cannibals are no match for my
brawn. David? Crap!, now how am I going to hook up with easy
gothic chicks?
Greta Bieg
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The Dying Songbird
A young girl, blinded by lust.
Big brown eyes laced with dust.
Her voice fades away, the cries for help aren’t heard.
She thinks she knows, the dying songbird.
Succumbing to the dark, she needs a light.
Not really a big one, just a little bright.
Alone she stands, the fear is growing.
No pain, no feeling, at least she’s showing.
An angel stands by, waiting for her hand.
It seems she’s stuck, in dangerous sinking sand.
She wants love, to be reassured.
No one will listen to the dying songbird.
As years will pass, the pain will numb,
A child in her arms, an act of dumb.
She stands alone, despite being surrounded.
Upstairs, upset and eternally grounded.
If only she’d have listened, if only she cared.
If only she’d let the pain be shared.
But now she’s alone, her cries go unheard,
the faint, raspy voice of a dying songbird.
Reality Is My Anchor; Your Nightmare Is My Ship
Open seas and endless skies, is what I see in your mind’s eye.
The men I walk with shout goodbyes, as if they will be back in due time.
Their wives will watch for the safe return of our ship, lit by lanterns.
Crash and splash the waves of white, upon the receding shore, day and night.
May Poseidon watch our stalwart march, toward the sea under the moon’s crescent arch.
Like contrast in elegant art, he decides to have a change in heart.
Waves rise up from calm waters, to gree and meet our alma maters.
Abandon ship, to your small life raft, that you have made with your own minds’ craft.
Back and forth, it seems you sway, as if you and the ship are one in the same.
Out of control it has become, you and your nightmare are now one.
I watch as men break down in tears, but the sounds have fallen upon deaf ears.
The sight I witness that you have created, has been done before; it has been outdated.
I walk the deck through the havoc and chaos; the men scream for their lives, Please dont take us!
I stand before you with an austere stare, and you look up from your feet and...
We are back, and you are awake.
Andrew Eddy
Christian McCarthy
John Neal
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The places I’ve been
A Scurvy Tale
18 Pineneedle Path, my hone for many years, the home where I
chose to go to Pope John Paul II High School
13009 Debarr Lane, Austin Texas, staying out with friends till the
wee hours in the morning, and biking to school
67 Uncle Barneys Road, West Dennis Ma, beach, boating, driving
the corvette, spending time with family
555 Park Shore Drive, Naples Fl, palm trees, warm weather,
amazing beaches, and just running
Greensboro, NC, the apartment complexes, and going to the
stream after it rained to try and catch turtles
Raleigh NC, where I learned to ride a bike, seeing white squirrels, and playing cops and robbers
13 Capt. Freemans Road, Yarmouth MA, where I got my bike
and had my first birthday
The places I’ve been and the Memories I’ve lived
Captain Burly- A large, unintelligent man who is a pirate
Sneaky Pete- He is a smart guy who is very clever
CB- Why me sea dogs be laying when they should be a rowin’?
SP- It be mine supposition that a pox be the causin’ of yee listless company.
CB- Ehh, what you mean boy?
SP- They be sick sir!
CB- What be wrong with me crew?
SP- Scorbutic Collagen, well I’d say scorbutic lethargy Collagen
Deficiency sir.
CB- What’s with your entire gibberish boy? Speak normally!
SP- Scurvy sir, it be Scurvy.
CB- How do we go about the scurvy?
SP- We need to administer citrus; lemons, oranges, other fruit
of that manor
CB- Do we just feed it to emmm?
SP- No, it will take to long.. if only we had a faster way..
CB- YARG!!! Me load me blunderbuss full o lemons, and blast
ye scurvy to Davey Jones Locker!!!!
Mike Burlingame
Mike Burlingame
Shannon Murphy
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Doubt Me
The Tackled (Sight)
Doubt me
It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,
hundreds of eyes watching me,
thinking in their heads that I’ve got nothing more.
