Tempest 2016 by Mrs. Davis

Letter From the Editor Dear Readers, Readers, let me tell you something: this magazine is really, really good. I’ve worked on the Tempest for three years, and I’ve never seen anything like it. We received hundreds of paintings, poems, short stories, drawings, and photographs throughout the making of the magazine, and I’m so proud of what we were able to put out into the world this year as something both artistically engaging and socially conscious. There’s a quote from post Impressionist painter Degas that reads, “Art is not what you see, but what you make others see.”. When we chose the theme of color in our very first meeting in August, the entire staff decided that as an art magazine, we had a responsibility to make our readers see both the beauty of color in our world as well as the rising tensions of race and ethnicity in our communities. Art has a strong responsibility to the community it belongs to, and I think with this year’s Tempest, we honored that responsibility, producing a magazine reflecting the vast expanses of diversity, adversity, and culture that young artists are presented with today. This magazine has been a process that I’m extremely proud to have been a part of in encouraging young artists and writers and exploring both the triumphs and struggles of our lives. The actual producing of the magazine has been an incredibly tedious, rewarding journey. Our sponsors, Mr. and Mrs. Davis, welcomed a tiny little boy into the world this year (!!), which was undoubtedly wonderful. We also had to postpone meetings for several weeks, which was slightly less wonderful, but since we have the best magazine staff in the universe, things worked out in the end. Of course, we have to thank the Davises so much for everything they’ve done this year, especially Mr. Davis, who went from being the magazine’s resident art critic and joke teller to being a serious motivational speaker and leader. Since scheduling was tight, I also am so excited to thank our staff members Alyssa, Ashley, Lijain, and Kylie for volunteering to learn our design program and come in during odd hours to help our layout editor, the beautiful and wonderul Mitra Norowzi, finish the magazine one page at a time. Being on the Tempest has been one of the brightest highlights of my time here at Millbrook, and I wouldn’t have wanted to spend my senior year with any other group. I’m so proud of what we’ve accomplished so far, and I’ll be waiting for next year’s release date starting…now. Your editor-in-chief, Jessica Lane

Cover artist: Alicia Rosario

Table of Contents 3. Sonnet of America- Gabrielle Goodman; Art- Megan Alvey 4. Ring Art- Bianca Buschor; Art- Vinnie Olko 5. Art-Kylie Wylie 6. Angel’s Letter- Tarrell Essex-Simmons; Art-Kylie Wylie 7. Found Poem- Maya Robinson; Art- Elizabeth Trefney 8. Mortal’s Rebuttal- Tarrell Essex-Simmons; Art- Joshua Masters 9. Ghosts and Minds- Alexander Brooks; Art- Sarahlaine Calva 10. Tempest Riddle- Emonya Daniel; Art- Elizabeth Finnessy 11. Opposites Sonnet- Natalia Bartkowiak; Art- Julie Dodson, Madyson Ho 12. Have Some Sense- Kayla White; Art- Edith Galvan 13. Art- Sarahlaine Calva 14. From Me to Her- Gabrielle Goodman 15. Art- Kaylee Saarnen 16. The Same Dream- Kayla White; Art- Ashley Arensdorf 17. Nothing Took Me- Alexander Brooks; Art- Colleen Regan 18. Unfinished People- Natalia Bartkowiak; Art- Abbott Ndukwe 19. Art- Tyler Trudeau 20. Monsters- Alexander Brooks 21. Born Anew- Meagen Wilson; Art- Kirami Bah, Jonese Pipkin 22. New Summer- Tarrell Essex-Simmons; Art- Frances Kim Cover Spread- Sarahlaine Calva 25. Art- Oliva Burnette, Joshua Masters 26. Art- Willow Johal, Elizabeth Trefney 27. Fallout- Meagen Wilson; Art- Joshua Masters 28. Art- Joshua Masters 29. Inevitable Voyage- Maya Robinson; Art- Lauren Mussler 30. Art- Mitra Norowzi, Megan Alvey 31. The Pencil- Sophie Walsh; Art- Megan Alvey 32. Overcast World- Aiden Wells; Art- Megan Alvey 33. Art- Sarahlaine Calva 34. Colorless Life- Kylie Wylie 35. Golden Shovel- Shain Jefferies; Art- Emily Burris 36. Art- Edith Galvan, Emily Burris 37. Art- Tyler Trudeau 38. Alive and Well- Maya Robinson 39. Art- Sarahlaine Calva 40. Art- Sarahlaine Calva, Megan Alvey 41. Art- Christopher Hoffler 42. Art- Alicia Rosario 43. Art- Alicia Rosario 44. Monologue- Elena Rehberg 45. Notes 46. Notes

