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WINTER 2010 Volume III Number I

Literama Literary Magazine of Saint Peter’s Preparatory School Jersey City, New Jersey

Earth is hearth and home Foundation of creation Grounding the beliefs --William Reynolds, '11


Haiku Contest Winners Water Water is freedom Peaceful yet rough, weak but strong In all nature’s forms Wind Wind is constant change In all directions flowing Lifting the spirits Earth Earth is hearth and home Foundation of creation Grounding the beliefs Fire Fire is the spirit Light guiding within darkness Faith which grows in all

--William Reynolds, ‘11 You look so pretty! I’m fluent in sarcasm Honestly, you do!

--Vincent Brinas, ‘10 The sun gleams brightly Sharing warmth with all worldwide Splendid departure

--Blake Shapskinsky, ‘11


WINTER 2010 Volume III Number I

Literama Literary Magazine of Saint Peter’s Preparatory School Jersey City, New Jersey

Moderators:

Ms. Erin Knittel Ms. Julie Groark

Editors-in-Chief:

Seamus Dwyer, ’11 Matthew Holowienka, ’11 Timothy Manning, ’11

Layout Editor:

Ian Garner, ’11


Cover Art by Peter LiVolsi, ’11 Untitled, photograph, Courtesy of the Artist

Literama L Winter 2010 Volume III, Number 1 Literama is published annually by Saint Peter’s Preparatory School. All rights reserved. Copyright © 2010 by Saint Peter’s Preparatory School. Volume III, Number I of the Saint Peter’s Preparatory School Literama was printed in four-process color CD Graphics, New York, NY. The paper stock of the book is Gloss Text with Booklet binding. The Literama was completed with the Adobe InDesign CS 3 program on three standard Windows PCs in the Student Publications Center. All body copy text is 12pt, by-lines are in JSP Baskerton 12pt, headlines are in Bookman Old Style 30pt, and footer text is written in Baskerville Old Face 12pt. The book was financed entirely by contributions from the school and was delivered in March 2010.


Table of Contents 4

Snow

5

Miss Myrtle’s Guide to Solving a Murder Matthew Holowienka

16

Interrogaciones

Todas Las Mujeres

17

Cinquian

19

Haiku

French 3 Honors Students

22

Haiku

Italian Department

23

The Llama War

28

My Guardian Angel

29

Untitled

29

Haiku

Vincent Brinas

30

Haiku

Anonymous

30

Haiku

Blake Shapskinsky

30

Sarah Palin #2: Haiku

Timothy Manning

31

Untitled

31

We Travel On

Zach Lanning

33

My Home

Isaac Atayero

Literama 2010

William Reynolds

Ms. Aymee Torres Darren Rivera German II Students

Shane McCarthy Sean Sullivan Anonymous

Anonymous

Saint Peter’s Preparatory School


Snow William Reynolds, ‘11 Snow What are you? Neither wet nor dry, Neither large nor small You come in clumps, You come alone Light as a feather, Yet heavy as lead You blanket the land, Yet not the sea Make the land dark But lighter than the sun Snow How you are strange

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Charles Weening, ‘12 4

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Luke Farley, ‘10

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Miss Myrtle’s Guide to Solving a Murder Matthew Holowienka, ‘11 Anxiously biting down on my lip, I walked uneasily down the dim corridor. The walls were covered in some ancient floral wallpaper, which rightfully belonged in retirement homes and grandmothers’ houses. As a matter of fact, the hallway did sort of smell like my grandmother’s house, musty and sterile. To make matters worse, there were no windows and the only light came from a few old-fashioned lamps, placed on identical end tables beside every fifth apartment door. My destination was apartment 1313, which should have been thirteen doors away. Though, I was no stranger to bad luck. The whole thing had started a week earlier, when my school announced its first annual “Career Day.” Against their own will, every student in the sophomore class was forced to follow a member of the community around for a day, in hopes that Literama 2010

