Issuu

COVER

A special thanks to Mr. Samora, who so kindly took time out of his busy schedule to take the pictures for our staff page. Our heartfelt gratitude goes to Mr. Lopez for his next-level social media posts for Akira. We would also like to thank our truly wonderful teacher, Mrs. Hillsey, for her dedication and invaluable contribution to this year's edition of Akira; we would be completely lost without her. A very special thanks to Onyinye Anozie, Erica Olguin, and Matthew W illiamson for editing this

AKIRA Literary and Art Magazine 2021-2022 Published by St. Pius X High School Albuquerque, New Mexico

Copyright © 2022 by St. Pius X High School Akira is a common Japanese given name and directly translates to ?bright light.? Akira Literary & Art Magazinewas created in the early 90's by SPX creative writing teacher, Julia Huchmala. All rights reserved. No part of this magazine may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Distribution of this magazine without a front cover may be unauthorized. If this magazine is coverless, it may have been reported to Jennifer Hillsey, Erica Olguin, or Matthew W illiamson as ?ungifted or destroyed?and neither author nor dealer may have received praise for it. Sorry for the inconvenience. The body text is set in Crimson, a classic style serif typeface created in 2010 by German type designer, Sebastian Kosch. Inspired by beautiful old style typefaces, Kosch designed this open-source font for book production. Kosch's current projects include YinYangFit, a letterfitting model based on biology in which he explores whether beauty and legibility can be objectively measured.

AMCN: 5-053-406797 AMDN: 5-058-313-131

TABLE OF CONTENTS

dr eams Akira

Nicholas Martinez

Icebox

Chidike Anozie

Savannah Dowling

Acrylic W olf

Presley Olguin

Aurora

Charla Smith

The Lady in the Light

Violet McGonigle

My Sister and the Owl

Lena Hernandez

La Luz

Sophia Sanchez

Breathe

Emilio Garcia - Benavidez

Arden Palanza

Ryan Neuschwanger

Sophia Sanchez

Pascale Correa - Bruzzese

Matthew W illiamson

Self Portrait

Mykel Torres

Butter Flying

Brooke Kelly

"You Ain't a Failure..."

Isabel Roddy

Emilio Garcia - Benavidez

Dreamscape

Thomas Sanchez

W ater Color

Natasha Montoya

Albuquerque

Abigail Rael

Jacquelyne Nguyen

Nolan Esterly

Portrait of an Oiran

218 Can you Belize this breezy beach beauty? W here'd All the Time Go? Seascape Life Compared to a Car

Beauty is Enough

Still Life From the Peak

Cover

TABLE OF CONTENTS

NIGHTMARES "The Right Kind of W rong"

Stevie Nuñez

Chaos and Beauty

Grace Aragon

Cracks

Susanna Lanucara

Justice

Rebecca Edgecomb

Dreams

Simone Sandoval

Emperor

Rebecca Edgecomb

Be OK...

Haley Cordova

Chaos in 2020

Julie Gonzales

High Expectations

Kieran Stamber

Drown

Nicholas Hanson

My Soul

Pascale Correa - Bruzzese

Savannah Dowling

Another Dimension

Julie Gonzales

Swallow My Africa

Onyinye Anozie

W alls and Teeth and Unnoticed Anguish

Sanaa Givens

Pressure

W inter Diep

Susanna Lanucara

Angelina Blackledge

Puzzled

Elyse Lovato

Curse For Protection

Erica Olguin

Pomegranates

Erica Olguin

Dead Berries

Onyinye Anozie

Untitled

Susanna Lanucara

Half Gone

Susanna Lanucara

Not Enough

Song For a Snake A Tribute

Happy Birthday In the W oods So Dark Shaman IV 3' X 5'

Ava Marie Machtinger

Savannah Dowling

Robert W illits

TABLE OF CONTENTS

ENEMIES Cherry Soda

Harmony Martinez

Santiago Aragon Roybal

Caroline Madrid

Haley Cordova

Emmanuel Padilla

The City

Charla Smith

My Atlas

Onyinye Anozie

Relaxation

Grace Aragon

Look At Me.

Sandy López

Serafina Apodaca

Elias Braun

Kieran Stamber

Grace Aragon

How To Be

Sophia Sanchez

Memories

Matthew W illiamson

Self Portrait

Grace Aragon

A l one

Erica Olguin

Space.

Sandy López

Martyr

Robert W illits

The Empress of Suits and Silver

Sanaa Givens

A Final Request The Voodoo Man -- Self Portrait Christmas Fling? Desert Snow

Split Zeus' Fishing Hook A Letter Home Hand and Flower

Robert W illits The Tragic Poet's Bed Deafening Silence

Savannah Dowling

Caroline Madrid

Tut

TABLE OF CONTENTS

L OV E R S Till Death Do Us Part

Isabel Roddy

Goodbyes

Isabella Apodaca

100

Goodnight

Serafina Apodaca

101

La Catrina

Alyssa Olivas

102

Onyinye Anozie

103

Midnight Oil

Marco Ybarra

104

Cherry Blossoms

Erica Olguin

105

Pascale Correa - Bruzzese

106

Susanna Lanucara

107

Your Poem

Haley Cordova

108

Face of Flowers

Gabriel Garcia

109

Isabel Roddy

110

Catherine Golden

111

An Ode to Donna

Isabel Roddy

112

Hace Frio en Burque

Marco Ybarra

112

Vestida de Sol

Sandy López

113

Amor

Elizabeth Nuñez

113

New Mexico Sky

Catherine Golden

114

Nicotine

Isabella Apodaca

115

Blaze

My Heart The Fire In Your Eyes

Stream of Affinity Capybara

Intoxication

Isabel Roddy

116

Isabella Apodaca

117

Neapolitan Dreams

Marco Ybarra

118

Cherry Blossom

Carlos Saucedo

119

Ryan Neuschwanger

119

Isabella Apodaca

120

Endless Honeymoon

Marco Ybarra

121

Cato II: Ukraine

Robert W illits

122

Staff and Editors

Akira Staff and Editors

123

W hat W ould I Tell Myself

Xuanantunich Mayan Ruin Site in Belize... The Song

Yume ? : dr eam (dr ?m) noun 1. A tr ain of thoughts, images, or fancies passing thr ough the mind dur ing sleep; a vision dur ing sleep; the state in which this occur s. 2. A vision of the fancy voluntar ily or consciously indulged in when awake (esp. as being unr eal or idle)

Icebox

Chidike Anozie

"A dr eam itself is but a shadow" - Hamlet

Portrait of an Oiran

Savannah Dowling

AcrylicWolf

Presley Olguin

AURORA Charla Smith How did she find herself here?She was surrounded by trees, leaves falling and as they crashed to the ground the sound echoed in her ears. She stood wincing at the cloudless sky, every ray of sunlight burning her skin. The cool breeze pummeled her arms and shoulders and she couldn?t understand how she could feel so much with such little effort. This is certainly a dream, she thought. So she closed her eyes, but in that moment, a gentle rain came down through the trees that felt like a million pin pricks on her skin. She fell to the ground. This is not a vision, not an illusion, she realized. This felt too much and it was reality. A faint whisper approached and called to her. ?Aurora,?it spoke. ?Aurora, turn around.?As she obeyed, the brightest light shone and with that, her heart shattered into shards of glass, but stayed intact like an intricately constructed mosaic. ?W hat do you want from this life??The voice inquired. ?Right now,?Aurora replied, ?I want to become numb. It hurts. It all hurts too much. I feel it all too much.? ?This is grief,?the voice said. ?Grief over loss. Grief over regret. Grief over your own passivity. You are made to experience it so you remember what it is to be human.? ?W hy must I feel pain?? ?Because your humanity demands it.? ?Then I don?t want to be human anymore!? ?Then you don?t want your life?? ?Not if it means pain and torture.? ?If you heal, your life can be beautiful. The agony will merely linger in the background of your soul, and the sharpness will be blunted.? ?How do I heal then?? ?You allow yourself the pain, for it is temporary. That which blinds you, will reveal; that which deafens you, will sing; that which stings you, will soothe. You will not want to be numb and you will crave the beauty of the hurt.? Aurora felt a pounding in her brain that was confusion. ?Aurora, you are the light of the moon, a never ending circle. You will cast your glow and soften all that is jagged.? A darkness then enveloped the sky and she rose toward the light that spoke to her. ?I will do it,?Aurora declared, ?I will heal. I will become alive and embrace my destiny.? W ith that, she circled the bright light and they flew into the sky together into a fixed, but constant glow that never disappeared but would always reflect the sun at night and would always rest during the day. Those who really looked at her would know warmth for she would soften their pain.

