Perspective 2019-2020

PERSPECTIVE perspective

PERSPECTIVE

A Literary Magazine Comprised of Student Art and Writing

2019-2020

T able

of

C ontents :

- Writing - Art

on writing poetry - Ashley Khoo .....................................................................................................................................................

Om Mani Badme Hum - Charu Chaturvedi, Calm Before the Storm - Jacob Christy

Yellow Bird - Telvia Perez ......................................................................................................................................................................

What It Means to be a Woman - Fred de Barros Nascimento,

The Auditorium - Sam Stankard

Teenager - Emily Lekas ...............................................................................................................................................................................

The Hidden Beauty of Nature, Fall Shoes - Abigail Radel,

Land Bridge - Kristen McGrath

H*RT - Ellie Anderson ...............................................................................................................................................................................

16, 17

18, 19 20, 21

tree, first night in sengoku - Carissa Aldana

I Should Be Back in School - Nilesh Patel ..................................................................................................................................

14, 15

GRL PWR - Irada (Ang-Ang) Roopchalern

Broken Telephone - Dahlia Kirov ......................................................................................................................................................

12, 13

Nature’s Creation, Flowery Existence - Avani Bansal

Birds - Brock St. Denis ....................................................................................................................................................................

10, 11

Night Walk (DC) - Ashmitha Arun, A Curious Stranger - Irada (Ang-Ang) Roopchalern

A Collection of Six/Seven Word Poems - Various Authors ......................................................................................

8, 9

Sunset Through Perspective - Abigail Radel, Trail - Jacob Christy

In the Shadow of the Moon - Sophie Grace Posick ............................................................................................................

6, 7

Home Sweet Home - Charu Chaturvedi

That Type of Woman - Su Ertekin-Taner ..................................................................................................................................

4, 5

22, 23

Looking Up - Nilesh Patel, Flowers - Tatianna Young

This is the Fertilization Room - Tyler Schimpff........................................................................................................................

24, 25

Male Privilege Applies to God Too - Su Ertekin-Taner ...................................................................................................

26, 27

Inca Statue - Finn Murphy

Candle - Telvia Perez ..................................................................................................................................................................................

Art - Brayden Gray, Colored Aprons - Madison Balaskiewicz

2 Perspective

28, 29

Emergence - Azure Warrenfeltz .......................................................................................................................................................

Fire Reeds - Abigail Radel, Beauty Reborn - Katie Sollee

The Flight of Service Animals - Evan Hort ............................................................................................................................

30, 31 32, 33

Lizard - Grady Gillam, The Cat - Sophia Mitchell

Paranoia - Makenna Toomey ................................................................................................................................................................ 34,

The Burst - Abigail Radel, D.C. Squirrel - Jake Lansaw, Mystery - Will Moore,

those days - Ashley Khoo .................................................................................................................................................................

35

36, 37

Cinque Terra - Camden Pao, Cinque Tore - George Duffy

Laura J. Blue - Anonymous ....................................................................................................................................................................

38, 39

Modern - Leah Zimmerman, Multigenerational Hands- Thearika Phat Famous - Su Ertekin-Taner ....................................................................................................................................................................

40, 41

French Houses - Yasmine Chahlavi

Path to the Horizon - Sophie Grace Posick ................................................................................................................................. 42,

Paradise in the Ocean - Danis Khizriev

Yes - Grace Albaugh ...................................................................................................................................................................................

46, 47

sunny day - Haley Bousquet, Nature’s Sprouts - Abigail Radel, Reflection - Jacob Christy

The Spark - Anonymous ...........................................................................................................................................................................

44, 45

Pancakes - Brock St. Denis, Bright Future - Pranav Kasavaraju

Me - Anastasia Kobelev ...........................................................................................................................................................................

48, 49

Sudan’s Prayer - Clariss Valdivia, Galapagos - Leah Zimmerman

The Wheel Turns - Brenna Hughes .................................................................................................................................................. 50,

51

London, October 2018 - Samantha Lesser

Distractions - Maxine Montoya............................................................................................................................................................. 52,

43

53

Lost Child - Katrina Aldana

Art Show Collage...............................................................................................................................................................................