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they might actually learn something about that person’s career. Though, we did actually have a choice in deciding our “future goal,” which determined who we would be paired with. I’d always been fascinated with crime dramas and stuff, so I chose law enforcement as my aspiration. That was a mistake. Rather than being paired with some renegade cop who makes his own rules, I somehow got stuck with Miss Elizabeth Cynthia Myrtle, private detective. Stopping solemnly in front of the woman’s door, I brought up my fist and knocked. She had a name plaque, ‘Elizabeth Myrtle, P.I.’ How Cute. Maybe I would learn something from this lady after all. She had been in the business for over fifty years, or so I was told. “Yes?” came a dignified, old voice from the other side. “I’m here from Monroe High,” I said, shifting my weight onto my left foot. Before I could finish speaking, however, the door was pulled open by a tiny old woman of at least eighty. Like the hallway, she herself was very old-fashioned, with tiny silver glasses and a long, navy dress. However, the worst was the tiny feathered hat on her mound of white hair. To be completely honest, she didn’t look at all how a detective should look. “You must be Jeffery. It’s so wonderful to meet you. Do come inside,” she smiled, beckoning me into her door. “You can call me Jeff. Everybody does,” I nodded awkwardly, stepping into the dim apartment, which thankfully wasn’t quite as dim as the corridor. Though, it was pretty darn close. The one-roomed office was like something out of an old movie, with the cluttered desk and various exotic knickknacks scattered about. On the desk, she even had a jeweled magnifying glass, which must’ve been as old as she was. “Sit down, dear,” Miss Myrtle ordered, taking her position behind the desk. “We have very much to do and very little time.” “Um, thank you, ma’am,” I responded, sitting across from her in a vacant armchair that smelled unpleasantly like tobacco. Rather than dropping my backpack on the floor, I clutched it close to my chest. Truthfully, I was afraid I’d disturb the dust on the floorboards if I dropped it. As strange as it sounds, the dust 6

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just seemed to belong there, and had probably been there for years. So, I didn’t feel it was my place to disturb it. “Don’t ever call me ‘ma’am.’ Ma’am is my mother. My name is Miss Myrtle, world-renowned private eye,” the woman snuffed, staring at me from behind her spectacles. “I’m sorry, Miss Myrtle. So, are we going to stop any robberies? Solve any crimes?” “Heavens, no! You don’t know a thing about this trade, and therefore, I intend to teach you from the very beginning!” “Oh, okay,” I nodded meekly. For such a tiny woman, she did indeed have a very commanding presence. “I suggest you take some notes,” the Detective stood up, moving for the window and stroking her chin. I shrugged and pulled a marble notebook and pen from my bag. Blushing, I quickly flipped to a blank page, hoping Miss Myrtle wouldn’t notice the rather ‘inappropriate’ drawings I had doodled on the cover. “Now, listen well, Jeffery. I’m going to teach you how to solve a murder. First, a detective’s attire is very important. If you are a gentleman, a pipe and silly hat are appropriate. However, they are not at all becoming to a lady,” the elderly woman said, beginning to pace. “Pipe and silly hat,” I nodded, scribbling down some notes simply to please her. Frankly, I really thought she was an old loon. “Now, Sherlock Holmes was the master of the silly hat and pipe. He had quite a crush on me back in the day. So did Poirot, but that’s another story,” Miss Myrtle chuckled to herself, as if reminiscing. “Oh, I can imagine,” I smiled cheekily, trying my very best to avoid snickering. “Anyway, let’s move on. Now, for your tools, you need only two things. The first is a magnifying glass. It’s very useful for finding fingerprints on brandy glasses and the like. The second is a notebook. You wouldn’t want to have the whole thing figured out and then forget it, now would you?” “No. I hate it when that happens, but…you mean you Literama 2010

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don’t use a gun or anything, like in those TV shows?” I asked. “Never! A detective only needs his wits and a clever mind to get out of danger. Why, I remember back in 1940, a certain Mrs. Peacock was chasing me with a candlestick and I pulled out just fine. Now, you must know one thing. English mansions, trains, boats, and Scottish castles are just begging for a murder to happen. They lure in killers like a spider with flies,” Miss Myrtle said matter-of-factly. “I’ll be sure to keep away from those.” “Why? I live for those places. Those are where all the action is.” “I see,” I raised an eyebrow at her, suddenly struck with the idea that the whole thing might just be a huge practical joke. She couldn’t be serious. “Now, the same sorts of people are always involved in these things. Just remember, the Colonel is never guilty.” “The Colonel?” I scrawled another note in my pad. “There’s always a Colonel, but he’s usually much too chicken to actually kill anyone. He’s never much harm, just excessively proud and excessively stupid. Next, there’s always a young, blonde thing who’s usually only looking to steal the victim’s money. Next, there’s the maid and the butler, who may or may not be married, depending on their preferences. And finally, comes the rich old widow.” “Right,” I nodded vaguely. “Next, you begin your investigation, young sleuth. First, you must decide if the brandy was poisoned, which it most likely was. This is where your magnifying glass comes in handy, because the blonde thing always leaves a fingerprint on the brandy glass. Anyway, you must interrogate her, but she’ll try to seduce you and you won’t learn a thing.” “Have young blonde things tried to seduce you in the past?” I asked with fake innocence. “As a matter of fact, they have,” Miss Myrtle narrowed her eyes at me. “Because they never tell you a thing, you must rely on finding clues! Clues are the most vital part of solving the case. However, beware of red herrings.” 8

