The Gazebo 24-25

GAZEBO

2024-2025

GAZEBO STAFF STUDENT OFFICERS Brendan DeStefano ‘26

Editorial Director

Evan Rivera ‘27

Content Director

FACULTY MODERATOR Mr. John Mills '12

TABLE OF CONTENTS Page 1

Brendan DeStefano

Little Ones

Page 2

Evan Rivera

Breathe

Page 2

Ethan Winters

Discarded

Page 3

Brayden Perry

The Road

Page 4

Cameron Stimmler

Page 4

Will Smith

Page 5

Matthew Myers

Freedom Calls

Page 6

Joseph Turchi

Shadow of Serenity

Page 6

Anonymous

Page 7

Jude Hvorecky

Page 8

Aidan Pagan

Borrowed Time

Page 8

Joseph Siwy

Simple Life

Page 9

Brendan DeStefano

Duty Calls

Page 10

Johnny Jadach

Locked In

Page 10

Jack Wainwright

Empty Place

Page 11

Adam Glista

Little Thrill

Page 12

Anonymous

Here and There

Page 12

Henry Baniewicz

Page 13

Anonymous

Page 14

Gunnar Helstrom

Out of Nothing

Page 14

Lucas Ferriola

Not Knowing

Page 15

Ronnie Raby

Slow Steps

Page 16

Antonio Ammaturo

Nightwatch

Page 16

Richie Dunn

Sand

Page 17

Ryan Scheffey

My Self

Page 18

Joseph Nowakowski

Look Down

Page 18

Seamus O’Connell

Conductor

Page 19

Colin O’Curran

Truth

Page 20

Anonymous

Again

Page 20

Cameron Stimmler

Gravity

Page 21

Stephen Duncheskie

Rise

Page 22

Aiden Pagan

Her Eyes

Page 22

Connor Wisniewski

No Matter

Page 23

Aaron Greenberg

So Free

Words We Meant Be

Hope Whispers Boundless Ground

Infinite Cycle Outgrown

Little Ones

We storm the orchard as children, picking apples grown by those before, grabbing as much as our little hands can hold.

We grow ourselves as night falls and ones smaller than we chase us out; We plant new seeds as their laughter fades with the sunrise.

Page 1

Page 2

Breathe

Forever and ever ago, I trusted people and believed that they are good.

I learned the hard way that they aren’t.

I need some time.

Give me a minute.

Give me 3 months.

A circle lost upon the ground, Ridges dulled, no longer round.

Once gripped tight in eager hand, Now abandoned in the sand.

A pale disc scuffed and scarred, Marked by journeys, tossed and marred.

A tiny relic, small and slight, A flash of something once bright white.

Who cast you here, to lie alone, In dirt and dust, so far from home?

A piece of something left behind, A faded trace, a scrap of time.

I need to breathe.

Discarded

The Road

I lace my shoes, though part of me says no, The road still calls, and so I start to run.

Each step feels hard, but still, I let it go, A fight I lose, yet somehow find it fun.

The burn in my legs, the miles that never end, Though every step feels heavy, I’ve grown.

I find peace in the mornings all alone, For running brings me back, my constant friend.

But now I ask, what keeps me on this track?

The wind, the speed, they pull me in once more.

I curse this love, yet always I come back— The road and I are tied forevermore.

Though running breaks me, still, I can’t let go, It’s who I am, the only love I know.

Page 3

Page 4

Words we Meant

The moon hangs low, a pale white glow.

Its light cuts through the world below.

I watch it through my windowpane, a quiet bridge I’ll never know.

It pulls me back to nights we’d share, your laughter fading in the air.

The moon feels close yet far away like words we meant but couldn’t say.

I let my phone take up too much of my life.

Do I need to respond?

Do I need to scroll?

Do I need to know?

Am I missing something?

Be comfortable with silence, with peace, with presence, with yourself.

Be

Freedom Calls

Bright mornings bring a gentle shining light, The sun climbs up to start a brand new day.

I step outside and let my cares take flight, While golden beams keep all my fears at bay.

The birds above sing songs both soft and clear, Their cheerful tunes make every worry small.

I beam and feel my heart grow full of cheer, In nature's arms, I answer freedom's call.

But when dusk turns the skies to purple hue, A sudden change brings darker thoughts to mind.

The joyful dreams now seem a bit untrue, In twilight times, I leave my hope behind.

