Matteo Nguyen // SKATEBOARD

The air sizzled like a pan
Beads of sweat traveling down the trails of their backs
Their mouths tasted of salt
Watering at the wafting smell of barbecue

His board snapped at the grainy cement
They watched him like a hawk
He flew like the birds flying over them
His shirt rippling like a wave

His shadow walked down each step
His board was a show of flips
Everything stopped in awe
Slap!

His wheels smacked the ground
He rode on
Whistles and cheers came from everywhere
“Pablo! Pablo! Pablo!”

Faye Lewis // PENCIL

Long and thin
Sharp on one end
But soft and forgiving on the other
Dull
Until sharpened like a blade
Always
Moving, scratching
Along a blank surface.
Filling the page with dark marks
That fade over time
Never permanent
But always powerful

Anmianyao // CATS

I like cats
Regardless of their fur color
I listen out for the cautious footsteps
Or try to capture the unpredictable figures hiding in the dark
They peek into world in the gap of times
and draw footprints under the roof of cement
They stand by the gesture of independence
Without abandoning the ambitions of world

Cats are like me
Or I am like a cat
My heart deep inside yearns to escape the earth
But lack of courage to forgive and forget the world
Balance towards the world
People live with the absolute independence
Only see the endless sparks in the mirror
Secular people see the objects themselves only
And the others observe both
Cat and me
We enjoy the morning warm light
and cross through the charming night breeze

Nothing really matters in this world
As long as cat and me continue
Daydreaming by the groovy stove

Thomas Caouette // ICE COLD

I’m just an object,
A game,
I’m used for entertainment,
I hear them chanting, “Bobby, Bobby, Bobby”,

No one notices me,
Sitting here on this cold ice,
Beaten up by hockey sticks all day,
I may seem tough on the outside,
But what they don’t see,
All the long nights sitting in the bucket, Thinking about the beating i’ll take tomorrow, What they don’t get
Every shot that is fired,
I feel,
While they are busy watching Bobby fly through the air, I trickle out of the net,
Trying to recover from the last shot of the day, Knowing that tomorrow will be the same,
If only they could be puck for a day,
Then they might understand.

Sophia M. // TWO LIVES

A world of color floods leaking eyes
Glossed over by salty tears
That cut canals in his rosy cheeks
Crying due to his now flowering lungs in use for the first
time
Hands clenched together

Mother’s fostering hands tremor above the unseen halo
Tender care given to every movement
Worshipping her new found child of god

A world of war floods leaking eyes
Glossed over with dusty air
Premature due to malnourishment

Above deteriorating beams echoing an infant’s
shrieks
Family gathered in a covering
As a graduating hum of a Gloster SS.37
engine overhead gives them bumps across
their skeletal arms

Mother’s hands push it away
She does not want to know the gender
In her stolid eyes, it is not hers
Unprepared, unwanted, unloved

Family leaves, same size as when entered
Mother slumped over, exhausted, her pain is
also in the heart
Cold wind gusts, broken wings, impeding hums
Broken cries that will remain unattended
Till its death

One birth, contrasts the other
One out of love, one left behind
One baby will be loved and nurtured as it should be
The other will die within days, abandoned

Sheldon Gentling // SEASONS

Summer comes enthusiastically, with warmth. Children’s laughter fills the air.
As I wave a hello to the increasing heat,
the beaming sun rays create reminiscent sadness.

Children’s laughter fills the air.
Before a cold wind blows laughter away.
The once beaming down sun rays created a reminiscent sadness that reflects as the temperature gets lower and lower.

Before a cold wind blows laughter away,
One last joke
Deflecting the decreasing temperature, getting lower and lower. A blanket of dead leaves cover the ground.

One more joke.
Cold nights, and days, and frozen earth.
A blanket of dead leaves cover the ground
As light snow falls.

Colder nights, and days, and even more frozen earth.
The sun is still tucked behind the clouds like a wall As roaring snow falls
the animals prefer to hide away
The sun is no longer tucked behind the clouds like a wall.
The temperature begins to rise.
Maybe time the animals stop hiding away.
I begin to hear a hopeful chirp of birds.

The temperature continues to rise and
The anticipated
hopeful chirp birds
make their serene sound.

The anticipated
Wave hello to the increasing heat
Greets me back gladly.
Summer comes enthusiastically, with warmth.

Santiago Parizek // BEET

I represent god themselves,
and yet nobody knows it.

I was produced by the beings that created the universe,
And i am healthy and full of nutrition.

I am the epitome of perfection,
Not even radishes compare to my will.

I am the the first beet,
that came before beats were considered an element of music.

I prove that by my mere existence I am made of: Sugar,
Water,
Surprisingly few calories,
Very little fat,
4{8f8d4e344c8a972b8e97d55fa7ec8be4d5f796681e06b247e4219849f812f758} Iron,
Vitamin C & B6
9{8f8d4e344c8a972b8e97d55fa7ec8be4d5f796681e06b247e4219849f812f758} potassium
And the very fuel that keeps this planet spinning on its axis and complete full runs across our star.

Richard Chen // NEVER THE SAME

Never the same.
Years ago, on that field, the revolutionary war Sprung up
The first shots,
Fired.
Now, a subject of history,
Tourists are led by men in olden clothes, Triangular hats sitting atop their heads.
I can go to school and learn anything I want Without ever stepping outside the classroom. When I just look around me,
I see people from all around the world,
With their own, different
Cultures, stories,
Ever changing,
Never the same.

Sitting outside,
The trees rustle their leaves, letting me relax. I release all of the stress from the day. Again,
Tomorrow will be
Never the same.

I walk back to my elementary school— Standing there, on the pavement,
I watch my childhood field
Get torn up
Dug up
The rocks that dutifully served as our soccer goals Now a pile of sand,
The playground where I loved to play
Replaced by a big block of metal,
Growing and growing each day.
Soon, it will become a big school,
For those young children
To again kick their soccer balls
And slide down slippery slides.
And when I come back,
It will be
Almost the same.

Pooja Kawatkar // DAY AND NIGHT

My alarm rings at midnight; I am the watcher of the night The sky dark, only lit by the moon’s brilliance
The stars are there too, glimmering oh so bright
Yet the tiny crickets are the loudest in the distance

The rest take a break,
Waiting for daylight to thrive
They know how much heat they’ll create
Once they become alive

My alarm rings at dawn; I wake to its sound
The sky much brighter than before
The stars have disappeared, they’re nowhere around
The sun, too shy before, now the star of the show

The warmth cools down
The light fades away
The birds stop singing, too scared to make a sound
The moon then reappears, as forever it stays

Miguel Caro // THE MYSTERIOUS FLYING VASE

“Oh no”
The vase flew to the ground,
But just as fast
I ran out of the room
Without a sound.

My mom walked in
Smacked her head
The stress she felt seemed to last
But no anger seemed to fester within
Where was I? In the fortress of my bed

She eventually walked in, finding me out
Knowing that I did it, without a doubt

It was just an accident. The wind must have blown it over.
“Forgive me”
Hoping I’d get lucky like a four leaf clover.