On the edge of town was new paradise.
Used cars fly at sunset.
Would you like to get in to see that one?
Yes, Sir! I’d love to!
Alright, no baloney for you.
Jaws stretched, alright I’ll take it!
Bowing mute, watching for weaknesses.
Sign right there and it’s yours!
Thanks! People are nice.
Feel the hot sun on roasted metal.
Then peer out to the streets.
We that die here, hanging like sausages.
Whispering to the Saints,
Hoping they will step in.
Used cars piled like snakes.
Lined up side by side hoping to get some food,
But in the end he ain’t satisfied
Ending up buried by hunger.
Trying to find somewhere to work,
But they are in exile.
Keep it full keep it working
Is what they say,
Their scream piercing nature.
Just hoping someone can step in.

Alex Bailey ’18

The sweet smell of the old streets
Haunts me as I stand in the ignorant world of freedom,
For there is absolutely nothing left of the people in Syria.
One by one, house by house, the whole country fell apart.
On their knees, they beg us please, but we refuse to hear their shouts.
We have bills to pay and work to do,
We have no time for those who dream of finding a way out.
Let them fight their own battles, watch their children die on the streets,
And ride in boats in the middle of the night, and dream of a chance at a better life.
We Americans sit still, contently watching in fear of our own lives,
Yet he who watches the poor man die,
Is guilty himself for the crime.
Deny the access for those who look for refuge and a fresh start,
For isn’t that what that American Dream is all about?

Judy Shamshikh ’18

The truth.
Like cool rain in the desert—
the little person I have buried in the earth of my soul
whose cries reverberate against the brokenness
has stopped fighting the tempest
and stands in awe, motionless,
as the water washes over her, whole.
Cheeks sluiced in tears,
it’s too sweet—
what is this feeling? It has been so long
but I think I can remember.
Words are truly not enough to transcribe
Your mercy

Gabby Villadolid ’17

As black as the night
Fluffy frizzy fur like clouds
Preparing for a rainstorm
Sweet like sugar
With breath that smells
Like the stink of a fish harbor
Innocent energy
Can make a person’s day
Joyful puppy
Lifts spirits everywhere
So dog, oh dog
I love you
Thank you for endless love
And hugs
My little black bear
Bound on

Katie Buntic ’19

Before I put on the helmet, people sum me up using simple terms:
red hair, white, wealthy, privileged
But I am much more than that
Before I get on the bike, you can’t know what makes me, Me.

Throw the leg over, clip the helmet, and
Attention, row!
Push, pull, push, pull, circling up up up the hill
Boom Stroke, One, Two
The bow surges forward
My whole body writhes in pain, but I cannot stop
With the next stroke all the skin tears off my left thumb
The closer I get to top, the harder it is to pedal
Power 10, hardest strokes in two
That’s one, TWO
My body explodes
I exert all the energy I have
I’ve reached the top

Air rushes past my face as I fly down the other side
Kick, snare, kick, snare,
The steady beat pounds out
As I coast to the finish line I can still taste the sweat of the climb
Almost there, the crowd roars in the distance
Drumroll, crash
I soar through the finish line

I jump off my bike,
Home at last,
My true sanctuary, where I can be myself
Shy outside, kind inside
Someone who finds it hard to talk to new people
But once I catch their rhythm I can’t stop
So please talk to me.

Walter Nicolson ’16

All different backgrounds they say we’re the same,
A community united under one name
Guided by our ethics and striving for acceptance
But under the surface it’s not what’s expected.
Divided by popularity, color, and money
Problems are pushed under the rug and it is simply not funny
Building our future on a platform of shame
We witnessed racism and hatred and didn’t place blame.
We turn a blind eye when it comes to college scholarships and donations
Heaven forbid an athlete should leave Wildcat Nation
Parties with themes of hate and exclusion
Full of “ignorant” kids with racial delusions.
Ignorance is no excuse at a college prep school
Where grades for honors and AP classes rule
Some say we are kids who make stupid mistakes
Self-centered teens who don’t know the stakes
Racism is justified by “it’s just what we do”
With no regard for who our actions cut through.
But what is the cost to a truly good person
When problems like this only worsen?
What does it say when we are “with and for others”
But we cannot respect the humanity of our sisters and brothers?
It says that we ignore the impact of our actions
And allows our friends’ cruel behavior to gain traction.
We must practice what we preach
And use empathy for what school doesn’t teach
See equality as a right, and don’t practice “separate but equal”
Foster a future generation that seeks to be peaceful,
Envision a future we wish to create
Not accept racism as our generation’s fate.

