GAZEBO
2023-2024
Aiden Opiela '24
GAZEBO STAFF
STUDENT OFFICERS
Editorial DirectorAndrew Luckey '25 Editor
Brendan DeStefano ‘26 Editor
FACULTY MODERATOR
Mr. John Mills '12
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Page 1 Geron Bines
Page 2 Brent Thompson
Page 3 Christian Vega
Page 3 Alex Rossi
Page 4 Christopher Fioravanti
Page 5 Gabriel Cowart
Page 6 John Solana
Page 6 Ryan Will
Page 7 Joseph Malizia
Page 8 Charles Nascimiento
Page 9 Philip Buckleman
Page 9 Sean Oh
Page 10 Shane McLaughlin
Page 11 Geron Bines
Page 12 Gabriel Cowart
Page 12 Christian Vega
Page 13 Peter Nocentino
Page 14 William Hartzel
Page 15 Will Ryan
Page 15 Alex Kempisty
Page 16 Louis Burdick
Page 17 Patrick Maloney
A Dollar Rise Again Eve In Demand Back to Myself Amalgam Summit Cascade Continuation Aegean Betrayal Carousel The Artists Ingenuity August Echo Tired You Should Know Verdant Crash Goodbye Daylight
Clock strikes six.
It’s Monday.
What do we desire?
Do we appreciate the value of a dollar as we open the door of opportunity?
“There’s dishes in the sink!”
“Why is this sitting here?”
Gray hairs appear here & here. Almost like a faint dream, trying to escape our mistakes.
Clock strikes six.
It’s Monday.
A Dollar
Rise Again
Crashing through the bush, the broken leaves, and wet tracks
The old dog slips.
He rises again with a limp presses on.
The sight of home drags the fox down. His soul stops on that old familiar log, comes ever closer— to losing all he has.
Log cabin deep in cold woods
Not a creak of a board
When the clock hits 12
Boxes left behind Massacred in the morning
The rough road of rocks
A path unpaved that nobody walks and nobody tries to save
Need to be bold to go across the threshold and explore alien land, Curiosity is in demand.
Eve
In Demand
Back to Myself
Within the whispering corners of my mind, there lies a heavy burden, evolving, dragging me down towards profound depths where the faint gleam of light struggles to touch.
Days of dreary skies and idle instants blend into one another with no distinction.
Every breath feels like a assault from the constricting grip of anxiety. As I witness the world progressing, I remain a quiet bystander in an ocean of indifference.
Simple chores morph into great challenges and even the tiniest glimmer of optimism seems like a far-off dream.
I long for a hint of brightness in the shadows that could lead me back to myself.
An amalgamation Lines making shapes
Without purpose.
Feeling right
Symbols of a time past.
The people are gone
Forever locked
Hand to hand
Hand in hand
Amalgam
Summit
Rising up the natural wall
Walking the wayward trail
So broad and tall
The cliff I have to scale
One misstep a costly fail from the towering peak
The challenge that I seek
Here at the summit it looks so bleak
Now I plummet
Untouched trickle of blue
Encased in black and grey and earthen hue
A walking, running, spray of green-white gone astray
Stopped still, ensnared the visions dared
Swallowed up and drowned bared without a sound.
Cascade
Continuation
Stressful Monday chokes like dark smoke
Forgetful Tuesday left incomplete Wednesday, busy as ever, packed and deafening
Winged Thursday heralds through the clouds
Hopeful Friday lifts the crushing weight
Weightless Saturday leaps and soars
Vile Sunday remembers and reminds
Aegean
Mark of the sea
A symbol of peace swaddles and pacifies the newborn cries.
Purchased from a carnival stall,
The sky and canvas above and before.
The color of her eyes
The same as my mother’s accenting the far wall of my bedroom.
Betrayal
Betrayal.
A horribly violent, Merciless escape.
Protecting, guarding something.
The price for reaching for it Is fingers or hands, And there is no hesitation.
But there still remains some Remorse and regret.
A child cries home from school. A Band-Aid, a kiss... The sun sets. A student yawns over his papers. He stands, he stretches... The sun sets.
A man sighs through a revolving door. Car starts, radio plays... The sun sets.
CarouselThe Artists
In a dim gallery we hide away, fumbling for connection. We fill the space
With silent yearning, hands outstretched.
Our souls in bags, in cases, in thin veils that hide our faces.
This is a language none speak; a story none tell.
But we approve the rhythm, we applaud the art, and then we part.
Ingenuity
In the realm of creation, we find our art. Brush strokes on canvas, words upon a page.
Imagination flowing, shaping every part, Creativity dances, setting hearts ablaze.
From dreams to reality, ideas take flight, Boundaries broken, pushing boundaries tight.
With a spark of inspiration, we bring it to life, Creativity’s embrace forever a guiding light.
Going away, leaving
Out of anger? Out of love?
An attack
On the person? On the self? the lives of the august so often in this way driven to austerity.
Wandering aimlessly in wooded darkness, while everlasting whispers echo off walls of green and brown.
Out of breath, the howl of wolves grows closer.
August
Echo
Tired
Tired like a purring cat in a warm cozy bed on a cold winter day.
Tired
Tired like a tourist who just got off a plane in a faraway country and is experiencing jet lag.
Tired
Tired like a kid who has come inside from playing in the snow all day. Tired
Tired
YOU SHOULD KNOW
Warm always there; it never left.
The part of you you need.
Protect it,
With armies of fire
So it shall never cease.
If it goes cold, You will freeze. Please stay.
Verdant
Sour
Granny Smith apple
Scent of a Christmas tree a lawn mower grazing in the back yard
The sting from the dive on the turf
What once scared has now become routine. That horrid sea of blue with its frowning face fills the screen again. Crashing upon electric shores, disrupting progress, demanding attention. The brief resets all result in the same cycle time after time..
Crash
Goodbye
Dark maroon blankets burn magazines shapes char Vases hang from the ceiling
Chess pieces slip
The art is gone all gone
A change of scenery Missing structures
Grandfather clocks tick
The light was pouring into the room, filling the room with joy. But not in the corners, dark and gray.
This made me mad.
How had the light come so far to stop there, where it is most needed?
Daylight
Glide
Above all, glide, forget.
Glowing planets, Mysterious stars.
Heavenly bodies gliding through time.
Forever set, exploring
Above is everything,
Glowing through my eyes.
Down below... All I need is myself.
The red yellow boxes circle from the screen populate my mind with sensation Eyes burn colors multiplying on the screen
Screen
