2007

Sarah Hutchinson

 

An old Man sits across the street,

Speaking in riddles to all that he meets.

Asks their name

                Their cause

                        Their game

Then asks them to discover his own.

A young man wanders aimless at night,

Searching for his own unique light.

Thinks himself capable

                                    Strong

                                                Infallible

And tells his truths to the stars.

A babe lies quietly in his bed,

Listens to tales his mother has read.

Of dragons

            And princes

                        And righted wrongs

And dreams of such as he sleeps.

 

While all the world fell into dream,

There I stood along the seam,

As though before an open door,

Whose post I could go past no more.

In wakefulness I stared away,

Unable to forget the day.

Images passing, yet not of dreams.

Their substance similar, though it seems.

And though fatigue press on my eyes,

Darkness breaks no the sunrise binds.

Kneeling silent to the door,

Begging entrance to foreign shore.

Till slowly broken is the tie,

And precious rest no I find.

 

 

A Coy Reply

 

Were the world so large, and time so long

And such things youthful patience easily prolong.

Mayhap I would consider and stay,

To sit by you one single day.

But as thou prefer distance for pride,

Here I’ll remain along the Ganges’ side.

For my rubies as red as Abel’s blood,

Give more assurance than thine flood.

Tis for thy sake that I fear.

Lest you unintentioned ill fruit bear.

For the greatest empires of them all,

Grow for a time, but then must fall.

Such ponderous time you set away.

I alone can ne’er repay.

If only as ageless were this heart,

As the promises it cries and brags to start.

 

I assent to you the chariot’s sound,

As it rushes to the ground.

But did not Elijah greet with joy,

This angel herald, heaven’s envoy?

And if you were so true in speech,

And practiced all that you would preach.

Then beauty itself could never hinder,

Nor dust and marble destroy the cinder.

Fear not your lust in ashes to lie,

For death could not such goodness pry.

Did not the poet once proclaim?

The grave cannot our hearts refrain.

 

Perhaps you have drunk too deep,

The dew of beauty for which you leap.

Who has given thee permission,

To view my soul without revision?

And to where shall we fly,

When prey is sparse in winter’s sigh?

Forget not once time is past,

We must account for all at last.

Should a measure of our strength,

In utter disaster break at length.

The sweetness gathered in the mass

Shall shatter as a fragile glass

And close for us the pearled gate.

Paradise itself will not wait.

So let us not before the sun,

Incur the fate from which we run.

 

 

Ben Morgan

 

Trees

 

Swaying in the breeze

Noting is as it seems

They look plain

Ordinary, completely describable.

It looks so simple.

They just sit there in the ground.

Leaves or not, it’s a tragedy.

Such beauty and such grace

No one sees,

Sometimes not even I.

Just a resource--

We’ll put more back.

Will they sway as the old did?

Will the rustle as the old did?

Will they stand as the old did?

Will they be as the old were?

Will they even have the same spirit of strength?

Jutting out of the earth,

Nothing takes them down.

It would take heavenly forces to destroy resolve,

Resolve as strong as this.

Nature begets resources begets industry,

Loss of innocence,

Stripped of beauty.

 

 

A Song to Bring Me Home

 

I pull back the dull red curtain

And in my mind I am very certain

I’ve never seen something like this

Oh I’ll take it, it’s so perfect

The wife she will love it each day

It’s the perfect memento for when I go away

I am home and she gasps when it shines

And she smiles as it sings and winds

I try no to focus on tomorrow

But I feel the weight of heavy sorrow

And we sleep the restless sleep of the worried

Our dreams of no importance and hurried

I wake up early I pack up and sigh

Because the government told me I might need to die

To fight for their cause and preserve

The freedom we all rightfully deserve

But I will not go for them

No, I will not let their system win

I go for her and her soft beauty

Not for the regimented sense of duty

I will bear this and I will weather

And hope the distance brings us closer together

I pack and leave the box with a not on top

I reach the front door and touch it but stop

I hear you sobbing in the other room

Promise to be back so soon

I have to go if I don’t want to be berated

As I go you look quietly morose and sedated

I leave and hope you read the note

And take some comfort in the lines I wrote

“Darling, listen to this song as it spins

And play it as much as you can to get me back home again.”