His feet give out under him,
He flies like a ragdoll throught the air,
His spit and beads of sweat still afloat,
Eyes closed,
Mouth guard fallen out
He lands on the ground motionless
Doubt me
I’ve already come this far,
it’s fine if that’s your opinion of me,
but honestly I’m more like a star.
Doubt me
You say thats all I’ll ever give,
and it’s all because I’m me,
but I’ve got more dreams to live.
Doubt me
You cant hold me down forever,
I’m me and I will always be me,
I can only thank you for the kind endevour.
Robby Dombrowski
Anthony
Marcantonio
The Tackled (Sound)
The crackle of the pads,
Like crushing a car,
Graoning from pain,
Ribs snapping, growling from strength,
Clacking,
From screaming you can tell,
He’s going through hell,
People cheering,
The player got tackled,
And then,
The sound of jaws dropping
Rylan Richard
Andrew Eddy
The Fall
I’m a deer enthusiast and the prettiest deer ran by me on
the way to work. I stopped my car and chased it through
a patch of woods. I stopped short and went flying forward
with momentum. Hurdling down the cliff I woke up with a
jolt and realized...
I wasn’t dreaming.
Sean Banks
Anika Bieg
What is Love?
When I couldnt write a poem about it
I figured my creative juices were trying to tell me somethingEither
I knew what it was
But was afraid to delve into the subject;
I know what it was
But am afraid a poem will jinx it;
Or I have never known what it is
But dont feel the indecency to pretend.
Perhaps the rain is at fault,
And I need the sun to awaken me.
More likely it’s my chronic skepticism
Thats keeping me in the figurative “dark.”
But I can’t shake the feeling
That it’s not the past
Or the weather
Causing the hiatus in my heart.
For if I could spend one day with himWith youI could write pages.
Greta Bieg
John Farrington
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New Hampshire 2010
Came falling, heard the calling.
Came to be what no one could see.
On one rather cold February vacation, Tyler Burke and I went to
his grandmother’s cottage in New Hampshire to spend three days
in the mountains of New London and Lebanon. On the three and
a half hour car ride down to NH, Tyler’s sister Maggie and her best
friend Sabrina took pictures obnoxiously with their flash cameras,
while Tyler and I listened to Avenged Sevenfold and Hollywood
Undead trying our best to ignore the spontaneous and continuous
flashes. We stopped at a rest area to stretch and use the restrooms. Little did Maggie and Sabrina know, Tyler and I were plotting our masterful payback for the constant flash photography in
the seats next to us.
Maggie just bought a bag of Fritos to munch on for the rest of the
car ride, and Tyler and I bought monsters and 2nd degree burn
Doritos. On our way back to the car, Tyler’s mom was still in the
bathroom giving Tyler and I the perfect opportunity for vengeance.
Tyler snuck up from behind his sister and stole her unopened bag
of chippy deliciousness and ran away from her. As she was chasing
after him I ran next to them with my hands up awaiting the pass
from Tyler. He passed me the Fritos and I ran the opposite direction avoiding his sister. This went on for a good five minutes until
we made a fare trade, no more pictures in exchange for the Fritos.
After this was finished Tyler’s mother unlocked the car and we all
scrambled in trying to avoid the middle seat in the back of the
car because it gives one horrendous butt cramps. Tyler got stuck
with the pain in the butt seat… literally! Once we got to Tyler’s
grandmother’s house we ran inside to claim our beds. Tyler and I
got the good beds leaving Maggie and Sabrina with the squeaky
uncomfortable beds! There was still a couple hours of daylight left
so of course, we had to find something to do that was entertaining
enough for the rest of the day.
Maggie and Sabrina were being bums so they decided to be boring
and watch T.V. This was definitely not fun for Tyler and I. We went
outside to roam the forest in his grandmother’s backyard. We came
upon a stream in which a large supply of crawfish lived. Tyler then
decided that we should try to catch them so I went along with the
Live to die, enternal life.
Tried to end this social strife.
Open heart, open wings.
Love and care is what I bring.
You see the girl you want to love.
I try to help, it only ends.
What isn’t true, but what isn’t fake.
This opportunity is yours to take.
Angels, angels one and all.