Yet still a spark remains to light my way, And guides me gently till the new-born day.

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Page 6

Shadow of Serenity

Sunlight reaches its arm across the land.

The moon's silence is disturbed.

Shadows reach infinite distances.

Serenity decays with the corpse of dusk.

Glass.

Cold under my fingertips.

No way out.

No way in.

Breath fogs, disappears. .

Heart heavy.

Too loud in this silence.

Hope whispers, “Maybe, maybe not.”

Be happy, I think, be brave.

The thought tastes hollow.

Smile, I tell myself.

The jar cracks, breaks.

Loneliness settles in the pieces.

Hope Whispers

Boundless Ground

Alone, ahead beneath the golden sky Away they race, endure the silent pain.

They chase the prize, their will and strength run high, The final stretch demands their strength to gain.

Embrace the course, allow the world be still; In the race, the stakes could not be higher.

Permit the mind to temper fate with will, Forget regret: commence a world on fire.

The runners strive with passion in their veins As they prepare to race beneath the sun.

Their feet will fly, the track a world of gains, To chase the prize until the day is won.

Behold the path, obscure yet so precise, Aware, alert, beyond the boundless ground.

Unique in stride, elite in sacrifice, But still they strive, embrace the road unbound.

At last, they reach the final line in sight.

Exhaustion fades, replaced by pure delight.

Page 7

Page 8

Borrowed Time

The night was heavy with a silent tune, Beneath the weeping gaze of the moon.

Your hand in mine felt like borrowed time, A fleeting moment, a fragile rhyme.

Now shadows cling where the light once fell, And memory binds me in its spell.

I walk alone through a path unmet.

Take me back to the night we met.

I wish I was young again When school and work and making friends was easier.

But once college is done, I can travel the world To see the sunsets and have a family of my own.

I will travel back home to the place I was born into a simpler life.

Simple Life

Duty Calls

After kisses and hugs and I love yous, lullabies and tuck ins and warm milk, I quietly shut the door.

It’s like the first gasp you take after you stop holding your breath.

It’s like getting a cast taken off after a broken bone.

Release.

I go downstairs and write.

I fall into the pages, words exploding from my hand, my pen.

The light goes on again.

So, I stop.

Duty calls.

Page 9

Page 10

Locked In

People don’t realize They lock themselves in jars every day because they don’t embark on their dreams; because they don’t believe in themselves.

What is a bag of bags?

Something to contain an already empty space? \ Capturing more space with only an outer shell of plastic.

A bag in a bag is an empty place.

Empty Place

Little Thrill

The mint ice cream is green and cold to taste, With chocolate chips that speckle every bite.

It cools me down in summer’s, heat red-faced, A simple joy that feels so fresh and right.

Its flavor’s sharp, a chilly little thrill, The chips add crunch to every creamy spoon, I scoop it up and eat it with a will, A treat that makes me hum a happy tune.

But some don’t like it; say it’s weird to eat.

They hate the mint, call chips a hard mistake.

To them it’s not a flavor that competes; They’d rather have a plain and boring shake.

Still, I love mint chip’s cool and dotted cheer, It’s my delight, and I’ll keep it near.

Page 11

Page 12

Here and There

I find you here and there from the green of the plants to the blue of the sky.

Illuminate our lives wherever we may go, from the heights of mountains to the seas down below.

Trapped in a box, hoping to be set free.

Looking for a way out.

But how?

The infinite cycle continues.

Day by day.

Year by year.

Life wastes away.

Yet it all comes to an abrupt end when the lights go out; when time is up.

Infinite Cycle

Outgrown

I used to love the field, my bat, my glove, The way the game felt right in rain or sun.

But now it seems I’ve lost that burning love, The joy has dimmed, the thrill is not as fun.

The ball once fit so perfect in my hand, Yet now it feels like something I outgrew.

The cheers, the runs, the bases in the sand, A game I loved, but now it's not my view.

I step away, unsure of what comes next, The sport I knew no longer feels like mine.

In my heart I know not what to expect, What time will bring without the baseline.

Some things we leave, though once they felt so right, To find new dreams that lift us to new heights.

Page 13

Page 14

Out of Nothing

Everything is so infinite: It keeps going, no end, no beginning.

How can something exist before everything else?

Something out of nothing.

Nonetheless we are in this classroom, writing on this paper with this pen.

I miss being a kid.

Life has been crazy: lots of time passed.