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“Oh, don’t worry. I hate seafood.” “Don’t get smart with me, young man. If you know where to look, you’ll always find the proper clues. Whether it’s a string of pearls, or a discarded hankie, the killer is required to leave something behind at the crime scene. It’s the law.” “I see,” I nodded. I was actually becoming quite interested in the whole thing. “Furthermore, every single suspect has the motive, but, who had the opportunity? I’ll tell you who,” the old woman said victoriously. “Who?” “The butler.” “The butler? Why? I thought it would be the rich widow. Or the blond thing. Or the maid, but not the Colonel. The Colonel never does it,” I grinned. “That may be, but the butler always does it. He gets tired of taking orders, and bam! Kills his employer! That’s the number one rule, and if you cannot remember anything else, never forget that.” “Yes, ma’am,” I nodded. “What did I tell you about calling me that?” “Yes, Miss Myrtle.” “Very well. Go off and solve your first crime,” she shooed me with her hand. “I have work to do.” “Um, thank you?” I awkwardly stood up and moved for the door. “Oh, Jeff. Take this. You’ll need it,” she smiled, tossing me her jeweled magnifying glass from her desk. “For the fingerprints on the brandy glass?” I asked, catching it. “Precisely. Now, good day.” I thanked her again before creeping out to the hall and gently closing the door. Staring at the magnifying glass in my hand, I wondered about what exactly had just happened. Those had been the oddest fifteen minutes of my young life. And if you want to know the truth, I think Agatha Christie’s to blame. Literama 2010

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Daniel Kosciusko, ‘11 I didn’t think about Miss Myrtle again until the following week. As far as I was concerned, she was just some crazy old bird. Crazy might be an understatement, but I guess she didn’t mean any harm by her lecture on solving murders. In fact, her magnifying glass had been in my book bag since the day I met her. The main reason was that if my parents saw it, they’d make me return it, and I didn’t want to go back to that spooky apartment. Still, it was Miss Myrtle’s fault that I failed my ‘Career Day’ report. My lovely English teacher, Mrs. Fink, insisted that we all write a five paragraph essay on what we learned from our partner. So, I thought it’d be funny to hand in a report on exactly what Miss Myrtle had taught me, all about fingerprints on brandy glasses and seductive blonde women. However, Mrs. Fink didn’t find it amusing and decided to give me a speech on how “lying isn’t mature for my age” and how “I should care more about my schoolwork.” The usual stuff. But when I calmly explained that I wasn’t necessarily lying and that Mrs. Myrtle really did tell me all those things, she gave me detention for “back talking” and “disruptive behavior.” I’ll never understand teachers. Furthermore, Mrs. Fink always insisted on wearing gloves to school, so she wouldn’t get any of our “germs.” She and Miss Myrtle would’ve been bosom buddies, I tell you. Old loons of a feather stick together. Anyway, the way detention at Monroe High works is that everyone who’s “a burden on society” stays at school until seven o’ 10 Saint Peter’s Preparatory School


clock at night, cleaning the classrooms, while the principal sits in his office and pretends to do his job. That particular Friday, there were six delinquents, including me. The first was Darryl Hepburn, a sophomore like me. He was a huge, hulking kid with a buzz cut and a big head. I only mention his big head, because, frankly, he had one in both the literal and figurative senses. He liked to stomp around on his big feet and brag about how brave, strong, smart, athletic, and handsome he was. Furthermore, he enjoyed referring to himself in third-person. He got detention when he hit some kid pointed out all the flaws in his story about “meeting the Queen of England herself.” That unfortunate kid was me, and I have the bruise to prove it. The second delinquent was Rhonda Liang, a senior. I didn’t know much about her, except for the fact that she was filthy rich. I heard that she had tried to bribe her way out of failing Mrs. Fink’s AP English class, and I think we all know how that ended. The third criminal was Pepper, a freshman. She never told anybody her last name, and I still wonder if she even had one in the first place. Overall, I guess she was kind of pretty, if you’re into miniskirts and fake hair. I kind of felt bad for her, mainly because she had let herself become Darryl’s trophy girlfriend. From a reliable source, I heard she got detention for trying to give Mrs. Fink tips on “getting that hair off her upper lip.” And once again, we all know how that ended. Fourth was Alan Lear, the poor pushover. He was the type of person who always says “I’m sorry” when he didn’t actually do anything wrong, and he was easy prey for people like Darryl. If you told Alan Lear to jump, he’d say “How high?” According to my sources, the always lovely Mrs. Fink had given him a detention for showing up late to her class. The kid was probably stuck in a locker or something, but Mrs. Fink chooses to ignore those types of things.

