Wednesday, March 29, 2017

The Deep by Ruby Mills

The Deep

All was silent
Everything except for the water
The day seemed nothing but violent
But it was in the hands of the great plotter

One step, two steps, three steps, four
Something is pulling on the legs
Her mother is watching in horror from just offshore
Please let go she begs

With a great force was she sucked under
Her breath was fleeting
Her life the creature did plunder
Left to the monster, her body took a beating

It is she that the creature will keep
For she now belongs to the deep.

Tuesday, March 28, 2017

Quote of the Week

3/28/17
Quote of the Week

"With freedom, books, flowers, and the moon, who could not be happy?"
- Oscar Wilde

Art by Marisa Enes


Light by Julia Johnson


What it’s like to Overthink by Julia Wood

What it’s like to Overthink

Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning
Life takes over,
Big waves and currents,
And I don’t know how to swim
I get caught up in the riptide.

My body gets thrown in every direction
My limbs quivering and snapping
Feeling like I’m about to break
But at that moment, just as I take
What I think is my last breath

My head goes above the surface
And I’ve never seen skies clearer
And my lungs are unclogged
And the waters only knee deep

So maybe
When you’re at your breaking point,
It just means

Better things are coming

A Short Story by Gianna Cabral

A long time ago in a land far away,
there was a magical girl who lived by the bay.
She had long scarlet hair that fell just below her shoulders,
and a voice so quiet that she remained unnoticed.
She had a slim, yet flattering, unique figure,
and she had a life that appeared to be a perfect picture.

But one thing about her was she kept a big secret,
couldn't open her mouth, afraid no one would keep it.
She casted spells to make life seem a bit better,
In hopes of making people act a little less bitter.
She didn't wear the stereotypical black hat,
and she certainly didn't own a scary green eyed cat.

She practiced magic late in the night,
where the darkness crept, she hid in plain sight.
Isolated from the world,
although quite strange, she felt at home.

They made her feel like she didn't belong,
but this made her feel like she could prove them wrong.

She could give someone their one dream house,
And make a boy and girl fall in love.
She could make you hypnotized, or just give you a simple surprise.
Anything you wanted, she could make it happen,
but be careful because she could easily send you to a different planet.

Just because she could perform magic,
didn't mean her life was not tragic.
Maybe she lived in a fantasy because she didn't want to believe,
that this reality was unfortunate, she had been deceived.
She got caught up in the mystery,
Hung up on who she really was and who she could be.




But one thing I'm sure of is that there is hope out there,
a life where she doesn't have to be hidden and handled with care.
There is a light in the big, open sky,
you just have to find it, obtain it, and just truly fly.
One day eventually she will find the light where she can be free,
just like how life is supposed to be.

Wednesday, February 1, 2017

Quote of the Week


2/1/17
Quote of the Week

"The minute I heard my first love story, I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was. Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They're in each other all along."
 -Rumi 

Annisquam Part II by Julia Johnson


Artwork by Marisa Enes


All That I Am by Julia Wood

All That I Am

Sometimes I feel shallow
 like an insufficient tide pool
But I know that I am not

I am made of star mass
 and band-aids
 and wide green eyes
 and dirt from the garden
 and apple juice boxes
 and scrapes and bruises
 and stubbed toes
 and sandy hair
 and words written
 and chapped lips
 and unfinished stories

I am all that I’ve experienced
 all that I’ve endured

I am so much more than what you see today
I am so much more than what I see today

