SELECTED WRITINGS 2018-2019
The Muse Notre Dame Academy proudly presents "The Muse,"Â NDA's literary magazine. Enter into the minds of some of NDA's finest writers, travel to far away lands, and read mysterious thoughts. It's time to ignite your inner imagination and inspiration. As writers, our goal is to make you feel, to stir emotions within you and to change the world as we know it. We pray we achieve our goal through this year's literary magazine. Thank you for spending some time with us and reading our issue! "The Muse's" Literary Committee and Supervisors would like to thank the writers who submitted to the magazine this year. "The Muse"Â would not be possible without your wonderful works! We hope you continue to make writing a part of your lives and keep inspiring the readers of the world! God Bless! Chief Editors: Lauren Van Gheem (Junior) and Autumn Mayer (Freshman) Faculty Supervisors: Mrs. Carolyn Brown and Mrs. Jean Thillman Unless noted, images provided by Google Images. 1
IN THIS ISSUE I Remember by Anonymous... Page 3 the rain by Rylei Anders... Page 4 Complete. by Olivia Lin... Page 5 Exploration by Amber Gunderson... Page 6 The love for my mom by Melanie Loyo... Page 7 My Idol Sonnet by Charles Rickards... Page 8 The pottery of Human Existence by Avery McClain... Page 9 Lacrosse Sonnet by Connor Willadsen... Page 10 My Love for Ethiopia by Lucy Brada... Page 11 love isn't love by Anna Lippert... Page 12 Wren by Autumn Mayer... Page 13 The Lovely Haunted House by Karen Cendejas... Page 17 Midnight Media by Hailey Swonger... Page 18 tears by Rylei Anders... Page 19 Isolation by Reilly Diederich... Page 20 Ode to Java by Anthony Brunette... Page 21 The Sitter of My Soul by Hannah Vanden Heuvel... Page 22 Go. by Hailey Swonger... Page 23 Ode to EDM by Ethan Beers... Page 24 anxiety by Rylei Anders... Page 25 Mother Earth by Catharina Baeten... Page 26 What is my Fear? by Libby Rickards... Page 28 Unknown by Bridget Charles... Page 29 Artwork created by John Ehlinger... Page 30 Artwork created by Rachel Stover... Page 31 Artwork created by Charlie Sauter... Page 32
I Remember By Anonymous
I remember years ago, In my peaceful old school And my peaceful old life. You were my role model, The person I looked up to. I remember the day in class, When I was on the verge of tears, Because of you. The next day, My tears were all dried up, Wasted on you, A filthy human. That day, You were no longer my role model, Just another person in the world. Just how it should be, But not as I remembered. 3
drip…. drip…. drip…. it was raining outside it started out slowly with just a few drops to splash her face then all at once, it came pouring down.
everyone around her ran for cover but not her she embraced the harsh cold water that poured on her skin she began to spin around letting the rain drench her from head to toe laughing as she realized how crazy she must of looked but she didn’t care she loved the rain it was her one escape from the world she could be totally and utterly herself. eventually it started to thunder and lightning and while she didn’t care her mother didn’t want her to get struck by lightning so, she had to leave her paradise and watch from afar she looked out the window of her bedroom wishing she could escape from the boring life she lead, back into the chaotic adventure of the rain she knew she couldn’t so she let herself drown in the sound of the thunder and rain dreading for the end of the storm.
By Rylei Anders 4
my parents always told me to complete my thought before i start talking
they told me to form complete sentences
By Olivia Lin
if i want to talk to them because they are busy so ever since i was eight i have been talking to people in complete sentences starting with please and ending with thank you but hereâ€™s the thing when i talked to you the other day
all i did was babble you asked to read over my shoulder because you forgot your paper and i couldnâ€™t answer forget complete sentences forget complete thoughts how about a complete word ?