I came here, answered the call.
No one can see what isn’t there.
All is fixed with no despair.
I plant the seed which you must grow.
Left with wisdom for all to know.
Tyler Burke
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idea and we proceeded to be pinched and clawed without catching
one crawfish. We then gave up and went out to dinner where we
were quite entertained by the fat people eating pasta at the table
next to us. The day ended and night came upon us so we went
back to the house and watched Death Race.
The next morning Tyler and I spent the whole day exploring the
forest pushing boulders and tree stumps down a massive hill into
the stream. This was enough fun to last us the whole day until yet
again, we went out to eat. It was prom time in New London, NH
that night so we were bombarded with girls and boys in dresses
and tuxes every color of the rainbow. After waiting a good hour
for our meal, my steak finally came. I got my fork and knife ready
and I was just about to go to town on this nice juicy steak until I
realized there was no steak sauce. I then asked the waitress if she
could get me some A1 steak sauce. I was flabbergasted when she
replied, “What’s that?” I was about to get up and leave when I said
it’s a spicy steak sauce!!! She could tell that I was not happy with
the lack of steak sauce knowledge so she went to the head chef
and told him that I wanted steak sauce.
After ten minutes had passed the chef walked out with a steamy
cup of homemade steak sauce that was better than any other
steak sauce I had ever tasted. I devoured my t-bone Angus steak
in minutes and thus, it was time for desert. Everyone knows that
no matter how full you feel, as soon as dinner is over, and you hear
the word desert, you are instantaneously not hungry anymore. We
all then ordered everything we could think of. I had two pieces of
the best cheesecake my mouth had ever tasted. Full and exhausted, we all went back to the house and yet again, Tyler and I went
to the stream to try and catch the crawfish.
This time, however, we came prepared. We were going to show
those crawfish who was boss. We armed ourselves with pasta
strainers, flashlights, and tongs. This ended in a demolition derby
of crawfish catching and we were then satisfied. We took our
bucket of creatures back to the house for bragging rights. We got
our ten minutes of glory until the basking was put to a stop when
we were told to put them back where we found them. Devastated
and demoralized, we set our trophies back where we had caught
them swearing to them that we would be back one day to catch
them again.
At the end of our last day in the mountains of New Hampshire,
we were packing the car when Maggie took a picture. Tyler and I
chased after her and took her snacks for the ride home to ensure
that there would be no picture taking on the long trip back home.
Stuck with the butt cramp seat, I was dared by Tyler to eat five
2nd degree burn chips without drinking anything. I accepted the
challenge and ate the chips. My mouth felt like someone poured
gasoline in my mouth and set it on fire. The pain lasted all three
hours of the ride back, but I took it like a champ and won the
dare. Sad and depressed that our journeys were over, I got out
of the car and proceeded to my own house. Tyler yelled after me
and said, ‘Just wait until this April vacation!”…. To be continued.
Sean Banks
James Tierney
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Idealist
Fairies, ponies, dragons and wizards
Eating hot dogs and DQ blizzards
A world of magic at my fingertips
Sparkly pink lipstick on my lips
I used to run around my neighborhood
Misinterpreting the world as pure and good
Casting spells with my magic wand
Over this the neighborhood gang would bond
In my world of Pokémon
Things were perfect from duck to dawn
Scent
Once musky, mildew, a scent of potent mold
Now fresh fruit roams my nose
You’re ever changing just like the weather
You’ve endured the rain, the sleet, the snow
You take me everywhere I need to go
Every day is something new
But regardless of your stench, I’ll always love you.
Emily Maguire
Antonia Boyar
I drove slowly down the street. I’d passed it a million
times but I never had stopped and taken the time to distinguish its features. I passed by the post office and the shoe
store on the corner. Now it was foreign and unfamiliar, and
I wished it would stretch on for another hundred miles or
so. I looked over at my younger brother’s face. He sat there
trying to pick out faces, buildings, or anything familiar out
the window, his blank expression unrevealing, but I knew he
was nervous too.
