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MosaicMosaic

A Student Anthology of Verbal and Visual ArtStudent Anthology of Verbal and Visual Art

2 32013oylan Catholic High SchoolBoylan Catholic High School4000 St. Francis Dr.4000 St. Francis Dr.Rockford IL 61103Rockford, IL 61103

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Mosaic 2

Tick tock, tick tock,The clock keeps running.Tick tock, tick tock,Wake up tired, but youve slept eight hoursTick tock tick tockPlanning for test, and organizing the thoughts in my headBuzzing like bees, but it never ends.Homework and tests keep rolling on throughBut you tell yourself that As dont earn themselvesKeep moving!Tick tock tick tock, the clock keeps runningWheres the time gone?

College? Arent I still a freshman?Tick tock tick tockFacebooks calling, along with your TV and summerHang up! Theres no time. Your ACT is next weekTick tock tick tock20 minute gone. Plan, organize, and keep movingTick tock tick tockFatigued and sore but you keep on goingTock tock tick tockSTOP.Breathe in the quiet black silence

No thoughts, no words, simplicity.Just rest.But then...Tick tock, tick tock, the clock keeps moving.

Emilia Hickey 2014Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest

First Place

The Clock Keeps Moving

Time FliesBailey Sullivan 2015

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Blistering snow suited well his cold heart Vague lights guiding her home warned her dull shirtThey were two sets of bones that fell apart

He wrote her heart and fell on bloody shinsShe vowed never again and broke his trust The carpet now crimson smelled of her lifeHer veins forever more an icy frost Green eyes not waving with fresh lovely lifeHe thrashed awake screaming for her lifes sake By his side, her long lashes held his gazeSighs of relief lled the air, shes awake He cried, his mind a terrifying maze.Lips sobbed an unfamiliar amen She said, Didnt I vow never again?

Sleeping Sickness

Bella Fortin 2015Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest

Finalist

ClaustrophobicAna Maria Gavranovic 2013

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Mosaic 4

The melting sun sang a song that drained the heat that drained the breaths of those that didntwatch, but would have, and would have acted if they had known. The waves directed the sunthrough the harmony of the day. Her body was a ash, a blur that blended with the sand. A strainedsplash, her head bobbed in the water like a boat in storm. Then, it sank; like ies to esh, the waterengulfed her body, encompassed her being. The leaf swirled to the right, to the left right left, andrested on the earth, only a hum in the endless tree of song.

Song of the Day

Jeremiah Zuba 2013

HeightsSamantha Erdmier 2013

UntitledAnna Girgenti 2014

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SurrealAndrea Carlson 2015

Now You See Them...Ben Satterlee 2016

My contact out in one eyeMy open case, grimy and stained

From seen lie.My teeth, all color changedCarry a different hue from open mouth.They speak only words of the blamed.From desert hills, all headed south.Down to ridges and creases of tattered clothes.Off. No more sins from a silent mouth.Torn shoes leave nothing more to exposeGravest woes come from stomachs pitWithout the light, I begin to doze.Among crevices and corners and tiny slitsis where I begin to feel the grit.

Terza Rima

Luis Vargas 2013

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Mosaic 6

A heavy fall day, oppressing as summer,The sun so hot it could curdle dairyIn less than an hour, one short, short hour,Out in the sun, amongst corn and three friends,

Four girls unknowing, bright faces shining,Silly in the heat of the day.

Sandaled and sneakered, ready to roll,So different from each other we went out togetherPosed in a moment of bright, fall happiness,Four goofs play around on a pumpkin patch stoolMeant for children, not teens, but what did it matter?On a bright fall day with the corn and the dairy.

A playful vacation of jesters and fools

Three stooges and I, so unawareBlissful, gleeful, delightful dopes.Ignorant children happy and free,So clearly carefree amongst corn and dairy,The three stooges and I, me, the fool.

The corn for Thanksgiving with turkey and butterAlways better remembered than memory truth.But the dairy, it curdled, in the heavy dense airNo new milk for me, poor fool of the four,Whose stomach turns sour in sorrow and loss,For the departure of sages from the corn and the dairy.