Exploration Water coming underneath like a trap door, The noise catching me off guard. The faint amount of light deceiving Giving the illusion of serenity The boat moves along Slowly Indefinitely I reach my hand out The cold damp wall greets my touch, I am enveloped in darkness By Amber Gunderson
Art by NDA Senior Rachel Stover
The love for my mom By: Melanie Loyo She made me feel safe when I felt so scared She made me happy when I was gloomy Oh, all my life I never thought she cared All my life I never thought she knew me The love she gave was so sweet like honey Oh, Around her arms is where I am safe Her heart was soft just like a bunny when I'm away from her I feel unsafe When I was in the dark she was my light She knows me better than I know myself When she smiles her eyes become so bright She knows me better than she knows herself Sometimes she can be sweet and sour But I still love her at the end of the hour
Art by NDA Senior John Ehlinger
My Idol Sonnet
By Charles Rickards
My idol doesn't need to be celebrated They donâ€™t even need a single fan For when they help, they're not even hated They may be a woman or even a man Their kin-d-ness will linger till they die And they may help everyone that they see They may thrive to find someone, day and night They may help people so they do feel glee There complex-ion may be white or black They may be tall or short, and a very big smile And as a friend, they will never turn their back But their kindness will spread smiles for miles This is a bad sonnet, we can agree But my idol may look like you or me
Art by NDA Senior Charlie Sauter
The pottery of Human Existence We are born from the clay of our motherâ€™s nature. Our bodies made from pure soil of the earth. We chose to destroy this purity through our destruction of nature. Such destruction taints the soul of mankind. We are people of the natural earth. Humans life is connected the nature of pottery. We start as humble clay in the earth, Molded by the natural world around us. By choice we become clay blended with sand. Such clay becomes brittle and weak Humans become tainted by the sands of corruption. The sands make us fragile and ignorant. Like a pot made from sand and clay, We will destroy ourselves in the fires of life. I too have been made of clay. I too see the impure life of civilization, And it goes against the natural beauty of life Masked by greed and corruption of the soul.
Art by NDA Senior John Ehlinger
The sight of nature is the breath of life that enters the clay. The most pure clay that invites the soul of nature into life. I continue, restless, and free.
By: Avery McClain 9
Lacrosse Sonnet Young men run fast on fields of blue and green Warm sun, cool breezes, loud fans, and Gatorade Fighting battles, catching passes, making plays and moves unseen We take the field as the sun starts to fade We run like gazelles - leaping and bounding Friendship and teamwork, long laps and short strides Vict’ry will come, our talent’s astounding Hard work, not all show - this team’s full of pride Parents’ yells strike like thunder and lightning Coach yells the plays; the net stands there waiting This team is so good, maybe it is frightening It’s a goal! It’s us they are hating After the game, oh, the boys are sweaty But for the next game, they are totally ready
By Connor Willadsen
My Love for Ethiopia My love for you will be forever more Your scent stayed in my thoughts for days and days The smell of spices makes my mem’ries soar To where the small and happy me still plays How would I stop from loving you for life I knew I would have to leave you someday I’ll see you even in the afterlife My heart is breaking as I go away I will never forget the looks of you I am so sad to say I have to go I will have to try to not look so blue Each passing day my love for you will grow Until I comeback don’t have too much fun My love for you will never be undone
By Lucy Brada
Art by NDA Senior Charlie Sauter
love isn't love
a rose is not a rose without thorns a bee is not a bee without the sting the sun is not the sun without the heat winter isnâ€™t winter without freezing winds just like love isnâ€™t love
By Anna Lippert without a little pain 12
By Autumn Mayer Evanna Wren was sitting in front of her computer, the sun streaming through the windows of her loft onto her face, when the doorbell rang. She fingered a stand of honey-gold hair, the ends dyed a pink so faded it was impossible to see from a distance, and wondered, Now who could that be? No one I know, she realized when she opened the door. Standing in the hall of her apartment building was a boy who couldn’t possibly have been older than nineteen. He had black hair and honey-brown eyes that widened in surprise as he beheld her. He was right to be surprised. After all, she was wearing blue pajama bottoms depicting polar bears, a Spiderman t-shirt, had one gold and one pinkish-purple eye, and an amethyst stud piercing in her left eyebrow. She raised that eyebrow and asked, “Why’s a boy like you visiting someone like me… and at this hour in the morning?” Evanna had a slight British accent, courtesy of her late mother, and had lived in England until she’d moved to New York a few months before. (She’d tried to enroll in the local college to finish her computer engineering degree but had given up after a week. School was just too expensive.) “What exactly is someone like me?” He’d gotten over his surprise. “A pretty, rich boy lurking around a place he isn’t wanted,” she purred. He was wearing expensive designer jeans and an equally expensive brand-name hoodie. She was about to slam the door in his face, but he reached out a hand to hold it open. 13
