Johnathan Dagan // ONLY A PEN?

Can you tell me, dear pen, as I hold you in my hand.
Are you capable of taking me to a long forgotten land?

A cylindrical piece of plastic protecting a tube of ink,
or are you something greater, free to feel and think?

Should I do more with your unrelenting marks?
Tell the tales of warriors or monsters in the dark?

Some believe that you are mightier than a sword,
but I still mindlessly fiddle with you in the times that I am bored.

What are the possibilities? Are there infinite or none?
Should I treat you as what you seem or as a loaded gun?

My internal conversations have gone on for longer than I’d planned, My moral dilemma continues, as I hold you in my hand.

Galaton Z. // POETRY

A poem
is like a can of Coke
The first pop when opening it Mhm, so satisfying
Then the drink itself, as you take sips at a time
Is immensely refreshing.
The can is eye-catching Simple, and timeless

A poem
is like a light flurry
The soft crunch under your feet
The little caress of your cheeks
The peace and quiet of the surroundings
Is like the immersion into a poem

A poem
is like an apple tree
Bearing fruit at the right time
Even if some of it may be hard to reach
It’s all the more satisfying when you do
To grasp the meaning.
Or the fruit, whichever

Or a poem, to some people
Is just blank.
A meaningless
chunk of words
Or just simply
too hard to understand.
Makes sense.
I mean
sometimes that’s me

Tayin D. // A WINDING RIVER

Let them be as hard as stones
Always sturdy, standing tall
But still, and forever cold

I’d rather be a long river
Passive, with clear streams, like shiny ribbons
blowing in the wind
Rapids rushing towards the deep open sea

To have no control, following the path that has already been decided To relax, to just enjoy the ride
To be pushed and pulled by moon and sun
Or to be crashing over rocks, swirling tumbling in a panic

I’d rather be unbothered, and if
Then I am alone
Than to be around still and unfeeling stones
Where they are praised for their rigidity
By those who just watch

I’d rather let everything flow
Than attempt to find footing in the water
If I could carry out my path freely
I’d Rather be a long winding river

Elaine Xu // PARIS

Paris, Oh Paris!

City of Light, “​la Ville Lumière”
Most romantic city,
City of Love,
Most marvelous city in the entire world, Where bad days are cheered up, daydreaming of our perfect life together, what if reality was actually the fake, Where coffee, music, and bright lights All around the city can be found,
and the best frozen hot chocolate, can be found,
the beautiful Eiffel tower, surrounded with all different colors tulips during the spring,
summer,
waking up to
soft and gentle kisses,
and sounds of birds in the trees, chirping outside
outside the bedroom window, the beautiful city,
where couples
hold hands,
while taking romantic walks across the city.
Paris France,
the best city in the world.

JC // HOME

Land of the free
They say
But people are more chained
Home of the brave
They say
But people are still afraid
This paradoxical paradigm
Compels me
To escape
So I board
The aircraft

“Welcome to Korea”

The root of my kinfolk
Significance of origin
Weight of my history
They flood
the inner workings
Of my soul.
An experience
not welcomed
back home
An invitation
Granted
Mere steps down

The diamonds of heritage
Embezzled in
the very land
Of which you feel
With the soles of your feet.
Eat
of the food.
Speak
with your people.
And remember,
Your identity.

Varsha R. // THE EIFFEL TOWER

Take the elevator
And reach the top,
Where the view lays sprawled
Before you.

Walk to the edge,
To the very, very edge.

Lean over,
And have a frightening
Thought,
One that you never
Expected to have.

I could jump.
Right now, I could jump.

Now hope to God
You ́re not crazy
To feel that way.

You ́re not.

The french have a saying for it.
L ́appel du vide.
The call of the void.

It beckons
For your body to
Take control.

But something jerks you back.
It’s your mind.

What a twisted way
To let you know you are
Grateful for the view.

Nora B. // WITH THE FISH

The fish are content
In the small pond
Floating with nothing to do
In circles they go
To and fro
Gliding two by two

How funny they are,
They can’t go far
Stuck in obliviousness
Above on a rock
I sit and I watch
And start to become curious,

The breeze is warm
Shadows form
And the world awaits my return
It can keep waiting
Today I am staying
On my rock to watch the fish

Aylin Bruce // SEVEN-YEAR OLD

Surrounding me are the monsters
The ones that pinch my cheeks
That dig their nails in
Leaving stained crimson on my face
Oblivious to the hot flush of my embarrassment Masked with o​bnoxious​ grins
They pose the grim question:
“What do you want to be when you grow up?”
After an unsettling pause
My tongue pierces the toxic air
“Everything.”
Discordant cackles suffocate me
Roaring louder and louder
Escalating like a symphony
Soon they resume their cryptic conversations
While I sit lonely and stare at my feet
Dangling above the floor
Wondering where Mommy is
Why do they think of me as a fool for my absence of grey hair When we can simply all dance together?
Your scorns
Will dwindle into ashes
For the future belongs to me

Elly Monaco // SKATING COMPETITION

It’s competition time.
The loud, booming noise searched the air
Faces, expression is satisfied and joyful
The rink is brisk
Like the wind on a Novembers day.
Nothing could compare
To the joy we felt after
The scores reflected back.
The bright lights
Illuminating our faces even more than the sun.
The team above us is now second
Because we conquered, I should say.

Hyungbin Kim // THE NIGHT WE MET

Pack up your bags
Gather your thoughts
Go outside and feel the heat

Mixture of red color roaming the street
Hitting their heads on the titanium wall, wishing it to fall
Bottles of alcohol flying the sky
Keeping the fire inside them, ambitioning freedom inside their mind Black crows filling the whole sky
Hold flags to the sky
Until they reaches the clear high sky

Red mixes orange and orange mixes yellow
Tiny flames gather and make disasters of fire
People rush out to the street as the signal of revolt
Fire never go off
Tiny bit of flame rising from the ashes
Get bigger with more flames

Until the corruption falls