KT Francisco 2014Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest

Finalist

Lactose Intolerant

Seek the FrogWendy Flores 2016

Untitled Self Clare Tobin 2015

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Its a nice day in BostonJoy is in the airThey go to see them nish

But they are unaware. (Bryan Pearse)

This sunny day in BostonWill slowly turn awryWhile running in a marathonNobody expected to die. (Danika Hateld)

The air was lled with excitementFinish line in open lightRacing with anticipationNo one saw any danger in sight. (Claire Nielsen)

Not a single person saw the tragedy coming.On a day that had marathon runners ignitedUnaware that they would soon be humbledBy a bomb that made their town united.(Morgan Witt)

We thought it was a normal dayBut suddenly things would changeUnexpectedly there was a loud BOOMEveryone in total shock throughout the range.

(Michaela Garza)

What we thought was just a simple raceSoon turned into grave painRecalling the destruction doneIt truly was insane. (Danny Gorman)

The nish line is so close now.As Im catching my breath,I see my children waving at meBefore their sudden deaths. (Andrea Valerio)

I see the line to end the raceI know Ive made it farBut somethings wrong at the nish lineSomeones in a getaway car. (Sarah Morrissey)

The sun shining up aboveThe nish line in viewThe winners passing through the lineBomb went off, we saw the unlucky few.(Spencer Solon)

Standing at the nish line

Then the world takes a breathWe hear a loud explosion nearOur hearts sink with fear. (Brendan Shumaker)

I can see the runners comingSweat dripping down their facesThe audience cheers them onThen theyre frozen in place. (Reilly Symonds)

The race is coming to an endI can see the lineBoom, boom how did I get down here?I dont think I will be ne. (Corina Roy)

A few more steps, Im almost doneI cross the line but with a coughGoing to the medical tentI hear the screams and the bombs go off.(Mikey Rodriguez)

I made a long trip to Boston

I wanted to run so fastHad I run a minute quicker,Id have survived the blast. (Cassidy Foley)

After crossing the nish lineThinking it was all doneI had no more worries in mindUntil someone yelled, RUN. (Claire Kosek)

They ran through streets of smoke and reThen found the wounded screaming

Can this day get any worse?I just wish that I were dreaming.(Luke Bergstrom)

Run, run, run as fast as you can.Piercing noise hit the land.People screamed, Whats happening?Is it contraband? (Gustavo Zuninga)

The Ballad of the Boston MarathonAmerican Lit 3rd Hour with Mrs. Davies

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Mosaic 8

And the crowd was in an uproar.All their faces sank.Horried expressions aroseTheir faces went white, then blank.(Josh Reichardt)

Two men had planted bombs in BostonRunners expecting praise and applauseNo one had claimed a trophyAnd no one had distrust of the law.(Raymon Sigala)

They are never coming backNothing will ever be the sameThe bombers have no heartBut now they have all the fame. (Katie Williams)

Look beyond the veil of evilMany helped, many prayedGood will outshone the evil actOn that one tragic day. (Nichole Kennedy)

It was a day that people will rememberFrom the terror of that dayAs it brought the country togetherAnd united us along the way. (Adam LaMarca)

Tragedy dened the marathonThe news ooded with suspectsFellow Americans began to payThe tearful last respects. (Tom Sankaran)

Still I wake at night, screamingI had seen those two menWeaving past as I had a stretchThose murderous men. (Katie Grubb)

BowsKayla Rippon 2013

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Her little boy speaks aloud,Mommy, is Daddy soon coming in?Weve been waiting here all day longFor him to cross the line and win.

My feet are getting sore.I almost want to leave,

But I guess itll all be worth itFor what Daddy will achieve.

Her daughter lets out a shriekAs she runs around to play.Never knowing what would happenLater that awful day.

The family of three waits at the lineFor their spouse and father to cross,Here in the town of Boston,But in the end, everyone lost.

Her daughter turned to ask,When will Daddy come?But the nthe world went up in smoke and ame,The streets resonating with the hum.

She screamed out for her childrenWhile her daughter just plain screamed.Her son would never scream again

The bombs his life had reamed.

Daddy rounded the cornerExpecting his familys cheersInstead he saw the chaosAnd a whole nations tears.

