Litmag December 2012
Acknowledgements Bergen County Technical Schools Board of Education William Connelly, President Jason Kim, Vice President Marie E. La Testa, Board Member, William J. Meisner Ed.D., Board Member Robert M. Gilmartin, Superintendent
Bergen County Technical Schools Administration Dr. Howard Lerner, Superintendent Andrea Sheridan, Assistant Superintendent Richard Panicucci, Assistant Superintendent John Susino, Board Secretary Thomas Klemm, Director of Human Resources
Bergen County Executive Kathleen A. Donovan
Campus Administration
Russell Davis, Principal Raymond Bath, Vice Principal David Niedosik, Dean of Academics
Board of Chosen Freeholders John D. Mitcell John A. Felice Maura DeNicola John Driscoll, Jr. David L. Ganz Robert G. Hermansen Joan M. Voss
Table of Contents untitled... Talia Green Sunset... Ji-Sung Kim Winter’s Wood... Anne Li The Words That Used to Come Easy to Me... Max Lauring untitled... Gaby Marraro Imagine-Flowers... Monica Muznik untitled... Mika Thomas Sensory... Monica Muznik I Felt the Rain Thump... Alejandra Torres The Corridor of Broken Hearts... David Maginley Anchored Defeat... Talia Green October Bleak... Anne Li My Favorite Time of Year... Melissa Gandhi
Cover Art... Camellia Carbonaro Photography.... Melissa Gandhi Illustrations.... Helen Sakharova
Untitled Talia Green
Just for a moment, I’m once again found My feet momentarily touching the ground Been more than forever since shoved from cloud nine A lie that you beautifully shoved passed the line If just for a moment, before you reply, Regret to confess my heart’s still in the sky There it remains, on the stand side our bed Along with the promise of bliss in my head I guess I was blind from the fog of our love Or faint from no oxygen miles above I guess the light shining around us was fake Bound by the halo you took time to make Guess I’m momentarily trapped by your spell Forging a heaven that’s clearly a hell In settings somehow just a breath from sun’s shine Fooling my eyes on exquisite cloud nine
Through years since I’ve fallen, I’ve morphed to a soul That’s practically soulless, a vapid black hole Is now momentarily filled in my chest But solitude’s pain is, in truth, for the best ‘Cause, moments ago, when I saw my reflection I realized that I now decide my direction I don’t need your lies to protect my frail youth From this moment on, I’m defined by the truth Your ice walls are crumbling, melting at last But now I have vanished, the moment has passed And you’ll walk this earth with a tear in your eye And each moment wonder and glance at the sky
Sunset Ji-Sung Kim
Walking next to the setting sun, the sun called out to me “Come, weary traveler, Come, old child” “Embrace me,” it cried “Bask in my warmth and quench your sleep your hopes; your dreams” “Rest those tired bones Leave your worries Forget your sadness; your long lost love” So laying my hopes beside me, I sat in the sunset glow, resting these bones next to the setting sun.
Winter’s Wood Anne Li
Trees that beckon as they recede, Framing an entrance to the woods’ lair. They ask me to join that beautiful realm, Oblivious to the dimming air. They hummed with life that was to come, As I drank in scents of earth and leaves. Taking in branches and bare gray trunks, Yearning to stay and be one with these trees. I turned to go, but, oh! beauty still! For I bent and beheld upon the ground One of you sisters fallen in death With her grace untouched and sound. She’d given life to shades of gold, And tan, and brown so dark. These shell-scooped shelves, whose tops were cream, Grew dearly from her bark. I reluctantly saw the sky less bright, For I’d have stayed if I’d but could. And watched the last of sunset’s light Fade form winters’ wood.
The Words That Used to Come Easy To Me Max Lauring
The words used to come so easily to me They blossomed patiently, waiting to be picked But now they deceive me and always have me tricked We laughed and danced together and cooperated naturally But now I can’t take it any more as we always disagree The words used to come so easily to me Lost like a blind-folded blind man The tragedy that suddenly began Memories of brilliance and harmony Now memories of afflicted debris The words used to come so easily to me You have become a plague of derision No longer waiting to be summoned The spark of inspiration and ardency Has now rotted away and turned ugly. The words used to come so easily to me They are choppy and serrated
Apathetic like a balloon deflated Once a reservoir replete with ingenuity Drowned and suffocated, polluted undersea The words used to come so easily to me One time I even poured them into the palm of my hand And watched as they graciously glided through my very fingers grand Beleaguered by effluent language that once agreed But that was when the words used to come easy to me
Gaby Marraro no date, no name attached walking hand in hand with a blank name tag a shirt where the letters have been erased and the shoes with the impression of a finger nail where the logo was etched off transparent pavement looking down at the safety pin that took myself down with it 2: thirty 2 so i let it go unjustified but i didn’t hear it drop, i think forgiven by no one by enough hello blank blank xxxxxxxxx blank the way it should be does anybody have the time? not the answers?