I wish I could go back and change things. I know I need to keep growing up from here But it’s hard not knowing.

Not Knowing

Slow Steps

The years go by like leaves upon the breeze, They change my face and streak my hair with white.

The days once long now pass with gentle ease, And morning slowly fades into the night.

The hands that once were strong now shake with age, My steps are slow upon the well-worn ground.

The world moves on and turns another page, As memories like whispers drift around.

But though my body bends, my heart stays bright, With love that time can never take away.

The past still shines like stars that glow at night, And guides me gently toward another day.

So let the seasons change and let them fly, For in my heart, youth’s fire will never die.

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Page 16

Nightwatch

The sky dims, leaves fly, and waves crash.

A star flickers, then is gone.

Wind blows, shadows move.

Night watches, quiet and limitless.

Days stack up like textbooks, heavy and never ending.

Assignments slip through my hands Like sand.

On the field, A voice says not enough.

Run. Study.

Stumble.

I long for space to breathe for just a moment.

Sand

My Self

It must be asked: what is it I pursue?

May matter little at mortality; Demands discovery of self anew.

Do I live free from all morality?

All mankind has met existential dread.

Will I fulfill my own true prophecy?

Post conscious breach it stays all in your head; My self may be found through Philosophy.

This is the way I choose to live my life: Control myself and thus remove all doubt.

Through this I pray I may ignore all strife; Possess a strong and stable mind so stout.

My ways were not decided by my heart, For it was all determined from the start.

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Page 18

Look Down

I look for you in the history books; I do not see you there.

I look for you on the news and the weather forecasts; I do not see you there.

It is only when I look down in sorrow that I find you there.

I start, pushing hard off the ground, arms swinging and feet flying, driving myself forward, growing in the pain and the rhythm.

I am the rhythm; I am the conductor.

Conductor

Truth

To find Truth is to travel an arduous path enshrouded in mystery and blanketed by deceit, for its counterpart, the Lie, is commonplace.

We save ourselves or others though Lies because everything we say is laced with with bias, braced words, unspoken curses that claw at our throats.

Everyone’s perception of Reality is s t r e t c h e d, does not appear to others at all, is nothing but a self-evident falsehood spitting harsh, malevolent words on the names of those who cannot fight back, Holding festering grudges even after time itself has forgotten.

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Page 20

Again

Weird fishes swimming up my wall.

Howling through my window, I hear a wolf.

We’re out of strawberries.

Insomnia, sleeplessness, nights spent awake.

It’s happening again: I lie alone, as my mind wanders.

Eyes in everything.

Faces watching locked with mine, pulling me in.

I am not lost, I am drawn close by the gravity of their quiet gaze.

In walls, in rugs, in patterns I am reflected, an empty gaze or something deeper.

Gravity

Page 21

Rise

The whistle blows; the game is underway.

Quick feet move fast across the open field.

With focused minds they fight to make their play, Their hearts set firm, refusing yet to yield.

The clock runs low but still they push and try; Through sweat and pain, they give it all they’ve got.

A final pass, a shot that soars up high.

The crowd explodes: it's in! A perfect shot!

But more than wins or medals shining bright, The fire inside will never fade away.

Though years may pass and dim the stadium’s light, The fight they showed will always find a way.

So play with heart, let effort lead you through, For champions rise when they believe it, too.

Page 22

Her Eyes

I need to hear her say "I've been waiting all night" with orange dancing in her eyes my voice failing hoping to speak when this wood used to creak.

Passion is success; commitment is peace; determination is power; One can never achieve serenity, success, and satisfaction.

No matter how much money, fame, or importance there is always more.

There is never an end to progress for a truly determined mind, There is no peak.

Waiting is wrong.

Passion is success; commitment is peace; determination is power.

No Matter

So Free

We load the car and race to hit the road.

The Jersey Shore is waiting; sun shines bright.

With towels and chairs and all our bags stowed, We chase the waves and let our hearts feel light.

The boardwalk hums with voices; scents that rise: The sweet aroma of ice cream fills the air.

The ocean gleams beneath the sunlit skies, Its steady waves sing softly, pure, and fair.

We dive right in, the water cool and deep, Then dry off fast beneath the burning sky.

At night, the Ferris wheel begins to sweep As laughter echoes, fireworks flashing high.

No place on Earth could ever feel so free, The shore’s a home that always calls to me.

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