The Repeater 24-25

The Repeater Volume 28

2024-2025

CGHS 2024-25 Note from the Editor The theme of this issue is "Synesthesia," a rare phenomenon in which multiple senses are connected in a person's brain. This leads to an involuntary experience of colors and sound, texture and smell, light and touch. I have experienced synesthesia from a young age. Being a synesthete has opened my eyes to seeing our world from a vivid, vibrant perspective. I have color-grapheme synesthesia, so I view letters, words, and numbers as individually and inherently colored. I try to convey this through my writing and use it as a tool to accelerate creativity. My hope is that this issue will inspire my Gibbons peers to think originally and see the wonderful world God has given us through a more beautiful, vibrant lens.

- Amelie Flagler, co-president of The Repeater

CGHS 2024-25 Repeater Team Amelie Flagler - Co-President Cy Sagan - Co-President Alex Kwak - Art Liaison Gracie Mihalyo - Photography Liaison Maggie Kozlowski - Writing Consult Ms. Lauren Owen - Club Advisor

Cover Art: Alex Kwak

Colors of the Rain Abigail Gissel

“A Blank Page” Amelie Flagler

My greatest enemy is a blank page, My biggest fear is that I’m stuck in a cage, And the words are spilling out, the phrases of speech, But the ideas are heightening way out of reach I grasp for the sentences, reach through the bars, But I’m as far from the stories as Earth is from Mars Then the characters, backstories, settings and plots Billow away- I can’t connect the dots The stories sink down to the depths of the ocean, As I search for a way to express my emotion, The letters fall short, the tales still untold, My thoughts freeze over like a pond in the cold, So I stopAnd I stareThen I desperately waitThe words start to appear, with each mark on the slate, Inspiration stops hiding, the world gets much brighter, This is a poemAnd I am a writer.

Abigail Marr

“Eating the Unconventional” Ava Rutkowski

Shoveling bunches of weeds into her mouth, Adrianne dipped her feet into the murky lake until she couldn’t see them anymore. She hasn’t had her fill. To wash down the wildflowers, she scoops up the lake water. People find her presence as invasive as the plants she chews. Adrianne was born to consume. Her mother said she was delivered gnawing on her umbilical cord. Her mother said after each haircut, the stylist would give her a lollipop, and she’d eat the stick and all. Her mother said she’d be hungry after eating a week's worth of meals in twenty minutes. Her mother said Adrianne’s hunger would kill her. She was probably right.

When Adrianne got up from her grassy patch, her skirt was stained green. She walked until her feet hurt. Her complex was exactly one foot ache away from everything. She greeted the porch pirates that sat outside the lobby and started up to her apartment. “I am hungry,” she thought.

The hallway was small so only two people could squeeze past each other at a time. “Hello, Adrianne,” said the sickly, thin, pretty woman who had a habit of blocking her way. She was holding a little brown box. She was around Adrianne’s age and assumed Adrianne didn’t do much of anything. Even so, she constantly spoke about what new diet she was on or a new movie everyone loved, but she hated whenever they ran into each other. Last week she was on a low carb, no sugar, keto diet. Adrianne didn’t remember her name; she never did. “Hello,” Adrianne mumbled. The woman opened her mouth wide and began chattering. “You should make eye contact with the people you talk to, speaking clearly and smiling goes a long way. You’re very lucky I’m an empathic individual, and I understand people intuitively.

It’s my gift. Yesterday, when we spoke, I could tell you were down in

the dumps, intuitively, of course. So I bought you this cake. A wedding cake was all they had on sale. Last week’s diet was a total bust, so now I’m fasting for the next day or so. Not for religious reasons, of course; I’m not a hack! Ha!” The woman was nearly out of breath but still had enough energy to let out a hearty laugh at her own joke. “So, here’s your gift. You’ll like it.” The woman handed her the box, but her hand lingered on Adrianne’s. Adrianne felt full, so she yanked her hand away. The woman smiled with a twinge of sadness. “I am here for you.” She was done. “Thank you, Miss, but I don’t-” Adrianne was cut off by the woman, who was not in fact, done. “There is no need to thank me. I consider myself a philanthropist of sorts.” When Adrianne went to reply, she was already smiling and walking down the stairs. Adrianne opened the box in her room and saw a little wedding cake. She ignored the receipt with the woman’s name on it; she didn’t want to know her name. It’s a shame: I usually like cake. She forced open her window and dumped the cake onto the busy street below. She hunted for roaches in her room. “I am hungry.”

Captivation Alex Kwak

“Fresh Cut Grass” Amelie Flagler

Our foreheads turned scarlet from the beams and the rays, Our hearts raced as fast as the passing of days, Grass cuttings clung to our rubber rain boots, A friendship as strong as the willow tree roots.

