Hippocrene: 2020

ISSUE • 28

2020

Hip·po·crene ( Hip · po · crene | \hi-pə-krē-nē ) noun, literary 1. used to refer to poetic or literary inspiration 2. Greek Mythology — a fountain on Mount Helicon, sacred to the Muses: its waters inspire poets

Colophon

Academic Advisor: Samantha Jensen Creative Directors: Bob Dully, Evan Sayles Student Designer: Dennis Catrini ’20 Photography: artist submissions Printing: Marketing Solutions, West Hartford, CT Press Run: 200 copies / 7” x 10” / 58 pgs. plus cover Cover paper: 120# silk / 4/4 plus 1.5M matte Text pages: 100# Endurance gloss text, perfect binding

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Front cover by Matthew H. Jamison ’21 Back cover by Alexander Sanborn ’21 Produced under quarantine with Adobe InDesign, Illustrator, and Photoshop.

Three deadlines, all submitted online.

Fonts vary throughout.

H I P P O C R E N E 2019–2020

The Arts & Literary Magazine of Avon Old Farms School TABLE OF CONTENTS (red denotes seniors)

Writers & Poets

Artists & Photographers

Cole Bailey ’21 Sean Desjardins ’21 Charlie Fekete ’21 S.R. Field, F.A.S. Luke Foley ’21 Charles Gardephe ’21 Jack Glaspey ’21 Iakov Gurevich ’21 David Helsle​y ’20 Alexander Henrich ’21 Dylan Kasperzyk ’21 Yunha Paul Kim ’22 Gardner Krag ’​​20 Aiden Maag ’20 Jack Maas ’21 Jemar Mack, Jr. ’21 James Morr ’22 Marco Pang ’21 Will Rettaliata ’21 Wyatt Weekes ’21

(4–5) (19, 35) (17)

(28, 58) (21) (42)

(53) (17) (44) (26) (33, 41) (6, 54) (32) (56) (10–11, 25, 30, 46) (13, 49) (23) (38)

(42) (36)

Anonymous ’20 (9) Dennis Catrini ’20 (24, 32, 33, 54) Simon Chang ’20 (11) Quentin Cutler ’22 (15) Graham Deckers ’20 (4–5, 16, 20) Bob Dully, F.A.S. (27) Leo He ’23 (35) David Helsley ’20 (8) Tommy Higgins ’22 (31) Matthew H. Jamison ’21 (FC, 7, 37, 43) Eugene Kim ’20 (29, 45, 52) Lorenzo Landini ’21 (12, 17, 22, 40) Van Liott ’23 (57) Will Mella ’20 (18) Alexander Sanborn ’21 (34, 55, BC) Noah Schmeizer ’22 (47) Matthew Son ’20 (43) Michael XIE ’22 (48, 51) Chris Zhang ’20 (39)

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Self-Discovery

I’ve valued those around me and the actions they’ve committed,

For though I am not quite there yet,

Yet never inquired if I truly value myself.

I wish to be there someday.

To watch the sun rise in the east and set in the west,

I have not yet reached the shores of my purpose,

To feel at ease by this and nothing more,

For I have only traveled the waters of time and experience.

Although the beauty of the destination has never crossed my mind, And I’m not quite sure what it is I seek, I search for myself in the manifest of opportunity.

Is said to be living in the moment.

That is not my path.

I yearn for a higher purpose.

I wish to be there for more than the first hello, And the final goodbye of a friend.

I long to make a difference, To find value in myself, To find value in the world in which we flourish.

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– Graham Deckers ’20 “Guilty For My Actions”

The trails of time have not been blazed by those of certainty, But rather those who find themselves full of doubt but are willing to try.

I wish to be this individual.

I wish for a chance to show that I am worthy.

I have but only one life, So I will bask in the pouring rain.

So I will persevere through my moments of uncertainty.

So I will search for purpose in all presented to me, And explore all in which is hidden from me.

That is what it means to live, And that is the journey I embark alone.

For though I am not quite there yet,

– Cole Bailey ’21

I wish to be there someday.