I can see you sobbing with the paper in your hand

But the vision escapes as my plane finally lands

I hear the bullets and see the destruction

A full blown conflict no longer on the edge of eruption

I can feel the late palpable in the air

I see the trees rustle and can picture your hair

In the middle of conflict I fear for my life

 I hear a noise in the jungle and reach for my knife

I hear no more but feel a piercing sensation

I’ve been shot in the gut, alone and lost in a jungle nation

But then I see hope, as people come to my aid

My day is saved; I am found by my brigade

I am hospitalized and then I slowly get well

I can soon return home with great stories to tell

I run up to the door and you are there in your best

I run and I hold you so warm in my arms

I told you I promised I’d come to no harm

But as you start to speak the whole world fades to black

I look around and feel pain and know I am back

In the jungle for my death I might have to wait so long

I hope and I pray you are playing my song

 

 

Theatre

 

            …I began walking down a street that was close to my house.  I had no intended destination. I simply assumed that once I got there I would know that this was where I was supposed to be.  So meandering along the different alleys, streets and backyards, I walked.  Never faster than I needed to go but never slow enough so as not to reach my unknown destination.  As I walked I encountered nothing of any consequence, my surroundings never drastically changed.  It was just a simple autumn day.  Some of the trees were already bare and some were giving up the last of their leaves stubbornly and grudgingly.  It was cool, but I had a light jacket that was providing my torso with some warmth and had pockets that my hands found quite pleasant.  The day was somewhat dreary, and as dreary days often do, it made me somewhat reflective.  I looked into the sky and saw endless possibility.  I looked at the ground and the leaves strewn about and saw nature and connection.  I looked at the dirty alleys in between rusted old building and saw failed progress and broken dreams, shattered everywhere like discard bottles….

           

 

 

Tara Wepking

 

Mary Anne has something to say; she

Wants to escape and she’ll find a way

She’s a lightning storm let fate do what it may.

And her garden grows so well.

Thomas finds his day-to-day bland so

He turns away and puts his head in the sand.

He asked the Lord if he could see His

Hand and now his faith is up on a soapbox.

I want to live; I want to breathe; I want to love

I want to see whatever it is that spins round in your mind.

And all the mechanics of intellect keep wasting all my time.

Jordan hums his favorite tune; he’s miles away and in over the moon.

Just the sound of his voice could make me swoon--

But he’s king and I’m stuck in the gutter.

Jesus Christ, I need you tonight--I hurt all the

Others while I stumbled round blind. I’ve been

Praying so hard that all my tears have been cried…

But I’m not sweating out blood yet.

Breathe in and out and then decide--

            Would you rather live in fear than fight and die?

 

Valentines and sailors with a sea in between--

She stands like a veil in the wind. She is not

Strong at heart. Because her heart belongs to him.

Too many tales about the strangeness of the sea,

and its earnest desire to throw young brides in misery.

But you were never a sailor, and I was never your Valentine,

So this story will get lost only in the sea of time.

 

I’ve got the kind of headache God would

Kill with the Bibles, so I apologize if the

Words aren’t very clear. I’ve been searching for

A reason to keep my heart believing,

But I don’t believe I’ll ever find it here.  I

Apologize for all the lies waiting there on

The tip of my tongue. But you’re so prophetic, you’re so apathetic,

and I’m still so very young.

 

There’s a sense of total loss taking hold over

My bones that remind me of the days when

I had no blood nor any home.  My lifeline’s

Getting longer in a race against itself to

Preserve my body’s breath before the timer

Gets set off, but I’m afraid that it may be

Too late to rescue me.

 

I am letting all things go-- if we were meant

to be, then we were meant to take things slow.

I am too young to live, but too old to stay a

Child, so I sit here between the world’s watching

People all the while. They seem to know something

That I haven’t figured out yet.  The time to decide

Is near and I know that you’re my last bet.

 

I apologize for all the lies waiting there on

The tip of my tongue. But you’re so prophetic,

You’re so apathetic, and I’m still so very young.

 

 

 

 

 

Kelsey Schoenbaum

 

Strength of the Heart

 

What is strength?

Was I strong before?

When did I last cry?

I don’t remember.

 

Is the heart fake?

Is passion a hoax?

Is love fate?

I don’t know.

 

Is this life lost?

Are memories lies?

Is pain real?

I don’t care.

 

I remember fear,

Looking straight at it

And laughing carelessly.

Maybe I am strong.

 

I saw my heart.

It burned with fire.

I fell in love.

Maybe I do know.

 

I found my way.

I felt great pain.

I looked into my past.

Maybe I do care.

 

I once hated.