TheLady in theLight

Violet McGonigle

My Sister and theOwl

Lena Hernandez

LA LUZ Sophia Sanchez There is a star in my house. It?s small and dainty and it shines dimly in the corner of my room. All it ever does is sit there. I found it on the ground, looking up towards the sky when I realized it had fallen from the heavens. I felt bad for it, so I took it and put it in my room. But now it seems to be more and more of a problem every day. It leaves a mess of stardust everywhere, it?s always hot in my room, and sometimes it shines in the middle of the night, waking me, asking when it would get to leave, I always respond, ?I don?t know?and roll back to sleep. The truth is I will never know if it will return or not. The universe had let it fall and I don?t think it wants to pick it back up.

BREATHE

Emilio Garcia Benavidez

Breathe, one, two, three, four. I keep pace down the street. One, two, three, four. The sidewalks seem to shift and creak. One, two, three, four. My mind is blank. Yet the air doesn?t seem to behave. One, two, three, four. The air I crave is not brave. I hope for freedom but instead am enslaved. I cannot stop, cannot think. One, two, three, four it was so kind and gentle but now it's just depraved. I long for moments where I could exist without the breath. I was not tied down and ensnared. One, two, three, four I cross the open door. Something catches my eye, it's delicate but beautiful. Various colors shine across its edged surface. I did it. I made it. But more importantly I was the master of one, two, three, four.

218

Arden Palanza

Can you Belizethisbreezy beach beauty?

Ryan Neuschwanger

WHERE'D ALL THE TIME GO? Sophia Sanchez How do you encapsulate seventeen years of memory Into a simple stanza?W ould you talk of memories? Happy ones, maybe. Ones of you and your siblings laughing And screaming while you play In the dirt and sand. Swinging on ropes and climbing up trees W atching fireworks on the fourth of July Opening presents under the Christmas tree? Maybe sad ones. Ones where you are crying and hurt. Family funerals and moving away. Your first heartbreak. Maybe you would simply talk of memories, Neither good nor bad Ones of meeting new friends, Hiking in the woods. Vacation and saying goodbye. How do you leave it all behind? How does one encapsulate Seventeen years of memories Into just one stanza? Easy: like this. W here did all The time Go?

SEASCAPE Pascale Correa-Bruzzese It?s like a wave

A blurry gray outline and a

W ave after wave after wave

Big

It hits me and I can?t stop

Black

I?m drowning

Hole.

Sometimes, the waves are

My face is turned up to the

Spaced

Blue, blue sky

Out

And my feet point down at the Black, black water.

Sometimes they just hit One after another after another

First position.

W ithout giving me time to gasp for air. I am weightless like this, I?m surrounded

Meaningless

By a cloud of bubbles as I sink down

And insignificant

Down Floating alone in the middle of the sea,

Down

Salt on my lips, Sunlight fades

And water in my lungs.

Colors go grey

Skin discolored,

Shades and detail become a haze

Ashy and grey

SEASCAPE (cont inued) Pascale Correa-Bruzzese Hair surrounds my head like a halo As my body sinks down And my soul drifts up.

LIFE COMPARED TO A CAR Matthew Williamson There are lots of secrets about this car. Once was new, now has gone so far. It travels a two-way road unknown, It follows its heart wherever it roams. The cars it meets travel the opposite direction. The rear view and mirrors see past interactions. Sometimes it rains, sometimes it pours. It drives through this world to find life?s source. There?s ups, there?s downs. There?s bumps, there?s mounds. But, sometimes the car likes to break down. The shop fixes it up and sends it away. But no matter what, the car goes back to its ways. In the end, this road won?t last forever. So the car drives to find its final endeavor. So, now you see that this car is me. The road is my life and to where it leads. The people I know are the cars I pass. And the road behind me is all in the past. The weather and terrain are the hardships that occur. My broken down car is the times when I suffer. The mechanic is the one that I love. And the ways I return to, is my burden from above. It?s clear to me you think it?s bizarre, That you could compare my life to a car.

Self Portrait

Mykel Torres 25

Butter Flying

Brooke Kelly

"You ain't a failur e, you'r e just a piece of abst r act ar t t hat hasn't found it s meaning yet " I sabel Roddy The human mind holds Abstraction of complex art One?s meaning of thyne

BEAUTY IS ENOUGH Emilio Garcia Benavidez The world melded and shaped around them, it was beautiful. All the colors twirled and spun, splashed and dashed, it was beautiful. For once it felt like enough, it was beautiful.

Dreamscape

Thomas Sanchez

Natasha Montoya

Water Color 30

ALBUQUERQUE Abigail Rael Albuquerque is a tall, brave, brown haired girl. She has blue eyes like the bright blue sky and she looks like a sunset in the dusk of the night. She smells like roasted green chile on a cool fall day. She tastes like a burst of flavor, of red or green. She moves fast and furious like the flow of the Rio Grande. She feels dry like a desert, thirsting for protection from the raging sun. She sounds like the wind rushing through the cottonwood trees. W ith her strong voice she says, "You can find me in the Land of Enchantment, guarded by Mountains the color of a delicious watermelon." She carries a basket of wildflowers, the colors of red, yellow, and green. She plays a drum that sounds like the hooves of wild horses running in the distance. She feels at home in the valley of the Rio Grande. And, you will find her hiding near the petroglyphs if enemies were to come. You'll never forget her because of the hundreds of colors that float in her October morning skies. W ithout Albuquerque there would be no chile roasting on cool fall days; no colors scattered Across the early morning October skies; and no beautiful city guarded by mountains the color of A delicious watermelon.

Still Life

Jacquelyne Nguyen

From thePeak

Nolan Esterly

Akumu ? ? : nightmar e (n?t?mer ) noun A feeling of suffocation or gr eat distr ess felt dur ing sleep, fr om which the sleeper vainly endeavor s to fr ee himself; a bad dr eam pr oducing these or similar sensations

St evie Nu ñ ez

Chaosand Beauty

Grace Aragon

CRACKS Susanna L anucara Voices hissed into his ears Slippery fingers gripped his spine Stilling him as they force-fed The bland bleach truth into his mind Razor claws dragged down his heart Agonizing as their dead, scraping snarls The silver glass shards burrowed in his heart You know your face is not your own That fierce face you stole is not your own Too long you?ve breathed perfumes of lies Sugar-sweet upon your tongue Own up now to what you?ve known: That haunted, faded face is all you own.

JUSTICE Rebecca Edgcomb ring ring

Substandard severing

? I don?t want to wake up

Of schoolmates and sidekicks

Not today

They turned to the most damaging of things.

ring ring

The worst of man's creations

? please be quiet?

Objects which reached

RING! RING!

For a ladder and shot

I guess I?ll get up now.

Them to the sky

I was just watching

For a brief moment

This calamitous comedy

they

? though it devolved Into this nightmare of which I speak

F-L-O-A-T-E-D

This person was having a wonderful life

Almost like nothing could go

W RONG

But similarly to that

Once well regarded, Italian poet

In the sky

W ait no--politician

Before falling to Earth

Hold on! Don?t forget philosopher!

In a grave of their own design.

Yes, yes all those things But similarly This person's life was Served with sudden

DREAMS Simone Sandoval Dream big. But not too big. Let it out. But don?t be dramatic. Live your dream. But only if you can make money from it. Chase your dream. But only if I like it. Have more dreams. But only if we can brag about them. --Parents

EMPEROR Rebecca Edgcomb Let me tell you a story To you it may seen rather . . . boring But to me As I look back It was a winding path Of twists and turns. I?ll begin with this---I sat upon a pedestal So high, that the oxygen Raaaan out, I choked And Fell

Fell ...fell Landing in an unfamiliar land, W here I made The biggest mistake of my life The darkness of this place Blinded me Made me unaware Before? Oh, before I was completely content This life felt worth living Until I spoke

EMPEROR (cont inued) Rebecca Edgcomb And just Like. That. That pedestal c r u m b l e d This solid structure Stabbed through the ST R A T O SP H E R E And in a second It ended. I fell And crashed In FLAMES

BE OK... Haley Cordova Deep breath in Blink three times Smile and see if you can fool yourself The words that were said were not meant W ork that was put in wasn't for nothing Breathe out Close your eyes Hold the tears back and don't let them see Pretend you?re not there You?re not in this moment Hold back your breath W ipe any tears that escape Music to tune it out Lock yourself away Composure is needed Let it out W hat you hold can't be held anymore It?s okay, breathe, no one can see you now

Chaosin 2020

Julie Gonzales 43

HIGH EXPECTATIONS Kieran Stamber My family calls to me,

No matter what I do

?Come on out, look at all you?ve done!?

I?ll never be good enough.

I go out to see my face on the screen

I?ll always find failure

Surrounded by people better than me.

That makes me not good enough.

It says I?ve done a bunch That I deserve to be in there,

I was the one left here

But all I truly feel is

To maybe be good enough.

Nothing.

I have to keep trying To maybe be good enough.

And so it goes every time

W hy was I left here

A cycle that keeps going on

To maybe be good enough.

I go to the peak

W hen I feel I?ll never

And everyone sees

Truly be good enough.

But I don?t feel their pride

But I must keep trying.