Wrens chirped in tune with our bubbling laughter, We hid in the bushes and climbed up the rafters, Each moment was precious, we’d meet up at dawn, ‘Til the last lick of dusk, when the sunset was gone.

As the weather grew colder, and the world caught a chill, We tossed up bright leaves, and we rolled down each hill, Our memories were as numerous as the letters we’d send, There is no greater gift in this world than a friend.

Water Lily Molly Wilkins

“I Remember When” Beatrice Rand

I remember when I felt the warm air on my skin The cool breeze across my face The relaxing vacations I would go on Exploring new cities and discovering beautiful landscapes Why did you disappear?

I remember when I would go on long bike rides and walks through the forest Taking the time to appreciate the lush greenery and blooming flowers all around me How did it get so cold?

I remember when I didn’t have to worry about school When I could stay up late and sleep into the afternoon Without the pressure of due dates What happened to you?

I remember when I could go to the pool with my friends and swim with them in the ocean Not stressing over schoolwork Where did you go, summer?

Take the Bait Alex Kwak

The Shores of France Eleanor Roys

Best Friend Alex Kwak

Emerald Voyager Mia Bocarro

“Hope Diamond” Chloe Robertson

Our eyes meet from across the room You are a finely cut diamond A sharp jaw, intelligent eyes, a perfect smile Or maybe I am biased You smile at me, shining pearls.

Coasting across the room, you offer to buy me a drink. Hope shines in your eyes as I smile back, a dazzling accessory adorning my face.

We talk for hours at the bar, our conversation golden.

We are drunk, but not off top-shelf liquor.

Every word from your mouth, French champagne.

Sapphire eyes ask me to come back to your room. I answer wordlessly We arrive at a palace, a shining beacon amongst plain buildings We laugh, get comfortable, wrapped in fine linens and silk To you I am far more valuable than anything in this room, a rare gem.

Someone who sees you beyond your money, your ancient curse, The riches of your family, a ghost that haunts you, an undeniable scar.

And you see me: coal in a sea of diamonds, and choose me every time.

I am a stranger here, not of this world A world ruled by an unforgiving king and bejeweled queen A world of rubies, diamonds, sapphires, all cut and shaped to perfection.

We go to sleep on silk sheets, as soft as the sweet nothings you whisper

I wait as your breath slows-one, two, three Like the first night we met, when I was the shining one, saving you from unwanted flirtations, pretending to be something I could never beyours.

Slipping out of bed, I rummage through the room Diamond necklaces, bejeweled rings, stone-filled bracelets fill my pockets, falling into place, fulfilling their one and only purpose.

I believe this time the shame is on you, “fooled” a fifth time by my charms, a thief only after your riches.

This game we play, a refined cat and mouse, a chase that never ends We are the sun and moon, in love but never to be together You are a shining heir, and I am a midnight thief, To you, the Hope Diamond, to everyone else, an ugly lump of coal A pleading note catches my eye, as you turn in your sleep I scan it, and smile, promises of eternal happiness and security if I stay A promise more valuable than the jewels in my pocket Maybe it is I who am the fool, who chooses a life of danger One day, I write One day I will stay the night Until then, I slip on my clothes and out the window Leaving behind nothing more than a lipstick mark on your cheek.

The only sign I was ever there.

Sarah Mester

“Rainy Day”

Meghan Carraher Putting on Funny hats and smiles Is a fine Endeavor For lighting up dreary days When we’re stuck inside

Of course they Had planes and large ships While we have Couch cushions But it's not to scale anyways.

Make your move, captain.

Judging by The downpour outside We will need A new plan To keep the boredom at bay Until dinner time

Look out the Window, the rain stopped Now we can Go outside And catch some green frogs And maybe a fish.

I’ll take up Juggling and law And you can Be the judge Sentencing the rain away For another day.

If we make One more pillow fort We can stage Great battles Of the Pacific Theater: Coral Sea, Midway

Deck of Cards Joya Beniamen

“Navy Blue”

Maggie Kozlowski A blind man once asked me “What is Navy Blue?”

I replied, “For me, Navy Blue is not a color or something to pigment the objects of this world. For me, Navy Blue is not a physical item that you can hold or an article of clothing that you can wear. Navy Blue goes beyond traditional eyesight, consisting of more than the passage of light throughout our retinas.

Emotions flow through my soul while mental depictions flash through my mind at the sound of Navy Blue. The depths of a lake, shadowed by trees hangs on the periphery of my mind - its shadows now hanging over my thoughts.

Navy Blue is like the eye of the storm, representing the improbability of permanence while the very essence of it screams for an eternity.

Navy Blue consists of the quiet moments of the world - the ones that everyone knows exist, but no one seems to notice. Navy Blue holds the promise of serenity and peace while vowing to include mystery and elegance.

To me, Navy Blue is the comforting promise of not being forgotten in this fickle world of vivid colors and images.”