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Marcel Rudin, ‘12 Finally, there was Annie Rayburn, another sophomore. A tiny, pale wisp of a person, Annie was often forgotten. Though, I must admit, she was probably the nicest person you could ever hope to meet. She’d tried to rescue a frog from the Biology Lab, and well, the thing escaped from her backpack during ol’ Mrs. Fink’s English class. The frog did manage to flee through a window, but Annie was left to face the wrath of Finkie alone. Now, I’ll start from the very beginning. I was sweeping the floor, while Annie viciously scrubbed Mrs. Fink’s blackboard. It was raining outside that night, and a sudden flash of lightning caused Pepper to scream. “It’s only lightning. Now, could you please do something?” Annie frowned, dipping her sponge back into her bucket of grimy, brown water. “I am doing something. See?” Pepper said, spraying some air freshener out of a nearby can. And with that, she went back to whispering and giggling with her darling Darryl. “I think that’s enough, Annie,” I said, pulling off my base12

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ball cap and scratching my head. “I like things clean,” she smiled at me, going back to scrub some more. To spite her, Pepper strolled over and began making chalky fingerprints all over the board. “Hey, kids,” Rhonda said suddenly, poking around a table in the back of the room. “You’d better come over here.” She always referred to us as ‘kids,” because Rhonda, of course, was blessed with the privilege of being conceived first. “What is it?” Darryl stood up. “See a spider? Darryl will kill it for you.” “Stop being a moron,” Rhonda rolled her eyes. “It’s the fish. I think it’s dead.” She poked the round fishbowl, which housed Mrs. Fink’s prized Goldfish, Huckleberry Finn. “Dead?” Annie asked, walking over to examine the bowl. Being an animal expert, she bent over and literally pressed her nose against the glass. “Gross. I hate dead things,” Pepper squealed with an exaggerated gagging motion. “Well, is it dead?” I asked, putting down my broom. “Yeah. My scientific analysis proves that this thing is indeed dead,” Annie nodded at me. The fish was floating upside down and not moving, but I decided not to ruin her thunder. Let her have her moment. “Just great. She’s going think one of us did it, and we’ll get detention again. I don’t know about you all, but I’m not spending another Friday with the Breakfast Club,” Rhonda sighed, clasping her ringed fingers together. “It probably just died on its own,” Alan said, seeming to materialize out of thin air. “Fish only live for a few weeks anyway.” “I don’t think so…The cap’s off the fish food,” I said, picking up the container. Nearby was the cap itself, still half full with blue cleaning fluid. As crazy as it sounds, somebody had poisoned this fish. “So?” Pepper asked. “Somebody poisoned this fish,” I said, trying to sound as dark and mysterious as possible. Running for my book bag, I pulled out Miss Myrtle’s magnifying glass. Maybe it would come Literama 2010

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in handy after all “What are you doing, weirdo?” Pepper spat, giggling. That made Darryl giggle, who made Rhonda giggle, which made Annie giggle. Then, Alan giggled because everyone else was giggling. “Investigating,” I said, picking up the fish food bottle and thoroughly examining it. “I’m going to find out which one of you did this.” “Why would any of us kill a fish?” Darryl asked. “Besides, I’d do it the old fashioned way, with my bare hands.” Can you believe it? He was bragging about murdering a Goldfish. “Well, Mrs. Fink gave us all detention. Wouldn’t this be the perfect way to get back at her?” I asked. “Aha!” I was really doing a good job of putting on a show, and having a grand time while doing it. “What?” Annie asked, surprised by my sudden outburst. “A fingerprint,” I exclaimed, running for the blackboard like they do in those old movies. “And it belongs to none other than Miss Pepper…Pepper…whatever her last name is,” I pointed at the various prints she had left on the chalkboard. “Oh, come on, Jeff. You don’t actually think I did this, do you?” she ran over, grabbing me by the shirt. She giggled, pulling off my hat, running a hand through my hair, and batting her eyelashes. She was actually trying to seduce me, except she was a young brunette thing and not a young blonde thing. I was rather enjoying it, mostly because Darryl’s face had contorted into an odd mixture of anger and jealousy. “Can you prove you didn’t do it?” I asked sternly. “Yes! It’s my job to feet poor little Huck, so it’s only natural my prints be on his food. And me and Darryl were together the whole time, isn’t that right, honey bunch?” “You did leave for a few seconds…” Darryl backed away. “I didn’t do anything. I’m innocent!” Pepper angrily sat down and pouted for a good four minutes. “Well, Darryl and Pepper wouldn’t have the guts to kill anything anyway,” Annie said. “And besides, Jeff. You saw me cleaning the board. That means I didn’t do it.” “Right, so I guess that leaves Rhonda and Alan,” I scratched 14