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The Dr op Ver -1

It has been a couple of seconds since I fell. I am still wondering if I made the right choice when I jumped off. It terrified me at first, and now, I have no idea what to feel of it. On one hand, I feel regret. Are there other things that I could’ve done before this fall? I wish I could’ve talked to the girl that I liked in school a bit more. I made a decision. I really couldn’t express how much I wanted to hang out with her, but I never had the chance to do so. I want to hang out with my friends a lot more, and I definitely needed to apologize to my teacher about cursing during class. But, it is too late. What could have I done to change what has happened? If I was willing to seek more help from others, would that have helped me? Doctor Philip always told us to ask him for help if anything went wrong. But I just wasn’t willing to do so because I thought I would look weak.

Heck, I was always trying to hide the secret. I tried to hide it from my friends, and especially from my parents. If I had asked them for help, I wouldn’t be here now.

Oh God, I’m starting to see the ground now. I feel terrified because I can’t look away anymore. Now, the only thing that I can recall is the moment when I wrote my last letter to my parents. I remember pondering the consequences that will be brought to my parents if I made the ultimate decision, but all thoughts were gone as soon as I saw my report card next to the letter. I promised others that I will become someone great in this world. I told others my dreams of being an inventor one day. On that day when I received the report card, I remember all of my dreams being crushed. I saw my parents’ face, and I knew that was it for me. I see the end now, and the ground is near. I hope everything is forgotten and everyone around me forgives me for what I have

don e.

– Yunha Paul Kim ’22

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– Matthew H. Jamison ’21 “Hiding”

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“Broken”

– David Helsley ’20

8

I

was 11 years old and believed the world was close to perfect. Everywhere I went I had a

smile on my face and believed anything was possible. Looking back, my favorite childhood memories were spent with my older brother. Vivid memories come to mind of reading him stories, helping him play board games, and even attempting wiffle ball. You may wonder why I, the younger brother, was doing all of this for my older brother. My brother lived an extremely challenging life, suffering from severe special needs.

Sadly, he never took a step or spoke a word in his life. Something as simple as getting changed or taking a shower was impossible without the help of a nurse. Over the course of his life, he had broken bones from something as simple as stretching and was hospitalized for illnesses that an average kid his age could easily overcome. Close to everything my brother endured was a struggle.

Walking through public places or seeing people we didn’t know very well, I remember being treated

differently than my brother. Strangers would attempt to make some over the top loud greeting to my brother, which bothered me. Events like these have made me a lot more open minded to people with differences. I try to never judge anyone, because few people truly know what someone deals with on a daily basis. Unfortunately, people are often very quick to judge and provide their opinion without giving a person a chance, or taking time to understand him or her. Thankfully, he helped to teach me this lesson.

Because I was lucky enough to spend most of my brother’s life with him, I was able to form a close and unique bond with my brother. Many of my favorite memories came from seeing his eyes open wide and a smile form across his face after reading him a picture book. My brother’s smile had an extremely deep meaning to me, it was virtually his only way of communicating. I would do anything I could to see his room-warming smile one more time. On family holidays when everyone is sitting down, telling stories, and having fun, he was always with us smiling ear to ear. To many who never had the privilege of meeting him, I’m sure they would find it hard to believe that people can have a real and powerful relationship with someone with such disabilities. I can still remember how after some of my tough days in the classroom or losses on the athletic field, his smile always cheered me up. No matter what was going on in my life, there was nothing his smile couldn’t fix.

Over the past seven years since my brother died, I have started to realize the ways my relationship with him has changed my life. He has helped motivate me and put setbacks and bad days into perspective. I feel truly lucky and blessed for what I have been given. As a healthy teenager attending a great school, I try to push myself to do my best and not judge or mock others. I am grateful for the opportunities I have been given in my life. My brother inspired me to never take a day for granted because life can change in the blink of an eye.

– Anonymous ’20

s s e Ch

a in I sit still to write a poem.

My fingers stroke the keys softly.

“Mm, no!” I don’t like how that sounds.

Everytime I press the keys, I am shedding something from inside of me.

Laying it to rest on the page that I have come to love.

As I set the words on the page so cautiously,

I am questioning each and every one of them.

Thinking if they hold a niche on my page.

Do they even deserve a spot?

My brain runs back and forth fighting with itself.

My eyes bulge out, my hands start to sweat, my mind aches.

I start typing faster and faster. My fingers race around the keys,

like cars around their race track.

0 to 100 the words spill out of my finger tips.

I feel beat, exasperated, but ever so whole and present.

It seems that after this skirmish everything would be in shambles, but, then I look, I look at my creation.