54, 55

Cover Design - Ava Sickler

Perspective 3

on writing poetry happiness don’t do anything for writing poems it don’t help you sort the stars from chaos don’t help you hang on to the light at the end of the tunnel because the light up there floods the space and blinds you it don’t help you discern beauty from chaos don’t help you spin words into stories stories that shine of beauty, love, and hope it is only when the tunnel is pitch black only when stars swirl amidst the chaos only when your mind can choose to grab onto those stars and only when your heart tells stories of suffering and loss, only then can your pen spin those into stories, into stories that tell of light at the end of the tunnel, of stars that light up the night sky if you seek them out. of beauty, love, and hope

- Ashley Khoo (‘20)

4 Perspective

Om Mani Padme Hum Charu Chaturvedi (‘20)

Calm Before the Storm Jacob Christy (‘22)

Perspective 5

Home Sweet Home Charu Chaturvedi (‘20)

6 Perspective

Yellow Bird Inspired by The Crucible Yellow bird, Do you hear me?

Are you the one Controlling Manipulating Tearing my heartstrings?

I used to believe that my heart, my soul, Belonged to another I swore to cherish Till death do us part.

Yet from these vows, I depart.

Confusing lust with love, I sang to you, My little yellow bird.

Tended to you, Behind my beloved’s back.

I was disillusioned by your song, Enamored by your dandelion feathers.

You controlled me, young songbird.

Lured me into sinning.

Distracted me from His Commandments.

We only met in the dark,

For we were afraid of the light.

Yellow songbird, You pulled me into the shadows, Tore me astray from my religion and Deceived me into believing I loved you.

But today, Yellow bird, I see the light.

I have shone my lantern upon you, Illuminated the shadows of our relationship, And witnessed your insanity.

I will not be an idol to you.

I will not conspire with a creature that Fabricates puncture wounds on its wings To clear its reputation.

I will no longer sleep with a Mock-yellow bird.

A bird that puts up a front of innocence, When its core is laced with corruption.

Yellow bird, I will no longer be transfixed by your cry.

- Telvia Perez (‘21)

Perspective 7

That Type of Woman My landlord was a woman In my country, that never happens She was a hard-headed, straight shooter Type of woman I paid the bills the day before they were due Because I was that Type of woman And partially because I was scared of Her type of woman She took them from my own hands with her coarse ones Burnt a couple of times by the kitchen stove In her apartment kitchen Or was it her oven?

Her legs spoke as she walked with cracks coming from her Knees and ankles That I could hear as she left my apartment door And walked to the sometimes-broken elevator Her body fully covered with wool clothing even in the summer Because it cost less She whistled as she walked down the corridor a tune which she had put together From notes on the piano that her parents could not afford for her to play She was that type of woman I heard her sidle down to the room downstairs of mine at night I heard her radio playing every night while she cleaned the dishes Or made her husband baklava Or mopped the floor The radio continued through shouts and screams and thuds that I heard most Monday evenings Echoing in my room after her husband’s fifth beer glass I guess he was that type of man

- Su Ertekin-Taner (‘22)

8 Perspective

Left: What It Means to be a Woman Fred de Barros Nascimento (‘22) Below: The Auditorium Sam Stankard (‘22)

Perspective 9

Teenager teen·ag·er

/ˈtēnˌājər/ noun a person aged between 13 and 19 years.

We are writing from our locked bedrooms Sulking after our “emotional outbursts” We’re sorry…again We are “a lot” Emotional, easily offended, insecure, spontaneous, immature, growing, searching, longing We are Yet to those who see through Mother Nature’s eyes We are so much more As we stumble down the path We pick up pieces of the mirror All different shapes and sizes Some are sharp “Handle with care” Others are smooth And slip easily into our hands Until one day we have them all And see our full reflection there But even now we are stunning I have seen it myself The talent is overpowering Sheer, raw emotion

- Emily Lekas (‘21)

10 Perspective

Sunset Through Perspective Abigail Radel (‘22)

Trail Jacob Christy (‘22)

Perspective 11

Night Walk (DC) Ashmitha Arun (‘21)

A Curious Stranger Irada (Ang-Ang) Roopchalern (‘21)

12 Perspective

In the Shadow of the Moon When I was young We were two peas in a pod I the sun and you the moon Together in our orbit

