seen: 11:46PM
poem by Gabby Clifford, ’16 Come see me Because so easily I let myself Be seen by those around me And hardly seen By those who secretly lie beside me The crisp air and my nonchalant face Hide my despair as I try to grasp the chair I clumsily sit on and turn my head…
1938
By Abraham Budson, ’22 On a frost tipped cold-mid morning, halfway through the year. The old gym dark and quiet, the new one crystal clear. As the students would soon enter and just as soon embark As the light shut off forever The floor all dust and dark As songs and speeches sounded the glorious…
How to Get Away with Murder
A prose poem by Editor-in-Chief Jacob Landau, ’22 Ten violets grow in soft water. Another eight lilies, struck by the early March sunlight, rise through warm gravel. Fifteen roses appear in melting snow. Fifty sunflowers soar through Florida marshes. Dozens of bouquets emerge from the sullen ground daily. Every year, thousands of flowers emerge—yet again…
Second Residence
Because I could not run for home, It kindly ran for me Reminders, hints everywhere Yet nowhere to run. I saw the hope of travel diminished, Destroyed. How I mourned the road not taken. Shivers down my spine, Entangled. I can not help but think of the sights unseen. Wonders in the place not visited.…
of auburn suns and frozen skies
A poem by Chloe Fang, ’23, winner of our transition contest The leaves were vivid, burning with a carnelian-amber intensity. You gazed down the street, at the trees whose leaves were once peridot green but were now a range of goldenrods, orange topaz, and garnet. They wouldn’t be for much longer. Amidst the wonderful fall…
at last
a poem by Clara Renner, ’24 Stepping into the warm sun. My feet warmed by the soft sand beneath them. The light wind blowing my long hair. My sunglasses shading my eyes from the bright sunlight. The smell of the salty ocean and fresh cinnamon churros on the pier. My feet washed by the waves…
my stomps
a poem by Dilen Marra, ’22 I stomp down the path I watch other people tiptoe down the path They look like swans swimming down the river that I once fished at I move with them We are salmon swimming up the stream of life I’ve been stomping for an eternity For if you stomp…
you are a lie
a poem by Dilen Marra, ’22 Trust me, I know a lot about lies And you are a lie You are the voice in the back of my mind The voice that tells me that I will see the sun, the candle, and the fireflies But, what lives inside of me can tell you otherwise…
fall
a poem by fall contest winner Simon Zalesky, ’20 The leaves die but they will come again The water freezes and it snows when The darker times are out then But do not fret or weep and cry For summers coming the light will rise There is no light without the dark And there is…
everything is fine
a poem by Chloe Fang, ’23 Everything will be fine, they say, as mothers and fathers fight desperately behind them, trying to keep their sons and daughters close to them. Everything will be fine. This is for their good, they say, as children scream and thrash, fighting to stay with what’s left of their broken…
only with a body
a poem by Emily Banthin, ’20 Today I walked through a hollow house accompanied by figures with tattoos made of silver crosses hung from the tiny hairs of a neck. Their eyes were open so wide I was pretty sure their irises were held in place by something I do not possess, because my eyes…
the power of representation
a poem by Shaffaf Tariq, ’21 Not very hard Not too bad It’s been fine Outsider, left out Subconscious subtle exclusion I feel different The majority feel accepted Represented and welcomed They walk the same path Share the same privilege Almost always accepted Almost never questioned The minority float along The ones who “cannot relate”…
stars and stripes
a poem by Julia Rocha, ’21 “Immigrants come here to steal our jobs,” they say. Yet the people who say that don’t want those jobs anyway; Some immigrants work at Dunkin’ Donuts or McDonald’s just for minimum pay. There are immigrants that have a job high up in companies; Secured through hard work, Just like…
jealousy
a poem by Winter Contest Winner Dilen Marra, ’22 Every one of his bright hairs, the color of the sun, Stays aligned with the others, held by a substance that smells of hundreds of dollars. They scream out to everyone, letting people know that they are there. I bring my hand to my head, Pulling…
for you
a poem written by Anjali Jain, ’21 My friend, Sometimes I see you reading in the grass. I see you splayed out beneath the fire-white sky, like the petals of a flower, or a new-broken window, refracting fractals of light and shadow and brutal, breaking, broken edges and edges and edges on end, the end.…
wait!