Megan Alvey

Sonnet of America by Gabrielle Goodman How much do I appreciate this land, The melting pot of red and white and blue? The lady liberty stirs with her hand A mish mosh of a rainbow colored stew. You follow the rules like you know you should. Suit and tie match your personality You have worked harder that you thought you did All that work to please your wondrous country Bills to your chin, pay off your student loans, Yet you must remember those who fought Those whose blood screams guilt all throughout your bones Those who shot people and left them to rot

But evil spreads like a deadly disease. Greed and money will bring you to your knees.

Ring Art by Bianca Buschor I always had paint on my fingers. Yellow on the little one, purple on the big, red on the ring. Flecks of color dotted my nails and you loved to look at them, cradling them in your gaze like fine art. You said that I should paint something, for you. I thought long, staring frustrated at blank canvases, not knowing what would be good enough for you. And then I knew. I held your hand, in mine, and painted your ring finger red, too.

Vinnie Olko

Kylie Wylie 5

Angelâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Letter by Tarrell Essex-Simmons When flesh remains still, and heartbeat is gone I am rebirthed, and my youth is restored, Carved in stone that true essence shall live on And ascend to sky realms as those before To forever dwell in celestials, Only to connect to beings through mind. The prophecy put on a pedestal Godâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s promise that eternity is mine, Should I remain faithful in Earthly form And stand times of trial till judgement is called. Sphere placed between myself and those who will fall, The life philosophy that keeps me sane: Flesh becomes ashes, but spirit remains.

Found Poem by Maya Robinson From “A good Man is hard to find by Flannery O’Connor” Blue Granite, white violets, silver white, Sunlight, Hid themselves behind the trees. Children reading comic magazines, And a good day for sleep. Removing her white cotton gloves, The native sat for twenty minutes. Red clay banks streaked with purple, Crops that made rows, Rows of green lace-work on the ground, She thought it was interesting. Three Days. 55,890 miles. Tennessee has mountains, Georgia has hills And the native had time. The children exchanged comic books, clumps, hid Behind the trees. It was a good day in Tennessee.

Elizabeth Trefney

Mortal’s Rebuttal by Tarrell Essex-Smmons Corpses are buried, and memories fade Ashes consume one more beautiful face Carved in stone and shown on abandoned stage Plain letters and numbers accept your place, To fail one’s life goal of reaching the sky Unable to reach kin and successors Life promised by God if one shall abide Often concludes into something lesser The price of youth’s sin is paid for in death Sky’s word taken light, with time guaranteed To repent for past sins and repay debt Be consecrated and commit new creeds But time slips through cracks, and fears come to life When mind and heart stop, wrongs cant be made right

Joshua Masters

Ghosts and Minds by Alexander Brooks Phantoms of the cursed past dwell in my head. That guarded Heart will become rough and hard. From the abuse, the innocence is dead. Label my heart and it becomes a shard. Fate has given us a cruel deck of cards, Warranted perhaps, for I took some lives. As I stare into the past my soul barreds Itself to forget the losses its seen. Yet I swore to stay with you, forget cost. I will never fear you, nor will allow Your monster to trap you now, to be lost. Our sins will never again make us bow. Power and fear, and to what endless lengths Can we two be measured â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;monstersâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; through strengths?

Sarahlaine Calva

Elizabeth Finnessy

Tempest Riddle by Emonya Daniel A stripped color spectrum Unknown and silent in its consuming yet bright darkness Dancing to the orchestra of midnight Slumbers to the rising of light Is gazed upon by its father Solis and mother Luna Plain as white with no known color of the spectrum Yet itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s as important as the rest Travels the rotating dreams Visiting every darkness with a glow Plays songs of wonder with its siblings And discovers a new dream every constellation 10

Julie Dodson

Opposites Sonnet by Natalia Bartkowiak Her opposite, the sun, a laugh, a smile, A boy, a man, a gorgeous, lovely life. For him to stay a year, a day, a while, Would wash away all essence of her strife.