All that I feel is the life going on. If I fail, I feel pain Like anyone else But being able to succeed Is just next Tuesday Victory is desensitized Failure is over penalized But not by anyone But myself. I need to be good enough, As good as they are, As good as I need to be, But I?m never really good enough.

DROWN Nicholas Hanson Every day I drown in pain Heart?s been falling like the rain Leaves behind a bloody stain Demons call me out by name Voices, visions in my brain Temptations driving me insane Black and white but life is gray In between is where I stay Feel that life?s a fucking game Wear a mask to hide my pain All I lost I have to gain For my mistakes there?s me to blame I waste the time I have today I waste my time it?s all in vain A beast?s inside I have to tame The beast is me my fucking brain Let it loose to kill and maim The thoughts I have to kill today W ish that I could soothe my brain Numb my heart with novocaine Thought I had a super brain Need my friends to keep me sane The devil?s here he?s in my brain I brawl it out like Bruce and Bane This life I live I lost my way Everyday I live in pain W ish the Devil was to blame

MY SOUL Pascale Correa-Bruzzese My soul is a funny little thing Sitting in the center of my chest Most days she simply lies dormant Content to sit back and rest Sometimes she gets lonely, funny little thing Finds herself aching for more She?ll darken and expand, menacing and grand Till I?m staring down a storm cloud at my core My soul is a funny little thing, you see Because nothing is ever enough My fluffy storm cloud whips around and around And a monstrous black hole opens up Now it?s not so funny, little thing As the black hole in my chest expands Pulling everything in, there's no way to win So I give in to her demands Still, my soul is a funny little thing It?s not ordinary things she desires Neither wealth or riches, nor jewelry or witches Could fuel her roaring fire She only wishes for those funny little things That make us happy, keep us going, you and me Our interests, our passions: from houseplants to fashion All pulled into singularity But my soul is a funny little thing--you?ll see Because once in a blue moon She?ll meet someone new, throw her world askew And she?ll start to twirl and swoon

MY SOUL (cont inued) Pascale Correa-Bruzzese My funny little thing is now light as a feather Ready to burst out of my chest She flies higher and higher, my little spitfire Is giggling gleefully in jest Unfortunately, my soul is a funny little thing Because it never lasts very long As swiftly as she inflated, with exhilaration, she was weighted Down, down, once again

Now we?re back where we started, funny little thing

NOT ENOUGH Savannah Dowling W hy did suddenly everything fall apart all at once? It was all so pleasant and happy before this happened. W hen I actually felt confident for once in my life, It all came crashing down before me. I feel like Atlas, burdened by the weight of the world The yoke of pressure and expectations on my shoulders It piles on and on, crushing me in the process. I don?t think I?m strong enough to hold it up anymore. That horrible voice in my head sets the stage Making perfection the only meter for worth ?W ho are you if you don?t have what it takes?? ?W hat place do you have if it?s not 1st?? I can?t ?try my best?because my best is not enough. I need to do better, I need to be better W hy do I always get so close, but just quite not enough? No matter what I do, I will never be enough. I wish I were confident in myself. I wish I didn?t care so much what other people think of me. I could find peace of mind and finally breathe. But I do care. I wish that I could fit the face that launched 1,000 ships W hy do I feel like my body isn?t my own? I wish I didn?t look in the mirror and hate what I see Every ime I look back I don?t have the strength to claw my way to the top I?m stifled by the fear of failure, yet want to give up. W hen will I meet the iceberg that sinks my ship? And get pulled under once and for all. I wish I didn?t base my value on academic success I know that grades do not determine intelligence But why can?t I believe that?W hy does my brain tell me it?s not true? W hy does it tell me I?m not good enough, like everything else I do? I wish I didn?t think such things about myself. I wish I could go back in time and just press pause But time doesn?t go backwards and dwell on the past, Not like our brains do. I?m tired of not being able to sleep at night, Thinking of every single little thing I did wrong Thinking of how bad I am at handling change. I?m tired of feeling worthless. That Nothing I do is ever good enough. I?m not good enough. I?m not enough.

Another Dimension

Julie Gonzales 49

SWALLOW MY AFRICA Onyinye Anozie Someone, something struck a chord within me, realizing that I should be utterly ashamed of myself. Ashamed that I haven't come to terms with my identity, ashamed that I've been trying to push this part of me away because ignorant people harass us for it. Ashamed that for the past 17 years, I?ve been trying to swallow my Africa. Ashamed that I believed that I can't be Nigerian and American at the same time. Or can I?Should I relinquish one identity to completely assume the other?I?m not strong by any means, I?m just frazzled and too dizzy to think about stuff like that. I haven?t grown, or changed, or gotten the guts to demand recognition as a ?bold, black, and beautiful woman.?I?m nothing in this frail and knotted body, trapped in my own fear and pride. I?m still basically the little dumb girl we?ve all had to put up with for the last few years. My mother always told me to be proud of who you are, but how could I be when I get gunned down for something I can't change?W hy should I be proud when people think we?re from W akanda, we live in huts, we can?t use any modern technology, we eat snakes, and we have pet lions and giraffes?How can I be proud of something that isn?t true?How can I be proud of Africa when people think it?s a country, not a continent?We?re obliterated for not having ?normal?names, we?re shot to the ground because our hair is kinky and nearly unmanageable. W hat?s in a name anyway?Onyinye, Onyinyechukwu, in its full form, means ?God?s gift??God?s gift?Gift to who?W hat a joke, I feel like god?s curse from hell most of the time, a mere disgrace, something not to be uttered, something coming to ruin your children because I don?t really believe in me being Catholic anymore, nothing but a strapped down girl just brought up to be the next doctor, servant to my husband, tight-lipped, happy, smiling, oldest one, demure, xenophobic, Catholic, Jesus?slave to be played with for the rest of my life. I guess I?m supposed to acquiesce when I get asked ?what country I'm from,?or when my mother, with her very thick accent, is harassed at the grocery store by ignorant shoppers. They marvel at the way she can?t say her Rs properly like her mouth?s a zoo exhibit. I?m not sure what to do when people cringe when they hear our names, or pretend to care about how to pronounce it or what it means; no, I don?t have an English name, and no, I don?t have a nickname, no, I don?t go by anything else. I?ve considered changing my name, but I guess it just kind of grew on me. I can?t release the burden to anyone else, once I take on another name, my identity is completely lost, onyinyejust doesn?t suit anyone else, and onyinyewon?t leave me alone no matter how hard I try to get rid of them, so I must drag them along into this miserable and vicious world. No, I don't like having full lips or a big nose at all, I?d give it away in a heartbeat, and I?d kill to have long, luxurious hair and lighter, less morose and tired eyes. No, I don?t intend to rob a store, and no, I don?t intend to get violent or aggressive by any means, save for this fire aching in my stomach, burning in fury at things I can?t control and things I don?t understand. I don?t think anyone will ever truly understand how ready the world is to imprison us (quite literally, all too often), I don?t think you?ll ever understand the struggle of being taught that working twice as hard to get the same

SWALLOW MY AFRICA (cont inued) Onyinye Anozie as everyone else is absolutely commonplace, it?s completely typical, and oh my god if you?re a girl, that?s a whole other story. I don?t think you?ll ever have this unbearable subconscious protocol in your head telling you that if you are pulled over, you obey the officer without question or you might end up dead on the dirty asphalt, your blood spattered, with a hole through you. I?m not trying to be a victim of the ?injustice of society,?because I'm not one. I?m the same as you all; that?s my point, We?re the same as you. I?m just trying to help you understand , because that?s what we need. I?m not special or enough of a cause for a whole month to be devoted entirely to celebrating our ?excellence.?Acceptance, understanding, and appreciation of other cultures, ethnicities, and races should be happening on the daily. We?re all the freaking same. But the world doesn?t agree, so I must keep swallowing my Africa, like a big, dry pill.

WALLS AND TEETH AND UNNOTICED ANGUISH Sanaa Givens Peach walls represent change. The original beige was nice enough, but the fear that wiggled within its crevices was a constant reminder. They never got rid of the table. The bite marks were lodged into the maroon wood. The frame of the marks were in desperate need of dental work. Fear not; she would get braces later. The table wasn't as important. It was the walls. The walls enveloped the room, suffocating the inhabitants with balmy memories. In the second full month of summer, with the start of classes, only hours away, warm baths and chalky paper are the only thoughts. The only thoughts before the explosion. The rattling of her mind, the shrieks playing with her brain like a yo-yo. Thunder cracked from the mountain, striking the wind. The wind relents, breaking apart before striking back. The grateful speed was only prompted by the life-threatening fear clouding the senses in her mind. The mountain had been boiling over for some time, threatening to send sharp boulders tumbling down toward its fragile children below. The town and river balk in horror, frozen in place. Unable to help the shattering wind. Stuck in between the mountain and the storm. Did the town sleep that night?They simply cannot remember. But they do remember what truly counts. The river and the town both remember the scars of that night. The final break of the wind against the mountain. Now, years later, the damage still shows. Cracks in the town, blemishes in the river's complicated route. The river already struggled so much, and the bullying of the mountain only confused it more. Can they be blamed for the battle?The explosion?Are they to be blamed for the aftermath?For their reaction to the foundation snapping? No, but they harbor the damage in their timid attitude whenever they see the mountain. They remember it. As does the wind. As does the mountain. W hy, then, is the mountain the only one who chooses to forget? Because that is how it works. That is how abuse works. You get to forget and I sit here, still frozen. Still begging my body to move. Begging my body to do anything but sit staring at those walls, at that mark in the wood. I hate beige walls and I hate teeth marks and I hate this wound that I call a memory.