Joan Buse ’17

They came in closed cars.
Silent.
For they hated what they had to do.
Caught in something longer than themselves.
Controlled. By the monster.

The pressure is building.
They think; I’m doing something wrong.
God knows. Everyone knows.
But it’s too late.
The monster’s sick.
It can’t wait, it can’t stay one size,
It needs—wants—insists—must have.

What justifies such greed?
Men created it, but they can’t control it.
Just a part of the monster. A robot in the seat.
They were no better.
Loved the land no more than it did.
Controlled by the monster that was stronger than they were.
It doesn’t breath air, it breathes profits.
Robbing the land, sucking all the blood and innocence out of it.
One house after the other.
Like factories.

Something is deeply wrong with this town.
Families no longer fighting to stay in their homes.
Aware that they cannot keep up.
Accepting the traumatic consequences of trusting the monster.
Watching everything they lived for disappear.
Born on the land, worked on it, and died on it.
That’s what made it theirs.
It belongs to the monster now.

Then, everyone leaves.
Nothing is left to remember the town that once was.
As if it never existed.
Completely stripped of all its content.
The land was not loved nor hated, it had no prayers or curses.
A piece of innocence, devoured by man’s greed.
It no longer has a purpose.
It belongs to the monster now.

Natalie Long ’18

Listen my readers and you shall hear
Of my travels far away from here
On the Tenth of April, in a city that thrives
I recorded as I sky-dived
I posted it online for all to see
Comment “goals” and how you “wish you were me”
In the land and sea to the town to-night
I venture about, discovering new things
While you sit alone as your computer clings
To the sheets of your bed, reading this you said,
Sad, whispering “how my dreams are dead”
But you do the same thing ev’ryday
Work, Work, Work making money with no play
Now I know this poem sounds cliché, but go
And do something with your life
Instead of just reading about mine

Ceili Peglar ’18

overpopulation.
individuality.
what we see and what we desire.
not intertwined but standing at opposite ends of the room
refusing to comply but agreeing to live in a world of differences.

you. I know you.
you who sees the world
as both too big and too small.
can you change the world?
will you fall into oblivion or
live on in the books?
the choice is not in the heavens,
but in yourself.
conquer what you can
and I promise,
you will make a difference.

you. I notice you.
you can be whatever
makes you happy.
yes, this overpopulated world is large,
but I recognize you.
you are important to me.
you will defy the odds and conquer this world!
you created this world.
do not let this world
recreate you.

Lauren Cueto ’17

A warm summer breeze flowing through the wind
A dropping sun melts into the ocean
So gorgeous that anyone could get pinned
So powerful it stops any commotion
The golden sand around our feet freezes
The waves on the ocean let out their roar
Beholding a beautiful sight it seizes
The ability to wonder even more
The creations on Earth experience
The wonders and beauties of this planet
So vast, so fair, with the brilliance
Of teeming life that God has planned
To gaze at a sunset and think of this
It’s truly something to have with bliss

Gabriel Terry ’18

Mesh strapped to back
Time pressed
Feet scurry
Flight approaches
Faces interrupt
Don’t look
Ears plugged
Heaven of voices
Mind dancing
Subway vibrates
Breath to breath
Don’t speak
Foot tapping
Numbers glowing
Head glued
Elevator echoes
Heat radiates
Don’t touch
Screens up
Sudoku down
Eyes shut
Lips pressed
Free fidget
Pass along
Just Don’t

