Shimmering,
Shining,
SIzzling,
The touch of summer’s golden sun,
Making the air glisten with fun,
Warm nights,
Beautiful sights,
Short grass and sand,
Cover the land,
Under my feet,
I can feel the blaze of heat,
Endless days,
A daily adventure is a maze,
On a summer day there is anything you can do,
The season brings so many options for you,
Living life stress free,
Can’t help feel anything but me,
Drip
Drip
Drip,
The sound my body makes as I leave my pool,
The water is a refreshing feel of cool,
Blue skies,
The buzzing of fireflies,
No season I’d rather be in,
Because summer feels like the ultimate win,
Sophie Dwyer // SUMMER
Lluvia Brambila // LET LIFE BE COFFEE
Let life be coffee
The cold liquid rushes through your veins
That rush you feel before
That’s life’s worth
The sweetness on a summer day
The bitterness that I have most days
I cherish those sweet ones
Steam growing from my atmosphere
Heating rolling through my being
The bitterness still shining through it all
Let those packages of sugar brighten up my day
Or shall I roast to a brawl
Zenon Perros // TEENAGE BOY
A girl named June sat in her room
Wanting a better computer
She worried ‘bout wins, and her new roblox wings
Things like ponies, they meant nothing to her.
Her parents knew
She cared not for shoes,
Or dolls, hair brushes or new makeup hues
All it seemed she wanted to do
Was play games,
and she won at them too
She killed dragons in minecraft, as she fell through the days
And played fortnite for hours as she wasted away
She’d get money from wins,
And buy all the skins
But she always just seemed to want more
Her parents tried to stop this fool,
They made lots and lots and lots of rules,
But every time they would try to make rules
She’d answer “thank you kanye, very cool”,
And they tried and tried, rule after rule
But just never seemed to get through
She wasn’t too keen on much but TV
She’d sit for hours and hours
Watching Spongebob and Gary
While she drank her Sprite cranberry
Wasting and wasting away
She began skipping school
And breaking the rules,
Just to stay home and play one more game
And all the doctors they went to, they tried and tried in vain
For not a single one could set upon to tame the young girl’s brain
Her doctor, he wanted to ask her why she’d started to vape,
She turned to him, with a sly little grin
And said “They did surgery on a grape”
The doctors knew what had happened too,
They tried and tried to get it through
The parents did not want to see
To let it through their heads
That they didn’t have a little girl, but a teenage boy instead.
Ishika Mandelia // ICICLE
There is an icicle outside my bedroom window.
Its first facet glistens like tears,
A single droplet of perspiration trickles down its spine,
It reminds me of yesterday’s tomorrow,
The tomorrow I strive to make my best.
Its second facet has the sunlight’s reflection upon it,
It’s bright with no room for gloom,
And it catches me by surprise, blinding me,
It tells me today’s tomorrow will be just as blazing.
Its third facet has nothing,
It’s just a plane of blues and whites and creams,
But somehow, it tells me the most,
Tomorrow’s tomorrow will be the best of all.
There is an icicle outside my bedroom window.
Eliza M. // IDENTITY
Let them be as leaves, always changing colors and blowing around in the wind but limited to one season of life.
I’d rather be a branch, observing like a scientist experimenting and learning.
To have survived the coldest winters, to live, strong and sturdy. To be swayed by the gentle breeze across an open field or by rough gales on the tops of mountains.
I’d rather be boring, and if then ignored by everyone, than to be a colorful leaf, growing in the safety of a backyard where they are admired and then raked up by uncaring hands.
I’d rather look uninteresting and bland than bright and superficial. If I could be strong, observant and wise, I’d rather be a branch.
Xinyi Zhao // NANJING
7:15, tide raised:
Surfing in the wave
of the crowd,
The station doesn’t
seem to have space
to stand still.
Bouncing onto
each other like penguins,
Finally able
to get on the train;
The pressure of air
keeps one remembering
breathing.
Washed out by
the flood of people;
Drifting with
the mob, floating
back to the surface.
As violent as the
Waves seem,
In a small
valley road
was able to find
some peace.
As marvelous as the
tide seems
as a whole;
Yet each is
an individual drop;
Feeling at home.
Zach Vincent // TUMBLEWEED
I am a tumbleweed,
Rolling with the gentle push of the wind,
Strolling by to see what is going on,
In the old western town,
Down by the saloon.
I have a seat,
Have a chat,
Until the breezes pulls me out.
Out the two wooden doors,
Got to go somewhere else.
Out in the open, Where it is
Just the horizon and a clear blue sky.
But sometimes I want to settle
And relax. No can do,
Winds picking up, just got to
Keep on rolling.
David S. // SERENITY
A cat is how I perceive myself
I socialize with my friends
And exchange news and insights
I hear the rhythmic pounding of
The basketball dribbling back and forth
On the glossed hardwood of the court
I enjoy school and my studies
Yet I also enjoy relaxing
In my room or on the couch
I enjoy savoring the few
Peaceful and solitary moments in my day
With only my thoughts to accompany me
As the clamor of the outside world subsides
And a serene and tranquil feeling surrounds me.
As I settle into restful sleep
Wenjin Zhang // MORNING IN SHANGHAI
Entering the subway station, I have been used to such a scene, The crowds are like waves, one after another, pushing against each other. Complaints, shoutings, quarrels, rushing into my ears.
People collide with each other like bulls in a limited space.
Struggling to squeeze into the narrow subway, Surrounded by tight breathings.
The subway drove out of the dark tunnel, a ray of sunlight spilled through the window.
Everything is restored to its usual, The turmoil turns back to tranquil.
No matter how hasty the morning is, Our plans are not disrupted. We look forward to tomorrow, Just like yesterday.
This is Shanghai.
Eileen Cannon // NIGHTHAWKS BASED ON “NIGHTHAWKS” BY EDWARD HOPPER
No more street cars
Passing by going who knows how far
One way record spins r
& b sways in smooth echo
Rocking this deserted diner to sleep
Smooth enough for the ears of us Nighthawks
Bulbs buzz strung up
Above the counter hung up
On nothing, no thoughts
At this sleepy street corner
Soft red stop light energy flows through the windows Smooth enough to illuminate the eyes of us Nighthawks