Pressure

W inter Diep 53

SONG FOR A SNAKE Susanna L anucara We?ve heard the song a million times before: A tale of loss, of fear, of love and strife. It?s woven in our hearts like hidden lore-A thought that guides us slowly through this life. The ending weaves itself into our hearts: The hero wins, the lying snake will fall An ending predetermined from the start So some will have no chances but to stall, To stall the ending, stop the fall, the fate, If only for a moment as we reach In hope of changing, choking out our hate Mere words inside our hearts don?t reach our speech A snake was born inside my mother?s womb-Small hopes will only serve to seal my tomb.

A Tribute

Angelina Blackledge

Puzzled

Elyse Lovato 56

CURSE FOR PROTECTION Erica Olguin Her beauty was that beyond a rose; A curse wrapped in ribbon As every night unwanted hands Grabbed to take her beauty. Her strength was like a stone But every tear she spilt was A prayer for protection From the predators who sought her truly. In the temple where she lay, a gift presented onto her From none other than Minerva, W ho gave her power and with only a glance Her abusers turn to stone and alone behold Hair full of snakes; never to be allowed to escape Men now called her monster but their fate was sealed As the girl named Medusa was now her own mighty shield.

POMEGRANATES Erica Olguin The door burst open with the force of a god He stormed in on a cloud of fury W isps of darkness touching his face W ith a look like Medusa that turned those to statues He clawed the breath from my chest with a glare A look so piercing and sharp like a blade W hat hurt more was the pain in his eyes I was a bird locked in a cage and he was the key to Letting me go free. But he did not want me free.

He is Hades and me Per sephone.

Dead Berries

Onyinye Anozie

UNTITLED Susanna L anucara Fields of grass spread wide before our eyes Soft underfoot, they try to hide The sense of sorrow flooding nigh We pretend we're never lost to night This place, our home, calls us to its side Nevermore to say goodbyes Yet memory lurks beneath the soil And in the leaves of every tree And drums and fire fill the night However much we try to fight The visions that we'll always see Of grass that's painted red and spoiled We cling to peace and to denial Pretending we don't know our loss Desperate not to face the cost

HALF GONE Susanna L anucara In her mind the flames still danced before her, warming her face and singeing her hair. She saw them when she closed her eyes. They?d nearly killed her, she knew. Maybe they had, though she was still on this planet. Sometimes it felt as though she wasn?t, as though she was merely staring out at the world behind a wall of silvery glass, and sometimes the glass became a bit more opaque. ?Elliot,?she whispered. Her voice hadn?t been able to rise higher since the fire. It had become a painful, shredded hiss. She used to sing, sometimes, at church mainly. She couldn?t anymore. Maybe that was why Elliot didn?t seem to hear. His shoulder twitched slightly, but he made no response, his eyes a blank gray as he stared at the book in his hands. He wasn?t reading--just staring. She tried again. ?Elliot.?He swallowed this time, and rubbed the scar on his face. Don?tdothat, she tried to say, It?snot fully healed. Beside him, Elliot?s girlfriend, Lisa, stirred. She didn?t like Lisa. She?d told Elliot, but he hadn?t cared. Maybe that was fair. She wasn?t? quite sure. It seemed right. ?El??Lisa asked, her brows furrowed. ?W hat?s wrong??Elliot shook his head, eyes closed. ?Nothing. It?s nothing. I just thought I heard ? ?He trailed off, and when he opened his eyes again, they were too shiny. Hey, don?tcry, Ellie! What?swrong?Areyou okay?Funny. The words still wouldn?t come. Lisa leaned over and squeezed Elliot?s arm gently, stroking his hair back with her other hand. ?You didn?t hear anything, El. I?m sorry. She?s gone.?She stared at Lisa, bewildered. ?Yes-?--hedid. It?sme. Can?tyou hear me?Can?tyou even seeme?The words still weren?t working as they should have. Neither Lisa nor Elliot, now leaning wearily against her--good, get somerest--made any response. Lisa was holding Elliot tenderly, soothing him as the tears trailed down his face. ?I?m so sorry, El. I?m so sorry. She?s gone.?She realized then. Lisa was talking about her. Gone?I?mright here. She rubbed her throat desperately, trying to force the sound out. It?sokay. It?sokay. I?m right here.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY Ava Marie Machtinger ?Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to Poppy,?I sing to my sister. It's October 31, my dearest sister's birthday and all she wants this year is someone to join us for her party. ?Brother!?Poppy screams from upstairs. I ran upstairs into her room, ?Yes?? ?I know that my birthday dinner isn?t until later, but I want you to bring my friend now. I?m bored, brother. Please.? ?Sure.? She always wants a friend to join us; each year it?s a different friend. I grab my keys off the counter and head outside. This has been the coldest fall in years and the news reporters say there?s going to be a freeze coming soon, but I don?t mind. The cold preserves things. We live on a nice street but there aren?t any kids for Poppy to play with, so I think I will drive to the park. There?s a boy with curly black hair and a little girl around Poppy?s age; they look like twins, these two kids. I wonder where their parents are. Oh well, better that they?re not here. ?Hi, I was wondering if you two had seen my dog,?I showed them a photo of our dead dog Banner. ?No I haven?t seen your dog, but maybe we can help you look for him. My sister and I don?t have to go home for another 15 minutes.?The boy is clearly older as he takes charge and answers me. ?Oh, thank you! I don?t know what I would tell my sister if I lost her new dog.? As we start looking, I notice that it will be hard to separate the girl from the brother. No matter, I can easily go behind the boy and knock him out. I grab the nearest stone and slam it down on the boy?s head before he gets the chance to ask questions. ?Jackson!?the girl screeches. She is quite annoying, but she will do nicely for the dinner. ?Sorry about this.? I wrap my arms around her neck until she stops clawing at my arms and finally stops moving. ?Time to go get ready for the party.? W hen I get home, I have to get her ready for my sister, so I take her to my mother?s powder room. Poppy hates black curly hair so I must give this girl new hair, but first, I have to tie her hands and feet to the chair. ?W hat are you doing?I want my brother.?The stupid girl starts to cry and struggle--she?s going to mess me up. ?Shut up!?I hit her with the iron and she stopped moving. Perfect. I shave off the black hair and sew the straight red wig onto her head. Gross--she is bleeding on her new dress. The next step is to do her makeup like mama taught me. Daddy said it wasn?t becoming for a young boy to like dresses and makeup, but he?s gone now. The girl is almost ready now, and she will look beautiful. There! She is done. Her hair is straight and red like Poppy?s doll, her dress is a perfect fit. The only problem is the shoes just don?t fit. ?Please let me go. Please.?The girl is awake again, but that is alright this time. I grab the scissors and grab her foot. To start cutting off her toes. ?This will hurt, but you will be beautiful after.?I start with the smallest toe and cut it off with one quick snip of the scissors. The girl is screaming but that is alright, I will kill her soon anyways. Her toes are leaving blood on my new

HAPPY BIRTHDAY (cont inued) Ava Marie Machtinger suit and the carpet. I better go wash up for Poppy and put the shoes on the girl. ?Sister, it is done. It?s time for dinner.? I go down into the basement where it is freezing, but my sister is happy and the whole family is here for dinner. I pour drinks for everyone and all is going well until there is an interruption. ?OLIVER BOYD COME OUT W ITH THE GIRL!?The cops?W hy are they here? I grab a knife and the girl, I slowly open the front door and for some reason my home is surrounded. Now is my chance, I pull the knife across the girl?s throat. ?BANG.?I . . . I was shot. ?Medics, I have the girl and a 70 year old man who was shot in the leg.? ?I have done nothing wrong. My sister just wanted a friend.? One of the officers comes out of my house, ?Sir, there are 58 frozen bodies in here, all in a freezer in the basement. 55 of them are young girls with the same dress as that girl and the last three are his family. We believe he killed them all.? ?NO! You are ruining my sister?s birthday!? ?Oliver Boyd, you are very sick and you need help. Your sister is dead; and has been dead for 55 years, she is just a rotting corpse now.? ?W hat??