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It is so beautiful and precious, and It is all mine.

I swaddle it and care for it.

It is a part of me,

a part of who I am.

o d a n r o T Then I hand it over.

I hand it to a stranger for them to dissect.

They tear it apart over and over again trying to figure out the meaning.

Their poem hurts and cries as the message is pulled out from inside of it.

But, this is what makes the poem who it is.

Like an orchestrated piece of music it comes together. It clicks.

Everyone that reads feels different, they take something of their own imagination and add it to the poem, changing it for the better, or for the worse,

but, this is what gives the young poem life, what makes it complete.

– Jack Maas ’22

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– Simon Chang ’20

“The Ark”

– John Smith ’18 – Lorenzo Landini ’21 “Reflections of Harmony” 12

The Ways In Which We Differ In the morninghe shaves his facial hair then he must Remove his earrings as the Rest — he trims his hair to Conform to a We not a Me Changes from the language that made him to the language that will Break him he listens to they who Separate him from what he knows and Force him to try to plant seeds on Dead soil – Jemar Mack Jr. ’21

– Quentin Cutler ’22 “Elijah”

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– Graham Deckers ’20 “Hair Faucet” 16

The Falling Glass Dinner table; As the world feasts I reach for my grim chalis Full of crystal clear water To quench my desperate thirst As I bring it to my hand It slowly drips And falls right off the table As the glass plunges Toward the start of a new era Water flies through the air Each drop - uncontrollable The Glass Rotating in a lawless spiral BOOM! Broken Into a million crystals.

– Charlie Fekete & Iakov Gurevich ’21 – Lorenzo Landini ’21 “Hand to Hold”

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– Will Mella ’20 “Sanborn Dyptich”

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Choices Can Affect Your Future I believe that darkness is the key to success because it is important to find the light on the other side. I will explore two paths to find my success, the easy and hard path. I will examine these paths carefully because this will decide my future. I refuse to listen to anyone taking me down the wrong path, but I have to respect people’s opinions on where they want to stand. I am aware of the challenges I will have to take and I will remember that this is going to take a lot of work. I know this will not be served to me on a silver platter. I shall not waste time thinking about my dream, instead I need to go out there and manifest it. I need to follow the right path to where I want to get to. I challenge myself to find what I need or who I need to be successful. I will not choose the wrong path to go on, I would rather live on the light side than the dark side. Then when I get there I can reflect on what I did to get here. I will celebrate all I want when I get there, but I have to remember that the most important thing is to never give up because then I will never get to where I want to be. – Sean Desjardins ’21

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– John Smith ’18 – Graham Deckers ’20 “Heavy Hand” 20

PURGATORY Trapped in a lifeless state Yet alive nonetheless Too bad to be called good Too good to be called bad Do I deserve freedom and happiness?

Should I be allowed to be with my loved ones?

Or shall I be sentenced to a life of eternal suffering A life of death, darkness, and demonism Perhaps neither, Yet here I am, waiting Contemplating my life decisions Debating if I am deserving of heaven or hell It is truly excruciating This pain I feel is deeper than any blade could cut, And stronger than any fracture of the bones The pain of being forced to wait To wait for what I will experience for the rest of eternity My thoughts are my only friends They ask me if I am truly alive or dead And if I will ever feel anything but “this” again I look, yet see nothing I scream, yet no one hears me If I am alive, I wish for death If I am dead, I wish for life

– Luke Foley ’21 21

– Lorenzo Landini ’21 “Doubt of Love”

– John Smith ’18

22

Raindrops fall from the sky, Landing on me as I walk by, Passing me at the blink of an eye, Raindrops fall from the sky.

RA a IN

As I walk to class, I pass other brothers, Guarded by rain jackets, From the aggressive touch of rain.

Raindrops fall from the sky. , s y a w h c r a h and throug s p e , t s n w o d y a w a I walk d n a d ps fall har , o r d in a r e h t As for a soul . p o t s t ’ n s e o D hole w a s a s u p m a c .

It covers our y k s e h t m o r lf Raindrops fal The rain da rkens the s , ky And I feel the drops , fly Harder and har , From abov , der e so high .

Raindrops fall from t he sky .

It soaks my blazer and my socks through my shoes, Puddles everywhere, It starts to become an issue.

I wish to say goodbye to the black sky, And the rain so cold.

But it continues to pour.

Raindrops fall from the sky.

