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February 2013

Dillon Cronin: The Missing Peice

It seems like everybody's got 'em Even just one Everybody but me The excitement of seeing them every weekend Jumping into their arms But all that is missing All four of my grandparents All four of my role models All four of my loving, caring, warm hearted grandparents passed on The missing puzzle piece to create the picture The picture of my childhood Incomplete Look over there as the toddlers face lights up with joy Jumping into his grandparents arms As I look away I can't bear the sight of that I can't bear to see everybody else's joy when all I have is emptiness I can't bear it it's just too much Too much to know that while they were here I was not that little boy I was not the little boy whose face lit up by the sight of his grandparents It was just another day in the life And that kills me It kills me to know I didn't love them to death It kills me to know I didn't cherish each and every moment with them It kills me to know that the opportunity to relive that is gone You see family gives us unconditional love And that love is irreplaceable That moment Those memories I can only wish That I could relive those moments Relive my past Just to see their faces again Read more →

Nate Winneg: When an Unstoppable Force Meets an Immovable Object

When an unstoppable force meets an immovable object, that which is in the middle becomes stuck. It is only by getting out of the way before the collision, that we have any hope of avoiding it. One must be be able to anticipate, but not be caught up by anticipation. He must be able to think ahead, but not become obsessed with the future. In order to get out of the way, one must first see it coming. Keep your mind on the present, but always keep one eye on the horizon. When between these objects, one can’t help but wonder why. You must be able to keep from these situations, by looking to the future. If you find yourself in a situation like this however, you must be able to remember. That the longer you wait to get out of the way, the closer and faster these paradoxical objects become. Read more →

My Memory: Mike Demsher

Every yesterday leans against each other. The days flow together into a pool of memories, That mix together until they are a mess of images and feelings, And I am losing them constantly. But some stay together, different from the rest. I sit here in my finished wood seat. The dark legs curve down with smooth grace. I think back to my years prior, And I see myself sitting in a very different chair. I feel the rough cloth covering the firm cushion, Of the worn-down, canvas colored chair in my living room. I smell my dad's spicy jambalaya, And I hear it bubble on the gas stovetop, Burning with a bright blue flame. I look deeply into the television, As I spend my time injuring eternity. My father yells, "Come and eat." I sprint, for my stomach is roaring like a hound. I scoop out a bowl of the chunky rice and meat, And I walk quickly back to my seat. The aroma of the spicy heaven sprints through my nose, And sends a felling through my body warmer than the bowl. I remember that night, and so many nights like it. I can picture the jambalaya a blue ceramic bowl. Every yesterday leans against each other, But there are some memories that stand on their own. Read more →

Chosing a WW Fenn, is always very difficult. Kids never know what they want and the need that "perfect piece". At my time at Fenn I have always chosen a speech, but this time, I chose to shake things up a little bit, I chose a poem( I hope you guys knew that already). Since I am not the most poetic kid, I wasn't really sure on how this was going to turn out. Now, once kids have chosen their WW Fenn, they always have to get over the nervousness. There are some kids who shine during WW Fenn and they do really well. There are also others who get really nervous and start mixing up things that they are saying on stage. For me, I don't really get nervous talking in front of people, but I am not the best at memorizing. To prep for WW Fenn I usually read my piece 3 or 4 times a night, personally though, I felt that it was easier trying to memorize a poem because of the anaphora and the rhyming words. Now, once you have memorized it, you have to practice. You have to practice the way you speak it, when you should be louder in different places, and most importantly to speak slowly and clearly. So, once I leave Fenn I will always remember those times where I stood up in front of my class reciting a speech and a poem, because personally I believe that these some of the... Read more →

Zack Lisman: The Pacific Edge

Over the summer, my family and I had the privledge to go on a kayaking trip in Mexico at the tip of the Baja Peninsula. It was not a huge trip, only a day trip from about 11:30 to 4:00, but that trip was one of the best moments of my life. It started off with about a 30 minute kayak from our hotel, which was on the shore of a small bay, to an beach near the tip of the peninsula. There we walked on the scorching sand through a small passage way to the Pacific Ocean. here the waves pounded on the sand with such force and soared well over our heads. It was perfect for pictures and we spent time here taking pictures and enjoying the moment. But after that the plans changed. My dad and brother capsized their kayak when they were trying to get in in against the strong current. This scared my brother and unfortunately they were unable to go with my mom and I on the rest of our journey. From the beginning of our time in Mexico, I wanted to kayak to the arch that was supposed to be the gateway to the Pacific. As we got closer and closer, I grew more and more excited. After a 5 minute kayak ride, we got to the arch. It was an amazing sight. There were seals perched on a rock next to the arch and we could see the crashing pacific waves meet... Read more →

