Chasing The Light | Spring 2020

Calliope CHASING THE LIGHT

Calliope

CHASING THE LIGHT

THE ID AND THE EGO

LILY PIREVA

THE RAY S TEERADA THIA

It’s aimless at the bottom of the ocean I’m stuck, I’m str uggling The only thing I can do is wander and dr ift along the tides Regardless of what I want, I can only sink deeper into these bottomless water s I have only one thing I wish for—to touch the r ays

Sometimes I feel like I can touch them, bathe in maze . I want to escape to the top of this ocean, to be free of the gr asp tying me down. I would r un on the lands above where the sun would greet me ever y day. And sleep on the mountains’ peaks where the moon’s illumination would bid me goodnight. As I lay in these water s and sink, I’ll continue to dream until the day I can be free .

S WEET WATER

YASMEEN RAFEE

It’s this that you discover, loving them is like sweet water.

It’s the shimmer of sweat upon one’s brow, a mar ked tan line tr acing across browned skin, gentle wr inkles r unning down a plaid r ayon blouse , uner r ing war mth blooming affectionately within, lily pads lifted upon a stilled lagoon, the r ichness of the color blue

my love for you is just as constant and deep

It’s droplets upon cr acked lips, the hint of a smile gleaming through night time’s bliss, sand shifting amongst the rock-silted tide , soothing kisses upon freckled cheeks, water that is tender ly sweet.

THRIVE S AFA MOHAMMAD

IMMOR TAL IDEALISM

C ATHY CHOI

dearest, we spent all of days gone like this:

lapping up the star s in the lake of night pooling in the bur geoning sky, watching snow cr ystals nestle blossoms in our hair,

the meteor s dazzled us with ever y tur n, and we danced to their rhythm as hoops of molten rock metal rose to the planet’s skin; it only bleeds silver

the sun shone ever gold, and we are forever

but she was a tulip with a white petal crown and brown petal shoes. a hundred bees blessed her each day. she was watered by the holy hand of another until her lips were laced with lilies and her skin felt safe between her scar s. oh love , do not for get the garden that gr aced you. i could not go on if the weeds remembered your wr ists.

I WANTED T O LOVE HER RIGHT

MAIA SCHWALLIE

JU L Y 1 6, 1 969 TRI S YIA RAHIMI

golden sun r ays

cer ulean seas

gentle tides

endless meadows

yellow sundress

empty highways

city at sundown

the palace gardens

br ight balconies

pr istine white marble

the pr incess’s waltz

a str anger’s silhouette

softest lullaby

sweet r ain

air at midnight

dinner on the moon

contented sigh

aching nostalgia that makes your hear t heavy

she loves you, but she’s afr aid to say

to where the tr aces of my dreams remain i hope you feel the same

SNOW MAN

MICHAEL ROMANOV

little pebbles poke into my spine relics of jour neys this tr uck as taken, chackies left for dust.

cold, cr isp air nips at my bare ar ms goosebumps r ise , making my ams rough like the pebbles

above is the cr ystal glass of a snow globe and i am gazing out at the wor ld above

and the snow falling around me is instead thousands of star s twinkling from a distance a gentle silence falls, a fresh coat of snow on the bottom of this snowglobe

SNOW GLOBE

RACHEL KUNKEL

ONLY THE SUN KNOW S HOW T O SHINE

MAIA SCHWALLIE -

DEC AY

JORDAN HOWARD

JOSEPHINE MO

A dim glow sur rounded town. It was nothing compared to the fabled glor y of the city of gold: El never wither and the sun casts a br illiant shimmer on ever ything that touches its land. It’s the creation of a fever dream. Children are taught of its glor ies ever yday in hushed whisper s. It is the center of society’s

off with you and a small crew People called us cr azy, said we were making a mistake Whether it was the r ight or wrong choice didn’t change our desire for a better wor ld The sky was our roof Ever y night, we pointed towards the heavens as the star s above dr ipped like diamonds.

“Soon, we will live in a house that even they will be jealous of,” we laughed.

We wandered without a set route We tossed our lives like wishing coins, living in the moment The thr ill of adventure- slowly disappeared as the days dr agged on. The hazy sky blocked my view. Without a map to show me the way, I was dr iven by nothing but passion and distor ted dreams half shrouded in smoke . My eyes were blinded with the illusion of progress.

“Where is the end of our long jour ney? What kind of a leader are you?” were the only words that came out of the crew’s mouths as they abandoned us.

You said that you would follow me until the end but you too, let go of my hand eventually. As you hear t twisted as it grew. A cor set of thor ns that felt like poison wr apped my hear t and never faded. I

“Open your eyes,” my dream whispered.