– James Morr ’22 23

– Dennis Catrini ’20 “Separate Ways”

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Life Can Be Bitter, but the Fruit Can Be Sweet I remember sitting on the creaky porch as the wind blew back and forth.

The grand trees swayed, aching and groaning with every move.

The sun waves its goodbye to me as it leaves a trail of iridescent reds and oranges lighting up the premature night sky, preparing me for the dark.

I remember my loving mom calling me in for supper.

After a long day’s work nothing ever smelled better than her sweet cooking.

It reminded me of my everlasting fortune in this life.

I remember dropping to my knees to pray.

I would put my cracked hands together and talk to my lord, thanking him for all that he has afforded me, and asking for forgiveness.

I remember holding my dad’s hand as he faded into the light.

His hands became cold and his face turned white.

My tears fell to the bed where he was laying.

I had to say goodbye for the last time.

I remember getting my diploma from college.

I was the first in my family to ever go.

Me, the trend setter, the go getter.

I remember it all.

The best times of all, and the lowest of my life, I remember.

Sometimes, life can be more of a curse than a blessing, but it is me and that is what matters.

– Jack Maas ’22

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“You Asked For My Hustle, I Gave You My Heart”

Dear Kobe,

Your time was too short, We saw you as a kid win a championship in ’09 and ’10.

We saw the game winners And the buzzer beaters.

We saw the wins We saw the injuries We saw the interviews But what

and the losses. and the comebacks, and the clap backs didn’t we see?

The 4:00 am The 10 The hundreds of The Lower Merion Containing your original

wake-ups. extra reps. thousands of shots put up.

High School gym, blood, sweat, and tears.

Staying in the gym longer than the other guy, just so he would know he would never work as hard as you.

The behind scenes was what you were about.

The process, not the product When you played the game The ball Walked Lived

it was something different talked to you. with you, with you

You had the dream You created Now that type of path is Like every kid

and created it, your own path. something I want to create, that has dreams.

Your career wasn’t a one-hit-wonder, It wasn’t a BAM and you’re famous.

You worked for something bigger than yourself, I never met you, but you have still impacted my life.

Your loss has brought out a different perspective on life for me Life takes nine months to create yet a split second to end Live life like it was your last day on earth Be the first one working and the last one to finish up.

So. Dear Kobe, Thank you for inspiring me Now I know who I want to be Ain’t nobody stopping me neither Because what would you do?

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– Xan Henrich ’21

The boys – Bob Dully, F.A.S.

To Walk In Another’s...

Shoes left vacant at the front door by teenagers…

Showed her that summer was here…

Showed her that she had done some good parenting over the years…

Showed her that the lessons she had worked so hard to instill in her babies, had stuck Like spit watermelon seeds on her brother’s back during an Alabama summer day…

Showed her over the years how their little feet had grown Slowly at first, then it seemed like almost overnight by inches and then by several sizes Especially as school was starting again…

Showed her that she was sad to see it all go by so fast And happy that she had been able to experience All of it…

Showed her that every summer there were fewer shoes left outside that front door, on that front patio…

Showed her that her babies had done good because they were off exploring Life the way they should be and each summer a pair disappeared from that collection Where once there had been too many to count because it often meant her house was the day’s hang-out, now only her pair remained, but sometimes She would wear them inside tracking mud or dirt or cut grass down the front hallway Just to make her feel a little better…

Showed her that eighteen summers was all she would get if she did her job right, if she loved them, if she taught them Right & True, if she didn’t mince words but left them whole at the end, if she didn’t promise them the World But believed in them enough might they not need the World, if she was there before, during, and after the storm…

Shoes left vacant at the door again so small they could fit in the palm of her hand…

Showed her that Love begets Love.

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– S.R. Field, F.A.S.

– Eugine Kim ’20 “Pura Vida”

– Eugene Kim ’20 “Pura Vida” 29

The Pin

Love originates from the inside and

spreads outward like a wildfire.

Started by a single, dropped, match.

So wild it cannot be stopped.

Love is...

A cheetah leaping for its long-deserved prey.

Love is...

One seedling drowning under a foot of dirt with no light in sight.

Love will...

Nurture the soil so one day a strong tree can emerge.

This tree will be swept by yet another wildfire.

Started by just one person, with just one match.

The burn is as hot as an incinerator, but not harmful.