The Day I Will Never Forget from Vietnam by Ryan Gabriele

The Day I Will Never Forget from Vietnam


A young man named James Muniz walked aimlessly along the Vietnam Memorial Wall (VMW). He stumbled along an old man staring at the wall while sitting in a chair. James walked by as he mumbled to himself, “What the hell is wrong with that guy?”
The old man heard James and said, “Nothing is wrong with this guy”.
Then, he motioned for James to come over. As James walked over the man said, “See all these names, these men were my brothers, these men helped me get home. “Can I tell you a story?”
James replied, “Well I guess I have some time.”
The old man looked at him and pointed at a name on the wall; it read Major Jeffrey St. Peter. The old man said, “This man saved my life. He was there when all else failed and I thought my life had come to an end. It all started in Vietnam . . .
There was constant gunfire even though we were at base camp. The helicopters were constantly bringing in the wounded. I had just arrived in Vietnam, after being drafted six months prior. As I went to check in, Major Jeffrey St. Peter came up to me and said, ‘Welcome to Florida, the pool is over there, and the bar is down the hall.’
As I looked left to right he said, ‘Are you serious private? You are in Vietnam. You are not in Florida. ’
I started to salute the Major, and as I did that, he tackled me and said, ‘You are nuts. Private, there are snipers everywhere looking for majors and generals to kill.’
As he helped me up he asked, ‘What’s your name?’
‘Private Pastagal, sir.’
He handed me a paper, so I opened it and read my assignment. It said that I was a part of his regiment. The major then looked at me and said, ‘Get some rest. We move out at 0800. We’re going to the front line.”
That night, I couldn’t sleep at all. The only thing that ran through my mind was the thought of my possible death the next day. 0800 came, and it was time to move out. I grabbed my rifle and my gear, and we started to move out through the jungle. As we walked along in our formation, we heard animals screeching. We came upon an opening.
Major St. Peter said ‘Men grab your shovels and get digging.’
We dug out fox holes, there were two of us to each one. I was with Private Mason. It was so quiet that we didn’t even hear the animals anymore. Mason looked up to scan the perimeter. BANG The roar of gunfire broke out, and when I looked next to me, Mason was dead. I couldn’t believe it. I started to shoot back towards where the shots were coming from. I started to hear whistles through the air; it was mortar shells. They had us cornered. Then I saw our men turn and run, screaming ‘Retreat!’
As I got up to run, a mortar pierces my foxhole. I got thrown about forty feet. When I regained control of my body, I got up and began to run. The enemy was closing in. I ran through a bush then BANG. I felt a sharp pain in my thigh.  I fell to the ground realizing I had been shot. I didn’t know what to do. I shot at a few men as they ran by. Then as one of the Vietnamese soldiers ran towards me, I attempted to shoot. I had no ammo left. He ran at me with his bayonet. I closed my eyes, there was nothing else I could do. I heard shots. It was Major St. Peter. He bent down and picked me up. As he ran he said, ‘No brother left behind.’ We were almost there, I could see base camp, then BANG. BANG. Major St. Peter was shot, he got up and kept running. We made it to base camp and the medics came to our aid. I was laying on the ground. I looked next to me, and Major St. Peter was dead.
I looked at his body and cried. He gave his life to save me. I couldn’t believe he did that. I was eternally thankful. When we got back here not many people were happy with us for fighting the war. I never forgot about Major St. Peter. When I heard they put this monument up, I had to visit it.”
James looked at Pastagal, and he said, “Thank you for everything you did, and I am very sorry for your loss, Major St. Peter is a war hero.”
James replied, “No problem, any time.”
Then James walked away, and the old man said one last goodbye to Major St. Peter. Old Private Pastagal would visit Major St. Peter’s memorial on the same day each year and pay his respects. James had initially gone to the monument that day to do research for a paper. After listening to Private Pastagal’s story, James was excited to share what he learned for the project. James’ teacher was very impressed with what he had written. He told him he should make the story into a book so that others could learn about Major St. Peter’s courage and deeds.



Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Quote of the Week

Quote of the Week

"He wanted her to sense the boundless possibilities offered by books. They would always be enough. They would never stop living their readers. They were a fixed point in an otherwise unpredictable world. In life. In love. After death."
- Nina George

Winded by Julia Wood

Winded

Inhale
 Exhale

Things seem temporary
 They are not

Your world isn’t caving in
 Even though your chest says otherwise

The attacks are the worst
 But you know how to deal with them

You are strong and you will succeed

 Best of luck to the strongest fighter.

Boots by Marisa Enes


Annisquam Part I by Julia Johnson



Artwork by Caroline Enos



Game Time by Haille Glaser

Game Time

The whistle blows and my heart pounds
Game faces on
The coaches yell on the sidelines
This is the time to give it your all

A fear of failure falls over me
But there is no room for failure
It’s now or never
The fate of the game is in your hands now

Losing is not an option
This is what we've worked so hard for
Hours of practice
And hours of thought

Patiently waiting on the sidelines
Waiting for my time
Waiting for my time when the game

Is the only thing on my mind