That was my strength.

Now I love,,

And I am stronger.

 

I have opened up,

And I cried.

Once I walked,

But now I will run.

 

 

A Story Not to be Remembered

 

My story is one of

Pain and tears

A song of

Joy and happiness,

But it is not remembered.

 

My story tells of a warrior

Strong and bold.

It tells of a woman

Gentle and fair.

But it is not remembered.

 

My song is forgotten

Never to be sung.

My name is lost

Never to be spoken.

For my story is not remembered.

 

It is not written down

So it can not be found.

I have faded into the past

Like I never lived.

For my story is not remembered.

 

But do not despair for me

For I choose this path.

I asked for the burden

And I picked this sword.

So that no one will remember.

 

I have left you my sword

For it bears my hear.t

Listen to the wind

For it sings my song

So please will you remember me.

 

I have told my tale

To only one person,

And that person is you.

So it is only truly forgotten

If you do not remember.

 

So hold up Heart

Bravely and proudly

Sing with Wind

Loud and with voice

And remember me.

 

 

 

 

 

Sometimes

 

Sometimes you have to become mute

To be heard.

Sometimes you have to become invisible

To be seen.

Sometimes you have to wear a mask

To be known.

Sometimes you have to become deaf

To truly hear.

Sometimes you have to become blind

To truly see.

But sometimes you need to shout out loud

Sometimes you need to step forward.

Sometimes you need to show the world who you are.

Sometimes you just need to open up.

Oh, too bad it’s only sometimes.

 

 

A Twist of Life

 

Who are you to question me?

Who are you to assume things

About me and my reasoning?

Who are you to ask me?

Who and what are you?

 

Have I ever given you

A reason not to trust me?

Have I ever given you

A reason to think that

I’m completely crazy?

 

Now that I have

Yelled myself hoarse

Now that I have

Screamed and shouted

I would like to tell you

I am undoubtly insane.

 

Amazing isn’t it

How life twists and turns

How it goes up and down

Even to have an insane person

Yell at you for calling them crazy.

 

This is nothing more than

A simple twist of life

Just a pot hole in the road

Nothing major so you never

I mean never think about it.

 

But sometime these twists

Throw you a loop

Really knock you off balance

I’m just one of those pot holes

I’m just one of those people

Who make you question everything

 

I am a twist of life

Just in human form

I twist your mind

Just for the fun of it

I am truly insane

And I am proud of it

 

You can not escape me

At first you hate me

But soon you begin to love me

For I make you see life differently

I make you appreciate the unexpected

I make you love life for all it has.

 

 

In the Wolf’s Vein

            He looked about, checked the guard and dashed across the yard into the shadows.  Everything must be perfect, he thought.  This was his only chance to impress the Head Counsel and secure his position as a Shadow Warrior.  He crept along the chain link fence, closing in on his prey.

“I’m proud of you, White Fan.  You have passed your training, a feet most recruits die from,” said Phoenix with a dark gleam in her eyes.

“But now we need to break into Summit Prison and recruit prisoner 118 for us,” said Shadow unemotionally.

            Even though this only happened earlier this evening it seemed like an eternity ago.

            “You want me to break into Summit Prison?” asked White Fang, a confused expression on his face.  He knew that they got most of their new recruits from prisons, but Summit Prison was where they sent the most dangerous prisoners, no matter their age.

            “I know it sounds easy and not really worth your great a kill, but everyone has to start out small, I’m afraid,” answered Phoenix….

 

 

 

 

 

             

Mollie Ray

 

Gifts

 

Why can some do

What others cannot?

What is so hard

About using your hand?

 

How can some paint

To their heart’s content

While others the brush

Is limp in their hand?

 

Why can some carve

Works of wonderous beauty

But for other the chisel

Makes every wrong stroke?

 

For those who can write

It’s a marvelous gift,

But words fail to some

And that wonder is missed.

 

Some can run fast

Or leap to the sky

While others tire

No matter how hard they try.

 

But there is one gift

I found we all have.

That gift is love

And is the greatest of all.

 

 

Homecoming

 

Keep a vigil for me

when the night grows dark and dreary.

Leave a lantern on the sill

to guide me when I’m weary.

 

I’ll return to you soon

so please don’t be sleeping.

Be ready for my return.

The wolves surround me creeping.

 

I need you there to let me in.

I will call when still far away.

Will you run to me and hold me tight

when I come home to stay?