The flames clear the undergrowth

promoting the forest for the next growth.

The flames keep the furnace of life chugging down the track.

Like a roller coaster Love holds us in for an extraterrestrial ride but one malfunction away from

utter and total chaos.

Love is a continuation of common well being,

passed from one to another like bread at the holy table of everlasting life.

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– Jack Maas ’22

– Tommy Higgins ’22 “Chenhao Shen”

31

Sala meander

He lives alone in a small beaten up apartment. The popcorn ceiling is warping from

water stains from the room directly above. The toilet doesn’t flush; one needs to stick his or her hand inside the tank and pull up the flapper to flush. There is one small window adjacent to the coffee machine, sitting on the linoleum kitchen counter with stainless steel trim. His bed lies on the floor, an air mattress, with frayed, stained yellow sheets. Three space heaters litter the studio because the main heating system is broken. The carpet is stained with a plethora of different colors and dust rounds the corners. He flicks the light switch and a fixture hanging by its wires illuminates a soft, yellow, dull light. His desk is that of a president and his computer is spotless and brand new. Three ultra high resolution monitors fill the back of the desk and cover up the hole in the beige painted wall. His desk chair is the most luxurious and rarest leather in the entire world, without a nick or scratch.

– Gardner Krag ’20 – Dennis Catrini ’20 “Organized Chaos”

– John Smith ’18

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– Dennis Catrini ’20

“Unseen Struggles”

credo A life of guaranteed opportunities with a paved road leading the way free of peaks and valleys deems less challenging than that of a life without these luxuries. I believe in the unpaved road. Life without pain or tragedy doesn’t give the satisfaction of happiness and joy; I refuse to live a bland existence that holds no greater meaning than to simply go through the motions. A life of limitless options is wonderful when earned and should be celebrated and rejoiced, but to be given free handouts on a regular basis is shameful and is nothing more than the easy way out. Hard work comes with struggles and pains of the hills and valleys; but it is said that those who are climbing the hill are always hungrier than those at the top. Many are embarrassed to say they have struggled and the scars they try to hide eat away at them; struggle is a creature of beauty and only brings out the best of who you are and can be as a person. I have struggled in my life. I am proud to say I have struggled and have become a more empowered person because of this. When the time comes to choose you can find me on the road less chosen.

I will never take the easy way out. Over my life I’ve been challenged daily with the two most common challenges life has to offer us. The simplest choice of two paths. The first path is hard to say the least. It’s full of barriers meant to scare you away. Then there is the path clear cut with a nice view at the end of it. Most of the time the result is pretty similar and just from a quick look of things it’s very easy to agree with this statement. The difference is not as noticeable as you may think and I’ve come to learn this. For me I feel unaccomplished when I take the easy way out. I don’t feel good about myself. I’ve been known as a grinder or a pitbull. Someone who puts their head down and gets to work. I push myself to great lengths in everything I do because at the end of the day I feel rewarded with what I have earned, and not what was given. I’m not hating on those who take this other way of life, believe me I understand. Just for me I’ve been raised this way. For me this is an everyday thing. I have a high level of dyslexia. For me it is hard to compete at such a high level of academics such as this. I do what I have to do to thrive. I learn, adapt and overcome through hard work and dedication. I’ve learned no one is going to be able to help me with something like this and if I don’t grind it out I will forever be behind. To me the best way to describe the paths is with a dog. When you feed a dog food from your plate once, that’s all he’s going to want. The next time you have food, the dog will scratch at your leg and cry for the food looking for the handout.

– Dylan Kasperzyk ’21 33

– Alexander Sanborn ’21 “Green Car” 34

– Leo He ’23

“Race Car”

The Lemon Car That Saved My Life Bending the perfect guardrail.

No one knew what just happened, It was almost like a horror movie And we were the stars in it.

It started to sleet on the road, Almost like something was stopping us.

As soon as I took a minute to look up, A bright red car by the right, Slid like a skater in front of us.

Bang! Our car hit the other With no notice.

Our car was spinning…

Almost like an amusement ride, But this was not fun.

All of a sudden… Crash!

We were like sitting ducks, Cars zooming from both sides.

Minutes later I look to the left, An image that will never leave my head.

A perfectly-pitch black car coming at my door, Boom! The car hit straight on, It was like we were just stuck in the middle of a fight Being thrown around.