“I need your help.” Intriguing. “What’s your name, darling?” “Casidy Downton. And you’re Evanna Wren, the best hacker in the Western hemisphere.” “And the eastern,” she said. “Modest,” Casidy said sarcastically. “Now will you let me in?” Her mind flashed to the mess her apartment currently was. “No.” “Fine. I’ll just have to explain from here.” She crossed her arms, waiting. “My sister, Robyn, is dying of Spinal Muscular Atrophy. There’s a cure, but it’s recent enough that only the doctor that discovered it has access. He won’t help us, no matter how much I offer him. Apparently, it isn’t ‘perfected.’ So I need you to hack into his system for the information. I’ll pay you.” She waited. “As much as you want.” “Then come in, Casidy Downton. Looks like I’m helping you.” Evanna opened the door wide and stepped aside to let him in. He ran an eye over the unpacked boxes and empty take-out containers but said nothing. “Wait here.” She entered her bedroom to change into more presentable clothes. When she came back, Casidy was standing in front of the large desk upon which sat her computer. The small space around the desk was the only clean place in the apartment. Everything was neatly arranged and put away in its proper place. Evanna sat in the desk chair and promptly started asking questions. “What’s the doctor’s name?” “Jackson Grey.” She typed the name into the search bar of her computer. The picture of a handsome, thirty-something man appeared. Jackson Grey, the leading medical researcher at the New York City Memorial Hospital and recent discoverer of a cure for SMA, was born in… Two clicks and she had all the basic information. Born in Brooklyn to a single mother in 1986, Jackson had gotten his high school diploma at fifteen and his doctorate at twenty-three. He was celebrated as the most accomplished doctor and scientist in America, perhaps the world. And he was filthy rich. “I’m bringing up his email. Give me a second…” She got into his security system through his email and brought up his network. Files… There it was: a file marked SMA. She was about to click on it when the system booted her out. “What the…” Evanna tried to get back in, but it wouldn’t let her. “His system is too good. It just kicked me out and now it won’t let me back in because it knows my computer. Unbelievable…”
Casidy crossed his arms. “I thought you were supposed to be the best.” She turned to face him. “I never said I couldn’t do it. I just need another way around. Have you had breakfast?” He looked put-off by the sudden change in topic. “Yes.” “Well, I haven’t. Come on.” She grabbed her wallet and shoved it into her pocket. They were out the door and down the steps of the apartment building a minute later. There was a small internet cafe two corners down. Evanna waved cheerfully to the barista and sat down at one of the computers lining the wall. “Order me the strawberry waffles, please,” she ordered Casidy. “You can add it to the bill for my services.” He rolled his eyes. When he came back, plate of waffles in hand, she was already halfway through hacking into Jackson Grey’s system again. And just like the first time, it kicked her out. “Give me that.” She took the plate from his hand and started eating. “It didn’t work.” “Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Evanna muttered. “Can you try something else?” She moved down a computer and tried again, this time from a different angle. Same result. “Nothing works.” “Looks like Grey’s the only one that can get in. Thanks for trying.” He started to walk away. “Sit your butt down, rich boy. I’m not done yet. I think you gave me an idea.” He sat down next to her and stole a strawberry off her plate. She forgave him silently. He had paid for it, after all. “You said Grey’s the only one with access,” she started. “What’s that got to do with anything?” “All we need is his computer.” “As brilliant as that idea sounds, we can’t just break into his house, Wren.” Evanna decided she liked how he said her name. It sounded… heist-movie-ish. “We won’t have to.” She turned the computer screen towards him. On it was an invitation to a party Jackson Grey was hosting that night. “We get in, find his computer, I download the information onto this,” she said, holding up a flash drive. “And you save your sister.” Jackson Grey’s house was monstrous. As they walked up the marble steps, Evanna couldn’t help looking around in wonder. She’d known this guy was rich, but… No wonder he couldn’t be tempted by money. “Aren’t doctors supposed to be nice? Want to help people?” she asked Casidy. “Not in his case.” She could tell he hated Grey, the man who held the cure for countless but refused to give it away. 15
They made it to the top of the stairs and Evanna flashed their printed-off invitations. The inside of the house was even more magnificent than the outside. A black-andwhite checkerboard floor stretched across the entryway, shined to a high gloss. Tall windows were open to the warm summer wind. Their curtains fluttered colorfully. Evanna had just noticed how the floor reflected the gold of her dress when they were brought up short by their host. “Hello, gorgeous.” He bent to kiss her hand. “I know I didn’t invite you.” Her heart skipped a beat. “But I wish I would have.” He dropped her hand and turned. “Enjoy the party,” Grey said with a wink over his shoulder. They both breathed out sighs of relief. “Come on,” Casidy muttered. They found Grey’s bedroom easily. It was at the end of the abandoned upstairs hall. Evanna pushed open the door, feeling an immense sense of relief when it wasn’t locked. Grey’s laptop was sitting on his desk. She sat down in the desk chair and got to work. It was so easy. None of the added security applied to Grey’s own computer. Two minutes and she had the file open. The information downloaded onto the flash drive without error. She handed it to Casidy. “Everything’s there.” “Thank you.”
