Download - Terra Incognita, Volume 2
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TERRA INCOGNITA
VOLUME II 2011
TERRA Environmental Research Center
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Terra Incognita
VOLUME II 2011
A Literary and Fine Arts Magazine
TERRA Environmental Research Institute
11005 SW 84th Street
Miami, FL 33173
(305) 412—4800
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Truth. A simple concept that is not always so simple to achieve.
Truth does not always color the words that fall from our mouths,
just as it does not always resonate with the thoughts in our head.
We would like to say that our eyes see only the truth in the world
around u, but that itself would be a lie.
We cannot always be objective in our observations, and without
objectivity there can be no truth.
The most we can do is to simply exist as the medium through
which students can express their realities, like a camera lens film-
ing only what it sees. The stories and art on these pages are the
truth in their own ways, and we are the messenger presenting
those ideas to you to perceive as you will.
Famirka Then
Editor
Terra Incognita
TERRA Environmental Research Institute
11005 SW 84th Street
Miami, FL 33173
TERRA INCOGNITA STAFF
Famirka Then
Michael Murphy
Danielle Graham
Alexis Wood
Taylor Paul
Isleydi Rodriguez
Principal: Carrie Montano
Faculty Adviser: Deanne Getreu
Colophon:
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TERRA INCOGNITA STAFF
Famirka Then
Michael Murphy
Danielle Graham
Alexis Wood
Taylor Paul
Isleydi Rodriguez
Principal: Carrie Montano
Faculty Adviser: Deanne Getreu
Colophon:
Terra Incognita Volume II was created using Microsoft Publisher on HP
Compaq computers. The staff selected the font Bauhaus 93 for the text on
the front and back cover, and Palatino for the text throughout the maga-
zine. All author and artist names appear in the font Bradley Hand ITC.
This magazine is displayed electronically and is available for download at
http://greenschool.dadeschools.net/Departments/Language_Arts/
terraincognita2010.pdf
Front and back cover art by Riley Duncan
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Table of Contents:
Peace on Earth by Natalie Calvo
Voice by Belen Caballero
In Your Heart of Hearts by Christophe Blaize
The High School Experience by Natalia Matamala
Her Prince by Michael De La Morena
Je t‖adore by Jorge E. Perdomo
Je t‖aime By Elise Alfonso
Music by Gabriela Mendez
Personalities Take Time by Raquel Koela
Message from War by Javier Liens
The lives and Times of your Kids: The Auction by Akilah Hill-Hamler
The Hunt by Anthony Vazquez
Haiku by Daniel Manyari
Nature by Christopher Estrella
Ballet by Samantha Atherly
The Viking at Stamford Bridge by Anthony Vazquez
The tale of the tiny tale b y Alex Saavedra
Friendship Poem by Andreina Hernandez
Poem by Oriana Daly
The Crows by Anthony Vasquez
Haikus by Christopher Latile and Miguel Botran
Lunchroom by Amanda Brunner
Ode to Potatoes by Daniel Vazquez
Haiku by Oriana Daly
Roses and Music by Michelle Castillo
The “I Am” Poem by Jessica Gonzalez
L'impossible by Olivia Sanchez
The Impossible by Olivia Sanchez
Excerpt from Chapter 1 of "Painting on the Canvas of the Mystery of
Melody" by Christian McCrimmon
Friends or Foes? by Kylie Alvarez
Haiku by Rebecca Gonzalez
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35
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48
53
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61
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68 -69
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Page:
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76-77
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Group Haikus by Moriah Houwers, Jordyn Lewis, Juan Jimenez, Daniel
Hernandez
Poem by George Ibarra
Haiky by Taylor Paul and Famirka Then
Haiku by Taylor Paul and Famirka Then
Ronald Brid
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Clean up the blood
The war is won
Clear out the bodies
The battle is done
The war is over
No more wishing on
Horse shoes or 4 leaf clovers
Start the presses
Inform the crowd
No more violent messes
Scream it out loud
No more fighting
Peace is here
It‖s the time for laughing for happiness and cheer
All war has ended
All violence has stopped
All broken trusts are mended
All the accusations dropped
The world is one now
No more unfair discrimination
We‖re all united now
No more segregation
If only every one could
Put away their pride
Then scared civilians wouldn‖t have to hide
Peace on earth could
Finally be achieved
Love from everyone
Could be received
If only peace were
More then just a dream
But I‖m afraid it isn‖t
It never will
It seems….