Antibes, France Eleanor Roys

“Blessed Beyond Measure” Genesis Zamora

He has blessed me with sight, Through my eyes, I see wonders, From mountains that tower over all, To infinite waters.

Because of Him, I’m able to hear, My ears can be filled with melodies, From the soothing morning chirps, To daring roars of thunder.

He granted me the ability to touch, Within the skin I bear, I can feel The warmth of the sun on my face To the cold breeze that crawls up my spine.

Enabling my nose, He gave me sense of smell To breathe in the earth’s perfume From the fragrant bloom of flowers To the fresh dirt after it pours rain.

He even lets me savor what I consume With this mouth, I’m able to taste The sweet honey bees make To cold, citrusy lemonade.

Unworthy of so many gifts He blesses me each day In every moment, And not once does His love fade away.

“The Brobdingnagian” Ava Rutkowski

The stars brush against my eyelashes My breaths, when too deep, cause earthquakes If I felt it fitting to sit and ponder life, I’d crush civilizations under my rump And I wouldn’t notice a thing, So I stand perfectly still No one knows I’m here If you did, you’d have tried to get rid of me by now I’ve quieted down my voice for only you to hear God attempts to beckon me home, but I refuse I like watching you all work I like watching you all spill your coffees on your keyboards I like watching you miss the train and poach birds Those birds can be annoying when they peck me, so I do truly appreciate the poaching But I think you knew that I don’t know how you found me. Like I said, I stand perfectly still to avoid this very situation What are you saying?

Your voice is so tiny I can’t even begin to understand your words I guess that’s the case with your lives too I can’t understand you I do love you all, though

There is a woman across the street who beckons me You cannot see her over your buildings and mountains I’ll lift you Do you see her?

She used to be a beautiful bronze, but I’ve watched her transform I have grown to love the green She’s still small, but she’s bigger than you all Sometimes I hope to fall asleep, But it’s been so long I can’t exactly lay down I see a big blue in the distance that I’ve dreamt of lying in I cannot move even if I wanted to now The ground is swallowing me up And I’m too tired Thank you for listening Although I doubt you even understood a word I spoke My voice has been so unused and broken I’m sorry for stealing your tower and your civilizations I’ve learned to not move I’ve learned to watch I’ll place you down now Goodbye

Layce Chappell

“Color Palette” Sierra Gruber

Red is the fire, all bold and bright, A flame that dances into dusk.

Blue is the sky, vast and deep, A serene sea where dreams may lay.

Yellow is the sun's vibrant glow, A golden light that starts to show.

Green is the grace, soft and wide, Where life and hope both tend to hide.

Purple is the twilight’s hue, A quiet world of stars and dew.

Colors together, a vibrant song, A painted world where we belong.

A Different Lense Gracie Mihalyo

“The Source of Life” Eli Seif

Religion shapes the pathway of human life.

Like a sculptor whittles his sculpture into a work of art, Faith forms a human’s heart.

Leading to the destination of our dreams, It never seems to mislead.

Our source of acumen, It leads to heaven.

The doctrine of the brain, it forms all that we contain.

The mentor of the mind, Teaching you always, even when you are blind.

Catholicism tells the story of Jesus Christ, the Messiah, Who saved the world from Satan’s reign.

The resurrection and the life, The source of everlasting purification, Leads to God, the Lord of all creation.

Islam explains the wisdom and perfection of Allah’s immortality.

He rules humanity in his domain, With his mercy as great as totality.

The Quran, words that shine in the darkest night, Teaches the importance of being upright.

Buddhism tells of the Middle Way, A road of tranquility where spirits are not led astray.

Patience opens the door to wisdom, Just as a child grows through life’s system.

Judaism preaches the sacred scrolls, Where in synagogues, prayers are made for their souls.

Through adversity, through tough desert migrations, Faith is steadfast, merging all the nations.

A guiding light, a merciful mentor, Many paths exist, though all lead to the same center, Religion, forever. A spirit to embrace, a spirit to remember.

Peace of Mind Molly Wilkins

Crumple, Crush, Twist & Fold Lola Holderness

The Heart of Kristie's Garden Leah Smedley

“The Colors of Girls” Madelyn Frewerd

The teachers say, “Pink is for a girl; blue is for a boy” The hate of the color began there The idea of being a girl scared them They’d hear, “I need some strong boys” They would want to help They would carry too much to prove themselves Afraid to be different, they would change to what boys wanted Afraid, they hid their ideas and options from others to fit in Afraid, they bite their tongues Some of the girls like the idea, enjoying, not worrying about life Some of the girls don’t like the idea but let it happen Some of the girls hate the idea and fight against it Their spark is lost and won’t be found until they find themselves, but they are lost too

Jacinda van Wakeren

Jacinda van Wakeren

Elizabeth Harper Rachel Swinarski

Fading Coral Alex Kwak

Embrace the Shake Sophia Curtis