Valerie Kau ’16

running through a summer storm
the smell of clean air
whispered secrets among friends
stolen sunglasses
heart-shaped doodles
sunlight on wet skin
laughter in the middle of a song
crying tears for someone else
chaste kisses on cheeks
ocean waves soaking t-shirts
same songs on repeat every night
ditching flip-flops in favor of sand
salty sun-bleached hair
warm tea on cold mornings
lazy piggyback rides
leaning on each-other staring at the sky
taking a million pictures to remember the moments
watching the ever-changing colors of flame
telling all our epic stories, one after another
goofy pranks
the smell of wet grass
laughing until we cry
long sleepless nights
tracing our steps because we got lost
dancing under the light of stars
I remember feeling infinite

Rene Fong ’19

Pound pound my heart takes a hop
as I think how all things could go wrong
I pause and wait for it to stop

My mind absorbs the worst like a mop
All the bad in my head an annoying dong
pound pound my heart takes a hop

Sometimes I feel like I might pop
It’s like the refrain of an annoying song
I pause and wait for it to stop

Rational things just form the top
the list of all the fears is long
pound pound my heart takes a hop

It often makes my stomach drop
but on the outside I look strong
I pause and wait for it to stop

Sometimes it feels so nonstop
and closes in like the sound of the gong
pound pound my heart takes a hop
I pause and wait for it to stop

Katie DeBenedetti ’19

You are spring while I fall.
Preparing for summer while I winter.
Our differences caught in fiery maple leaves,
crackling, strung together in light breezes,
only to fall in a forest and sink in the soil.
For I know we are both beautiful.
And who am I, to restrict such beauty but instead
use my fallen leaves to raise your light of
vibrant green, pastel blossoms.
If not enough, I know that
as the sun travels and pigments mature,
your creations will shift their beauty
to be with me once more.

As done for all existence, it brings me great joy
to know that as I fall to the end of the cycle,
my resurrections remain appreciated
as you create beauty from mine;
as I create beauty from yours.

I wish to greet you, old friend.
To connect the beginning and end of life.
To know if you too grow impatient, like I in summer,
watching, waiting to see what arises from my burnt ashes.
To scan the horizon and see a world of new color.

But to never meet is torture.
For summer and winter are beautiful,
but separate a love like no other.

Lauren Cueto ’17

You have strange abilities to destroy
And innate and strong powers to divide.
Many people have seen their lives lost of joy
Due to the pains you have caused vast and wide.
You are a sickness in society
Stopping at nothing to enforce your will,
Filling people with deep anxiety,
And driving others to brutally kill.
Many know your name of pure obstinance
And refuse to acknowledge your presence.
They will not look at you for one swift glance,
And fight when you’re around to find pleasance.
For you are fear, and while few test your way,
I am your one true foe and will not sway.

Will Lawrence ’18

Oh look up high, the dark sky so bright.
The empty abyss, filled with knowledge and wonder.
A dark brownie sprinkled with powdered sugar.
A velvet coat after a light snowstorm.
This dark sky so bright and grand,
Makes me feel so small down here on land.
I look up high and think to myself,
what’s out there lurking,
looking back at me.
The almighty, know-all, foreseeing God?
Or maybe an alien, with its slimy silk skin.
How a boy can wonder about that dark sky.
Its many stars that illuminate the universe.
Their beams, casting spells that grasp anyone
staring up at them.
And who can forget about our spotlight in the sky,
the Moon.
A devious being who sets the stage for the night to come.
His presence is there not only in the night, but he whispers
his rumored cheese face all throughout the day.
This dark sky so bright,
holds many secrets open to anyone
willing to look for them.

Miles Barrow ’19

Those moments that stay with you all through your life
The ones that keep you up well into the night
The good, the bad, the ugly, the true
The long, the short, the old, the new
These memories hold meaning that runs so deep
The only challenge is: how many can you keep?
I collect memories, not stamps or marbles or shoes
No gadgets or gizmos or thingamabobs will do
No one can take them, they will never be ruined
They seem to be better than whatever you’re doing
You’ll never be out, they’re in constant supply
You’re making some right now you don’t even need to try
Many will tell you not to dwell in the past
And Live in the moment, it may be your last
But what happens when you forget what you’ve done and become
You forget who you are and where you came from

Lauren Sullivan ’18