a poem by Rebecca Eneyni, ’19 wait! she tells him her eyes flushing a wild forest green that matches the t-shirt she wore that morning, the ratty holey grungy tattered cloth that perches gently on the dimples of her angular shoulder blades wait! she says again as his gait maintains forward mom-en-tum the humble shuffle…
untitled
a poem by anonymous, ’21 Sometimes your face is the equivalent of ‘what if’ If i could tell you that Your smile could keep the stars From going out when the morning comes. If i could tell you I think your future is like your height Unlimited and stretching upwards in all its glory, like…
some people
a poem by Rebecca Eneyni, ’19 Some people in this life Have pure intentions, Untainted kindness, And blazing hearts, Aching to be shared. These people are the sun peeking from the crevice between humble snowed mountains They are the color seeping from the lilting dewy flowers of a spring morning They are the resilient yellow…
army jacket
a poem by Anjali Jain, ’21 There will come a day when a wire hanger will become the bony pair of shoulders that will bear the worn-out weight of you. It’s the weight of a rope in the hangman’s hands and also an embrace. You will smell Like spiderwebs. You will taste like the tear…
awake
a poem by Shaffaf Tariq, ’21 Awake Long before the sun rises Shh Don’t tell But I never went to sleep in the first place Cold sheets soothe my scorching skin As I drink in the glowing moonlight My eyes burn from the withdrawal of sleep Or maybe it’s from the flames that never…
XXIII
a poem by Maia Foley, 19′ The skies of my eyes are raining onto the slatted wooden bridge beneath them; the thick droplets, each one containing enough damage to be worth an entire hurricane, drip onto the bars with an arrhythmic “plink, plank,…
flower arranging
a poem by Benista Owusu-Amo, ’21 Everyday I walk past the playground Children laugh Shove Smile I see a boy with curly hair He smiles at me from behind the fence His teeth are as white as the bright clouds in the sky His eyes are dark, but inviting He clenches a green lollipop in…
slipping away
a poem written by Gemma Chatham, ’21 They are We, We are They, I’m not sure which I am, I’m slipping away. They who are We stand to the side, While the We who are They Stand in circles, talk in line. They who are We do not speak, Not because we can’t, But because…
the book on the shelf
a poem by Luke Quinn, ’21 As a child, one can look at his or her self And say, I want to be a firefighter Because of that book on that shelf. As a child, one can look at somebody else And say, I want to be like him, Because of that book on that…
sometimes
poem by Anonymous Sometimes I get dizzy from the constant spin of the earth if only it could stop for a moment to catch my breath settle my stomach relieve a constant headache Sometimes I get sea sick from the ebb and flow of the tides the crash and subside of the waves Sometimes it…
there is a darkness
poem by Anonymous There is a darkness piercing and choking. Last night my body contorted, twisted toward the ceiling. broken limbs and hidden hands. and the line between nightmare and reality took the form of chalk dusted into it’s surroundings; and a pinch to the skin felt dull and cold on my cracked skin.
hands of absalom
poem by Anonymous His hands fumble, Struggle; Wrapped in thick mittens of self doubt. Shaken to the core. The egg cracks in his grasp The pencil tip will not remain straight. It’s two weeks later, And his mind may forget – From time to time – But his body Will always remember How she left…
jealousy: a monster within
poem by Rebecca Eneyni, ’18 My fingernails bore trenches into my clasped hands, A bead of sweat trickled down the side of my face, Dodging the vein that ticked on my temple, My glazed eyes hid the fire that lurked beneath, No one…ought to know. My eyes darted about the enclosed space, Looking, searching for…
two days
photo & poem by Maia Foley, ’19 It had been two days. She gave him a string Of wound black and blue, Twisted and tied as the knots In his stomach when he finally asked. It had been two months. She had finally met his family And he had met hers. They were going to…
beautiful, but ugly
poem by Anonymous Being born ugly isn’t always bad. Being born ugly can save you from being bought and sold like furniture. But later you grow pretty. All doll-like with those delicate eyelashes and silky smooth hair. Looking so fragile that you might just break with a single snap of the fingers. You try to…
chrysanthemums in snow
poem by Ramya Yandava ’17 Everyone thought they’d die by the time December rolled around, when the chill hit and Mrs. B removed her wind chimes and the birds all flew South We knew they were precocious, wiser than their years and ahead of their time, and we were glad for them But still –…
you aren’t just beautiful
poem by Anonymous My heart has never felt love I listen to sad songs And all I can feel is dryness I don’t wanna be told I am pretty Beautiful I want to be told I might have a heart of gold I long to kiss in a field And lose myself And share myself…
basement (with the clock ticking)
poem by Lexi Todorov, ’17 You reach to your pocket In response to an ersatz buzz, Spend it like time does, constant and with certainty. Hurry. Your time in the basement must be worth it, A watch full of ladders— Tears in your eyes, dear? They don’t matter. The water’s getting higher now— Shall you…
a haunted melody
poem by Rubina Daneschvar, ’17 A man’s fingers caress the keys of a piano by the window A crowd gathers, hypnotized by the man His fingers move up and down the instrument In his mind an orchestra appears and plays him a lullaby Outside the night is fading as the first glimpses of sun appear…
seen: 11:46PM
poem by Gabby Clifford, ’16 Come see me Because so easily I let myself Be seen by those around me And hardly seen By those who secretly lie beside me The crisp air and my nonchalant face Hide my despair as I try to grasp the chair I clumsily sit on and turn my head…
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