Madyson Ho

She is the dark moon, he is the light sun. His heart is softest silk and hers is stone. But opposites each need the other one, Both need the other to levels unknown. When together nothing can destroy them. Lovers and opposites, one joyful pair! Much more precious than any sparkling gem. Hopefully life will be gentle and fair.

And these two children, full of devotion, Will never have to fight dark emotions.

Have Some Sense by Kayla White Reminiscing of the things we used to do. You’d push high when I’d rather not. You’d hold my hand as I learned to stand. I’d help you rake leaves atSundown, and you’d laugh at my Brown tinged hands. Like I’d just dug a grave. We’d watch soap operas and Together so did we weep. Early Sunday mornings, you before I, Would wake. “Late as I usually am” Still you cared not, About the words of the judgmental congregation there. Entering the place, she before I, With no shame would say “the lord say come as you are, so I always do” “Judge me as I enter, they shall not”. No slouching, clapping off beat, and a pop if I tried to sleep. Church folk’s eyes would pierce my soul if I Coughed or sneezed too loud. I am A child of god; so “I betta’ Act like I have some sense”.

Edith Galvan

Sarahlaine Calva 13

From Me to Her by Gabrielle Goodman There’s not much in this life, but I Will give you all there is to have. So smart, the apple of wisdom you have eaten, Your lips as if the Winding vines of plums Had graced the lips that Had once graced mine and were, At one point, the comfort I found in Hard times, but now it seems the Keeper of times has turned your heart into an icebox. I know you don’t remember me much and You’ve thrown away the locket which I pictured that you Kept close to your heart when you were Tasting the salt of your tears, and probably You don’t think I’ve been saving One of your favorite meals for When you come back to me for breakfast, And over time I’ve learned to forgive. Even though you don’t remember me As if the faces in your mind, they Seem to blur together, but I keep you as if you were The last ripe apple, delicious Precious and so Undeniably sweet. But when the apple is gone, you’re full and Yet so empty from being abandoned so Suddenly by something so cold.

Kaylee Saarnen

The Same Dream by Kayla White The same dream every night, Revealing that you are what I want. While nothing seems to shine as bright. Your love taunts. Revealing that you are what I want the most. Two souls were never more perfect. Yet, your love taunts. More than emotionally, we do connect. Two souls were never more perfect. When will we have affection to show? More than emotionally, we do connect. When will you ever know? When will we have affection to show? I dream of you holding me so tight. When you ever know; I dream the same dream every night. Ashley Arensdorf

Nothing Took Me by Alexander Brooks

I ain’t nothing but Nobody. I’m not a Nancy or Caddy or Jason. I’m going, I want to go. Let me go, I won’t be long, I’ll go and see If Jesus will come And take Me Home.

But Jesus is gone. He quit me. Good riddance said Jesus. You’ll leave me Alone? Unprotected, Unfortunate? What is it? I can’t hang around, I can’t stop him, He can’t do that, I can’t stop him. I’m through.

Colleen Regan

Unfinished People by Natalia Bartkowiak “In a Station of the Metro”- Ezra Pond When the rainbow arrives, I’ll be here in theWith a flower sitting on my breast and an apparitionIt leans in close and kisses my cheek, lips made ofUnfinished lines, unfinished words, stuck in a loop, theseAbruptly stopped, abruptly undone, all of them gone, these faces… All that remains is a cold slab of stone, with words welcoming in. In this world, so many stories are never even closed with the Truth. So sweet is this little word, so sweet to my life, so clear even in a bustling crowd. It’s never told for those poor old souls, such lives are forgotten petals. Unfinished acts, unfinished goodbyes, so many ring on and on. And tear tracks line the cheeks of the beloved, shiny and wet, For the ending of their stories are unknown, and, like life, are so gray, never white or black. Pieces of a bigger story, lost eternally, protruding miserably, barely adorned, from life’s naked bough.

Abbott Ndukwe

Tyler Trudeau 19

Monsters by Alexander Brooks They always say monsters close in Striking the walls with claws, moaning Frightening children with promises of nightmares Dreams change to fantasy as reality is experienced Striking the walls with claws, moaning In agony they prey to be released Dreams change to fantasy as reality is experienced Killing hope and establishing monotone In agony they prey to be released From their enslavement of debt which Killing hope and establishing monotone Is their purpose From their enslavement of debt which Raging against their masters, blood running Is their purpose Even the strongest fall Raging against their master, blood running They always say monsters close in Even the strongest fall Frightening children with promises of nightmares

Kirami Bah

Born Anew by Meagen Wilson After sun I can stay, Beautiful and radiant is the star. In the dark I will lay Away from cars and tar. After dark I can be free. The light will hide And the moon will lead me Away from my mind with every stride. Born anew, I will rise Graceful with vengeance. There is danger behind my eyes, And in my very essence.