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my chin real spectacularly, like ol’ Sherlock himself. “I didn’t do it,” Rhonda jumped up. “You found the body,” Darryl challenged. “She did it! See? Darryl cracked the case! Hah!” “Oh, shut up,” Rhonda slapped him in the shoulder. “She’s innocent,” I said. “How do you know, Sherlock?” Pepper was still pouting. “Because she’s not wearing gloves.” “What does that mean?” Pepper tossed an eraser at my head. “The only fingerprints on the fish food can were yours, Pepper. Mrs. Fink wears gloves, so she wouldn’t leave any, right?” “Right,” everyone nodded in unison. “Now, wouldn’t the fish killer leave fingerprints too? There were none.” “Yeah, so?” Pepper raised an eyebrow at me. “So, the killer was wearing gloves,” Annie smiled. I wish she hadn’t stolen my thunder, but I digress. “Why would Mrs. Fink kill her fish?” Rhonda frowned. “She wouldn’t. It was…” I extended a hand and pointed at Alan, who was already stashing his yellow rubber cleaning gloves in the wastebasket. “I’m sorry…I…I was tired of everyone pushing me around, especially Mrs. Fink. She’d never listen…ever. I just…” Alan stammered. “It’s okay, Alan. We all would’ve done the same thing, given the chance,” Rhonda sighed. “Now, who wants to head down to the pet store and pick up a replacement? I’ve got a hundred bucks here somewhere, and an extra ten for whoever does my English homework.” No wonder she was failing. Anyway, in the end, I guess Miss Myrtle did teach me one thing. Nothing’s ever as complicated as it seems, even murder mysteries. And since then, I’ve learned that there is always a butler, young blond thing, colonel, maid, and old widow. They’ve just changed their titles to fit the twenty-first century. Literama 2010

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Interrogaciones Ms. Aymee Torres (La Habana, 1984) Muchas veces el hombre se equivoca, Cae, muere, ahoga estrellas. Otras tantas el hombre se levanta, Ríe, brilla, siembra rosas. Pero existen momentos como ahora En que el hombre no sabe qué hacer. Si morir o ser flor, Si brillar o apagarse. Es entonces cuando un corazón lo define todo. (Havana, 1984) Many times the man makes mistakes, Falls down, dies, strokes stars. Other times the man rises up, Laughs, shines, grows roses. But there are times like now, When the man does not know what to do. Whether to die or to grow like a flower, Whether to shine or to be off. That is the time when a heart defines everything.

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Todas Las Mujeres Darren Rivera, ‘10

En los años treinta, todas las mujeres estuvieron viviendo en condicíones horribles. Aunque ellos tenían derechos civiles, sus espíritus permanecian en cautivo. El mundo de los Estados Unidos estaba centrado en el varón. 16 Saint Peter’s Preparatory School


Para todas las mujeres, era una falta de respecto. Las mujeres consequían el empleo, porque les pagaban menos. Los hombres sentían la necesidad de ser machistas, así que intentaron oprimir a las mujeres. Aunque los hombres intentaban prevalecer, las mujeres prevalecieron. Around the thirties, All of the women were living in bad conditions. Although they had civil liberties, Their spirits remained in captivity. For all of the women, There was a lack of respect. The women received employment, Because they could be paid less. The world was centered around men, So the women were oppressed. Although the men intended for women to fail, The women prevailed.