TWO DAYS LATER… Someone knocked on Evanna’s apartment door. She walked across a clean apartment to open it. It was Casidy. “Finally come to pay me?” He gave her a look. She rolled her eyes. “I was joking. How is she?” “Well on her way to recovery. And I did come to pay you.” Evanna bit her lip. She’d come to a decision over the last few days and would stick to it. “About that.” She took a deep breath. “Keep the money. It was worth it to save Robyn.” Casidy blinked in surprise. A wide smile came over his face. “How would you feel about a real job?” he asked. A week ago, she wouldn’t have believed her answer. But now… “And maybe the rest of that college education?” He’d grilled her about how she’d gotten so good with computers on their way to Grey’s party. She’d told him that she’d never finished her computer engineering degree and regretted it right after. Now, she was glad. “I think I would like that very much.” 16
The Lovely Haunted House Many are lost in the idea that love is like home But every day it feels more like a haunted house I take one step and a new abnormality is in my way At times I feel alone and scared but at the same time I am overwhelmed by the company of your spirit Your monsters surround me and I feel trapped I cannot seem to find the exit in this never-ending home
By Karen Cendejas
Art by NDA Senior Charlie Sauter
Sitting in the dark of my room Scroll down Feeling the weariness of my body Like this Face in an unintentional scowl Share that My pillow calls for me from across the room Scroll down more Yet I sit here and stare millions of pixels flash across my screen Tormenting my conscience Comment here Iâ€™m so tired Post that 4 AM is here Scroll up Trying to find something you havenâ€™t seen Check that Rethinking all that has occurred.
By Hailey Swonger 18
By Rylei Anders
Silent tears drip down her face She holds back a sob in fear of someone hearing her She closes her eyes to hide the pain they held But she canâ€™t stop the tremble in her movements She pulls up her hood to hide her tear-stained face Puts her earbuds in and turns on her music to full volume And slowly fades away from the world that has destroyed her spirit.
Art by NDA Senior Rachel Stover
Isolation By Reilly Diederich
Cold Thatâ€™s all I can feel. I can hear the screams of the wind blowing at my door to make their appearance Snow surrounding me like a constrictor, Suffocating me Taunting my sanity Days to days Months to months I hear no help I feel no life
Ode to Java
By Anthony Brunette
The smell of coffee that brings my soul joy The warm embrace of its presence heals me I like it plain, no sugar milk or soy I need to start my day with a coffee Coffee is a treat for me to devour It always calms me down and wakes me up A beverage to drink at any hour That is served in a thermos mug or cup Waking up is the worst part of my day Arriving at school brings me misery But with coffee everything is ok Thank you coffee, for being there for me Starbucks, McDonalds, Dunkin, or Konop Without coffee, waking up, I could not
My body is found on the tops of the inland sea, the nurturing water cradles me, tickling the toes on my feet with lily pads and other sea trees.
The Sitter of My Soul
But you, O my soul, are nowhere to be found, gone, concealed, hidden to blind eyes, withheld from premature control, distant, absent.
By Hannah Vanden Heuvel
Though you remain untold, The seaâ€™s gentle waves keep me awake, the pulsing wake makes me brave, to be looking, feeling, growing, closer to you. I dream I will find you in the sea, by the tides that wash over me, or by the nibbling fish below me, or by the humming of dragonflies surrounding me.
Art by NDA Senior Rachel Stover
The inland sea pacifies me, extracts my burdening mass from the confusion, reminds me that I am not just a me, not a name, not an object, not a thing. And too it tells and yells, the need for me to grow, to go, to be all of me, to feel the muck of the bottom of the sea and all of the ways to experience hurting, from bone break to heartache. The sea knows what is best for me, to live and to connect, for me to be ready, to have it all not make sense, for me to be not ready, to feel it all.
But til the surface freezes over, there I will float, in the sea of to be or not to be, til then the water will swaddle me, 22 with hope of someday knowing thee.
Go. By Hailey Swonger Okay I got this It’s just a poem I’ll make it perfectly petite It’ll be viciously ambitious Their eyes will devour its words Whew Just gotta write it Okay In 3..2..1 Go.