Jane Horvat 2014Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest

Finalist

Patriots Day

MudrasKelsey Gugliuzza 2013

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Mosaic 10

Nest of EaglesMegan Peterson 2016

Self PortraitAryanna Gelao 2015

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Bang, Boom, BamThe Jet lifts off the runway

Hes got his mission

Bang, Boom, BamHe has no time to strayHe must y over the seasHes got his mission

Bang, Boom, BamHe sees land not far awayThe factory is in the treesHes got his mission

Bang, Boom, BamThe people are going about their merry wayThis is against what I believeHe forgot his mission.

Bombs

Eric Gendron 2013

UntitledEmily Gibson 2016

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Mosaic 12

FleursBreanna Stutsman 2015

MoneyElizabeth Hilby 2013

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As he looked down at his old baby grand,It made the old man think of his lost love.

Oh, how she used to play so with her hands!I see her play the same way from above.

They played together time and time again,All those sweet memories have made him cry.Throughout their lives, nothing short of best friends,He simply did not want to say goodbye.

He played their songs; theyd helped him through tough times,And talked to relatives to help him cope.The songs that once were ours are now just mine,

But still, my lifes full of nothing but hope.

I know that Ill see her again someday,Just like the fateful day we met in May.

Max Cichock 2016Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest

Finalist

The Old Pianist

Mix TapesAlex Newton 2014

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Mosaic 16

Suit and Tie GuyJoey Pritz 2015

DaydreamsBailey Frisch 2013

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Bright white light blinds passersbyTires squeal and slide on slick concreteMouth opens wide in silent cryKnuckles gripped tight, body stiff in seatWindshield wipers slap side to sideFuriously pushing away the cold, driving sleet.Hand honks horn, eyes open wideThe world spins out of controlAs the car starts to slideHands on wheel lose their holdMetal and glass y dangerously nearWhere one little girl dances in the coldShe looks up in the screeching skid but stands frozen in fear

In the beam of the headlight, no time to interfere.

Uncontrollable Fate

Emily Schnoor 2013Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest

Finalist

UntitledKT Francisco 2014

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Mosaic 18

She stepped out against the coldwind that had come to meet her.

The chill grabbed her andpulled her soul out to meet him.Her face was slowly sinking. Wasting.Wasting as her heart was never called upon. She held his hand, but the other was clenched around her wrist. Held herself together, but her ngers were slipping.

Casey Mullen 2013

The Chill

ClutchAlyssa Steinhagen 2013

LionessAlena Eitenmiller 2013

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You are the only thing I have left:sweet sound of which I am afraid.you put words to my anguish,breathe air into my lungs andwarmth into my heart.your rhythms pump beatsyour bass, your trebleeach one catapults like a skydiverrips open my eyes and screamsobscenities at my sorrow.when the world has left me broken,

you, sweet music, cloud my mindwith visions of happiness.cowering among the blankets,we sit among the darknessand let shadows and songsrule our hearts.

Ode to Music

Alyssa Noonen 2015Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest

Finalist

Van Goghs Bedroom at ArlesKatelin Fuenty 2013

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Mosaic 20

No one ever thinksabout meor thinks about the optionof me ever being morethan just that girl

who sits in the backwith her hair downand the lipstick on,looking pretty butnot pretty enough.

No one ever thinksAbout meor about the factthat just becausemy heart beats softly,It still needssomeone to come closeenough to listen.

No one ever thinksabout meor about the wayI try so hard tocross your mindeven once,because youve been on minesince the moment I saw your smile

light up the world and everyone on it.

No one ever thinksabout meor about the beating heartIm leaving in your handsbecause its not even worth asecond glance, let alone aconversation able to upholdanything more thana happy hello and a painful goodbye.

No one ever thinksabout meor considers mebecause I am meandthats never good enoughfor anyone else.

Emily Godin 2016Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest

Finalist

The impressive art of blending

Hobbit HoleMonica Skryzpczak 2014

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Wannabe Princess Syndrome (WPS)

This serious disease occurs when there are dangerously high levels of princesstrogen in theright side of a persons brain; this disease is the epitome of letting your imagination take over your

life. In extreme cases, the disease can become life-threatening and should be diagnosed as soon aspossible so that medical treatment can begin before things get seriously out of hand.