Natalie Calvo
Pe
ace
on
Ea
rth
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Diana Angel
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Voice
I speak yet unheard.
Demeaning words drown my ears.
Then I learned to yell.
Those who sought to hurt
I bested with my bellow
Forcing them silent.
Unheard became heard
And perspectives were altered
So my song shall live.
Belen Caballero
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Reef Tyuse
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In Your Heart of Hearts
The closer you get to the light the greater your darkness becomes. As it length-ens and grows it becomes alive with an unquenchable thirst for darkness and evil. Living in a dark and black world where dark inky tendrils of dark matter snaking in and out of unknown places. This is the dark ancient people feared and avoided, it is the dark that sucks even the light deep inside you; sucked out of your soul only to be lost in the never ending emptiness. This place has no name they say so I have given it many. The abyss, the dark place, hell [with one l], the underworld, the vanishing lands, the dark plains, and the one I call it most Home….
And yet for every dark there must be a light, which also means there is a place where the dank dark evil is repelled and banished, destroyed and defeated. Where the light that was stolen is replenished and where the sun shines brightly and warmly for eternity, it is where the birds of legend fly with grace and beauty, and where light lulls you slowly to sleep with soft gentle breezes and cool smooth sounds. This place does have some names, some you know some you don‖t. The Garden of Eden, heaven, palace of the gods, the enlight-ened plains, and also home for you see your heart is to both. Beautiful good, and terrible coexist in all of us, but it is up to you to choose which one you want to be…
Christophe Blaize
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Nicole Cordoba
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The High School Experience
The bell rings at last
It‖s my favorite period
Finally, Lunch Time
The “scary” sophomores
Walking with Pride through the halls
“Step aside freshies!”
The Brand New Freshman
Looked down by Upper Classes
Waiting for next year
TERRA Senior High
Filled with great new beginnings
Above all the rest
Natalia Matamala
Nicole Cordoba
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On the balcony,
Half-torn nightgown stained with blood,
Bruises on her face.
Tears fall like stardust,
She looks beautiful in
Moonlight. Broken love.
She‖s got a love like
A hungry wolf on the prowl,
Half-dead. Ravenous.
Velvety brown eyes,
Hair like a spoon of honey,
Tips of pink fire.
She swims in remorse,
Drowning her sorrows. She
Deserves so much more.
Someone that treats her
Like some old-time princess in
A child‖s fable.
But right now her tears
Amplify the moonlight that
Falls on her sweet face.
I only hope that
She can love herself as much
As I love her now.
Her Prince
Michael De La Morena
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Je t‖adore
Je veux proclamé à Dieu
mes sentiments pour toi
Je t‖adore
Je voyage d‖ici au fin
du monde pour toi
Je t‖adore
Je travaille du matin
à nuit pour toi
Je t‖adore
Je traverse des champs pour
chercher une belle rose comme toi
Je t‖adore
Je me suis blessé quand j‖ai
le coup de foudre pour toi
Je t‖adore
Mon amour.
Jorge E. Perdomo
Translation:
I want to proclaim to God
my feelings for you
I adore you
I travel from here to the
end of the world for you
I adore you
I work from morning ―til
night for you
I adore you
I traverse the fields in search
of a beautiful rose like you
I adore you
I got hurt when I
fell in love with you
I adore you
My love.
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Je t‖adore
Je veux proclamé à Dieu
mes sentiments pour toi
Je t‖adore
Je voyage d‖ici au fin
du monde pour toi
Je t‖adore
Je travaille du matin
à nuit pour toi
Je t‖adore
Je traverse des champs pour
chercher une belle rose comme toi
Je t‖adore
Je me suis blessé quand j‖ai
le coup de foudre pour toi
Je t‖adore
Mon amour.
Jorge E. Perdomo
Je t‖aime
Tu m‖incites
chaque jour.
Mon amour,
je te donne mon cœur.
Je rêve de toi
chaque nuit
quand je dors
et quand il n‖y a pas de bruit.
Je te remercie
pour être dans ma vie
et pour être un bon ami.
Pour ces raisons, je ne vais ja-mais partir.
Elise Alfonso
Translation:
You give me butterflies
every day.
My love,
I give you my heart.
I dream of you
every night
when I sleep
and when there is no noise.
I thank you
for being in my life
and for being a good friend.
For these reasons, I will never leave
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Janie Salvatore
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Music
Singing to my soul
Beats rush past me gracefully
Leaving me speechless
Gabriela Mendez
Nicole Cordoba Janie Salvatore
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Jennifer Hidalgo
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Personalities Take Time
I guess if you could describe in one word, limiting, it would be vivid.
