COVER
BY SOPHIA CHARRON
Contents 4
About The Oracle
6
The City by Lexi Hall
7
Untitled Photo by Alysha Cutri
8
“Two Faced” by Lexi Hall
9
The Clam Before the Storm by E. Stankowski
10
“A Day In the Life of an American Flag” by Jared Kindle Untitled Photograph by Alysha Cutri
12
“Glass Fully Empty” by Coulton Gaitens
13
“Emerald Eyes” by Theresa Skindzier
14
Painting by Theresa Skindzier
15
Lady Midnight by Rosa Dugan
16
Photograph by Allison Berner What If by Madisyn Cypher
17
A Day in the Life of a Window by Logan Kohnfelder
18
Anxiety: A Lament by Joel Skelley
19
Triumph by Allison Berner
The Oracle
The Oracle Oracle is Bishop Canevin High School’s Literary Magazine. It is a showcase for Bishop Canevin student writers and artists. Each year, Oracle publishes two volumes of poetry, prose, short stories, artwork, and photographs created, compiled, and edited by Bishop Canevin students. Oracle offers students the opportunity to share their voice and vision with the rest of the Bishop Canevin Community. The Oracle is a proud charter member of the Quill & Scroll High School International Honor Society and the Pennsylvania School Press Association.
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The Staff MODERATOR MRS CHARLOTTE SMITH
EDITOR SOPHIA CHARRON
CONTRIBUTORS JULIA BALOBECK ALLISON BERNER ALYSHA CUTRI MADISYN CYPHER ROSA DUGAN COULTON GAITENS LEXI HALL JARED KINDLE LOGAN KOHNFELDER THERESA SKINDZIER JOEL SKELLEY EDWARD STANKOWSKI V
Magazine Title
The Oracle
The City by Lexi Hall
Patent leather shoes clatter, Across the pavement. The rustle of purses clutched tightly, Over jackets buttoned up. The rain is sharp and dreary, As umbrellas creak open. Shelter is taken in the corners. Shoeboxes hold households. The smell of wet cement, Invaded the men’s noses, As the little people marched on. Dressed in gray suits. Heads facing forward, Don’t turn. The crowd moves around the sound, Of change clattering in a tin. Noses pointed upward, In determination. Unfazed to hear the cries. As tears rolled down her cheek. Her gray suit was tattered, Defiled by stains of paint. Her palms reaching out, To the wall of gray little soldiers marching past. In the rain.
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Untitled by Alysha Cutri
Magazine Title
Lexi Hall
Two Faced
AFTER EDWARD STANKOWSKI V
I used to weep Lamenting my loss That sweet tranquility Ripped from me in a brutal moment I used to mourn The countless friends Scattered to the seas Like so much dust I used to rage Throwing my anger into the sky As if my dissatisfaction Could make war with thunder I used to do so much So much in pursuit of a life gone by A simple thing Ripped from me so easily No longer It is acceptance now That I pursue Acceptance of who I am The clam After the storm
The Oracle
Untitled by Alysha Cutri
A Day in the Life of the American Flag Jared Kindle Oh, how lonely I am. No one ever comes near to me, ever really looks at me or ever even touches me at all. Only during the same time every week day do all these humans look at me. They seem exhausted! Why are they so tired? Did they just get done running to class? Man, I wish I had legs. I’d go all over the place; instead, I’m just stuck up here, dangling from a rope, living my boring life on the edge. Every day, it gets to me. I’m writing here in hopes that I’ll be let down one day to rest; this gets boring, fast ---- all day watching kids type on the keyboards. The sound is almost hypnotic; their words seem drowned out by the pitter patter of the keyboards. Finally, the end of the day is here. I finally get to rest. I’m taken down from my perch at the top of the pole. I can finally be folded up for the day and laid down to rest. It’s been a long day representing what we stand for, and I finally may rest.
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Hold On to Virtues Julia Balobeck
Hold on to the hope inside you Even if it seems to flicker and fade Hold on to peace Even if someone tests your limits Hold on to wisdom Even if something seems far out of reach Hold on to courage Even if you think you lack it Hold on to love Even when no one shows it. Magazine Title
Glass Fully Empty
COULTON GAITENS I sit in darkness waiting, wanting to see the light of day. Suddenly it happens. I’m thrust into the blinding light of the family kitchen. I’m oriented in different directions to see if I am clean. Swiftly we move to the refrigerator door; my side is pressed against a lever and I am filled with a rush of icy water. Immediately I feel amazing and my outlook
Glass Fully Empty
on life is no longer bleak and morbid. I wish I could constantly feel like this. I am set down firmly on the kitchen table where I really open my eyes and see how extraordinary my life has become. I stay in my spot, content where I am. Slowly condensation rolls down my exterior, leaving a ring of water on the wooden table. Quickly I am moved from my place on the table and a drink is taken from me. I become upset with what is happening but, eventually, I adjust. Again and again I am emptied; soon I am brimming with anger. Everything that I was glad about is now gone and my life is pointless. I was used for another’s gain and nothing more. After I am completely drained of all the water that is left in me, I find myself in the sink with all the other discarded tableware. Hopefully, one day, I will be used again, but I’m not sure if that will ever happen.
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Emerald Eyes
By Theresa Skindzier
Magazine Title
Glass Fully Empty
By Theresa Skindzier
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Lady Midnight Rosa Dugan
My shadow wears A dress of white, soaked through from the ocean A silver and blue amulet around her neck No shoes are worn on her delicate feet Her hair is like waves during the darkest hour Black and flowing My shadow is a lover of someone far before Her power is emulating off Like a black visible in the night Out for revenge
Magazine Title
Glass Fully Empty
Allison Berner
What If
Madisyn Cypher
What if the world was a perfect place Everyone would be happy all the time Tomorrow was something we weren’t afraid of No more worries Everyone was treated equally Everyone would be kind to others Why aren’t these things true?
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D a y i n t h eL oL ife of a Window gan Kohnfelder I watch as the moon falls and the morning sun rises My clothes unraveled allowing the light to creep through, Granting access to the beautiful nature of the earth The scent of the freshly cut grass enters me The aroma fills the room I watch as the day goes by I watch the children leave for school in the morning And I watch them get put to bed at night When the sun begins to fall is when you have to worry Broken in, emotions shattered My remains lay on the floor in pieces Filled with nothing but the reflection of the moonlight Magazine Title
I am anxiety
I am anxiety I dress, cloaked in the shadows of self-doubt
A Lament: Anxiety Joel Skelley
I need to be mitigated by some stronger force I am related to fear and anger, loneliness and depression I vacation alone My job is to instill a culture of confusion and fear I desire suffering
By Allison Berner
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Triumph
Magazine Title