IN THE WOOD SO DARK Savannah Dowling The wind was a howling wolf Through the tall, wooden spectres The rain hammered down on an earthen anvil A trail of repeated indentations followed the girl, And her dark clone traveled suit in the pale moonlight, Chained together at the foot. The red cloak danced on her shoulders, The crisp air giving it life, As though it were a sail on a vast ocean. Her lantern glowed gold as a beacon of hope, A lighthouse in the thick of the storm; For without it, she could not see which way to go. A lone traveler chased by beastly things, She keeps running and running, As Zeus and Thor laugh, merciless. But she would cross the river, Climb any mountain, to meet her only hope In the promised land.

SHAMAN IV 3' X 5'

Robert W illits

Shaman is a mixed media piece that deals with the mysterious power some people seem to possess over others ( multitudes of others). I've done several paintings and mixed media pieces that address this subject. 65

Teki ? : enemies (en?m?) noun 1. An unfr iendly or hostile per son 2. One that cher ishes hatr ed, that wishes or seeks to do ill to another ; an adver sar y, antagonist, or opponent

Cherry Soda

Harmony Martinez 67

A FINAL REQUEST Santiago Aragon Roybal I look out across the lake. The sun is setting on this day, the day of my death. I look out upon a boat in the center of the lake and see the three men who killed me dump my body into the lake. I see red tendrils move like branches in the water. W hether it?s the setting sun or my blood I?ll never know as suddenly I feel a presence behind me. ?It is time to go little one,? I hear the voice say behind me. I look around and see that it?s him, Death, the Grim Reaper. He reaches a hand towards me. ?Please stand up, it is time for us to leave.? I shake my head at him. ?It?s not fair. W hy should they get to continue?W hy did I have to die?But they get to keep on living??I turn away and look back across the lake. They?re rowing to shore now. I feel Death sitting next to me. His signature scythe in the hand opposite to me. ?I am sorry, young one. There is nothing I can do to make this more fair. I do not choose who dies, I simply help you with the transition between these two worlds.? He turns his head to me and even though his sockets are empty, I can feel the understanding in them, like he truly is sorry for my situation. I look back to the men. They?ve already driven off, I can see the fresh tire tracks. I sigh and nod my head. ?I understand. Let?s go then.?I stand up and turn away from the lake. The last place I?ll ever see. ?W here to now?? Death takes his place next to me. He extends a hand and I take it. ?Onto the next life.? We start to walk and as we do the scenery around me changes from the natural world to a slideshow of my life. All of the things that I had done, the good, the bad, the funny, and the serious, all of it was here. As I looked around at all of the things I had ever done, I made a request. ?Hey death?I have a question.? ?W hat is it, child?? He kept his head forward towards the next life but still kept his focus on me. ?We get a final request right?Something that you give us before our next life??I remembered hearing stories about people challenging Death to a game to return to life. That never ended well though. ?Do you plan to challenge me to a game?I will tell you that many have tried, but no one has yet to succeed.? I heard a tinge of sadness in his voice. Almost as if he wished they had succeeded, as if he wished that he didn?t have to bring people to the afterlife. ?No, I don't want anything like that. I was wondering if, when those three men die, could you bring them to me before you send them to wherever they go in the afterlife.? Death seemed to be surprised at my request as he actually looked back at me. ?Well the afterlife isn?t exactly sectioned off. I could lead them to you, but why would you want that?? He seemed to be genuinely confused. Like this was something that no one had ever asked for before. ?Well, I want to ask them a few questions. I want to see what they will do after what they did to me. I want to see if they grew or not.?I look away from the slideshow of my life and up to Death. He nods and continues forward. ?I see. Well then, consider it a deal. I shall bring them to you once they die. I shall also preside over the conversation to lead them away whenever you so desire.? And with that, we finally stepped into the next life. It was a beautiful sight. There were animals running around and plenty of people as well. I looked over to Death. ?Thank you, I?ll see you later I guess.?He gave me what I think was a smile and nod before going back into our world to transport more souls. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A FINAL REQUEST (cont inued) Santiago Aragon Roybal I had been in the afterlife for about two months before Death brought the first of the men to me. I was tending to a communal garden we had made at the time. The man looked disappointed. He had probably tried to challenge Death and lost, he was looking down so he hadn?t seen me yet. ?Hey there,?I said, which got him to look up at me. ?How ya doin' there, man?? ?YOU,?he says angrily, like even my sight after death pisses him off. ?THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?? ?I was just tending to the garden. W hat about you??I chuckle internally at how mad this guy is getting, guess he hasn?t gotten over whatever made him kill me yet. He looked over to Death, still seething with anger. ?W HAT IS THIS?SOME SORT OF PUNISHMENT FOR LOSING??Yup, he definitely challenged Death to some game. ?No little one it is not. This was simply their final request.? Death nods towards me. He turns back to me. ?Let me guess, you want to get some sort of revenge??He taps his foot on the ground like he wants to get this over with. ?No. I just wanted to talk with you. I wanted to see if you?d grown since that day but I can see that you haven?t.?I leaned down and picked a few flowers, I stood up and looked down at them in my hands. ?But I have one more question for you. Do you regret what you did??I looked up from the flowers and at him. I got my answer as he spit at my feet and turned away from me. ?I?ll never regret it.?I nodded and looked at Death, he nodded at me and led the man away. I took the flowers and set them afloat in the nearby pond. I later learned that he was involved in a Gang Shootout when he died. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Death brought the next man two years after my death. At this point we had built a little Town Hall as a community and I was playing cards with some friends that I had made when there was a knock on the door and Death walked in with the man. I stood up and walked over to them, I looked up to Death. ?Can we go outside please?I don?t want to scare anyone.? Death nods and leads us outside. I look over at the man Death brought. ?Hey there.? The man seemed to have been looking around at the beauty of the place he was in before looking at me. ?Oh hello there. I didn?t expect to see you here.?He gives me a blank stare, I see less behind his eyes than Death?s skull and it sends a chill down my spine. ?I just wanted to ask you a few questions about you and then you?ll be on your way.?I shook off the chill moving down my spine from this guy's stare. ?I just wanted to know two things: after you killed me what did you do with your life?And do you regret what you did to me?? The man scratches his chin, as if he?s thinking, pondering the question. ?After killing you I went on to become a journalist, isn?t that funny?I took a job to uncover the truth while hiding the truth of what I had done to you.?He chuckles and I want to retreat into myself, his laugh is haunting and I don?t know if I?ll sleep for the next year because of it. ?But as for regret, I can?t say that I do regret it. Is that all you needed me for?? His casual response makes me physically take a step back as I look up at Death and ask with my eyes, Pleasetakehim away. Death nods and leads the man away, as they leave I hear the man say to Death, ?I believe that I?m owed a final

A FINAL REQUEST (cont inued) Santiago Aragon Roybal request?? Death told me that he was assassinated for digging too deep into one of his cases. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------The final man came much later, what I would estimate to be the end of his natural life, and yet he looked as young as the other two. I guess it would make sense that you would be transported back to a younger age. W hen Death led him to me I was drinking tea in a little cabin the people of the community made me, I had become a bit of a leader for new people entering the afterlife here. The first thing that I noticed about him was that he was immediately aware of me, unlike the other two he seemed to be aware that I was standing in front of him. The second thing that I noticed was that he had tears in his eyes. I looked up at Death to try and get an answer but before I could get one the man dropped onto his knees in front of me. I took a step back; this hadn?t happened before and I was startled and confused. W hat he said next only added onto that. ?I?m sorry, I?m so sorry for what I did to you.?A million emotions ran through me all at once, anger, sadness, regret, understanding. Every conflicting thing that I had ever felt rushed up to the surface and I choked. I couldn?t say anything back because out of all the things that I thought would be said to me by these three men, this was something I never thought I would hear. After what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few seconds I responded. ?W hat??Thinking back on it there were definitely better things that I could have said, but my brain was still reeling. The man stayed on his knees as he answered. ?After we dumped your body we all agreed that we would never speak of what had happened again.?I could see his tears pooling under him as he told his story. ?I could never shake the feeling of what I had done, I always lived wishing that someone would come along and give me my karma, but it never happened.?He looked up at me and I could see the remorse in his face, I could see how guilty he felt at what he had done. ?W hen I finally did die I asked Death to bring me to you so I could say sorry.? W hen he said that I dropped down to his level and gave him a hug. I had never expected any of them to want to come and see me to say sorry. I let him go after a little while and told him what I had wished for. ?W hen I died I asked Death to bring all of you to me, I thought that I could judge how people had changed but I never expected any of you to want to come to me.?I stood up and offered him a hand. ?Come on, let's have some tea,?I gave him a little smile and he accepted my hand. We talked for a long time over tea, I don?t know when but Death left us to our own devices, now he lives in this little community and we have tea on Sundays. I?m glad that he?s here now honestly, it helped me really move on from what happened to me rather than just judging the people that did it.