I used to know your favorite book Now I’d look it up online Your fan club knows you better than I I’m on the dark side of the moon

Slowly though you found your stride And your success burst through Your moonbeams lit the earth While I lingered in the corners

Your trophies remain on the shelf Your certificates standing tall But even the moon has shadows I shiver in the dark

The gravity of success snatched you From the world we made our own Leaving an imprint in the sidewalk And an absence of light

People hear my name And associate me with you Expect me to be as great as you The moon outshines the sun

The critics rave about your talent Your fans say you are kind But they did not see the baskets of crumpled papers No one did, but me

As long as you are there I will always be outshone With a sister like the moon I shall remain forever in her orbit

I do not know your genius I only know your pigtails Your scraped knees and fairytales And sugar switched for salt No one else saw your marvels When you first saw the wonders of the wizarding world And explored the mythology of the universe A full moon beaming brightly at me

- Sophie Grace Posick (‘22)

Perspective 13

Six/Seven Word Poems She lived, she wrote, she inspired

I’ll keep going, someone needs me

Through her eyes, you can see the world

- Sophie Grace Posick (‘22) Giggling, gossiping girls snuggle by the campfire

Rainbows glitter, we danced in the rain

Screams, gunshots, footsteps, “Mom, I love y-”

Starvation claims hollow faced, teary eyed children

- Samantha Josephson (‘20) I can hear the future.

It’s quiet.

- Brock St. Denis (‘22)

14 Perspective

Nature’s Creation Avani Bansal (‘21)

Flowery Existence Avani Bansal (‘21)

Perspective 15

The Hidden Beauty of Nature Abigail Radel (‘22)

Fall Shoes Abigail Radel (‘22)

16 Perspective

Birds When I was younger, I could hear the forest.

The soft whispers of the trees, the love-songs of tweeting birds The wind speaking into my ear, telling me the wonders of the earth Every part of nature a masterpiece, a flawless work of art Now I am older.

Wiser.

I know better now. Trees do not whisper, the wind does not sing.

Was it better that I remain in ignorance? Spending time on the imagined?

Should one indulge in the sweet nothings of imagination?

I do not know.

The birds still sing to me, telling me I am loved, reminding me they exist.

I miss them.

- Brock St. Denis (‘22)

Land Bridge Kristen McGrath (‘21)

Perspective 17

H*RT

My therapist chuckles to herself quietly and offers me a strange expression. I had been in the midst of explaining some troublesome issues of my life during that particular winter month.

“What?” I say.

She replies, “Do you realize that you never admit to being hurt? You never use the word ‘hurt.’”

At some point or another, I conditioned myself to follow a certain set of rules. My logic? Feeling hurt manifests as vulnerability, and vulnerability, in turn, removes my control from a situation. The following rules, which became my internal code, protected me from outcomes such as that.

1: Never let them see you cry.

2: Never admit to being hurt.

3: Never show weakness.

My vocabulary, expansive due to both lawyer parents and rigorous schooling, allows me to subconsciously avoid admitting what I actually feel.

Trained to mechanically function, I outwardly presented myself as achievement and drive, trying to avoid unfavorable emotions. However, inwardly, my coping mechanism morphed my being into a shell of myself-- a hard, tense, relentless, and unforgiving shell. Two versions of myself came to exist, one on auto-pilot who achieved feats, the other a full conscious parasite watching from afar.

My protective shell came with a price--each rule brought an unwelcome guest.

General Anxiety Disorder, OCD, Depression.

Those impediments only further enhanced my belief that not holding control equated to weakness. So, whenever I felt any sign of that gnawing hurt or ominous exposure, I learned to shut everything off, seeking solace within the vast and expansive nothingness of my outer shell.

18 Perspective

GRL PWR Irada (Ang-Ang) Roopchalern (‘21)

Living Encapsulated Picture this: a Floridian afternoon storm raged on as I frantically contemplated over what to prioritize--my responsibility: an after-hours journalism engagement--or attending my first therapy appointment.

As my diaphragm hyperventilates and my heartbeat accelerates, hot, angry, frustrated tears roll down my cheeks because, in that moment, I knew that I hadn’t learned to value my own health over the expectations which I attempted living up to--expectations my bleak shell had established.