 

 

Rain or Tears

 

The rains come down

       In tears

On to the earth

       It’s face

 

Ye it never seams

    To cleanse it

     Of this one

  Imperfect race

 

It leaves us

Once more

To come and

   Try again

 

We wait for it

Ever hopeful

Though we shouldn’t

For our sin

 

What will the cut rock

Say of him

What will the cut rock

Tell? I asked f him

 

 

A.L. Bodenstab

 

You Don’t Know Me

 

My name is unknown.

My signature not there.

You don’t know what I look like.

I was never here

 

You can’t prove I exist,

Or that I’m still alive.

My identity is a secret

That the government well hides.

 

You’ll never know

That I was once here.

My face is erased.

It has been for years.

 

I no longer exist.

My old life I’ve shed.

The government has hidden it.

That other person is dead.

 

You must be mistaken.

I’m not that one.

It’s all over now.

That old life is done.

 

So move along now

And go on your way.

I once was that person,

But I am not today.

 

That name is unknown.

That signature not mine.

You’ve got the wrong person.

I’m not here this time.

 

 

The Alarm Clock of Evil Incarnate

 

            BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

            The alarm clock blared its hellish morning call not far from where my head lay buried somewhere in the pillows and blankets covering my soft, warm, comfortable bed.

            I was still for a moment trying to figure out in my sleep fogged mind what time it was.  Hmm.  Must be…let me see…if it went off at 5:30 and I hit the snooze button…was it three times?...then it would be three minutes to six.  Stupid nine minute snooze button setting

            I chanced a finger outside the warmth of the bed.  When the cold morning air hit it I squeaked and pulled it back in with a hiss of annoyance…

 

 

Robyn Gerber

 

Is there anything interesting

Up there in heaven? Was it worth

Leaving me all alone down here?

If the angels make for better

Dancing partners than I did, I

Suppose I can forgive you. I’m

Lost without you guiding me

Along, holding my hand. I’m

Not sure where I’m supposed

to go, or which way to turn.

I’ve been wandering in circles

Since you’ve been gone

I just hope it was everything

You wanted it to be. Because we

Could have made our own Heaven,

Right here on Earth.

 

 

The Longest Day

 

I love you.

And I wish my arms were

Long enough to wrap around

You and take away your pain

And I’m so sorry that my arms

Aren’t long enough to swallow

Up your pain.

But I will be here, by your side

Until the darkness finds from your

Life

And the morning comes for you

Again.

Even if it takes forever.

Even if it takes forever.

Even if it takes forever.

 

And I will teach you to smile again.

And I will teach you to dance again.

And I will teach you to love again.

 

 

Rachael Jeeninga

 

Take Me Away

 

When I first got my wings

I was afraid to fly.

You gave me the strength

To take a chance and try.

 

When I fell out of the air

You were there to catch me

To give me some hope

You banished my need to flee.

 

Take me away

Back to when

Everything was so perfect

None doubted us

Nothing was in the way

Back before

Everything went wrong

 

I’ve never doubted

That you’re my guardian angel

Sent to watch over me

And to keep me from this world’s hell

 

I’m always going to be here

Don’t leave, I still need you

You’re the light in my darkness

My guide in what to do

 

Take me away

Back to when

Everything was so perfect

None doubted us

Nothing was in the way

Back before

Everything went wrong

 

I’ve been crying for so long now

My eyes are weeping crimson liquid

I need you to make it stop

Please ignore all the horrid things I’ve said

 

My wings are broken

Please come take me away

So we can be together

Just like we were yesterday

 

 

Hidden Moon, Unbidden Curse

 

The hope was there

Under the skin so have,

That the moon wouldn’t show,

And reveal his foes

What he truly was.

 

The clouds kept hidden

The enemy unbidden

A glowing eye

Watching from the sky

Over his pain.

 

If by some form of grace

There would be no trace

 Of the monster that lied

Just under the surface inside

His darkened soul.

 

The moon came into view

Away his relief flew

As his bones twisted, became broken

His anguish was the only token

Of this cursed werewolf.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Caitlyn Tzchka

 

The truth.

 

Whoever set the classifications that everyone lives by every day? No one willing to think enough outside of the box to give a second glance at a person that just might have a little more to say than what’s on their daily agenda.