I almost feel stupid writing about myself.
It feels like something I would try to run from, but like a bug I am attracted to the light.
And we all have two faces.
We don‖t always want to admit to our treachery.
I‖m gonna start with my conscience because it is my skeleton.
And at many different inferences in my life I have wondered what is this?
This existence.
Don‖t get me wrong though I wouldn‖t have it any other way.
I can feel the color draining like raindrops down my neck down my body, there‖s no one else to blame but this one part of me called guilt.
And I like deep thoughts I like reading between the lines when there are no spaces for me to find,
Where the lines may overlap.
I like to play guitar and touch the keys with their melodic souls floating into my fingertips.
I will spend a lifetime trying to find love even though I know already where to look.
I tend to make things harder then they were ever meant to be.
Analyzing.
I‖ve been told I‖m confusing.
And I ―d like to believe that what I see is truth.
Because I‖ve come to far to have to start all over.
And I pray to God almighty that one day I will feel security.
That‖s all I ever needed.
I‖ve got something called a sin nature though.
And I‖ve caused my own problems many times before; I think that‖ why God sometimes leaves me to my own devices.
I‖m not forsaken, not only, just a little lost.
The irony in this all is I couldn‖t live without my problems, without my problems I would be perfect and I don‖t want to be perfect, I just want to race to perfection like everyone else.
O‖ yes I am a strange case.
Raquel Koela Jennifer Hidalgo
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Message from War
Dear Jackie Smith,
I regret to inform you this week your son has died in battle
His bunker was hit by a grenade and he got rattled,
He ran out to get away,
By misfortune this time he was hit with a grenade
…what a shame
He was a strong, courageous and heroic man.
His body is being sent back to the main land,
The coffin will honorably have a flag, it‖s a drag,
So many young men have to die in these days
In many different ways
To protect people who don‖t respect,
The intent
Of our country
The world is hungry for a change in the system
This isn‖t a schism or a mirage
Because every country is flawed.
Sincerely,
Cpt. McHenry
Javier Liens
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Emily Juliao
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Raquel Koch
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The lives and Times of your Kids: The Auction
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You ask us where we are going with our lives,
Saying days are only twenty-four hours; don‖t take a dive,
Spending hours masquerading in a world of music and rhyme,
In the land of make believe, it is always party time.
We are told that there was magic in the times of old,
But is that beauty fading as this generation unfolds?
Kids need love, trust and confidence like you were shown,
Can more loving and caring be known?
You say we chill with too many episodes of fantasy from TV;
It is our escape from reality moving toward a like of poverty.
Our hearts are laden with burdens we are bearing alone,
Mom and dad please step forward and help us make it home.
Getting in touch with our feelings is a must at this age,
We are looking for a way out but only see a distorted page.
Life is not a tale to be told for moments of amusement,
Do not mislead us and cause our energies to be misspent.
Teach us to value our time and most of all enjoy life,
Show us how to exclude people who will cause us strife.
Ladies and Gentlemen, the auction has begun; what is your bid?
Going once, going twice – sold the lives and times of your kids!
Akilah Hill-Hamler
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The Hunt
The moon is rising,
The wolf pack begins to run,
They will soon hunt.
The moon is calling,
The prey doesn‖t know to run,
Its journey ends now.
They soon sight their prey,
Then picking one from the herd,
No one hears its cries.
The hunt is over,
The pack is still hungry,
And so it begins….
Anthony Vazquez
Kaelin Martin
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Nicole Cordoba Kaelin Martin
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Leaves fall.
Suddenly, the lakes
Trap life inside themselves.
-Daniel Manyari
Chloe Castanon
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Nature
By
Christopher Estrella
Whistling Freely
The leaves swam in an air lake
Construction and noise
Scaring the leaves away
Makes nature retreat, shrinking
It down leaving leaves
With no place of their
Own, nature vanishing with
No stopping at all
Chloe Castanon
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Ballet
By
Samantha Atherly
The ballerina
Twirls ever so gracefully
Across the floor
In 5th position
She shines around the stage
With agile speed
Her Pointe shoes glide
The curtain draws to a close
The bows are given
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Isleydi Rodriguez
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The Viking at Stamford Bridge
By
Anthony Vazquez
In the month of September, ten sixty-sox, during the hours ruled over nix,
A battle was fought, over Stamford town, and a warrior rose and stood his ground.