Unsurprisingly, my shell, having noted the onset of unpleasant emotion, chose my responsibility. Also unsurprisingly, my story lacked in aesthetic appeal, matching the defeated demeanor of my inner self. Nonetheless, ruddy cheeks and wet eyelashes concealed nothing--my obsession with not being viewed as weak rendered me just that--small and defenseless.

Re-entering Reality How do I redefine a mentality embedded into my perception of normalcy? More so, how do I accept the inevitability of my own pain?

I’m still searching for those answers, but I’ve found that, as is with breaking most habits, it’s best to start with gradual progression--baby steps, if you will.

I began processing the initial, “That hurt me,” or “I’m vulnerable right now,” rather than negating the hurt’s existence. Slowly, I started acknowledging not only the thought but also how to adapt to and better the situation in which I am hurting or vulnerable.

Now, by no means am I claiming that within a few months I solved my most debilitating habit. Not at all. But the thing is, my rigid shell, radically, is softening. That dissipating tension, despite its reluctance to, feels so liberating. And something in me thinks that, to a certain extent, my denial of destructive behavior permits development and preparedness for future situations which I cannot control.

I’ve come to think that maturity and total invincibility do not always coincide, just as vulnerability and strength aren’t mutually exclusive. Further, my vulnerability does not equate to weakness as I once wholeheartedly believed. As it turns out, accepting and acknowledging vulnerabilities leads to personal growth, and that in itself led me to my strength.

- Ellie Anderson (‘20)

Perspective 19

first night in sengoku Carissa Aldana (‘21)

tree Carissa Aldana (‘21)

20 Perspective

broken telephone my ear was split when the sound of melodic chords slithering left and right along the keyboard was interrupted by a xylophonic chime a distraction from my distraction i glanced at the fractured screen and the same knife that cut my ear slit my eyes from my mind and my mind from my throat these letters scribbled along the cracks in the glass were a hybrid of art and language a gas station along a lone road ranging from one dialect to another a midpoint that i still haven’t reached so whatever characters i created in my head were never able to make it past my mouth as the seconds shifted to minutes and the minutes to half hours you wrote again this time in english because you noticed the seemingly infinite distance

i’ve placed between my teeth and the slavic alphabet and you told me that if i cut myself my blood would be the same shade of red as the bottom column of our flag and in the midst of tears blurring out foreign phrases i couldn’t read on my own anyways i realized how you sacrificed your words to revive mine you brought a dying conversation back to life a reassurance that regardless of the distance my culture isn’t completely lost yet the color of my blood has not faded yet

- broken telephone

- Dahlia Kirov (‘21)

Perspective 21

I Should Be Back in School Help Wanted Bring the world with you Black Rock will Make investment decisions with environmental sustainability in mind.

There are obviously some things you can’t trust, Worst Performers: Cimarex Energies, Dimondback, Morgan Industries, Callon Petroleum.

Does it matter what you’re made of?

If liberals and conservatives could agree on anything it’s this, It’s a jumbled mess Covered in goosebumps.

Some animals are more equal than others Setting: WHALE the nonprofit.

Ignore the fake climate debate, Everything they tell you is a lie This is not a future most people would desire.

I should be back in school on the other side of the globe,

How dare you,

pretend that this can be solved with business as usual and some technical solutions.

All you can talk about is a fairy tale of eternal economic growth.

If you understood and kept on failing to act then, you would be evil and that, I refuse to believe.

There is a green energy choice, Where do you see yourself in five years?

Green walls Hardwood growth exceeds removal.

- Nilesh Patel (‘22)

22 Perspective

Looking Up Nilesh Patel (‘22)

Flowers Tatianna Young (‘20)

Perspective 23

This is the Fertilization Room Inspired by Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World

Each one of us goes through life inside a bottle.

One person conditioned to rule and control He never represents things simply as they are.

He’ll push drugs that keep them all dumbed down and hope they will never see the truth around.

All hail great master!

Like chickens drinking, the students raised their heads, saw through the bottom of the glass, saw they should never be afraid to die.

It kills only the individual What is an individual?

We can make new ones As many as we like The PR transmissions will resume: “Desires deepen like a coastal shelf. Don’t have any kids yourself” “A gramme in time saves nine” “When the individual feels, the community reels” “The very words lying, treachery, and envy are never heard” “A gramme is better than a damn.” “Everyone belongs to everyone else.”