TheVoodooMan -- Self Portrait

Caroline Madrid 71

CHRISTMAS FLING? Haley Cordova I don?t really know how to start this no I?ve never been good, So I will just start with saying this in the nicest way I could you?re a really great guy but I?m not in the mood, I?m trying not to get attached but I know you're leaving soon if not in person I know you will leave my head, but I know for sure you will leave, even after all that was said don?t ask me to be vulnerable that?s something I can?t do, because how could I be so vulnerable to someone who looks like you I really like your smile and your eyes are so kind, but my insecurities come out caused progress to rewind Maybe I?ve been hurt and maybe I?ve been scarred, for being myself around you shouldn?t be this hard Do you really like me or have I been a distraction from your pain, I know that you loved her, I know it hurt, so is being with me your way of keeping sane I don?t want to hurt you but I can see our relationship coming to an end, because I met you through these circumstances you were never just a friend I wish you knew me different I wish you saw the side of me I love I wish I was better I wish I gave the side of myself I?m proud of You?re perfect in every way but you?re just not perfect with me, I never opened my heart and I never let you see you never saw me taking down my walls and becoming who I really am, I need to be around someone who wouldn?t give a damn

CHRISTMAS FLING? (cont inued) Haley Cordova but maybe I?ll stay, I?ll stay a little longer, but I really don?t know what we?re going to do, once Christmas break is over

Desert Snow

Emmanuel Padilla 74

THE CITY Charla Smith I want to run away and Meander down busy crowded streets W ith the hum of traffic as euphonious notes to my ears. My eyes lift wondrously to buildings that scrape the sky, Feeling cold in their shadow Yet warm in their embrace. My feet dodge faceless, nameless beings who cannot see me, Shoulders rubbing intimately As our breath mingles in the smoky air. I wander until there is no sun left but there?s just as much brightness and noise as there was at the break of day. Pure light is replaced by colors and neon and incandescence, Music wafts from doorways that are just ajar, and a unique melody is created in my mind by mixing it with a buzz of footsteps and exhaust. I must have a destination Or not I must have a sense of purpose Even if there is no obligation to be had. I am therefore at peace with the noise and fog; Anonymity is my refuge.

MY ATLAS Onyinye Anozie everyone knows it takes eons, for me to walk a step to go, to move, to exist naive eyes, dreamy look, to make the world my fantasy sometimes my eyes shine like a well of stars, a cup filled to the brim other times my tears are blood rivers from the wounds the world has inflicted upon me this is reality i just want to be carried away in your arms sometimes but i know that you cannot be my Atlas i know that i cannot build a labyrinth of problems upon your shoulders, though strong they are i understand that i failed at the most desperate moment i couldn?t carry her so i do not deserve your warmth, brushed upon my calloused skin if only you could press into my arms, bury yourself deep in my flesh, as a climber painfully edges up a peak if only you could etch the path for thick rivers of blood to flow, dripping crimson onto my stained, white T- shirt the carnage would keep me wide awake awake so i can fight these terrors trying to take me away from you i?ll hold the demons inside by their throats, and watch as the light slips from their eyes so i may hold your doubts and fears, so i can be your Atlas but you cannot be mine i only have my heart to give, one that murmurs quiet and agonized truths, throbbing and pulsating for something all i can give is what i am, which is no more than glistening tears and a whisper from some creator there is no time in this lonely life, but i have an eternity to be your Atlas

Relaxation

Grace Aragon

LOOK AT ME. Sandy L ópez look at me, but not like that. look me in the eyes with serenity, love, recognition. like you did before-this has always been me, it's not a phase. i?ve never been more sure of anything. look at me, but not as if i'm a stranger. look me in the eyes, don?t analyze me up and down nothing has changed, this was always me, i?m sorry i kept this from you, but what did you expect me to do? if i knew you?d look at me this way, i never would?ve shared. look at me, or don?t, i don?t think i can bear to have you see right through me. i wish i could see right through your eyes, analyze what you're thinking about me. i wish i could know exactly what changed when i told you. look at me, please. i?m still me. look at me.

LOOK AT ME. (cont inued) Sandy L ópez look at me. look at me before i can?t even bear to look at myself. look at me. look at me, but not with disgust. look at me. look at me before the cold stains my hands, lips, and eyes, that i have used to look at her. look at me. but, don't look at me like that.

SPLIT Serafina Apodaca I?m sick of it. I?m sick of having to be there when people decide to split. And I know it isn?t planned but maybe it should be. Maybe the adult should start acting their age, Instead of acting out with their rage. Because I am sick of people leaving. I am sick of people deceiving. I need someone who is there, Someone who wants to care. I am sick of her lies, I am sick of the sad goodbyes. I wish we could go back, I wish we could find the other track. The one where no one had to leave, Maybe if I wasn?t so naive. I could have seen what was happening, Getting over you was so challenging. I felt like I was gonna die, And all I wanted to do was cry. No one could understand, I realized that I had been scammed. All I could think was, did you ever love me? W hen you left did it feel like you were free? Did it feel like a job complete? Because to me, it felt like a piece of my heart was gone. It felt like I had just undergone The most horrible thing in the world. You left me there betrayed and broken, But maybe I had only woken. I had woken from a dream, A drama in which all I did was scream. But when I found my voice, I could finally block out the noise. And say that I was sick of it.

Silver

Elias Braun 81

A LETTER HOME Kieran Stamber Hey, sis, it?s been a while. How are you? Since you left, I?ve been through A lot. Guess what?I?m almost an adult! Finally, I can maybe be responsible for once. Responsible for everything you left for me. I wish you were here to see it. Mom and Dad are doing alright, my brother is, too. He?s getting used to middle school, A bit of a learning curve, I know. W ould you know? I?ve been so worried about you that I haven?t been able to think about who I am, who I want to be. W ould you even understand? Ever since you left I don?t even know how long ago I don?t feel like I?ve done enough, Done anything To make you proud of me. Are you?

A LETTER HOME (cont inued) Kieran Stamber I miss you a lot. I wish you were here To see what I go through To see how they ruin the world But you?re in a better place. And I?m here to carry the slack.

Miss you, hope you write back soon!

Hand and Flower

Grace Aragon 84

HOW TO BE Sophia Sanchez I don?t know how to be myself without denying a part of me

MEMORIES Matthew Williamson The things that we?ve been through, too much to say the least. The times we spent laughing, all of the memories. I?d do it all again, even if you still hurt me.

Self Portrait

Grace Aragon 86

A L ONE Erica Olguin A L ON E A room of people Loud noises, pounding ear drums Overly expressed fake emotions Never ending slow moving time Leaving never a moment to cry Empty thoughts with draining humans time and time again I am in a room full of people but feel utterly alone. if i cry, would people hear my tears? would they notice my red cheeks-? -stained with tears?W ould they see me? As the girl who both wants & hates to be ALONE. would they give me the space to be okay? or would they pound my head with more emptiness. do they see my cravings for validation? an acknowledgment of my existence beyond this point of time where I want to Not be alone? to be held. To be told that everything is fine that I am not alone and that I never will be. but at the same time does that scare me? because I feel whole and unsuppressed in my emptiness? I do not know if I want to be Alone? or if in the darkest part only want to be... A L ON E

SPACE. Sandy L ópez i am taking up s p a c e. letting my words fill your mind. the a i r. the cracks and crevices not even the light can reach, or ever wish to touch. they replace the silence. silence provoked, but never interrupted. out of fear? yes. the root of it all. peculiar isn?t it? a tinge of doubt, embarrassment, ignorance? do these fuel fear or is it the other way around?

i am taking up s p a c e. letting my words be heard. b r e a t h e d into existence. you won?t listen.

SPACE. (cont inued) Sandy L ópez i?m sorry my words don?t open borders, fix the gaps in equality, feed the hungry, or resuscitate all corners of existence, but. they take up s p a c e. and i know, you won?t listen. why would you? i was born on the wrong side of gender. on the wrong side of everything, really. but, with privileges. i leech off yours. i have the privilege to seamlessly fit in, despite every piece of me that wishes to take up space. i won?t be contained. i will take up my space and yours.