Untitled
Imagine-- Flowers Monica Muznik humans as flowers My olive colored vines seeking to meet your full green luscious leaves to touch such a beauty with vines without end my vines intermingle with yours together, inseperable - positively thigmotropic twirling around each other so naturally oh, how we could sneak underneath the brush or up into the sky together, no explanation is needed of why two plants should be so affectionate We know though, before our roots are torn up and before the drought, the encounter was real evidence cannot depict a sensation, it’s natural to decay and morph, time will recreate itself and two vines may once again touch
Mika Thomas
Untitled
“From which it stands, one nation, Under God, indivisible, with liberty And justice for all.” And sit, knowing tomorrow we will stand, recite, and sit the same. And, now that I think of it with such devout, almost religious repetition, should follow inculcation, That would breed credibility for this falsity, turning this statement of “liberty” into truth Making us feel like we have achieved equality, Basically morphing reality into a simple case of mind over matter, Belief over fact. Doesn’t all of that make sense? Is it not a simple summation of our nature? But, recall that the foundation of this nation was to reach equality And slowly we approach it, but not quite there, almost asymptote to liberty. And some parts of the country closer than others, but the progress of the whole Is many times more significant than that of a single piece Which is a notion the name of our country implies, The country made from the silver threaded needles, sewing on bright white stars with the shining, unifying, notion of “equality, But are these needles just If they will not let her sew a dress for her partner Shortly after mending her own? Then they could go out together and face the public Looking well-kept and much like princesses. The notion of equality lent her false hope of protection from judgment Derision and God cling to her skin like perfume, like the one she
and her lover wear And she hears the snapping of cheap threads, That distinct popping sound, That reminds one of rethreading the needle and, starting again. Because once tested the needles rusted, and no longer sewed the country together The notion of marriage equality ripping thread and creating large holes in the fabric
Sensory Monica Muznik
Touching hands, arms, legs, intertwined wrapped up together senses gone wild two entities but one in the moment loneliness left and warmth was welcomed the night begins to end. Darkness crashes in and is compiled in the mind the mirror tells the tale wrinkles and splotches appear raining but indoors, a cloth is needed but the cause is internal expressed outwardly incapable of being understood.
I Felt the Rain Thump Alejandra Torres
I felt the Rain Thump on my roof -- as the World Died The Pitter-Patter rang in my Ears -Just as Everyone’s Fear rang in the streets -Prayers and Curses -- fell with the Drops Rhythmically and Steadily -- with a Purpose -Cried the skies -- and Buildings Toppled over Cracks in the Earth -- Cracks in the Heavens Hungry Death was at its Highest My house Tumbled -- the Neighbors yelled Cars crashed -- Explosions ignited -The ground Trembled -- the Last ambulances Wailed -All Droned out by the Rain The Rain continued -- Beating Hard and Strong -Between the Pain and Death and Blood -And then the World gasped for one Last Breath -And the Blue strived for one Last Tear --
The Corridor of Broken Hearts David Maginley
Noise slowly descended as I rose. A corridor stood before me, fresh from the scene. Echoes of lost footsteps rang through the night as I plunged into the darkness. Every thrice step, I looked toward my shadow whose heartbeat bore its way. Longing for what would come next, I slowly halted, sound pierced my heart again. A sleazy giggle dispersed as I turned to look, a voluptuous silhouette deceived my eyes. Womanly curves who craved my touch. Sorrow hit me as the silhouette turned into a duo. A hand slid down its side, caressing a full, luscious hip. Oh how I desired for that to be me! Oh how I begged for that to be me!
Reality collapsed into my head. I collapsed with grief, noticing the sacred shadows dispersed. My rhythm had to continue, the pace regulated. Mimics of spoken pleasure struck my ears with pain, each time revealing nothing. Oh how I craved to scream! Oh how I pleaded to bellow! Silenced words escaped my mouth. Finally, I reached a barren lodge; an eternal dusk engulfed me as I wept. Oh how I wanted to sleep! Oh how I demanded to rest! The dreams of the corridor forever haunt me. Suffering is its only gift, sharp and serrated as a rogue’s knife. As I lay here drunk with emotion, the corridor wreaks havoc on those who bear courage to withhold its power.
Anchored Defeat Talia Green
Beige foam fading from the sea’s rich teal Strokes with pity the sun-burnt sand, Off-white ash pierced by the anchor of defeat And stained by the wrecked stern bleeding, Crimson spreading rapidly across a shore’s murdered hope. Tired heels of a broken people Mark the ash only to be forever erased By shaming waves. Helmets fall, swords clatter to rock And he sinks to sliced knees, mourning man’s pride And his arms curl ‘round the waist of a woman, Cheek buried in her chests emanating warmth Of which the ash between his toes are void. Empty of men, he cries. Empty of men. Three hundred tears rust the iron Binding his shattered ankles to his past And his past to the anchor Six hundred more, nine hundred again Until the remnants of lost men are sealed by rust. Two fingers of a father The forearm of a son The embrace of miscellaneous gore Around the waist of a mourning wife Speared to the rust of the anchor And to the flickering memory Of the time when men had understood How to be victorious
October Bleak Anne Li
The house next door has plastic bones that dance with hollow grins. The spirit of Halloween pervades in crooked gravestones, cotton spider webs. But this here house has faerie bones, in pots from Easters past. Happy rabbits lie in preserved neglect, Stained butterflies now rods of iron black. Watering cans are broken and bleached bone white by past suns. They told me that Halloween was a terror holiday. So then the ghouls of ancient, Blood; But not the chilling whispers of yesterday.