“One cubic centimetre cures ten gloomy sentiments.”

“The more stitches, the less riches.” “Ending is better than mending” “Little bottle of mine, skies are blue inside of you. The weather is always fine” The media sells it, and they live the role

24 Perspective

Each one of us goes through life inside a bottle.

We’ve got youth now and prosperity right until the end.

Never ill.

People are happy.

Shakespeare Gone.

Buried in a lead-lined coffin.

We have the feelies and the scent organ instead, The overcompensations for misery.

With the green belts wrapped around their minds They must obey like sheep.

Flick a switch open your third eye, Monsieur Monster and Mr. Savage.

We don’t need no thought control We have suffered with those that we saw suffer!

We will do thee worthy service, tell thee no lies, make no mistakings.

On the stormy sea of moving emotion, wit shall not go unrewarded.

Truth, liberty, Shakespeare, high art, and beautiful old things!

Our mothers which thou takest from us, they are done for.

We claim the right To be unhappy

- Tyler Schimpff (‘22)

Perspective 25

Male Privilege Applies to God Too God likes dresses that don’t leave much to the imagination Because he likes us better when we’re naked Too much fabric can cover up flaws No, He doesn’t like that Bare skin Is easier to mold Than that covered By cotton God prefers women who like men Like they like their Lord Worship is not only for the strong He says It is for the meek The women taste better When meek God tastes Mother Earth Her rivers are left dry Sucked out Skies suffocated Because He ingested her clouds But not the smoke Because He is allowed to take his pick It was no coincidence that God created Adam first Because Women cannot be molded without there First being a man To create them To tempt them To crave them To devour them Adam’s ribs Were not given to Eve’s bosom Because of his generosity Were they?

26 Perspective

- Su Ertekin-Taner (‘22)

Inca Statue Finn Murphy (‘21)

Perspective 27

Art Brayden Gray (‘22)

Colored Aprons Madison Balaskiewicz (‘23)

28 Perspective

Candle One match.

One strike.

One flame.

Allow yourself to escape From the shackles of your past As I slowly disappear.

Shhttz

Weep with me.

Let me wrap you In a soft glow, And caress you How your mother never did.

And I’m ignited.

A single flame Licking the glass walls That imprison me.

Weep with me little one.

You aren’t alone.

I harness destruction Onto a single wick.

Tears of wax incandescently rolling down my body, Pooling around my bottom as I slowly wane.

Watch me dance upon the walls, Your face washed in my golden light.

In your mournful eyes, A reflection of myself.

Intermittent flickers, A slight crackle in the background, Interrupted By your quivering sighs.

Weep with me, child.

Let me illuminate the tears Running down your cheeks.

I am a warm embrace of light Against the harsh reality Of what exists beyond that closed door.

- Telvia Perez (‘21)

Perspective 29

Emergence The wheels trailed along yellow slapping against the black pavement The 15-year-old mind is a naive place She was oh so happy She smiled, gazing at his curls The ear splitting screech let out by the bell, tore her back to reality.

The 16-year-old mind is a naive place She was oh so happy The sun glinted along the pristine metal, excitement oozed from the windows , The back breaking crash tore her back to reality.

Years begin to blend together More blind than ever She thought she was safe.

Happiness was her new reality.

She finally felt secure.

Then his words cut her deeper than a sword, tearing her back to reality.

She was so mistaken.

She was never the only one.

Along comes 18 Maybe she will be less naïve

The 17-year-old mind is a naive place She was oh so happy

- Azure Warrenfeltz (‘20)

30 Perspective

Fire Reeds Abigail Radel (‘22)

Beauty Reborn Katie Sollee (‘22)

Perspective 31

The Cat Sophia Mitchell (‘21)

Lizard Grady Gillam (‘22)

32 Perspective

The Flight of Service Animals A Woman tried to board a flight with her Emotional support Peacock.

At that time questions Were raised Emotional support?

Now people take a large variety of animals on airplanes Dogs run around chasing the flight attendants Cats rub against the legs unsuspecting people Snakes slither under seats and hang from the headrests hissing at people and animals alike Birds fly in the space above the seats, perching on armrests and people’s heads Rodents scurry around the floor nibbling on dropped bits of food Noah’s ark in the air.