Marcus Mazzotti: Memories From The Hatch

Its hot, I'm tired, but its no different from yesterday. Or the day before. Tomorrow's not going to be any different. I just walk around all day kicking up sand. Maybe we'd come to a puddle or small lake, but its barely enough to make to the next stop. I'm not expecting anything different. The only reason I'm not dead is because of Michael. I'm not sure why Michael still has hope. Why does he give me water when he needs more of it? There is little hope in his eyes every time we summit a dune or climb a rock. I may be colorblind, but you don’t have to be blind to see his eyes are blue, with the way the sun reflects still amazes me. Every now and then we'd come across a town, deserted, but still there. We rummage through the remainders. Sometimes we find some good stuff like food or canned drinks. I think the most useful thing we ever found was a canteen. Michael was on his knees when we came across this, and I sure as hell was happy. Suddenly there was rubble underneath my feet, we came across a small camp. Ashes were scattered about. Wrecked tents with mats to sleep on beneath them. I found a few pots and pans just laying around, but Michael found something that changed him forever. I came out of a tent dragging the mat in my mouth. I saw Michael just standing there in awe. I... Read more →

Jake Goorno: Greatness

To be great you must learn to be simple, To be great you must strive to be the best To be great you must never be afraid, And to be great you must always be heard. Greatness is a voice that can change the world. Greatness can never be purchased at all, Nor does greatness just appear out of air. Greatness must be earned, it must be deserved. Many have chosen the path of greatness, But few have ever even reached its end. Be not afraid of greatness; welcome it. For some are born great, some achieve greatness, And others have greatness thrust upon them. However greatness is inherited, It is important to let greatness show. Greatness is not measured in potential. Greatness is not measured in innate skill. Greatness is not measured in brains or looks. Greatness is a mountain that has no peak. It’s a battle that can never be won. It is not tangible, but it is there. Whatever the greatness that you possess, Let your voice and your dreams be felt by all. Read more →

Dillon Cronin: Regret

He strokes the smooth stone with his thumb Glancing over the river sitting on a stump He lost everything Everything His house family His Life A tear slides down his cheek; he jumps up from his seat Pacing back and forth Anger Disgust Hatred He threw the stone straight into the river Why? Why me? How could I do this? “I got nothing to lose,” he said Nowhere to go Nothing to do Nothing to lose” As he took that blade and sliced his wrist Sliced himself straight to hell Read more →

Gloves are simple. We use them in everyday tasks, such as shoveling snow in the winter, or raking leaves in the fall, or planting flowers in the spring. We use these gloves as a tool. They keep our hands from becoming dirty, or keep them warm, or from being cut by sticks, and we think nothing of it. It is only without the gloves, that we recognize their helpfulness. It is after the cut is torn, or the fingers are raw from cold, that we realize how much of a luxury gloves are. Gloves are not the only thing like this however. A home is the same. Without it we are cold in the winter, and have nowhere to go, each night to sleep. Though when we look at gloves, all we see are simple pieces of leather and cloth, sown together, we must look beyond the obvious. In all things, big and small. We must look beyond the obvious, so see what there is to be seen, and realize what there is to be realized. Like the hands that are protected by the gloves, our lives do need protecting. We must look at the simple things differently now, for it is only when we are without them, that we realize their true value. Read more →

Mike Demsher: Where Do I Come From?

Where we love is home - home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts. ~Oliver Wendell Holmes I come from house hidden from the world by trees that brush the sky, With a hole-ridden Styrofoam target in the front yard. I can picture the long summer days, With a bow in my hand, and metallic arrows laying in the cool, dew touched grass, I notch an arrow and begin a steady pullback, I look through the futuristic scope, With red and green and yellow dots, That block my view of hole-ridden white. My new high-tech bow feels foreign in my hand, But I can feel the power ready to be released from my hand, And the arrow becomes a pack of wild hounds, Ready to bite whatever lies in the way, I see the artificial white of the target, And I steady my aim as I prepare to let go, I lock in and for a moment, All is still. There is no sound but the warm wind of a summer day, Brushing against the trees high in the sky, And my mind runs blank, As I see the arrow hitting the target, And I hope to see my vision become reality. Then I hear a rush as the metallic arrow slices through the air, And a satisfying thump as the hounds find their mark. I see my arrow hit the corner of the target, And my foreign bow has failed me. I grab my old re-curve bow,... Read more →