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Cinquain

German 2 Students Herzen hearts frostig, feuerrrot frost, blazing red zerrütten, pulsieren, verzehren shatter, pulse, burn up lodernde Morgendämmerung, blazing dawn, freezing dusk gefrierende Abenddämmerung paths Bahnen --Franz Campomanes, ‘11

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Wolkenkratzer schön, gross steigen, inspirieren, fallen die Geschichte von New York ewig --Sean Ryan, ‘11

skyscraper beautiful, big climb, inspire, fall the story of New York eternal

Badewanne bathtub nass, lustig wet, fun spielen, baden, schwimmen play, bathe, swim Spiele mit meiner Gummitente play with my rubber ducky Schaumbad bubble bath --Stephen Hart, ‘11 Wecker laut, früh ärgern, aufwachen, vorbereiten kaputt auf meinem Boden Hassen --Alex Kennedy, ‘11

alarm clock loud, early annoy, wake up, prepare broken on my floor hatred

Transformers mächtig, metallisch umwandeln, kämpfen, bauen Autobots müssen Decepticons besiegen Roboter --Alex Chowdhury, ‘11

Transformers powerful, metallic transform, fight, build Autobots must defeat Decepticons robots

Schlaf bequem, friedlich träumen, schlafwandeln, schnarchen Wache mich nicht auf! Zzzzzzz --Eric Jablonski, ‘11

sleep comfortable, peaceful dream, sleepwalk, snore Don’t wake me up! Zzzzzzz

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Haiku French 3 Honors Students Je suis solitaire Dans la nature des montagnes La vie est très verte. I am lonely In the mountains of nature Life is very green. --William Cretinon, ‘10 J'ai froid, j'ai très froid. Si je ne trouve pas des gants, Mes doigts vont mourir. I'm cold, I'm very cold. So if I don't find some gloves, My fingers will die. --Zachary Helming, ‘10 Je déteste ma vie. Ma femme est blonde et belle, mais Je suis aveugle. I hate my life. My wife is blond and beautiful, But I am blind. --Matthew Mazzari, ‘10 J'ai mangé gateau. Le grand gateau est bon. Je suis très gave. Literama 2010

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I ate cake. The big cake is good. I am very tired. --Ian Dingcong, ‘10 Saint Pierre Prep est bon. Sans Prep ma vie serait triste. J'y suis très heureux. St. Peter's Prep is good. Without Prep, my life would be sad. I am very happy here. --Kenan Moriarty, ‘10 Le soleil jaune brille. La lumière d'or me réchauffe. Tout va bien encore.

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The yellow sun shines. The golden sun warms me. All is well again. --Justin Barry, ‘10

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Alex Richardson, ‘12

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Le jour arrive bientôt. Le sommeil reste à mes yeux. Vendredi enfin. The day will soon break. Sleep remains in my eyes. It's Friday at last. --Mr. Frank Giordano 21


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Haiku

Italian Department L’Italia Il mondo grande, Musica, Arte, corrotto e avido, la Lingua che Canta e ancora bello mi fa Amare. Italy Music, Art, the Language that Sings, all I Love. --Ms. Rosalie Romano

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The great big world, corrupt and greedy, but still beautiful. --Thomas Tulp, ‘10

Peter Dougherty, ‘10 Saint Peter’s Preparatory School


Marcel Rudin, '12

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The Llama War

Shane McCarthy, ‘13 “What the Flacknard!?” Hades screamed at the top of his lungs. “Another stinkin’ Murder Llama!!? What the Fleng is going on here?” It had been a long day for the young sorcerer. Having specialized in the school of magic known as Conjuration, Hades had the ability to summon and control creatures known as Incara, which resided in a mysterious dimension known as the Lonos Zone. However, he seemed to have trouble pulling his intended Incara out of its realm and into his own. For the whole day, he had been trying and trying to summon a Lava Ogre, but it alLiterama 2010 23