I shouted pr aises to myself inside my head. Stepping onto glistening roads, I roamed the city for year s that belonged solely to me . It shimmered in the sunlight, br ight, almost painful- Something was not r ight. The city was so br ight… but why was my hear t so cold? Ah- There was no war mth. I reached out, seeking your hand that was no longer there . Gold walls melted into br icks of lead, while beautiful marble halls dar kened to cr umbling br ick and paint I str uggled to breathe standing alone

“Take responsibility for your results Why are you in despair? This is the future you r uined your self ”

OMINOUS HALLWAY

KEELY MILLER

YASMEEN RAFEE URBAN GLOOM

It’s that moment, the silhouettes of the skyscr aper s looming over the streets, the setting sun slicing through the urban gloom, when you see it in your father.

when you step closer, you can see it: the hunch to his shoulder s, the wr inkle between his dar k eyebrows, the ner vous sweat beading upon his woolen scarf.

A cold wind blows through the street, and he hums, pulling you into his side . Stay with me , little one , he chuckles. I’ll stay with you.

there’s exhaustion laced in his voice . It’s a low hum, inter twined with a throaty r asp In it, you see giants falling, succumbing to the slumber of the ear th It’s a heavy wind, howling in the pipes and cr acks in the city’s asphalt, its clouds obscur ing the sun There’s the stunning weight of the urban gloom, r ushing over you

He presses you closer, insistently, and your outside , he mur mur s.

It’s that moment, when you hear the defeat in your father’s r umble , that the child inside weeps within you.

Y

I’ve been tr aveling this road out on my search, I was naïve and young and stupid, believing that there could be a cure for an standing at a for k in the road, all my exper iences and adventures behind me , I wonder if either will give me what I seek under stood why. “It will be a hard jour ney,” they would say. “Why

Happiness is of no use to me . I have found happiness along this road by connecting with the people of this wor ld: some like me , with r aging beasts inside of them, dr iving them, needing to be fed, whereas other s were stretch deep into the ground on which they have always stood. Happiness is something you can make , all on your own, but it is no cure

You see , what I seek is something to quench a great thir st of mine , a dr ive as basic as food or water or shelter What I seek is satisfaction, to feel comfor table enough with myself and the wor ld that I no longer have a desire for something more . bookstore I used to visit when I wanted—no, needed—to tr avel to another wor ld. Initially I came about once a week, just to pick

up new books to take home; that tur ned into daily visits to read whole novels; then my hunger forer y waking minute , but that only whet the appetite of my star ving inner beast.

When I thought I’d read near ly talked to the owner about ordering new books.

He smiled at me , kindly, as if he under stood. “You’ve got a bad got just the thing for you ” And he handed me a couple books on backpacking and sent me on my way.

spoke to, I always felt like there was something more I could have been doing. You know, I even tr ied settling down for a while , too; in a village so remote it wasn’t on any map you could come across I know I could’ve been happy there , but I because the people were simple or the town was ugly—in fact, they were the opposite . One day the great beast within me stir red, ur ging me onward, so I packed my meager belongings and set off on the road again, continuing as if I had never left.

WANDERL US T

Today, here , now, I must make a choice , and hope it leads me to satisfaction. One side is the well-tr aveled path home; the other is the same to a new place , a new adventure , a new life .

Satisfaction isn’t something

I left home the next day with the clothes on my back and not near ly enough money. I tr avelled the wor ld believing that I simply needed a change in location, in matter where I went or who I

happiness is Although—maybe this road is just my destiny, and I will seek satisfaction forever And yet, that great beast within me pulls me forward, making its choice for me , begging the same question I’ve begun to ask myself:satisfaction?

SOURCE

JANINE DIAS

WHEN WE SETTLE BEN

KALISH

long for all to be okay. is “okay” “settling” to want to need?

to sound entitled, we lose our r ight, and though there’s no approving, “okay” prevails the night gr ateful not to settle for much, but soon we settle for our own, and become less present yet still we know i should cr y, and i can’t cr y, and things that made us matter now cease to tr y.

cannot lament. mistakes cost perception, an incog scent

we must settle: a child must walk, but when we settle we lose hope; we lose passion; we lose ur gency; we lose our spar k

we lose our goals; we lose our place we lose our senses; we lose our love we lose our sleep we lose our dimples; we lose our hair we lose our desires

We lose something. we lose our tear s we lose our health we lose our minds, our thoughts, and our consciousness.

we lose our selves and we are lost and we don’t know if we will ever be found again

NIGHTLIGHT

KATE OS TROW SKI

Moonlight streams in through the windows. Lying on my bed, a beauty all dressed in black, save for her emer ald green eyes. Her purr ing almost drowns out popping up on my phone A faint glow emanating from my laptop, the tippity tap tap tap

The clock reads 3 a.m. In a few hour s, I’ll go to school.