I thought someone was yelling into my ear, My ears were ringing.

The crash was slow… almost too slow, Everything went silent.

Nothing was left…

Except for us.

– Sean Desjardins ’21

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A strange dream

H

V

o

My eyes open, and I see a sky of unending twilight.

The stars glow, yet they are dark.

R

I can feel the soil shift beneath my feet as I stand.

Each time I step, it ripples. The ground is firm, yet it yields like water.

Every second, this realm becomes more unnerving.

The trees jut out like jagged hands, and form a twisted forest.

Each contorted limb forms a strangled knot all around me.

Through the forest lies a town, yet the houses are in all directions.

Its robed inhabitants speak, yet have no faces.

I can touch them, yet they are made of mist.

L

Outside of the town lies a canyon.

The air is silent, yet I can hear something.

No, this is no song.

I hear the harmony of the silence.

The voices each whisper their own message. Each message is spoken in its own language. Yet I hear a syllable uttered, Past the canyon lies a vast palace of black stone, but no king lies within its halls. No knights stand guard in its grounds. Yet I feel something within.

What did you see? The voices ask.

“Everything,” I answer.

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F

– Wyatt Weekes ’21

G

– Matthew H. Jamison ’21

A

“Ripped Apart”

K 37

Starfall A little pretty charming girl, Singly on that fallen logs.

She holds a staff made of those twigs, And walk on such a barren trail.

Beneath the sleeping hazy moon, A shooting star crossed her eyes.

It hums a sweet and dreamy poem, And left a lovely sound of lies.

Sparkling drops with freezing wind, Her magic wand shoots boundless rays.

She asked the star why she’s so sad, The star replied a silent voice.

Another night with no man’s sky, A drowning star as gloom as stone.

She rises the soulful dismal tone, Then reads the verse and says good-bye.

– Marco Pang ’21 38

– Chris Zhang ’20

“Golden Ratio”

39

“Judgement of Creation”

– Lorenzo Landini ’21

40

A Dream of Mine

It has always been a dream of mine to serve my country.

In elementary school, everyone made dream boards containing the same ideas of aspiring to wealth and luxury. In the middle of these boards was the phrase “When I am older, I want to be…”.

My board was different. Cutouts of soldiers and the American flag surrounded the words, “When I am older, I will be a United States Navy Seal.” As the weeks passed, my peers “dreams” moved on to the next big thing, but for me, my dream stuck. Weeks turned into months, which turned into years, but my aspirations held true.

My entire life I have worked hard and pushed myself ahead of the competition to achieve my goals. For me, my end goal is not a cushy job with a lot of money. The ideal that the stars and stripes bleed proudly encompasses who I am and who I want to be; something bigger than myself.

The road to pursuing your dreams is never supposed to be easy. For me especially, this was certainly true. In elementary school, I was diagnosed with dyslexia. Things that my classmates did easily, such as reading and writing, I struggled with. I was separated from my peers because my teachers believed my academic potential was limited. Because of this, school was a dreadful experience for me. I was scared to speak out in class and often avoided participating. When I was given the option to receive extra time on assignments and exams, I refused because I did not want special treatment. I chose to work harder than others to merely meet academic expectations without really reaching my full potential.

Overall, to whomever may be reading this, I may not be the most outstanding student in the classroom or on the mat, but I can promise you I will work overtime to get there. I will continue to work overtime with my teachers after school hours to help improve my academic performance and prepare myself for success. I will also work overtime in the gym before and after school to perform better and outwork my competition. In this, I promise I will rise to any occasion put before me. Given the opportunity to attend the Naval Academy Summer Seminar, I assure you I will demonstrate this same mentality to aspire and persevere in all challenges put before me. I will show you what was once just a dream, has flourished into my livelihood.

– Dylan Kasperzyk ’21 41

The Sound of Nature The key Stripped of color and

s

Stolen from the wild plains of Dodoma, Swoosh e downward.

Its motion triggers that of A ponderous hammer.

Swingin ’ with profound velocity

And unmatched zeal, enkindling a spark.

s It trike the tender string. s

And then from where silence dwelled ... evokes an explosion of audible color.

Its thick pitch fills the stage with smoke of every shade — Is followed by chilling round thunder as the two twine together in melody.

Like vines in an active canopy hanging over its shadowed, dense jungle floor.