Martyr

Robert W illits

Martyr (3' X 4') is mixed media. It deals with the idea that some people start out with a target stuck to them. The brave ones use it--embrace it. 90

THE EMPRESS OF SUITS AND SILVER Sanaa Givens Their bank account was satisfied with her recent deposit. Their power was still a domineering chain held tight around the throat of Singapore. A strong grip that the Noyon family refused to relinquish. Both good things as money and power were the only qualities that a Noyon needed to possess. Other traits such as kindness and compassion had no room in these politics. Especially as a woman. Especially as a female heir. It was hard enough to survive with her last name always producing a target on her back, but being the illegitimate heir that she was it may as well have painted her location in bright red paint. Their bank account was happy and so she took a chance. Monroe Noyon brushed her thumb over her rings and slid the remainder of her black chips forward with her knuckles. The man across from her raised an eyebrow and watched her careful movements. Every noise in the large room threatened to break her focus. Marbles smacking against the side of the playing tables, drinks slamming down onto counters, a victorious cry erupting from near the slot machines. Monroe kept her face neutral. She had done this far too many times before to allow such meaningless sounds to distract her. Again those eyes watched her next moves. Hazel irises scanned her jaw, watching for a slight twitch in the muscle. Flickered up to her forehead, checking for sweat or a stressful crease in her skin. The man was clearly delusional and a bit dumb. A Noyon did not balk at penetrating stares. It was more likely to rouse a challenge than permit grounds for surrender. ?Do you intend on moving any time soon, Adrian?? Monroe asked, her patience wavering at the man?s indecisiveness. Those eyes widened at her in surprise. ?Bonte!?the boy cursed. ?Do not call me that. Only strangers and enemies call me that.?Marbles crashed against the side of a playing table and sent several heads turning when defeated curses penetrated the night. Only Adrian and Monroe remained, forever, locked in their battle. ?Are we not strangers and enemies, Adri??she responded. He nodded his head in approval at the correct use of his name. Adrian Fontaine Benoit had only been in Singapore for thirty weeks but, he had done a remarkable job of becoming a perturbing thorn in Monroe?s side. Supposedly, he had arrived on a merchant trading ship on the fourteenth day of Spring to discuss capital with Teml Noyon. His financial conferences with her father had ended nearly a month ago and Monroe hadn?t been privy to any of them. That had only fueled her loathing of his presence in her city. W hy he still remained in her presence she couldn't figure out, but it did give her the chance to prove her power over him. An ample victory in a card game would be a satisfactory start. Even if it was some distorted, domestic version of American poker. Monroe?s hand drummed the table impatiently. ?Se taire!?Adri reproved, glaring at her over his own cards. ?To play cards is not to possess great speed, but to possess patience and skill.? Monroe glared at his reprimand. ?Do not shush me. And I beg of you, monsieur, cease with the dramatics. I have practically won this game already.? ?Is that so, chérie??he asked, raising an eyebrow.

THE EMPRESS OF SUITS AND SILVER (cont inued) Sanaa Givens Violence tended to result in scuffed up heels and soiled dresses, thus Monroe elected to avoid it when possible. She opted to pay off others to complete her dirty work and yet Adrian Fontaine was so unbearably infuriating that she wished to deal with him herself. ?Yes. Now make your move; fold or play your cards before I have you thrown out of my club for wasting my precious time,?she said. No more looks of surprise met her gaze from across the table. Monroe laid her cards down. Three queens; two of hearts and one of diamonds. The remaining two cards in her hands were identical nine of spades. The full house had the spectators around the table gasping slightly. Several curses and chuckles escaped their throats. Bets passed one way or another. Money changed hands with more vigor than the beginning of the match and Monroe couldn't tell if she was insulted or flattered. Any inkling that her people had so little faith in her set her teeth singing. ?Impressive,?Adri mumbled. Monroe crossed her arms over her, spectacularly sparkly, dress and smirked at her rival. ?That is indeed the word normally associated with my name. Now play your losing hand,?she commanded, waving a hand toward him. ?Ah,?he exclaimed. ?Impressive, but lacking in finality.? Monroe frowned. Defeat coiling in her stomach as Adri mirrored her former smirk and displayed his hand. His fingers moved from his cards dramatically, bending several of them in the process before drumming them on the soft purple surface of the table. If she hadn't been so horrendously beaten by him, she would have smacked him for damaging her family?s property. Four queens, all of different suits, stared at her from the table. Money slipped from reckless hands and fluttered to the floor accompanied by the angry shouts of several spectators. Some, those that had expected her failure, held up their newfound fortunes, triumphant. Those who had bet on her, which was the majority much to her rival?s dismay, stomped their feet and cursed in defeat. ?Lacking in finality??she questioned, her eyes never leaving Adri?s. The boy nodded and leaned back in his chair, crossing an ankle over a knee. ?You enjoy the dramatics? as you called it, but there is no true reason to fear your hostile words and flashy attitude. That is all that you have and that is precisely how your family survives in this city. On pretty words alone.? Monroe?s head had grown quiet enough that she could only hear her racing pulse. She nearly forgot her earlier reserves about damaging her clothing. Her anger nearly overwhelmed any other instincts. No one ever spoke out of turn against the Noyon family. Especially about their power, and she decided to assume that this random dealer from France had no idea the kind of power her family held. The kind of power her name held. ?Survives this city??she exclaimed, bewildered. ?My family owns this city. Mind how you speak of them.? ?Them??he asked. ?Do you not consider yourself as powerful as the rest of your family?? His face was becoming quite vexing. Her nails dug into the table. ?I am the heir of the Silver Shadows. I am at the heart of the power in my family, monsieur,?she said. The next rise of his eyebrows prompted her to think. Perhaps she was the drama. Nonsense, she reasoned. He was the one who had the gall to look smug even after mentioning her family. Any other, reasonable, male would have shivered just in fear of the name. Adri sighed and drew himself up to his full height, towering over Monroe even as she sat across the table. He

THE EMPRESS OF SUITS AND SILVER (cont inued) Sanaa Givens produced a black top hat and settled it on his head. Dramatics, she rolled her eyes. Nonetheless, Monroe allowed her eyes to widen a fraction in surprise. She hadn't noticed the accessory balancing in his lap. ?Au revoir, mademoiselle,?Adri said, dipping his head. ?It has been a pleasure.? It had been anything but a pleasure. Still, Monroe let him leave. She allowed him to walk out of her club when at any moment she could have ordered any member of the Silver Shadows to stop him and they would have obeyed. She stayed at the table long after the boy had left, participating in meaningless conversations and winning back more money than she lost. Still, she thought of the game. The embarrassing loss and smug attitude of her rival. Monroe Noyon was always the one to make others cry in terror. Cause them to run home as soon as they heard her name. Now, she supposed, she would have to work even harder to get rid of Adri. There, at her family's card table, she made a vow. Adrian Fontaine Bontier would understand the power of the Silver Shadows. He would understand it and fear it. He would understand and fear its heir. The only witnesses to her vow were the smoke wafting through the air and the pair of hazel eyes, seated at another table, assessing her every move. Making a vow of his own.

THE TRAGIC POET'SBED

Robert W illits

TheTragicPoet'sBed. 6' x 8' acrylic. It deals with the Roman poet Lucan (Seneca's nephew). Lucan and Seneca were forced to commit suicide when Nero discovered they were plotting against him. Lucan wrote a note that paraphrased states, "The only consolation that men of no hope possess is realization that they have no hope at all." It describes personal sacrifice for honor, justice and art. We could use some of that today.

DEAFENING SILENCE Savannah Dowling We were all gathered in the room, Sweat dripping down our backs, Our bodies trembled like leaves in the wind. There was deafening silence. No one spoke a word, No one looked anyone in the eye, We just stood there, waiting. W aiting for something that We wished would not come. ?It was a mistake to come here? We all thought the same thing. Our eyes darted around, Looking for the slightest movement, The slightest indicator of danger, Of something new, of anything, That meant we were done waiting, But it did not come. There was only deafening silence. My eyes continued their frantic scanning And then there was something. My eyes did not see it though. A drop of sweat fell to the floor, And it?s small splash to us, W as like a gun being fired, And echoing around. My hairs stood on end, My pulse would not slow down, My breaths would not lighten, My guts intertwined even more. I dreaded the fate that would come down on us all. I closed my eyes, and collected myself.

DEAFENING SILENCE (cont inued) Savannah Dowling It?s okay. It?s okay. W hen I opened them again, The silence was peaceful and comforting, All my tension released, And I believed, It was okay. I soon found the silence, comforting, rather than deafening, There was security in it, as there was in darkness, Most would label it frightening, For one cannot know what awaits them. The unknown, the uncertainty was frightening, But I told myself, rather, to not know was better I did not know what would happen, W hatever will be, will be And I would be okay. But then there was not silence.

Tut

Caroline Madrid 97

Koibito-tachi ? ??? : lover (?l?v?r ) noun 1. One who is possessed by sentiments of affection or r egar d towar ds another 2. One who is in love with, or who is enamor ed of a per son

Till Death DoUsPart

Isabel Roddy

GOODBYES I sabella Apodaca How do I say goodbye? Do I start with everything I?ll miss? Or do I just say it and leave? How can I? How do I say goodbye? Do I leave everything behind? Or do I take it all with me? How can I? How do I say goodbye? Do I just move on with my life? Or do I cling to everything I am leaving in the dust? How can I? How do I say goodbye? Do I say everything I haven?t in the last 18 years? Or do I just trust that you know? How can I? You know what . . . Goodbye

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GOODNIGHT Serafina Apodaca I am worried if I say goodnight this might be a goodbye, No one knows how much longer I can bear to hear you cry. I know I must go but how can I leave you like this, The pain I feel are the things I am going to miss. I am going to miss your laugh, I am going to miss your love, I am going to miss the way your hand fits in mine, like a glove. I am going to miss your voice, And I know I am making a choice. A choice to leave you all, the way my mother left me. I should be better but how can I be, I am in an impossible situation and I don?t want to leave. But if I stay I will just continue to betray. This isn?t me, I am not a liar, I am not a deceiver, I am not a scammer. Or at least I don?t want to be. I wish there was another way, A way to keep you close. But for now I will leave, Goodnight, my sweet.