- Evan Hort (‘22)

Perspective 33

Paranoia I’m a bird lying on the road with a broken wing.

Reality for me is as blurred like the eyes of an old man.

The future deteriorating, unlike a freshly planted seed in nutrient filled soil.

The air contains so many particles that I can’t see, like I’m being swallowed by the unknown.

Chaos controls me like a child conducting a car.

I hear everyone, they never stop talking as if they’re stuck in some never ending loop.

I hide in the dusty cupboard.

I have terrible allergies.

They’re here for me, I have to hide...

They’re here.

- Makenna Toomey (‘21)

The Burst Abigail Radel (‘22)

34 Perspective

D.C. Squirrel Jake Lansaw (‘20)

Mystery Will Moore (‘22)

Perspective 35

Cinque Tore George Duffy (‘21) Cinque Terra Camden Pao (‘22)

36 Perspective

those days to the days the frost seeps through your scarf to the days the sun rises and sets without any colour to the days the birds sing the empty tune from that ad the days country music can’t even curl the sides of your mouth and to the days you can’t force the right words from your throat there is no cure not for those days your scarf isn’t thick enough not the ones when the sky’s too cloudy for its own good or for when people aren’t the only people hypnotized by bad advertising or when country music loses its bounce not even those days your lips won’t form the right words you can do one thing, though fling off your scarf and dance in the snowstorm paint your own skyline sing louder than the birds can bounce to the beat of your own drum and write write write let the words form from the ink of your pen instead of your lips from the ice and fire in your veins and from the lub dub of your heart and tear those days apart

- Ashley Khoo (‘20)

Perspective 37

Laura J. Blue If she was locked in a room with her favorite person In the world, I can’t imagine How often she’d be mentioning Money, how successful her kids Aren’t, running and Disappointment to Tobi, poor Tobi, Who puts up with it.

Her mind works like rocky mountains, Unstable, flowing from understanding to ignorant All before 7:00 AM. She drinks Diet Raspberry Snapple, to her tasting like heaven, But heaven rarely exists when her mind is covered In stone, yet aluminum on the inside.

Flexible sometimes, but still fully filled with false and fake Failures.

Sitting in her blue house, sipping her Diet Dr. Pepper, watching Survivor, but dreaming about a life where her Children satisfy her expectations.

She’s craving

Modern Leah Zimmerman (‘22)

38 Perspective

Within these dreams for someone to make her life okay, To carry her out of debt, To end the world war that occurs everyday in her life.

She doesn’t know how to handle her madness, She’ll yell and scream at me; She’ll throw the empty Snapple bottle, smashing it into the ground; She’ll tear the blue paper off the walls of the new house she just bought, as if pulling out her own hair.

Her aluminum mind will calm her only enough To tell me to lie About how unhappy I am with this life.

To tell me to lie About her bipolar mood swings.

Her internal psychoticy infecting the house; The blue and brown vines climbing up the walls Tumbling out of her.

She doesn’t mean to long for the wishes she dreams of.

She doesn’t mean to have an appetite for successful children.

She doesn’t mean to damage me with her words.

All this time, She has been trying to utter: “I love you.”

- Anonymous

Multigenerational Hands Thearika Phat (‘21)

Perspective 39

Famous Am I a celebrity now? I cried when I had placed pink feathered boas around my neck I choked on sparkles at the age of six Begging for my mom to confirm that I looked like Some actress or other The pink tights had wound around my legs like ivy Up to my chubby waist squeezing in the fat that I was ashamed to have

Age thirteen was the double digits and the double C cup Not because I had grown into them but because I liked wearing them My first apple phone was meant for pictures I took In the too-big bras because I no longer wore the pink feathered boas To cover myself up Naked was the new fashion And models the new celebrities

Sixteen was when I shed the bra Legs wide open sprayed with sugar perfume Welcoming the boys who thought they were men Humankind turned from human to animal Cheetah was the new pattern that Celebrities wore

When seventeen came along I had no more to shed So I shed my skin The boys had already dissected me like the frog they were told to dissect In biology So I shed Like the boa constrictor I grew up as Jaws unhinged to devour the latest tabloids Because I lived off celebrities’ style Until I too became empty like them

- Su Ertekin-Taner (‘22)

40 Perspective

French Houses Yasmine Chahlavi (‘22)

Perspective 41

Path to the Horizon I long to walk to the other side of the HorizonWhere all my dreams come true, Not Disney but Destiny Where my innermost desires are achieved.