Peering softly down as its very foundation burns in livid flame, Its sweet sound rings out a final moment, then returns To nothing at all.

– Charles Gardephe & William Rettaliata ’21

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– Matthew Son ’20 “Vine of Life”

– Matthew H. Jamison ’21 “View to the Soul” 43

M irag e Branches extend toward the sky Reaching For what is not theirs to take As their blossoms tumble aimlessly to the floor,

Each gentle breeze performs A song Layered with leaves An arrangement created by grace.

To step into this space Disrupts The harmony delicately balanced His song.

– David Helsley ’20

– Eugene Kim ’20

“Silent Protest”

45

Memories?

My heart is pounding.

My car is totaled. I don’t know what happened.

I step out of the vehicle, the cold air bites at my exposed skin.

There is no one in sight.

Where am I? The wind is howling as it viciously scours over the winter wasteland, all I can hear is the ringing in my ears and the pulsing heartbeat in my head.

I don’t know my name.

Who am I? White, white with bright red blood everywhere, but I feel no pain.

My mind is empty, blank.

Where am I? The snow falls to the ground like the memories that have abandoned me.

Freezing, I need warmth but there is no warmth, not in my bones, not in my soul.

I stumble around with death on my mind.

Who am I? Blood covers my body, but is it mine?

I walk to the trunk looking for warmth but the bodies are cold...

– Jack Maas ’22

46

– Noah Schmeizer ’22

“Croc With City”

47

– Michael XIE ’22 “Revolutionary” 48

Judgement People think they know My color Like judging a book by its cover Does my dark skin equal a dark soul?

Is a criminal my role?

They expect me no one other Ready for me to attack As if I’m a maniac Do I feel the need for payback?

Is there speed bumps on a racetrack?

If my color Could have a cover I know this for a fact No matter the number of pages stacked My first page says Black!

– Jemar Mack, Jr. ’21

– Michael XIE ’22 “Tristesse”

51

– Eugene Kim ’20

“Never Too Late”

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False Hope Everything human is reduced to zero Bonds of friendship remain in place only by habit Intolerance is generally the victor We have not died, but we are dead.

They’ve managed to kill in us our right to live in the present and future We have the impression that we’re separated from the normal world Any moral effort to distance ourselves from the dark end up grotesque We have not died, but we are dead.

In spite of everything, my work with the children continues To invoke our distant homeland, glorious and heroic Because they take my lead, they get excited, they want to live, to rejoice We have not died, but we are dead.

– Jack Glaspey ’21

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p The Dro Ver -2 I think the drop will terrify me.

I think I will regret doing it. I’m still thinking, were there other things that I could’ve done before the drop?

I wish I could’ve talked to the girl that I liked in school a bit more. I made a decision. I really couldn’t express how much I wanted to hang out with her, but I never had the chance to do so.

I want to hang out with my friends a lot more, and I definitely needed to apologize to my teacher about cursing during class. But, it is too late. What could have I done to change what has happened? If I was willing to seek more help from others, would that have helped me? Doctor Philip always told us to ask him for help if anything went wrong. But I just wasn’t willing to do so because I thought I would look weak. Hack, I was always trying to hide the secret. I tried to hide it from my friends, and especially from you. If I had asked them for help, I wouldn’t be in this situation now. As I’m writing this, I can only think of one thing, the report card. Remember when I told you that I can become anything?

I wanted to explore this world.

I promised you that I would become someone great one day, but all dreams were crushed when I received that report card. All I can write now is, I’m sorry for letting you down.

Sorry Mom, Jack

– Dennis Catrini ’20 “Beauty in the Eye of the Beholder”

– Yunha Paul Kim ’22

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– Alexander Sanborn ’21 “Unfinished”

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ShorTcom_ings.

“Maybe this isn’t the sport for me.” Standing on first base, I had time to think. The next teammate at bat kept fouling the ball, so he was in the box for a while.

I’ve always been short, and I’ve accepted that I’m always going to be short. This is something that I can’t really change. My dad used to make me eat more to try to make me grow, but that didn’t really work, obviously; I’m only 5’3”. I am often told by many people, “Aiden, you’re short.” “Wow thanks, I didn’t know.”

Back in middle school I played baseball, and in my three seasons I got one base hit. Yes, one. And it was only because I was fast, not because I hit it far. Due to my short stature, the strike zone of the average child was almost perfectly eyelevel for me, making for a lot of matrix-like maneuvers almost every pitch. I wanted to be a heavy hitter, but this was a mountain I could not climb.