It’s not like I was new at this. I’d switched schools
four or five times already, so I’d had practice. I knew it
wouldn’t be harder this time around, but changing schools is
never easy. I think substituting worlds for schools would be
more appropriate.
I was looking for a break and a fresh start, something I was
told I had gotten before, but in the last two years, I had
never seen it. At school, I’d spent them looking for friends
and a place to feel at home, but I realized that nobody really
had friends, and nobody really felt at home. The school I’d
gone to was supposed to be the answer; it was supposed to
make me feel happy about going to school again. I wasn’t
happy, but I’d survived, and there were many people I knew
who hadn’t. Friends had disappeared, often broken and
emotionally shattered, and I’d stopped wondering where
they went. There was always an excuse, but they all left for
the same reason; to get away.
They had tested me; pushed me to the ground to
see how many times I would get back up again; to see who
would lead, and who would follow. I was in with the academic elite, those who had committed to uphold the school’s
four pillars of respect, honesty, scholarship, and compassion.
I strongly supported these core virtues, yet I was sickened
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by how quickly they were abused and twisted, tossed aside
by my classmates, and overlooked by those who were supposed to set the examples for the school.
I will never forget one of the saddest experiences I
had facing this. The tennis team was coming home from
a match one day late in the spring and spirits were high
over our undefeated winning streak. I was sitting near my
friend, who was laughing along with everyone else. Easter
had just come and gone, as well as Passover for my friend. I
remember the horror on my face when the joking suddenly
turned anti-Semitic. One joke became many, and a teammate proposed that they should have a contest to make the
harshest one. They were no longer jokes. I suddenly saw my
teammates turning into monsters before my eyes. I knew
it was wrong, but I felt trapped and unsure about how to
stop them. All I could do was watch my friend slump down
in his seat and cover the tear that rolled across his cheek. I
sat there, in the grimy yellow bus seat, angry at them and
at myself. We were all friends, how could they do this? How
could I do nothing? I was alone there and in my thoughts,
and distraught at the realization of how helpless I felt.
The experience had changed me, molded me, refined me, and given me a sharp edge that would strike at
whoever appeared as threatening. I am not always proud
of that edge, but I have seen what it is like to be defenseless. I never thought I’d think of a school as a warzone,
but everyday there were battles; there were only allies and
enemies, with no room for friends. At last, I was coming to a
new school. I knew no one should see this where I was going, and very few would believe me anyways. I hid the truth
behind the stereotypes of what everyone thought the private
school would be like. I had always known that high school
is supposed to change you. So far, it had only left me with
scars and bitterness.
I made the final turn onto the street. Pope John Paul II
High School stood tall and welcoming at the end of the road.
As soon as I got to the stop sign, I realized that I had taken
the wrong turn. A steady line of cars on either side blocked
my view, and it was impossible to turn right. Now my brother
and I looked at each other nervously, and I think the phrase,
“We’re not in Kansas anymore,” really applied to both of us,
even though we were coming from two different schools. I
also realized something else; there was no turning back now.
In the distance, the statue of John Paul II, a symbol of gentle
kindness, was beckoning us forward. However, my uncertainty
was holding me back.
So caught up in what to do, I didn’t even notice that I’d
walked into the school and gone on to my own locker without
my brother. It was his first day of high school, and I felt the
need to look after him. What if he was lost? In a swarm of
students and teachers, I’d lost my little brother. How could this
happen? He was completely on his own now, and so was I.
I turned my focus back to the wheel on my locker and
stared into the gaping pit at the bottom. When I started back
down the hallway, I was unbelievably happy to see some
familiar faces, and a couple of smiles I had never gotten to
see from behind their football helmets. We all walked down
the stairs and my eyes began to see and explore the school in
a new light. From every corner people poured into the auditorium and took their seats like clockwork, as if it had been
rehearsed weeks before. I sat through announcements and
began to wonder how the day would play out. I’d been here
before two years ago, sitting in announcements on the first
day of school just like this. However, the warm and enthusiastic atmosphere in the room quickly put the thought out of
my mind. It was easy to tell that the laughs and smiles were
genuine. Maybe this time would be different, I thought. Maybe
this is what it’s supposed to feel like.