I recently went to New York seeking reassurance that there’s more to life than what I see every day.  Just when I thought it was hopeless I came across this man.  By the looks of it, he was 24.  Strange would describe him.  Not normal in the least but it’s something you can’t quite put your finger on.  I sat down by him on that Fourth of July night.  I am not sure why.  Perhaps curiosity had stricken me in such a way that I had to find out what was different about this man.  He didn’t frighten me as most 24 year old men would.  There was a welcoming presence about him.  As we sat in the lawn chairs surrounding Lake Erie with fireworks going off left and right I noticed that he was wearing 3D glasses.  By this time I was so anxious to find out what this man had behind his awkward presence that I had to say something. “Why are you wearing those glasses?” I asked. “Look through them,” he said as he put them on me.  As I looked through them, peering at the fireworks, it was beautiful. “Fireworks at their best isn’t it?” He said.

“Yes, it’s amazing,” I replied.

I gave him back the glasses.   We continued to talk about the casualties of life.  Every question I had asked was answered with logic and knowledge that you don’t find in you average person.  Although this conversation was anything but ordinary, he never looked at me.  Never looked me in the eye while talking.  Never even looked in my general direction. Just peered at the ground as if e was frightened of me but knew that I wasn’t anything at all to be afraid of.  After awhile his father asked him to come help him in the kitchen so he said his goodbyes and left.  Not long after this his mother came and sat down next to me.

“I saw you were talking to my son Chris,” she said.

“I was.  He has an amazing mind,” I replied. Once I replied she just sat there and looked at me.  It wasn’t for very long, but it seemed to be an eternity of judging.  She was trying to make up her mind about me, I could tell.

“You’re an amazing girl,” she said, “Most people find it awkward to talk to my son and carry on in the way you did?

“Why wouldn’t I?” I replied, “He has a lot more to say that’s worth hearing than most people would.

 

 

 

Grade School Creative Writing Contest

 

 

1^st Place Poetry

Kelsey Reuter

Holy Cross

 

I was with you on that airplane on what seemed a normal day,

And I was with you when you learned you’d die at the hands of those astray.

I was with you when you called your mom and said your last goodbye,

And I was with you when the fear took hold and you began to cry.

 

I was with you when you saw the plane and panic gripped your heart,

And I was there to give you comfort, to do my fatherly part.

I was with you as the ground approached; I heard your final prayer.

   

I was with you when you charged into that smoking rubble mound,

And I was with you as you listened for any warning sound.

I was with you as you searched that place where those two towers fell,

And I was with you when you heard that distant, frantic yell.

 

I was with you when you planned the deed that cost so many lives,

And I was with the people whom you so cruelly victimized.

I was with you in the cockpit; I begged you to repent,

But you refused to listen; you knew not what my voice meant.

   

Some years have passed since that day, but I’ll always be here,

It doesn’t matter where you are, forever I’ll be near.

I’m with those who’ve come home to me, and I’m with those still behind,

And I;m waiting for you, children, to release your earthly bind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

2^nd Place Poetry

Rhiannon Callahan

Zion Bethalto

 

On every mountain, There’s A Little Bit Of God

On Some Mountain One Day My Time Will Come

On That Mountain My God Will List Me Up

On Every Mountain, God’s Creations Will Be Seen

On Every Single Mountain, Will Arise Out Heavenly King

So The Wind Blows With The East

So The Wind Blows With The West

But Soft, Below, Behold The River God Hath Made

It Mingles With The Lakes And Oceans And Seas

Finally It Meets With The Mountain God Hath Made

The Sun Shines And The River Flows But Our God Is Like A Mountain

Never Wavering Or Unsteady

As Firm As A Rock

A Mountain Among Mountains

The Best That There Can Be

My God Is A Mountain

And Kind Above All Kings

My God Is A Mountain

A Father Above The Rest

My God Is A Mountain

And That’s That

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

3^rd Place Poetry

Ryan Tite

Zion Bethalto

 

Love is a feeling

But no one can describe this feeling

Formed by Cupid’s bow

Two souls become one

Pledged to each other for eternity

Just as a flower grows

The relationship becomes stronger

There are hard times in every form of love

But only that hurts us makes us

Love one another more through error

 

 

1^st Place Short Story

Rhiannon Callahan

Zion Bethalto

Eighth Grade

“ O’Callaghan Castle”

 

2^nd Place Short Story

Katie Ray

Zion Bethalto

Eighth Grade

“The After Math”

 

3^rd Place Short Story

Cassie Endicott

Zion Bethalto

Eighth Grade

“Everything Is Going To Be Alright”