I came to realize that around the fifth time I took a walk because I was hit. Standing there at the plate, thinking this pitch was going to be the one I smacked over the fence, I slightly bent my knees and raised my bat. The next thing I heard was not the crack of the bat, but a thud right next to my ear. Instead of the tingling in my fingers from a hit, I felt my helmet slide over my eyes from the contact. I lifted my helmet back up off my eyes, and looked up at the umpire. “Take a base,” he shouted. I tossed the bat back with my head slouched, and sluggishly walked to first.

This had happened before, and it became such a regular occurrence that I lost all faith of being a batter where the outfielders yell “outfield back!” every time I step up to the plate.

There are certain things I could not change about myself, and I had to accept that I would never run around all four bases in one up at bat. Despite these shortcomings, I found my weaknesses strengths. Because I was such a shifty and short target, I was often able to avoid basemen trying to tag me out while stealing bases. That was my game-plan for all 3 seasons: get walked, and run.

During the time while I played, I discovered what I was good at, and the contributions I could make to the team. One person can’t be good at everything, and the team needs all types of strengths to be successful. From these seasons, I learned that even if one teammate doesn’t have the position on a team that they want, they still have to give it their all, and try their hardest. I believe that I can apply this to college and as to life as a way to persevere through times that might not go according to plan, and when I have no way of changing the outcome. I learned that walking tall is about adapting to circumstances.

– Aiden Maag ’20

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– Van Liott ’23 “Possibilities” 57

Segueing To the undiscovered poets working in fields & factories, or unfulfilling jobs & roles alike, manumitted by ideas of the next stanza quatrain or sonnet, bloodletting their foreheads until penciled... to the proletariat poets amateur & unpublished unrelenting, honing dual crafts through acute perceptions and debilitating social graces ...even those cynical devils lacking reach, crippled by such absorption, for those burdensome shoulder chips ...to the un-awakened, unrealized poets home with children ...to the illiterate poets I’ve yet to teach -this kiss

is for You.

– S.R. Field, F.A.S.

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H I P P O C R E N E Each year as we compile innumerable pages of artwork, paintings, poetry, and prose we are nothing less than astonished at the artistic and creative ability of our classmates. Thank you to all who were involved in any step of the process. Any involvement from submitting to reading the Hippocrene is validation for those involved that their dedication is recognized. Lastly, those fortunate enough to find their work in the previous pages should feel proud to have been selected, as this has been one of the most competitive editions. With that said, congratulations.

ed and proofread the process was out of our hands to be sent to the design team. Despite such a brief synopsis of the process, everyone involved has spent countless hours along each step of the process to ensure perfection.

Graham, Jack, Hobie, Dennis, and I would like to thank Mrs. Jensen, Mr. Sayles, Mr. Dully, and the Avon Old Farms dministration for allowing us this opportunity. Each of us is filled with an enormous sense of pride and accomplishment being able to hold the physical embodiment of our love and labor.

The publishing process is a unique experiWith this year’s edition of the magazine co- ence each of us has been fortunate enough to inciding with the calendar year 2020, the ed- participate in at our age, and I look forward iting staff inevitably settled on the theme of to seeing what future editions of the Hippo“vision.” There is no better theme to welcome crene have in store. our new headmaster, Jim Detora P’12, to the community of Avon. We hope this edition of Aspirando et Perseverando, the Hippocrene will prove to be a lens into the future of our headmaster’s career. Vision can also be attributed to the tense of time yet to come. With the current uncertainty faced Editor-in-Chief resulting from numerous facets of life, this David Helsley ’20 collection aims to present the exceptional works of future authors, artists, poets, and EDITORS photographers to the community.

Graham Deckers ’20 Dennis Catrini ’20 Organizing our submissions this winter, M. Hobie Jamison ’21 we sought out the most impressive literary Lorenzo Landini ’21 and art pieces which express these themes Jack Glaspey ’21 and all else we hope to convey to the Avon Old Farms community. After the collection process, we began the first laborious step of many by selecting those submissions we found best aligned with our theme. From there, we paired visual works with prose and poetry before assembling each match into a mock version of the book. Once each piece had been carefully edit59

BA CK CO VE R 60 www.avonoldfarms.com/hippocrene