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When I walked into my house later that night after
football, dirty, bruised, and mentally exhausted, I was smiling. It had been my first real day at high school, and I had
a good feeling. I had opened myself to the possibility that I
could have real friends. The four pillars may have been a lie,
but the virtues they had mistreated were alive and an essential part of the community I had so newly become a part
of. I was no longer swimming with the sharks; I was hanging
out with friends and making new ones every day.
Everyday I wonder what it would be like if I had
stayed at my previous school. Would I even recognize myself? Would I see a monster? I was given a second chance
to have a fresh start, and I plan to use it. I’ve learned that
accepting things when you believe you can’t change anything is wrong, and worse; it will destroy you. There will
always be an opportunity to make a change; you just have
to be open to finding it. High school is supposed to change
you. Only time can tell, but I think I can already safely say,
I’m going to feel at home.
Patrick Vaughn
Contributor Biographies
Sean Banks is a member of the class of 2012. He loves being wild and
having a good time, no matter what. He loves football and spending
time with his friends as much as possible.
Anika Bieg is a freshman at PJP. In her free time she spends time with
her recently graduated sister and makes cookies.
Greta Bieg is an avid book junkie who is unconcerned with the fact that
this passion will likely not pay her future, rather exorbitant, college bills.
She will be attending Union College in the fall, and hopes desperately
to have a class as stimulating as Creative Writing (both semesters!) has
been.
Jeffrey Born is a member of the class of 2012. He is not really an
emotional guy unless he is writing poetry. He loves football with a passion and loves to have fun
Tyler Burke loves poetry. Burke does work and always will. What a silly
goose.
Eric Cabral is a member of the class of 2013. Most of Eric’s free time
consists of either practicing or playing soccer, but he enjoys writing and
reading when he has some extra time on his hands. Eric takes all of his
school work very seriously, but he loves to laugh and have a good time
while doing it.
Tatiana Diaz-Lane is a graduate of Pope John Paul II High School. Her
hobbies include singing, shopping, writing, acting, and styling people
who were cursed with a bad fashion sense. She looks forward to moving
to New York City in the near future so she may turn one of her hobbies
into an established career.
Robby Dombrowski is a member of the class of 2012. Robby loves to
play football and baseball as well as hanging out with friends. Robby
says that his dogs Annie and Jake are awesome. Robby also enjoys
“shredding some narr” while snowboarding in the winter.
Emily Fenuccio, a recent graduate of the class of 2011, loves to read
and write, as well as play soccer and participate in the many theatrical
productions that grace the PJP2hs stage. Emily looks forward to being
a UVM catamount for the next four years!
Joanna Fernandez is a member of the class of 2013. She doesn’t like
words, but revels in them. She appreciates craziness, being insane
herself sometimes, and loves art above anything else in the world.
Brendan Lawlor is the coolest kid in the school :D. He likes to play
basketball. He likes to go to the beach, and stuff like that :p. And he
likes eggs.
Christian McCarthy is a seventeen-going-on-eighteen year old male
who likes long walks on the beach. He’s so excited for the completion
of yet another wonderful literary magazine with the English goddess
Ms. Frega. He enjoys acting, singing, song writing, writing, reading,
dancing on the street randomly, petting animals at zoos, and jumping
on furniture.
Ali Robert is 17 years old and enjoys reading, writing, cheering, and
spending time with her friends. She has never actually been to David’s
Bridal but hopes that if she does go this doesn’t happen to her!
Victoria Sirois is currently a Sophomore this year at PJP2. She loves
to write poetry and spend time journaling. She gets most of her inspirations from nature and people around her, and she is taking a summer writing class to help practice when not in school. Victoria also
likes to spend time practicing guitar and playing with her two slobbery
puppies, Abu and Jazmine.
Ken Stanley, a rising senior, has written poetry for three years. He
likes to write about topics he is passionate about, such as football and
relationships. He is also a Jets fan.
Andrew Eddy is in the class of 2012. His junior year has been one of
the best years of his life.
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