Art by NDA Senior John Ehlinger
Ode to Edm Your loud bangs and booms are the engine to my body, Always making me in the mood to move my feet and fist pump. Whether your beat be calm and soothing, or loud and crazy. You always somehow figure to lift my spirit out of the muck of pain. You scrape off the mud and reach out your hand to me. I grab it nearly every time and get raised out of the bog of sadness. No matter the style or hardness of the beat, I'm always in the mood to listen to you no matter the situation I find myself in. People always give you hate. Label you as â€œbadâ€? But I will always love you. Forever sticking by your side, For all eternity, till the day I die.
By Ethan Beers 24
By Rylei Anders sometimes my anxiety gets to me i can’t stop the way my heart burns or the way it races when i start thinking i can’t stop the voices in my head telling me all the possible mistakes I could make raging a war inside my head i can’t stop the ringing in my ears the dull bell that never ends i can’t stop the shaking of my hands accompanied by the way I grab onto my shirt everything seems to speed by i sit in class looking around me and feel the time pass but then i sit there long enough and i get inside my head all the pressure building up inside that all i can hear is this voice i don’t remember when i moved when i said hi to that person time doesn’t exist in my head it ceases to matter all because of this invisible hold that this thing called anxiety has on me 25
Mother Earth By Catharina Baeten Children of one Mother, birthed through soil, salt, and rain Planting roots of different seed, in beautiful, blossoming plains Like flowers we grow, like oceans - expand Sinking feet into the Earth, imprints in golden sand Washed away in time, the waves cradle and crash A series of torture, triumph - splash! Fruitful is the Earth, beaming with grace She is a home, built for the human race Nurturing and wise Growing in beauty as time prevails, her stars amongst the skies Glowing in light of the dark which consumes Summoning a beacon, the allure that is the moon
The reaching branches upon a tree Are her beckoning arms embracing me Her voice a song, sweetness to the soul A soft, calm breeze grazing the mossy knoll The human race growing, flowering, flourishing Pursuing a greater contentment, wealth overflowing Above all she is humble, in her rise of fame Withstanding throws of evil and thrashes of pain A muse of the heavens, her serenity gleams The goddess of plenty, reigning supreme In her we are nourished, spirits aflame Our source of all being, Mother Nature is her name 27
What is my Fear? By Libby Rickards
What is my fear? What could scare me in the dead of night? Is it something that is so drear? Or something that lives in the light? I have a fear of sulks in the shadows, And of what lurks in the dark. I have a fear of the unexpected crows And of a scary shark. I have a fear of loneliness and failure, Of letting those I loved down Of monsters and men who go against nature And of those who build themselves a clay crown But my biggest fear is what happens after I fall Will I be remembered at all? 28
Following trails leading nowhere Intense mist is a clog in the wheels of the mind.
An artist anonymously paints the scene Dragging brushes in greying patterns Making mazes that daze secure thoughts. Like a deer in headlights the human mind twists into a cluttered mess. The end exists but is never found.
By Bridget Charles 29
Artwork by John Ehlinger Family Tree "I was inspired by a previous selfportrait, and consequently, wanted to implement my charcoal skills into a larger scaled picture of my sister...The purpose of this image was to start a collection of portraits for each member of my family and gift them to my parents as a means to fill the absence of time that my siblings spent in college."
Aztec "This image was inspired by my appreciation for complex and orderly design. I used sharpie initially to form a radical pattern and then covered the whole piece in a glaze to accurately depict native-styled craftsmanship. Extensive research was completed in order to analyze and implement certain design structures into this cyclical artwork."
Artwork by Rachel Stover Courtney "My friend, Courtney, asked me to do a painting for her. I realistically painted the picture in oil paints. I spent 107 hours painting this piece and paid close attention to detail in order to make it more realistic."
Caylie "For this assignment we had to layer paper in a way that would create an image, which in this case was my dog. I took the picture of her that I used to make this piece. I put a filter on the photo to section off the shadows in a way that I could trace each separate value out and assign them all a different color of paper. I cut the paper out with scissors and an exacto knife."
Artwork by Charlie Sauter Swiss Sheep "This piece was inspired by a trip to Switzerland that I took with my family. We hiked up the Matterhorn to see the mountain sheep. But it was so warm the sheep would not come down from the snow. So, I decided to draw one instead to finally see one. I used pencil because it allowed me to focus on value."
The Run "I find great intrigue in the workings of the human body. This piece is a product of that intrigue and my fanaticism for running. I have struggled with drawing feet in the past, so I chose this angle of my own foot and calf to challenge myself. I chose pencil because it is my most comfortable medium."