A place where heavenly angels rejoice A place where I am satisfied Where anything is possibleAnd nothing is out of reach If I could just reach it...

And see my destinySee my hopes and dreamsSee the other side of the horizon.

What would it take to walk to the horizon?

Surely, it’s not as simple as a path of stones If it was, wouldn’t I be there already?

No, I need to forge my own path...

Do I need to set the stones by hand? Maybe with others’ help?

But when I use up my stones will I abandon what has cost so much?

Will I let myself slowly sink into the ocean, the pit of debt?

Joining so many others who have fallen into the trap of temptation?

Will I sink, or will I use others’ bodies as my stones Step on their heads and drive them down, down into The perpetual abyss until they are sinking Sinking slowly Will I use them to propel myself forward, to better help me?

Will I send them into oblivion so I can see my dreams?

Will I take away someone’s brother, father, daughter, mom Only so I can reach the sunset? Will I do what it takes?

Will I watch apathetic at their faces Shocked by my double-edge betrayal Pierced by my selfishness and flaming pride Torn to tatters by my thirsty talons Shoved underneath the horizon

42 Perspective

Then, when I reach the horizon The crumbling corpses elevating me higher Will it still be the gilded wonderland I dream it is?

Or will it resemble something closer to what I deserve...

Will it be a place where torture reigns supreme, Filled with fire and suffering Where I am again on high But punished for what I have done to other people Thinking, vainly, that it would allow me to reach heaven When instead I am the one under the grave.

What if reaching the horizon Means throwing away the lives of others?

What if those who work in earnest, The ones without the intentions of achieving perfection, Reach the heavenly horizon While I am thrust into hell.

- Sophie Grace Posick (‘22)

Paradise in the Ocean Danis Khizriev (‘20)

Perspective 43

Left: Bright Future Pranav Kasavaraju (‘22) Inspired by Weekly Shonen Jump

Pancakes Brock St. Denis (‘22)

44 Perspective

Yes Yes Can, you, really be addicted to video games?

The latest research suggests it’s not far-fetched -at allespecially when you consider all the societal and cultural factors that make video games so attractive.

- Grace Albaugh (‘23)

“Gaming disorder” Excessive and irrepressible Preoccupation With video games.

Excessive game play Is a symptom Of a Larger Underlying Problem Like depression Or anxiety.

“The more I played The more depressed I got.

But the more Depressed I got, The more I played.”

Perspective 45

Me Eyes like Dory from Finding Nemo.

Cropped tank tops, short flower skirts, Nike high tops Angel hair with a blonde spark.

Peanut butter and jelly, Reese’s, Nutterbutter crackers Licks the last sip of coffee off the cup Shyness inside her body Do the laundry, clean the dishes, clean your room Parents’ voices in one ear and out the other but by 8 pm, phones are down, studies are out

- Anastasia Kobelev (‘22)

sunny day Haley Bousquet (‘22)

46 Perspective

Reflection Jacob Christy (‘22) Nature’s Sprouts Abigail Radel (‘22)

Perspective 47

Left: Sudan’s Prayer Clariss Valdivia (‘21) Below: Galapagos Leah Zimmerman (‘22)

“A picture is a poem without words.”

- Horace

48 Perspective

The Spark It was just a small flicker in the dark Nobody thought much of it.

Just a weak light trying to be Heard.

But then one day, the flame didn’t let The darkness swallow it.

The black faded away as the Warmth surrounded.

The fire became ablaze and burnt All who underestimated it.

It kept growing, and feasting, and Believing.

People became aware of the spark.

They were afraid to touch it.

Afraid to underestimate it.

They were astounded by the power.

Afterall, people only remembered the time when It was just a small flicker in the dark.

- Anonymous

Perspective 49

The Wheel Turns She entered, lonely, into dark, And took it as her own.

She wished for some to comfort her, And from dark they were born.