The English were crafty, they ran all through the night, they wanted to crush, them and show off their might.
They ran all the way to the old wood ford and what they then saw shocked them to the core.
A lone soldier stood bravely, while his comrades regrouped, and an axe and a shield, not even boots.
He hacked and he slashed, not a man before him stood.
They swore vengeance against him, but none could hold good.
An army he fought, bringing down every one, getting lower and lower until there were none.
The berserker became weary, not watching where he stood, for the plank he stood over had a hole in the wood.
A cowardly creature crept under the bridge and stabbed the great Viking where no man should hit.
The soldier knelt wounded while they pressed the attack.
At last he felt the need to fall back.
The enemy surged forth, there was naught that he could do, and they cut the great warrior down where he stood.
His ploy had bought time for his comrades to fight back and bodies of the English were surely not lacked.
Though we do not know the name of the man while he loved, he will forever be known as the Viking of Stamford Bridge.
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Reef Tyuse
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Ronald Brid
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The Tale of the Tiny Tail
By
Alex Saavedra
This rat had a tiny tail
One, none like all other
Everyone would laugh and stare
Even his mother
Why wont they let me play
With all the rest?
If they put me in the game
I‖ll try to do my best
I always asked my dad
Why can‖t I have any fun?
You‖re not like them
You have a stunted tail my son
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Isleydi Rodriguez
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Friendship Poem
By
Andreina Hernandez
The way to treat me might be good or bad
But I am happy that you are the beat thing I‖ve ever had
Sure you may be angry or disappointed at me
But that makes our friendship multiply times three
I‖ll be there for you no matter what
Even if you make a fuss
We will always find a way
To help each other everyday
Until…someone walks in and makes you blind
Which causes us to leave our friendship behind
It makes me wonder if she caused this wall
That keeps you and me from standing tall
But either way, I will be there
And be with you, talking about the memories we share
You will always be my best friend
And nothing will keep us separated until the end
Isleydi Rodriguez
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Isleydi Rodriguez
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Night sky, silk hands
Climbing into warm horizons, a
Touch of sun cradling
Waking souls.
Dust rising off dormant animals
Breath of morning, as gold
Hands comb through dewdrops
She peeks into my window, wag-gling
Fingertips of light in my slanted eyes
Opening my dark mind to day.
Each moment of light is
Burned into my memory
By her golden fingertips.
- Oriana Daly
Emma Lee
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Isleydi Rodriguez
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Reef Tyuse
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The Crows
By
Anthony Vasquez
The creatures fly fast to the fields of war, drawn by the clashing and clanging of swords.
Guided by instinct, like all those before, they know they will feast on acres of gore.
The birds know naught who fights or why, yet the air fills with their harsh cries. They know from instinct, like those gone before, they know they will feast on acres of gore.
The victors victorious, the losers defeated, yet their hunger is still not abated. Yet not far away they hear the clashing of swords, tell-ing them they will feast on acres of gore.
Reef Tyuse
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There is not much that
I can say to change the way
I feel about you.
There is a monster
I hit him with some Jell-O
He became a chair.
I love my red bike
But one day everything changed
It became yellow.
I write a haiku
―Twas about you. It was great
but I lied a lot.
Sketch: Reef Tyuse
Haikus By
Christopher Latile and Miguel Botran
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Reef Tyuse
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Oscar Mendez
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Lunchroom
By
Amanda Brunner
Think or eat
That‖s pretty bad
Especially when it‖s social hour
The time to gossip
And do what they please
When really we‖re just too busy
Joking and laughing a large room full
Of tables and people
Too crowded to declare
Your own space
It‖s all a rush of gunk
The cafeteria is serving
Two people hiding secrets
It‖s all motley
All too confusing for words
It‖s like a disease
Incurable and unruly
But all it is, is a lunchroom
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Reef Tyuse
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Raquel Koch
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William Molina
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Ode to Potatoes
by
Daniel Vazquez
Potatoes, warm, fuzzy, and brown
Nothing can take it down
The crispy taste is the best
Wearing a salty and oil covered vest
Sizzling sweet sounds calling me
To that oily sea
Where they are drowning temporarily
So let then be
Sweet smelling salt
Sprinkling as they dry off
In a blinding light
Waiting to be eaten
As they‖re being packed
They‖re all wondering
Who will go first?
Who will go last?
William Molina
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Glittering gold warmth
Fingertips of sun, reaching
Far into the skies.