The night is my friend But it is not the end.

Jonese Pipkin

New Summer by Tarrell Essex-Simmons Violence from decades ago echoes into the future. The endless struggles of African Americans Are concealed by those who are too hesitant To protest like Malcolm or Dr. Martin Luther King. Jr., So we remained as the oppressed minority. What is worst today is the internal war Creating a cycle of black deaths and crime: No doubt these are the worst of times. We fight with each other more than ever before And show knowledge of problem, but care for no answer, But oppression and opportunity go hand in hand. Weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve survived several attacks and have become stronger Learn to rise to the occasion, and even conquerThis is all of Godâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s plan we must understand, Brighter futures for our young black women and men.

Frances Kim 22

Sarahlaine Calva

Olivia Burnette

Joshua Masters

Willow Johal

Elizabeth Trefney

Fallout by Maegan Wilson A moonlit night with a star-filled sky, Milky flowers fill a field below. The perfect night and a perfect time, Like a magical story waiting to unfold With star-crossed lovers dreaming of delights, Dancing endlessly through time itself. Fireflies light the way For a path that the heart must walk. Like on a tightrope, it mustnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t fall, For its fallout is a ticking clock.

Joshua Masters

Joshua Masters 28

Inevitable Voyage by Maya Robinson Soon, I will be walking across the stage receiving a diploma, the room filled with navy. Then it will be time for college. The comfortable reds and oranges radiating from friends will turn into unfamiliar blues and greens from strangers. My friends wonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t be a 15 minute drive away with sparks of yellow flaring up in excitement at the thought. Instead theyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll be a Delta flight away with greys of uneasiness thundering inside. Their faces go from crystal clear HD pictures, to muddled, distorted pixels on phone screens. Their voices usually undisturbed except by air, turn fuzzy and faded by the weakening signal of the Skype call. Soon, I will be walking across the stage receiving a diploma in a room filled with navy and venturing out into a world brimming with undiscovered hues.

Lauren Mussler

Mitra Norowzi

Megan Alvey

The Pencil by Sophie Walsh Gliding across a surface I leave; Markings that unfurl across the ocean. A clean white slate sits patiently, And beckons me nearer. I can be smooth or rough, Depending on the pilot. Typically a charcoal gray, But I can be any shade of the rainbow. Pencil, lĂĄpiz, crayon, bleistiftDifferent names in different places. But the solid yellow-orange color. Alike and recognizable all over the world. I sit on the eager studentâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s desk and allow The intangible to become tangible. I can set things in stone, Or easily wash them away. But I am nothing without an initiative, Though almost always present, Where a child will spend many green acres of his life. I am a staff of ability, Determined by the holder.

Megan Alvey 31

Christopher Hoffler

Overcast World by Aiden Wells

Megan Alvey

The neighbors saw it happen. “Kids these days,” Mr. Jones muttered, judging away the troubles of his youth “He was a good kid,” said Mrs. Jones, Half-hungover from her half-book club Where rats scurried between their lips. “We raised him better,” cried the parents, Bullet holes still not healed from her Daddy’s shotgun. “Waste of a life,” the sheriff declared, who witnessed the flight from his nine to five grave site. But Johnny was gone Miles in the air, he couldn’t see his troubles Or care. “I just need some time to unwind,” He sighed, as he began to unravel floating through the clouds. He’s not coming back, I said. He can finally see the sun now Above his overcast world. 32

Sarahlaine Calva 33

Colorless Life by Kylie Wylie Our tired, bloodshot eyes are the color of the red slash marks on our failed tests that we studied hours for. The bright sun outside our window when we open our eyes is the color of the yellow late pass the disapproving teacher hands us because we overslept. The glowing 100 on our friends math test is the color of the green envy we feel in the pits of our stomachs, because they don’t struggle with complex roots and imaginary numbers like we do. The degraded bathroom stalls are the color of our blue tears as our sobs echo on the cement walls because we’re ashamed of our chemistry quiz grade. The deep circles under our eyes are the color of the purple sky outside our windows and one in the morning when we’re still up studying for finals for classes we’re failing. Our world is slowly becoming devoid of color, drained by stress of bad grades that we let define who we are and the deadlines that dictate our lives and time. Our blank minds can’t comprehend the beauty around us, too occupied with mentally calculating equations and trying to memorize vocabulary. We all see in black and white, the division between reality and school just a hazy grey line.