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La Catrina

Alyssa Olivas 102

BLAZE Onyinye Anozie my heart is set ablaze at the hideous revelation ?i don?t see how this can work? hot tears tear cavities into my face, like acid ?sorry, but i think we?re through? didn?t you ever feel something electric between us? a hungry spark, a flame throbbing to be set free into a wildfire? maybe i was the crazy one maybe i?m a fool maybe in this cruel and unusual world, i was expecting some sort of heavenly bliss, some absurd, whimsical fantasy maybe i was expecting the tyrant of affectionate love that governs our hearts with an unyielding hand Be Careful W hat You W ish For.

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MIDNIGHT OIL Marco Ybarra I remember our early days, The days where my poems were lit on fire And my dreams were cut short, So I could be awake with you In the ungodly hours of the night I remember the first time We danced, and our kiss was left Unsatisfied by the nerves of new beginnings, And my next chance to dance, To hold you in my arms, W as uncertain, But time?s arrow marches forward Dance with me, I?ll show you the moves, But forgive my off steps, I?ve prepared for this moment for years, But the nerves never fail to stay Be close to me, You know where I?ll be

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CHERRY BLOSSOMS Erica Olguin Break me, take my heart Sew me up, take my life. Burnt intentions, stained in my skin. Your touch has inflicted my damage Trapped and you're my captive. I am weak to your advantage Oh, let me have it Your fingers bring madness I live in my own magic Tell me I am tragic. Too selfish so I take I don?t love nor hate My desire for your own sake. Raw bruises, flustered kisses. W ild butterflies choke the hisses Of those who prowl In dreams of peace Reachable pleasure foraged in ecstasy Cherry Blossoms, wisps of wind Crawl in deep, a breath of primrose path A suffocated mind lived in for life W aste my time. Your, oh so sweet delight Gives me my enraptured A stimulation of something oh so great From titillating endeavors Till my peak has been reached You have taken my veracity, oh, so gladly. Now see me when you dream.

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MY HEART Pascale Correa-Bruzzese

My heart grows on trees It?s low-hanging fruit So easy to reach

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THE FIRE IN YOUR EYES Susanna L anucara Oh, the fire in your eyes And all the ways you make me lie, All the things you?ve said these days Builds in the air a clouded hazeSee, now I can?t see right and wrong, For you have smothered my old songCoolly, you look and ask for truth, Then place a match on all my proofYou watch it all go up in flamesYou press into my hand the blameCold ashes left from all I saidNow every lie lives in my head.

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YOUR POEM Haley Cordova You?re beautiful without trying Your sense of wonder amazes me, Are you trying to make me glow? Are we obvious or am I just flustered? The feel of your hand in mine? Have we ever been just friends? No one knows about us I don?t even think you do Dressed in jean head to toe Your small smile lights a room Your dark eyes are so bright I miss the day we sat close in the car Someday I'll tell you, I?ll tell you everything, And I?ll say this poem was about you

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Faceof Flowers

Gabriel Garcia 109

STREAM OF AFFINITY I sabel Roddy Crisp fall air A lover's haven, Sits where the carved cedar holds the names of two A drive in the black Passat Rio Grande provides A trail to the most perfect night of their lives

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Capybara

Catherine Golden

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AN ODE TO DONNA I sabel Roddy The spinning serenade of ecstatic sounds W istful rich scent of crushed coffee grounds Like the scene of an indie movie love story The music sang through the door, he W as a piece of art The Head and the Heart played subtly on my Victrola Setting the stage for the Lovely Christmas night ahead of us Thus, The record began to play

HACE FRIO EN BURQUE Marco Ybarra Late nights, Christmas lights, All I think about is you Letterman patches, Green chile batches, An extravagant view Balloon rides, Rio Grande drives, A place we once knew

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VESTIDA DE SOL Sandy L ópez Vestida de sol Del amanecer Del atardecer Con tonos anaranjados Rosados Y dorados Vestida de sol Disfrazada de diosa, de vida, de un calor inmenso Cuando en realidad es mi destrucción inminente Todo lo daria por ella Vestida de sol Me dejara en ruinas y lo acepto totalmente Porque ella Que mal me puede hacer, si está Vestida de sol

AMOR Elizabeth Nuñez ¿Dónde está su amor? ¿Está en su corazón?¿Está en el cerebro? ¿Está en sus pensamientos y palabras? No, el amor está profundo en tu alma esperando ser nutrido.

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New MexicoSky

Catherine Golden 114

NICOTINE I sabella Apodaca It kills, slowly burning through your body with lightning speed. It destroys your organs and overrides all your previous wiring. It consumes your every thought and becomes your biggest priority. It is addictive, convincing you that it is all you need. You will not be the same after and you will miss it every second it is gone, You may think it?s nicotine. But you are wrong . . . It is love

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INTOXICATION I sabel Roddy In a room filled with familiar faces But it felt like we were the only ones The traces Of our footsteps disappeared right where we had left them My hands intertwined with yours Subtle solidarity of my velvet dress We dance and dance But with no intention to impress Anyone else. I can?t take my eyes off you So focused on the chalice holding waves of umber You really know how to intoxicate me and I think I can too All eyes on us But mine are chained to you

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WHAT I WOULD TELL MYSELF I sabella Apodaca She is the best thing to happen in a long time, She will make you believe in people again, And she will understand who you are without explanation. Her advice will push you to step out of your comfort zone, Her hugs will become a safe place among the chaos, And ?Her love is going to be better for you than his ever was?. Appreciate everything she does for you, Embrace her every chance you get, And tell her you love her. You never know when everything will change so Treasure your moments with your best friend.

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NEAPOLITAN DREAMS Marco Ybarra A snap of light A rush of love A memory captured by the kiss In walked two friends, Out walked two lovers, W ho implored to burn this to the core The eyes of the lens Are buried by the eyes of thine A photograph dreams of competing with the mind

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CHERRY BLOSSOM Carlos Saucedo In a long tangling forest Once we got lost Kept walking until we stumbled Stumbled upon a calm steady waterfall As your gentle touch grazes the bushes Butterflies flutter frantically In both our souls and in the branches As I look up a single Cherry Blossom falls Leaned into the waterfall As you pull me deeper Underwater we are now falling deeper and deeper But the simple grace of your smile Makes me at ease To breathe and believe So gently and kindly your presence warms my heart As you hold me in the rain of Cherry Blossoms

Ryan Neuschwanger

Xuanantunich Mayan Ruin Sitein Belizenear border with Guatemala 119

THE SONG I sabella Apodaca This dance makes me fall in love. W ith the melody ringing out, Reverberating off the walls, Making my heart flutter. That dramatic changes keep me on my toes, Moving with every crescendo. The different ways the violins play, Pluck the strings of my heart. My feet move on their own, Following the beat. The piano instills a calm over me, And my eyes close to dream. The song turns into a person, And I fall in love with the way they move. Their fingers gracefully fly through the air, And their feet step rhythmically, They are hovering in the sky. Their hair flows behind them, to invite others to join in. Their clothes cling desperately onto their body, As not to fall behind. They were what I had been searching for, Yet when the song ends they are gone in a heartbeat.

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ENDLESS HONEYMOON Marco Ybarra Now, the pearl dwellings reflect the paradise above, As the ocean in the sky showers drops of Tentura and Ouzo, The prophecy of the weds became what was dreamed of, And the endless honeymoon endured in the chateau The ocean?s spice savors in their senses And Gyros and Moussaka fulfill, They may not have a thought of their next consequence, But besos satisfy sweet desires with a thrill Thus, the sun sets in the west, And the waves rest at the rise of the moon, His honey finds comfort in love?s conquest, Just as he finds peace in the never-ending swoon The promise to keep her warm Commenced with the adventure to Mars, And they danced once more beneath the stars

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DEDICATION TO UKRAINE

CatoII: Ukraine

Robert W illits

This painting is about war and devastation. Cato was a Roman Statesman that promoted the total destruction of Carthage--killing the men and making slaves of the women and children. I would now call this piece "Cato II (Ukraine)." It's a multimedia piece combining relief with painting, relief sculpture and collage (50" X 64").

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AKIRA STAFF AND EDITORS

Chidik e Anozie

Isabel l a Apodaca

Savannah Dow l ing

Isabel Roddy

Mar co Ybar r a

Simone Sandoval

Sandy López

Pascal e Cor r ea - Br uzzese

Kier an Stamber

Onyinye Anozie

Matthew W il l iamson Susanna Lanucar a

Emil io Gar cia - Benavidez

Rebecca Edgecomb

Er ica Ol guin

Car l os Saucedo

Sophia Sanchez

Stevie Nuñez

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Hal ey Cor dova

Nichol as Hanson

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