Oriana Daly
Ivo Smink
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Glittering gold warmth
Fingertips of sun, reaching
Far into the skies.
Oriana Daly
Ivo Smink
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Roses and Music
By Michelle Castillo
There she sits beside me, with her drawn on headphones and her ―too cool for school‖ attitude. Her quietness irks me; it‖s as if her voice isn‖t necessary, as if her mere presence could say it all. I look over. She is scribbling away on a notebook in a language that is foreign to me-- her thoughts. She seems too absorbed in her writing to notice my staring. Perhaps I am studying her, or perhaps I want to see what makes her tick. I am suddenly distracted by a voice and am forced to look away, though I observe her from the corner of my eye. I see her pick up her headphones. She evaluates the right side with a critical eye and, as if unsatisfied, makes harsh corrections with her pencil. Her thumb passes over a space and she finally smiles proudly: the rose, now completed, is a simple beauty. As I observe her I seem to become one with her. I can feel the loneliness she is feeling as she looks longingly at the empty seat in front of her. Yet I also feel that she longs to be part of something more. She doesn‖t want to be the lonely girl sitting quietly in the cor-ner of the class. She wants to smile, laugh, maybe even joke with oth-ers, as ridiculous as she thinks it is. The headphones are back on her head as she listens to music that isn‖t really there. She has now blocked out the world. The bell rings and she tiresomely picks up her belongings, plac-ing her dead iPod in her back pocket. I stall to watch her go; wisps of her clipped up hair fall in curls around her neck and her hips carry the weight of her belongings, swaying as she walks out the door. I feel a cold chill pass over me when she is gone, for I know now she will put on a happy face for the world. But only I know the truth. I know that far beyond the roses and music lays a girl who wishes for more.
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Jennifer Hidalgo
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Nicole Cordoba
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Nicole Cordoba
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Victoria Silveyra
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The “I Am” Poem
By Jessica Gonzalez
I am mostly sunny with a 20 percent chance of rain.
I am the 11:11 wish maker,
Typically naive and
At times a risk taker.
Big frame,
Sturdy enough to hold the pretty picture.
I am the third and fourth hands of my mother‖s in the kitchen.
As well as her second pair or ears when she needs someone to listen.
I am bulging puppy brown eyes,
Which can detect the truth obscured by lies.
I am like the moon, pale and mysterious.
Prior lessons have taught me not to take life too serious.
I am, I have, my own say in every decision I make,
And with each one a further step I take,
Into fulfilling the goals for which I have set.
Knowing that given time...
They will all be met.
The past I no longer mourn,
For every rose has it‖s share of thorns.
They were merely apart of life‖s lessons I have learned,
From the obstacles that have previously occurred.
What kills us only makes us stronger,
Or so I have heard.
I am open to words from the wise,
Which can range from everyday people,
To those who won the Nobel Prize.
Listening to stories of others has always been a pleasure of mine.
It‖s like learning from others who have been in your position,
Once adolescent,
But made the transition.
Into, a full grown adult, which
I am not to far from.
Victoria Silveyra
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L'impossible
Les jours ne passent pas Sans les souvenirs de mon temps avec toi
Tu me fais sentir folle Pour avoir perdu le contrôle
J'ai pensé que j'avais perdu mon amour. Maintenant, je ne suis pas sûre.
Je te regarde, et tu n'es pas seul.
Tu la regardes; elle est très drôle. Quand je la vois, mon cœur s'arrête.
Je ne suis pas bête, mais je veux t'avoir Même quand il n'y a pas d'espoir.
Au revoir! Au revoir!
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The Impossible The days don‖t pass Without the memories of my time with you. You make me feel crazy For having lost my control. I thought that I had lost my love for you But now, I am not so sure. I watch you, and you aren‖t alone. You watch her, and she‖s great. When I see her, my heart stops. I am not dumb, but I want you Even though there is no hope. Goodbye! Goodbye!
Olivia Sanchez
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Raquel Koch
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Raquel Koch
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Victoria Silveyra
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Excerpt from Chapter 1 of "Painting on the Canvas of the Mystery of Melody"
By
Christian McCrimmon
Minutes slowly ticked by as the city commenced in it's casual routine, and all seemed normal until the arrival of an unexpected foreigner, Saturn. His beauti-ful silhouette was cast in the lavender sunset of the city's outskirts, which were faintly marked by the scattered growth of feeble grasses and the hazy smog that enveloped the air. Saturn was a dynamic athlete, his step continuing at a steady velocity, his lean frame revealed muscles with every contraction his body made. Saturn's disheveled hair rustled in the light breeze, a jet black mane that danced with locks of a cerulean blue. His eyes were slate orbs that contrasted off his tanned skin, his mouth was tilted into a crooked smile, and a silver captive ring hung delicately from his septum. Although his clothing was torn and dirty, an air of confidence and sophistication encircled him. A cluster of necklaces and brace-lets adorned his body, all handmade by himself over time. The city could only watch in wonder and awe as the suspicious gypsy entered casually, searching for his only destination: his sister's home.
