Our Spring Issue 2015 featured work from the weeks leading up to May 13th, 2015.
Featuring poetry by juniors Gabby Clifford, Kurt Dean, Cyle Hairston-Gomes, and Rachel Landau
by Gabby Clifford, ’16
The first kiss
With the boy you met an hour ago
The last dance
Until your face is longing for more
Some component always missing
When everything seems to
Shattered into a million different pieces
And we do care
Because when we pretend to not
We become emotionless
When we really do
What happened to straightforward
Because we are complicated humans?
Strangeness comes between us like glass
One event turns two friends
Like they never even knew
Why do we do what we do every day of our lives.
Push forward in the hope that everything will be fine and love and life and happiness will be served up into our deserved souls.
What is family when your brother forgets to call you.
When you cease to feel important in your own home.
When you cry a little because you feel disappointed
By the people you trusted
Felt safe around.
Why didn’t they call you back
Why is loneliness prevalent
You rebuilt yourself
Not to get knocked down again.
by Kurt Dean, ’16
The leaves mingle: tossing, rolling, sprawling
through the streets. A mystery: the home of each leaf.
A mystery: the stories each might tell. But no one
stopped to listen, and the only noise they made was
to crunch under impatient feet,
crumbling beneath fresh black rubber soles. The
brightest orange. The perfect complement to its
neighbors. A modest burnt umber, cast against the
The leaves leap up, saying “What I have seen, what I
have seen… Listen! Listen to me!”
“Have you seen the brisk, sunny, spring mornings?
Have you woken to the sunrise and seen the world
brighten? Have you seen the bright blue afternoons?
The midnight blue evenings? The gray skies and
heavy downpours? Have you heard laughter among
friends? Have you felt the serenity of a mountaintop,
loud with birds and wind in the trees, not cars or
human lips? The lips on cheeks, foreheads, lips
whispering love? Lips parting in a smile as noses
touch? The full, trembling breath of ecstasy? Have
you heard a child’s speech impediment in a ‘twoy
stoire’. Has your skin split on the stones and the dirt?
Did you get up–brush yourself off–and smile? Have
you ever chosen to live?”
by Cyle Hairston-Gomes, ’16
and noticed I was feeling foreign warmth,
from another sun.
Rays danced across my skin to the sounds of a soulful drum.
I’d never felt this rhythm before.
Slowly, I began to move with it.
Becoming present in my stride.
Each breath and step forward,
the Earth beneath replied.
I kept reflecting the sun’s movements
as it waltzed across the sky.
That’s when my own light beamed from the soul and through my eyes.
It showed through my mouth,
when I opened it to speak.
Old eyes began to follow;
all squinting drowsily
as I slowly reached my peak.
flying over syracuse
by Rachel Landau
the tops of buildings, grains of sand,
fragmented expanses of dirt and dust,
band-aids to heal the scars of earth
pine trees, oak trees, marbled forests,
resurrected kitchen tables,
life locked in a ray of light,
oxygen captured by the buzz of the air
beauty bewilders the same science
that saves me 37,000 feet above ground
and she breathes the perpetual gust
that shakes the wing, and she plants
the buildings with her eyes
she is always gazing up
at passing planes–the stars
Featuring media by Marianna Perez and Caterina Baffa ’17, and Elise Miwa ’16
Marianna Perez, ’17
Elise Miwa, ’16
Wellesley in Black and White
Caterina Baffa, ’17