My sanctuar y My room. An empty bottle of Coke , rolling around listlessly on the car pet. A half-eaten ice cream sandwich, And I enjoy the silent, yet not-so-silent, bit of har mony.

Ever ything as it should be . Peace within the dar kness. I know that once I fall asleep, I’ll then have to wake up And this moment of tr anquility, all my inspir ation, thoughts, motivation will be gone

Now, now I am still invigor ated, ener gized by the light of the moon, by the dar kness, by the not-so-silent silence , by the hymns of the dusk by these soft r ituals, the obsidian sky, and my black beauty

I feel it cour sing in my veins, like a lifeline , this blood of the night. It calls me And each night I answer, reaping the rewards. In my room.

Feather y hair and untied shoes, she sits at the edge of the water Her head is heavy with thoughts

under the thin sheet of frost, and lie there . The lake is bitter ly silent, but she can almost make out the steady thr um of wings against her hear t.

She can’t remember when, but at some point in time , a moth had perched itself in the space between her lungs, encapsulated by her r ib cage . The plump creature was easy to tune out, especially when the loud birds in her head were screeching.

steady pulses. Its antenna, willowy feather s, sensing for places of light

It was always opening the cur tains, tur ning on the lamps,

even when she made it clear she would r ather splay her self out on the surface of despair So no, the moth was not wanted. And that didn’t stop it from taking care of her

A breeze drew her from her thoughts, making tr ails over the water. The way the light fell upon the r ipples in str ipes

She sighed, then tied her shoes and got up. She supposed she would listen to the feather y creature in her chest, not-so-inconspicuously nudging her to go home . She would dr aw a war m bath, maybe brew some tea, and read her book in bed, with the dying sun of twilight streaming through the window.

LOVE IN MOONLIGHT

MARGARITA KAZAK

ES THER LIM

I dreamt that I met Light. Light let me hold her hand. Light wasn’t holding mine , though. No, she wasn’t.

Light told me things. Things I had longed to hear for a long time Her voice r ang in my hear t, Echoed across the catacombs of my inner-thoughts She emptied those cluttered mausoleums

I didn’t want Light to let go of my hand. Just a little longer, please? Don’t let me go. Please . She didn’t even say goodbye . She just looked down at me with those eyes. Those eyes. And down, down, down I fell. Into a dreamless, empty abyss of deep sleep. When I had woken up, I felt the hair s on my neck stand With the heavy realization that Perhaps the reason why Icar us fell,

the air is heavy with the scent of laundr y deter gent it is sweet and clean and a distinct reminder of those june after noons all those miles away from where we are now i wonder now how long it has been that i have been missing you

SURFS UP

ELLIE FLOWERS

FL UCTUATIONS

We hope you e njoy our newes t edi tion of C alliope , Chasing the Light, a s much a s we did cr eating i t . A s G le nbr ook Sou t h ’ s li te r ar y and visual ar t s maga zine , we showca se a var iet y of poet r y, shor t

and we s t r ive to pr ese nt their incr edible ar t to our communi t y.

S TA FF EDI TORS

EDITORS-IN-CHIEF

Nicole Sur cel

Sar ah K im

Ya smee n R afee (2020)

PUBL IC REL AT IONS DIREC TOR

A lex Szmyd

PHOTOGRAPHY

Audr ey Hage r

A lex Yunda- R aije r

Er in Ak gun (2020)

POETRY

Mar cel Hoang

J ose phine Mo

A nne R ibor d y

Chaeyeon Par k (2020)

PROSE

Nz ah Tajuddin

Ru t h T homa s

Mia Me r chant (2020)

VISUAL ARTS

Emily Cho

O m Patel

K at he r ine Schur e r (2020)

ADVISOR

Mr. John Allen

M r s . A mie Elliot t

Z ain A k bar

Olivia G e r ns

Ve r onik a G liwa

Emilee G r uszec zk i

Ava Hage r

R handa Halawah

Dais y Han

Robe r t Har t sig

Olivia K im

Sydney K im

A nu K he r le n

R achel Kunkel

J ack ie Maciusze k

Mia Me r chant

Elle Mile k

Sal Mona s te r o

M eghan Noe

K ate Os t r ows k i

Ste phanie Pi t te r man

A li Seed

L aur e n S haw

Emma S now

Tee r ada T hia

Noah Walch

G abi War r e n

Emily Yunda- R aije r

Lucia Zde nahlik

A special t hank you goes ou t to our se nior edi tor s and s t af f me mbe r s w ho gr aduated in J une 2020 C allio pe would not be w he r e i t is today wi t hou t t heir har d wor k : we t hank t he m so much for t he br eat ht a k ing t ale nt and tir eless devotion they have brought to our club over the pa s t four year s !