ways came back to the Murder Llama, a large neon purple half human llama with 6-inch razor sharp claws and an urge to kill the next Incara it saw. Hades, an initiate conjurer, was trying as hard as he could to summon anything that was not llama shaped, but he never succeeded. “How am I ever going to beat Aneja with this?” he said to no one in particular, unless you counted the Murder Llama. Aneja was the most popular kid in Hael High School, which she and Hades attended. She was captain of the dueling team, class president, and Hades’ rival. Aneja was also Hades’ scheduled dueling partner for the finals in the Final Exams Tournament, the tournament at the end of every year to decide the school’s valedictorian. The sooner you lost in this tournament, the lower you were in the grade book; you might even be held back. “How am I supposed to beat her if I can’t summon anything but stupid Llamas?!” Hades yelled. He had gotten lucky in the last few rounds of the tournament, but the totally undefeated Aneja was the best duelist in the school. “It’s hopeless,” he said, “I can’t beat her. I’m cursed to summon nothing but Llamas for the rest of my life.” He decided to just go to sleep, get to the tournament, and get the humiliation over with. The next day at the tournament, Hades trudged up to the registrar and gave his name and position. “What Incara will you be summoning today?” the registrar asked. “I’ll be trying to summon Snowmen and Howlers and Helephants…” “Oh my!” the registrar cut in, smiling. “I wasn’t finished,” Hades said, grimacing. “Even though I’ll try to summon them…As usual, I’ll end up summoning Murder Llamas.” “Okay then, but, Hades…” “Yeah?” “Try something different this time.” “Okay,” Hades left the registrar with a strange feel24

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ing. As Hades prepared for his duel, he pondered on what the registrar had said. Try something new, what could that mean? Maybe it’s about my summoning methods. What if I try to summon something else? These and several other questions zoomed around in his head, until the surprisingly large doors to the dueling ground opened, and he walked slowly through. The dueling ground was a large circle, surrounded by several other circles, engraved with many different kinds of magical symbols, where the duelists would stand. Within the large circle was a pentacle where the Incara would be summoned to battle. Duels were usually the best of five rounds; if you won three, you won the duel. Hades walked to his circle as Aneja walked to her circle with an air of superiority (the stuck-up hag). She sneered at Hades when she reached it. You wouldn’t be able to tell if she was sneering if she didn’t wear all that black makeup, Hades remarked mentally. They prepared their symbols for their summoning. Hades put in more Murder Llamas then he normally would, following the registrar’s advice. I think I know what to do, he thought. I’ve always tried to summon anything but Murder Llamas and then that’s what always comes out of the Lonos Zone, so, what would happen if I tried to summon a Murder Llama instead? Maybe something weird would happen, maybe something else would come. The duel began the same as any other duel did; with seriously insulting banter until the referees arrived. When they did arrive, they went through the routine: don’t get caught cheating, don’t insult your opponent, etcetera, etcetera…. Then the actual duel began. Hades began by trying to summon a Sun Bird, just in case he actually would manage to summon it, and Aneja started with a Thunder Snake. Hades summoned a Llama; Aneja summoned her Snake. The Incara battled, and the Llama got a good hit in, but Literama 2010

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Aneja still won. Oh well, Hades thought, it was worth a try. I might as well be trying to summon what I actually summon. He then began the summoning process for a Murder Llama, while Aneja started for a Scarlet Screamer. Okay, here we go. Hades’ summoning portal opened, and out came a … Lava Ogre! Where the Menk did that come from!? I didn’t summon that! Hades looked over at Aneja, to see if she had anything to do with it. She looked as surprised as he was. Well, when life gives you Ogres, battle like Giants, as the saying goes. Or was that something else? Oh well. The Ogre got in a good hit on the back of its opponent’s head, but the Screamer still managed to win. Okay, if I lose this one I lose the duel, Hades thought as he began the summoning for another Llama.

Mike Yager, ‘10 When he opened the portal, what came out wasn’t a Llama or an Ogre, but a Howler, like a banshee with six or seven blades on her person. Aneja summoned a Rage Scarab. The Howler actually managed to get a knife in the big bug’s jugular vein. Hades still had a chance to win this. The next round, Hades tried his new “Llama Technique” and managed to summon a Demon Snowman. Aneja’s Light26

Saint Peter’s Preparatory School


ning Bat didn’t stand a chance. Okay, it’s the final round. I have to win this to win the tournament. Hades started the Llama summoning one more time. Aneja’s portal opened first and out came a Colossus, a 40-feet tall steel robot with celestial bronze armor and a gleaming sword. Oh, I hope something good comes out of the portal this time. Hades’ portal opened and the creature that came out was the one Hades hadn’t even dared to hope for: A Helephant, a sixty-foot tall, two-ton, man-like creature with an elephant’s head, adamantine armor and a scimitar. The battle was fierce and the Helephant was almost at his end, but then, he managed to block the Colossus’s last blow and sink his scimitar through the machine’s neck. A killer blow! At the end of every duel, the winner of the battle was allowed to decide the loser’s fate. The loser might be lowered in the grade book, or be held back for another year. Furthermore, the winner was allowed to be as dramatic as he or she wanted. Aneja had been incredibly cruel to those she had defeated, so Hades felt that it was time for revenge. He gave the thumbs down signal, and the Helephant slammed his scimitar down onto the ground in front of Aneja. A large crevice ripped itself in the earth under her feet, and the ghosts of all those she had defeated dragged her down into the burning river Styx. As she gave her final scream, she burst into a glowing ball of fire. Like those whom she had damned before her, she would be cursed to burn for all eternity while wandering the Horrors of Punishment in the darkest reaches of Tartarus. Hades smiled slightly. He had just defeated his rival, summoned one of the most powerful creatures in Conjuration, and become valedictorian, all in one day! I think I’m probably going to remember this as “The Llama War,” Hades thought. This is the best day ever!