Patients: WPS affects mainly women, but in some cases it can affect men as well. It generally de-velops between the ages of 15 and 40 but has been seen in people as young as 13 and as old as 52.Research has shown that of every 100 patients of WPS, 92 percent of the patients are women andeight percent are men.

Symptoms: Symptoms of WPS vary widely from case to case, however they all have a similarthemethe attempt to lead a life that is like that of a fairy tale princess. The patient may buy aspinning wheel so as to practice pricking his/her own nger on it and falling dramatically to theground as if dead. They may only eat apples or show particular interest in nding families of sevenlittle people to live with. They may try singing to animals or even invite animals into their homesto help them clean up the house. They may have an issue keeping both of their shoes on, andwhen they do lose a shoe, they just leave it hoping that someone will pick it up and wisk them offto a castle. Patients may attempt to grow their hair long enough so that it reaches the ground fromthe upper story of their house. They may kiss frogs. Some have gone so far as to order twenty mat-tresses and put a pea on the bottom one and try to sleep like that. In extreme cases, patients havebeen known to lock themselves up in towers and refuse to leave until rescued by a knight in shiningarmor. In the most serious cases, some have eaten poisoned apples with the impression that trueloves kiss will save them from death.

Diagnosis: Diagnosis for this disease cannot occur until after the age of 13 because children below

this age often allow their imaginations to run wild. However after this age, if symptoms above getworse or continue, it is best to consult a physician. Before a diagnosis can be made, a series of testsmust be taken. This includes a spoken test with a series of questions about how the patient feelsabout certain things like wearing tiaras in public and whether or not animals can talk. Each answeris recorded and then scored on a 1 to 10 scale. The answer to the following question received a 10(This is an actual answer given by a person suffering from a serious case of WPS):

Question: Is it possible for animals to help with chores?

Answer: Of course it is! What would make anyone ask a silly question like that? They can doall sorts of things: the birds can put away lightweight objects, the squirrels are great at doinglaundry, and the mice are the best at sewing and other craft-related chores! They help mealmost every day.

The higher the end score, the more likely the patient is aficted with this serious disease. If the endscore exceeds 45, it is highly suggested by 97 percent of doctors that a brain scan is performed onthe patient. This is the best way to tell exactly whether or not a person is suffering from this dis-ease. If they are aficted, a recently discovered hormone known as princesstrogen will be highlyprominent in the right side of the brain. High levels of princesstrogen cause the aficted area to giveoff a pink sparkly almost glow, and lead to the previously listed symptoms.

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Mosaic 22

Treatment: Once it is determined by doctors that a patient is suffering from WPS, most are ableto receive treatment at home as long as there is a responsible person present to ensure treatmenttakes place, since it is generally disliked by patients. In very extreme cases, treatment must takeplace at a hospital because the patient may be a danger to themselves until they have undergoneseveral weeks of treatment.

Treating this disease is quite simple. There are two parts to the treatment: the patient mustwatch horror lms and documentaries and read biographies and autobiographies, and the patient

must take daily doses of Realatrin as prescribed by his or her physician.WPS is not a condition to be taken lightly and should therefore be treated as soon as possiblebecause it can be potentially life threatening. If you suspect that you or a loved one is sufferingfrom WPS, set up an appointment with your local physician immediately.

Lauren Hagedorn 2014Robert Collins Creative Writing Award

Recipient

The ForestEmma Fredrickson 2015

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Its routine the questions she asksEvery week its the same,Every ve minutes sometimes tenShell smile and ask the same questions again simply becauseShe cannot rememberThe weather, the date, my age, my gradeIts routine because she cannot rememberI smile sadly and answer each time each answer always the sameAgain and again she will ask me, simply becauseShe cannot remember.While it pains me to answer Im grateful as I leave simply becauseShe can remember my name.

Because she cannot remember

Hannah Massari 2015Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest

Finalist

Mountains AwayPaige Bauling 2013

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Mosaic 24

Doll FaceJada Hauser 2013

ChimpeyesMadeline Nelson 2015

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Levels of SecurityMegan Coady 2016

City LivingSandra Vaughn 2013

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Mosaic 26

When helpless hands scream in the silence of your soulYour manic mouth rips at the sealBarred by the shackles of sorrow that makeYour bones vibrate to the beat of the rain,Drenched with the chill of the dark.