My Favorite Time of the Year Melissa Gandhi
There was no one on the streets of Time Square, but my three idiotic friends and me. A strong Nor’easter was bringing in an immense amount of snow right before the holidays. My friends and I just got out of work and were throwing snowballs at one another. I, personally, love this time of the year. Everyone is joyous; there are Christmas decorations everywhere, bright lights, and it’s just so beautiful. A strong wind blew in, and Chad threw a snowball right at Ty’s face. We all started to throw snowballs right at Ty, until he started to throw some back and chase us. We all ran into the crowded, Misty’s coffee shop, laughing, and that’s when I saw her. She was beautiful. She had short blonde hair with black tips and her eyes were like the color of new leaves on a tree. It was love at first sight, and I knew I had to know her name. ‘Earth to Brad. Hello? Anyone home?” Josh snapped in front of my face, knocking me right back to reality. “Where were you lost, huh, bud?” asked Ty, as all three them tried to figure out where I was looking before. “Oh, man. I got ya! Brad’s got a crush on the blondie over there!” cooed Chad. Before I could even deny any of it, Ty put a hot chocolate in my hand, and all three of them pushed me towards the table she was sitting at. I stumbled over my own feet, and looked over at my friends, who were dying of laughter. She looked up at me and shook her head, and got back to her book.
Mark of Athena, read the cover.
“Alright, not only is she gorgeous, but has an amazing choice in books. She’s like my soul mate!” I thought in my head. “Um, excuse me. Do you mind if I take a seat?” I asked, nervously. “Sure, go for it,” she replied, going back to her book. “I’m Brad, what’s your name?” “Can’t you see I’m reading?” “Right, sorry,” I said, feeling the awkwardness. I slumped down in my seat, and looked over at my friends. Each one of them had a girl under their arms, even Chad. I couldn’t be alone, so I stayed in that exact seat, sipped my hot cocoa, and admired the beauty of the girl seating across from me. About twenty minutes later, she lifted her head, and closed her book, and said, “Sorry about being so rude, I just wanted to finish the book. My name is Janet. You’re Brad, right?” “Yes, I am Brad, and it’s wonderful meeting you Janet.” I replied as I kissed the back of her hand. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I really need to go, my ride is waiting outside.” And she ran off before I could even get her number. I sat back, sighed, and drank my now cold hot cocoa. For the next couple of days, my friends continued to ridicule me about Janet. I shook it off, but I was desperate to see her again. However, I had no idea where to start looking for her. I went to Misty’s Coffee Shop at the same time she and I met, everyday, since that day, but she never showed up. It was Christmas Eve, and I realized I hadn’t done any of my shopping yet, so I headed over to Macy’s, hoping to find something gift worthy.
I headed over to electronics and found Halo 4 and Black Ops 2 for Ty and Chad. I just had to find something for Josh now. And as I was walking over to the next aisle, looking at the items, I bumped into someone. “I am so sorry, let me help you with that,” I said as I bent down to pick up the dropped items. “It’s okay,” I heard, and she bent down too. We bumped heads and looked into each other’s eyes. “Janet?” I laughed. “Brad? Oh my goodness,” Janet replied. “I’m so sorry about this.” “It’s alright. Don’t worry about it.” “Hey. Do you want to get some coffee after we pay for all this stuff?” I asked, hoping the answer was yes. “Oh… I don’t know…” she started, but I cut her off and said, “Oh, come on. It will pay back for being so rude to me at Misty’s.” “Oh, alright. If you insist.” We paid and ran out into the streets, holding hands and our bags. It was snowing lightly outside. Janet ran onto the street and spun around with her hands out, sticking out her tongue to catch the falling snowflakes. I copied her, I felt like a child, again. We bumped into one another, yet again, but this time, I held her in a strong embrace, laughing. We ran into Misty’s Coffee Shop, and I stopped her in the doorway. I pointed above. She saw the mistletoe, and giggled, and shook her head. I held her tight around her waist in one arm, and her face in the other, and whispered, “We have to, it’s a rule,” as I kissed her softly.
The Litmag Staff would like to extend a very sincere Thank You to Mrs. Villanova and Mrs. DiAmico-King for all their help and guidance in producing this December 2012 issue of BCA Litmag. We could not have done it without their support and advice.