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My Guardian Angel Sean Sullivan, ‘12 Noise is all around us Here, there, everywhere Noise is resounding, oh so astounding From birds and bees, to falling down trees From a little butterfly to the rockets in the sky Noise surrounds us, noise confounds us Noise is all around us Here, there, everywhere

The light of the world shines through one man And he is raised above all by God's true hand To continue his holy plan All other people fell on their knees And gave him their hopes, their dreams, and their pleas Throughout the world, the people all chanted As he sowed the seeds of love that were planted About him there are many a story Telling of his compassion, love, and glory And he was sent down to save us This man's name is Jesus People cry in war People die in war Such a fight, oh what a fright When hatred brews, a battle ensues People suffer and lose their lover No amount of gain is worth all this pain When the world is in chaos There is no one to blame but us

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Untitled

Anonymous You are thanked for your Care Loved for your being Seen as a role model Thank you for seeing Scholar of your trade Human in all ways Words of yours go for many years Thank you for those days The stories you tell Help us see beyond For days you have taught us The story goes on

Daniel Kosciusko, ‘12 Pigeons feast on crumbs Wild child jumps into the flock Scatter for the skies --Vincent Brinas, ‘10 Grooving to that beat Stare at me, I have no shame The song is too good --Vincent Brinas, ‘10 Literama 2010

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The Jersey Shore Crew How much I do love all you Even Snooki too -Anonymous Lone wolf, an outcast Single being in the night Accepted by none --Blake Shapskinsky, ‘11 Sarah Palin #2 Watch out caribou Palin is coming for you She wants to make stew --Timothy Manning, '11

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Kevin Li,‘12 Saint Peter’s Preparatory School


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Anonymous Giving what seems to be more than you should Remembering to teach better than others would Open to opinions and new suggestions Always making memories and lasting impressions Likely to encourage and push for the best results Incredibly calm in spite of and despite any insults Ever trying to find the best in me Respectful and caring and kind as can be Knowing the right words to say to ease the pain and hurt Just an occupation to most, you consider it a lifetime’s work Understand I do, but I don’t really get you But on the other hand, I never will forget you

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We Travel On

Zach Lanning, ‘10 Our feet, they trample this broken ground Along the road we do not make a sound All around us it is dead and dark No songs are sung by the meadowlark The days are long and the nights are cold But we travel on down the road, We travel on down the road, We travel on… Our destination is not in sight And the days are just as dark as night No hope, it seems, for us this day But we travel on and make our way, Searching for the hope that may not come But we travel on down the road, We travel on down the road, We travel on… Literama 2010

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Will someday there be goodness on the Earth? Will someday we know happiness and mirth? Will someday we remember What is wrong and what is right? Will someday the sun be stronger than the night? I hope so But we travel on down the road We travel on down the road We travel on…

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Daniel Kosciusko, ‘12 Saint Peter’s Preparatory School


My Home Isaac Atayero, ‘13 Every now and then I face terrible winds But there is this great mountain That comes and overshadows my fate She covers me from pain and heartache But my home remains My power, my treasure, my fate I cannot think of a substitute I cannot imagine anywhere as good Some say it is a sickly addiction Home is a refuge both day and night My tower, my pleasure, my estate This home is my home Her scents like the freshest valleys That flow from the streams of time Could they even remake her warmth Her beauty, her camaraderie Her delicacy, her uniqueness? My flower, my gift from the creator Robert Frost said “NOTHING STAYS GOLD” But when power changes And life plays games on me My home remains My power, my pleasure, my gift from the loving creator

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Winter 2010  

Earth is hearth and home Foundation of creation Grounding the beliefs --William Reynolds, '11 Literary Magazine of Saint Peter’s Preparatory...

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