Golden Shovel by Shain Jefferies One day at a time I practice, the game that I love, through sun or fog. I’ll always practice, until that day comes when I can sit back and lean on the chair of retirement, when, frail and little, I’ll spend my days reminiscing with my cat When we were both younger and could run on our feet. Some days I think back to it The way the white ball sits And the way the fans stand looking as I shoot, this time over the fence and into the harbor some people cheer, some boo and others just stand there, like a building in the city Other times I look back on the days where I studied, silent hours of sitting on my haunches deep in thought of how to improve, and some days I’ll go to the gym, then go with my team and practice my moves. That’s what I think of as time passes on. Emily Burris

Edith Galvan

Emily Burris

Tyler Trudeau 37

Alive and Well by Maya Robinson The people scream “Racism is dead”, but, it’s alive and well, festering amongst the people. It goes unaddressed as the elephant in the room. They turn their eyes away from it. But, it’s alive and well and festering amongst the people. Blacks dying in custody, being randomly shot, denied jobs. They turn their eyes away from it, knowing it’s scarier than it was before. Blacks dying in custody, being randomly shot, denied jobs, It’s everywhere isn’t it? It’s scarier than it was before, with easier access to the media. It’s everywhere isn’t it? Riots, speeches and videos becoming accessible with easier access to the media. It’s a curse and a blessing. Riots, Speeches and videos everywhere catching the attention of politicians and other countries. It’s a curse and a blessing because we’ve put the pressure on them. By catching the attention of politicians and other countries people are hearing us, and we’ve put the pressure on them. Now, we have to push them until change appears.

Sarahlaine Calva 39

Sarahlaine Calva

Megan Alvey 40

Christopher Hoffler 41

Alicia Rosario

Monologue by Elena Rehberg It’s the middle of June but it’s a dark day. Clouds are the only thing filling the sky and the air isheavy and humid. A young girl about 16 or 17 is outside at a funeral standing next to the black casket decorated in white flowers. She’s faced towards the weeping faces with her back to the trees as she pulls a wrinkled sheet of paper out of her cardigan pocket and begins to read: YOUNG GIRL: (Talks slowly throughout) Elijah, I never thought this day would come. Well at least not until we were old and irritable with each other. We did so much together. We laughed, we sang, we dance. And to think the universe could take (stops, briefly looks up with tears flowing down the side of her face)- could take someone from me who meant so much.(Pauses, looks up with tears in her eyes. Nods her head and continues.) It’s not right here without you, but looking back on all we did together, I had an amazing three years with you. I remember the first time you were in the hospital. I walked in and you were asleep, but I could see your chest slowly pumping up and down as the oxygen made its way in and out of your lungs. I remember thinking to myself that if it was the last time I saw you breathing, at least you wouldn’t know that I had to see you like that. (Shaking breath as she cries more.) I stayed up that whole night, praying to God that maybe, just maybe, I would wake up and you wouldn’t be sick anymore. That it would all be some horrible nightmare I’d been thrown into, like a clouded gray sky being cleared up by a sunny day. After all- (Stops and half smiles to collect herself.) No one made my world turn so fast and no one made me smile the way you did. Thank you for that. Thank you forthe spontaneous kisses, for the random text messages to make my day, for the one A.M. phone calls to remind me of how much you love me. Thank you for every moment where you made my world a little brighter, because without you, I would’ve never learned what it was like to love. I would’ve never thought that love was even real, or that fairytales really do exist, even if they don’t have that magical ending like we all want. Your love was an eternal gift to me and I know I can’t get you back. I know that. I wish I could with everything in me, but it’s just not how this chaotic universe works. We don’t choose our endings. We may think we do, but no one ever has. So, I’m glad I got to have you for as long as I did. Even though you’re gone for good, I love you so, so much, Elijah Bushwell. (YOUNG GIRL) folds up paper and puts it back in her pocket, returning to her seat in the front row next to his parents)

Notes:

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Notes:

TEMPEST 2016 COLOR +PALETT MILLBROOK HIGH SCHOOL RALEIGH, NC