When your ears burst in ice, numb and void of thought,your mind gently sinksoff a cliff.Floating at rst, almost ying until there isNothingBut the dagger-dug rocks of your memory.You gasp and plead.

Your hands snag on the barbed wire fence of pityWhile your stomach, skips a breath.

The sky is jagged and the ground is grey.Your feet toss themselves high, lost in the rocks they call sky.A ghost in the light,

Aimlessly walking whileYour cuts begin to callus.Your breath questions why your heart grows rough,

Until glazed eyes forget the feeling of a silk soul.

Somewhere along the string of solitude, your world ippeddownside up, quietly watching your limp body ooze life on the clouds.Sometimes your hands hear the gentle screams of your heartHelpless hands lostamidst the rocks inside your soul.

Helpless Hands

Jeremiah Zuba 2013Fine Arts Fair Poetry ContestFinalist

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EnzoSpencer Giardini 2013

UntitledAlysia Alfano 2015

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Mosaic 28

He enlists during his junior yearHe feels he has nothing to fearpacks his bag and heads for war

he is a part of the United States Marine Corps

His family weeps and criespraying he comes home alivehis classmates wish him luckthen he suits up and puts on his ruck

This is the story of a soldierputting his life on the line for yours and minethere are only a few of his kindsearching within themselves for something to nd

He steps on the battleeld ready to ghtbullets whizzing by he sees no lighthes hit in the chest and falls to the groundthe sergeant screams, Man down!

Hes layed up against a rockout of bandages, they use a sockthinking of his family he begins to cryin pain and coughing, the soldier starts to die

This is the story of a soldierputting his life on the line for yours and mineThere are only a few of his kindsearching within themselves for something to nd

His eyes begin to closehe exhales and his heart slowshe bleeds his last dropthe medic feels his heart stop

A knock on the door bring sorrowfor the soldier, there will be no tomorrowhe died so you and I can be freethe price for freedom is a large fee

A soldier story

Graham Alt 2015Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest

Finalist

One DirectionCassie Stear 2016

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Mosaic 30

The dancer cries,the script rips,the boy lies,the girl trips,the lights shine,the line slips,this love of mine,is far from true,the song divine,ows from you,the teacher sighs,

the stage turns blue,into your eyes,my spirit ies

Rehearsal

Maggie Priola 2013

ClassicalMelanie Thimms 2015

Split PersonalityJennifer Peters 2014

Helen Salamone Cuppini 36Memorial Scholarship

Artist 2013-2014

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Just Because I Stop...

Just because I stopDoesnt mean Im doneDoesnt mean Ive stopped caringDoesnt mean Im a failure

Just because I stopOnly means Ive given all I can giveHelps me to start againTells me when I cant go anymore

Just because I stopDoesnt mean I quitDoesnt mean Im weakDoesnt mean I stand aloneJust because I stopdoesnt mean Ive given up on success.

Fernard Harris 2016Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest

Finalist

UntitledKarolyn Erickson 2014

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Mosaic 32

Hidden BeautySamantha Bretl 2013

UntitledMarian Reyes 2014

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Phillip was a handsome man.A lot more handsome than me.He trotted around town on his white stallion,

impressing everyone with his pricey clothes,clean bleach-blond hair,white smile,and massive arms.Behind him, the stallion pulled a ship-sized wagoncontaining hundreds of polished woodworks that he planned to sell.He greeted the townsfolk,muscles moving more with every word he spoke.My belly bounced as I bowled over onto my cushion seat at the front of my house.I downed my sixth drink for the morning.

The sun had just risen.He trotted by me,laughing with his chest perked up,wagon following behind.He stopped,looked at me and my stained shirt,laughed,and pulled out a night crawler from his pocket.He dangled it in front of his mouth for a bit,and in one swift swig,swallowed the worm straight down his throat.I puked.He laughed,and continued on his path.

Nolan Alt 2013Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest

Runner Up

Early Bird

Fleeting FinchSadey Jumapao 2014

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