Two were sky, two were sea, Three for war, four as the breeze.

Only one laid claim to light, Only he was Hers, Though as he shone in radiance The dark was all the worse.

To be away was death itself, To be too close was pain, And even if his Lady loved The rest were all in shame.

A trick? A trap? A bargain struck?

How could they save their souls, They ponder’d, removing such a man, But the Lady stopped, and heard, and waited, And made her cunning, poison plan.

Forlorn, she found the light she loved and struck a deal.

They would forge their hearts eternal Into rings, in gilded steel, And bronze, and iron, and all that was And dawn and dusk and noon because They loved the other, they promised this.

They sealed the compact with a kiss.

The Lady peered into his eyes Began her plan, and cried.

50 Perspective

Her man sunk deep into the dark He was not hurt; he bore no mark.

He went down in silence.

The ring wrapped ‘round him, chained him there, Although his Lady wept and wept, All the others did was stare, He, betrayed, merely slept.

Around him tears solidified as though becoming ground, And thus, from bitter origin, the Lady made his crown.

The world itself imprisoned him Within it, chained, he lay; His Lady missed him desperately And so, she wished for Day. Some still hear her weeping, softly, in the dead of night, And though she mourns him desperately, Dawn comforts her with light.

- Brenna Hughes (‘21)

London, October 2018 Samantha Lesser (‘21)

Perspective 51

Distractions tweet tweet

Looking onto the window sill I notice a small blue bird peering back at me

Titling its head curiously and pecking at the thin glass

Admiring it, I crack a grin

Then return to my homework with the cheerful chirping as an accompaniment

After a long day of classes, I mosey into the kitchen

Collapsing into a firm chair, I open my English book and drift into the pages tweet tweet

I lift my gaze to find the blue bird once again looking at me

It has grown, long sky-blue feathers blending into navy

Indifferently, I return to my English book and try tuning out the bird’s chirrups

Lost Child Katrina Aldana (‘21)

52 Perspective

53

Sprinting through the front door, I throw my laptop onto the kitchen table

The final draft of my essay must be turned in tomorrow

I have not written a word

Typing vigorously, I start m— Tweet Tweet

It’s back.

Grown even bigger than before New ugly black streaks race around its beak TWEET TWEET TWEET TWEET

Frustrated, I shove my earbuds in to block out the trill

Then shift back to typ— BING

1 new notification

I pull the pods from my ears and launch my phone across the room TWEET TWEET TWEET

One hand snatches up the laptop and the other hand shoulders my backpack

I stride up the stairs and slam the door to my bedroom

After reopening the laptop an— BING BING BING

3 new notifications

While sitting at the kitchen table, my eyes flutter toward the window sill The bird has not returned today After showing my parents that essay’s grade, they took my phone away.

- Maxine Montoya (‘21)

Perspective 53

Art Show Collection

54 Perspective

Perspective’s editorial staff practices a blind submission process.

We used InDesign, Photoshop, and DaFont to create this issue of Perspective.

A huge thank you to all who helped make what you are now holding (or reading online) possible! Mrs. Brown, Ms. Lane, Mr. Bied, and Mrs. Gonzalez, everybody in the Art and English departments who encouraged their students to submit work: we are so grateful. Thank you for the guidance and inspiration you give.

Thank you to all who submitted; we loved reading and viewing your work! Please submit again next year so we can see your growth as writers and artists. Thank you, Bugle Fam, for a great year!

If you look at this cover right side up, the bird flies. If you turn it 180, the bird falls. 2020 has been a topsyturvy year and it often feels like we are falling. But if we have the right perspective, we can also fly.

Thank you, Sarah, Ava, Su, Ian, Atticus, and Avani for your wisdom and creativity! Namaste, Little Flowers! -Ms. J

Perspective 55

The nightingale springs forTHth, taking flight.

Gusts of wind curl thThe corners of branches left to fly As tHthe sun roars its untamed glory, chasing Night to thTHe edges of THthe earTHth, Echoing thTHe cries of THthe dark.

Singing thtHe tune of sorrRRow for her fallLLen comrades That littTTer thTHe forest flOOoor, Morphing thTHe forgottTTen into melodies of beauty The nightingale springs forthTH, taking flight.

- Ashley Khoo (‘20)