It's been almost two years since Saturn had visited his sister, yet the passage to her house remained a vivid image in his mind. The dingy apartment community in which his sister lived lined the street for half a mile, and Saturn's destination soon came within sight. Although his veneer reflected only a mildly contented at-titude, Saturn was ecstatic. Thoughts on the arrival to his sister's home clouded his mind, and he constantly wondered how she had been. She meant everything to him, and he worked his absolute hardest to be able to visit her. In his last visit, he had stayed for three weeks because his sister was a sickly girl, and caught a virus. Now he was ready to visit his sister, hoping for her good health.
The dirty steps to the apartment were extremely congested, just like he re-membered, cautiously placing one foot in front of the other until he reached Apartment Number 7C. Saturn approached the door, knocking slowly but loud enough to be heard. The knock echoed in his sister's room as if it were a coconut's interior. A minute slowly ticked by, and Saturn's expression swayed from con-tented to anxious. He knocked once more, this time reached for the brass door-knob afterwards, and turned it so that it only slightly creaked open. The house was as silent as a sleeping baby's nursery.
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"Melody?" Saturn called out feebly, peeking into the cluttered room. There was no answer. Instead, an eerie silence loomed. He pushed the door aside, biting his lip. The apartment was only composed of two rooms, the first room; which contained the kitchen, and the artist's room; a colourful room which was con-gested with buckets of paint, easels, brushes, canvases, artwork, and other materi-als. Saturn saw no signs of life in the apartment, and crept slowly to the artist's room. A colourful piece, the room itself was artwork. He stood in awe at the beauty, looking only up to observe the beautiful pieces which hung from the room and walls. People, places, animals, expressions... The room's artwork expanded on every possible subject, in a symbolic approach. Even delicate pieces were carefully positioned to be held strongly. However, when Saturn looked down, he saw per-haps the most fragile piece in the room; his sister's corpse lying motionless on the floor.
Isleydi Rodriguez
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Friends or Foes? By Kylie Alvarez
They‖re supposed to be the ones who always have your back Tell you the truth even if it sounds whack I thought you were the one that I could always count on But when I needed you the most, you were gone Now… you go behind my back and tell everyone lies Yet when I confront you about them, you don‖t tell me why I feel bad for you since all you care about is getting attention I know I could never trust you with my well earned pension Well guess what… do I have news for you I have real friends now and they are loyal too So thank you for setting an example of what a person should never be With a personality like yours, you‖ll always be lonely.
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Taylor Paul
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Reef Tyuse
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Nicole Cordoba
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An old silent night It seems so far for me I bid farewell
Rebecca Gonzalez
Nicole Cordoba
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Group Haikus Moriah Houwers, Jordyn Lewis, Juan Jimenez, Daniel Hernandez
Haikus are stupid,
They give me so many headaches,
What‖s the point of them.
Juan needs a haircut,
I should give it to him now,
Where are my scissors?
Victoria Silveyra
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Group Haikus Moriah Houwers, Jordyn Lewis, Juan Jimenez, Daniel Hernandez
I like poetry,
I lie about liking poetry,
Do you like poetry?
I lost my red kite,
Can you find my red kite please,
Do you have my kite.
We are being forced,
To write a random poem,
They are called haiku‖s.
Victoria Silveyra
Oscar Mendez
78
In a dark void of a world,
She provides the light,
She is the heart of the sun,
The apple of my eye,
She is the spring time,
She has eyes of the night‖s stars,
A smile of glistening pearls,
Is she an illusion?
A dream?
No,
She‖s real,
Yet unreal,
She‖s as close to perfect as possible
George Ibarra
79
Nicole Cordoba
80
The sun shines daily
It provides us all with light
Then sets every night
Taylor Paul and Famirka Then
Chloe Castanon
81
Chloe Castanon
The waves crash gently
The sailor loses his knife
Provides the fish with life
Taylor Paul and Famirka Then
82
Catalina Mellado
83
Catalina Mellado
84