Prisms: Spring 2013 | Volume 23

PRISMS A LITERARY-ART MAGAZINE Spring 2013 Volume 23

St. Joseph Notre Dame High School 1011 Chestnut Street Alameda, California

PRISMS STAFF Editor-in-Chief: Jenna Vacca Literary Editor: Amelia Khoo Art Editor: Danielle Pomeroy Layout Editor: Desiree Harris Foreign Language Editor: Isabella Reid STAFF MEMBERS Kimberly Avalos Jacqueline Belloso Daniela Chaparro Nigel Duniven Ciara Lane Natalia Layson Serena Milroy Maddy Shiber Jackson Sundheim COVER DESIGN Rose Lassalle-Klein INSIDE COVER DESIGN Danielle Pomeroy ADVISER Elizabeth Peláez Norris ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Paula Cekola Concha Castellanos Deitrick Jennifer Dlugosh Jean Kuznik Andrew McKee Mark Ritter

PRISMS is a literary-art magazine published by students of St. Joseph Notre Dame High School in Alameda, California. Submissions are accepted throughout the year. As “a rainbow refraction of light,” PRISMS reflects the diversity of the SJND student body through different media, genres, and languages. Funded by St. Joseph Notre Dame High School, PRISMS is shared and enjoyed by our school community. Each SJND family receives a free copy.

Printed by Urban Art Lithography, 2331 C St., Sacramento, CA. Adobe InDesign CS3.

Fonts: Ritzy Remix. 16 pt. 18 pt. 60 pt. and Times New Roman. 9 pt. 10 pt. 11 pt. 12 pt. Brother Laser Printer HL-5140. Cover & Text: Titan Gloss 80#. Ink: Black and Four Color Process. Perfect Bind.

700 copies.

TABLE OF CONTENTS ODE TO THE BOOK…………………………………….…...…............8 Carlos Rodriguez CONTEMPLATION……........................................……………...............9 Joshen Ruelos SELF-PORTRAIT…………..............………………………..........……..9 Alexandra Aubry FLOATING SHAPES...…………....................……………..........…….10 Justin Passion MONSTER FACE…………......………………………..…..........…….10 Kristine Nguyen “BE YOUSELF”……….........……………………..……..........……….11 Desiree Harris MI CAMINO…………………………….........……………..........…….12 Guadalupe Carolina González TALKING WITH MYSELF………………………......................……..13 Janet Gonzalez SÓLO UN NIÑO………………………………………..........………...14 Kimberly González DARK NIGHT…………........................……………………..........…...15 Justin Passion DARKNESS…………….....................………………….........………..16 Grace Falkner THE END…………………………....…………………….........……...18 Janet Gonzalez REMEMBRANCE………………….......…………………….........…..18 Christopher Oberempt LA PISTOLA…………........……………………………..........……….19 Daniela Chaparro EL PELIGRO………………............................………………..........….20 Gabriela Hinojosa DEBAJO DEL LUSTRE……………………….........………..........…...21 Alessandra Zambrano CESURA………………………………..........…………………………22 Alessandra Zambrano BUSCANDO LA PRESA………..........…………….….......…………..23 Gabriela Hinojosa OLAUDAH EQUIANO’S MIDDLE PASSAGE………..........…....…..24 AP U.S. History OVERLAPPING OVERLORDS………..........………................……...25 Oscar San Miguel

MI QUETZAL…………….........…………….....................…………...26 Axel Garcia OBITUARY……..........…………………………….................………...28 Amanda Mattoon TIME RUNNER………….........………………….....…………………28 Nigel Duniven AVENGED SEVENFOLD CONCERT……...............………………....29 Jonathan Schuitema MY FAVORITE NOTES…………..........………..……………………..29 Alex Holtzman, Jackson Witherspoon YOU AND I…………………........................................……………….30 Amelia Khoo LA RESPUESTA……………………………......….................………..31 Karina Myers SHADOW PUPPETS…....………….........…………………………….32 Robin Levy VALENTINES DAY…………..........…………………………..............34 Natalia Layson MAÑANA……....................................................................................…36 Robin Levy ABSURDITY...........................................................................................38 Alessandra Zambrano NIGHTMARE FUEL..............................................................................39 Michelle Seiwald CASPER…...............................................................................................39 Danielle Pomeroy WOMAN AND SEA...............................................................................40 Kristine Nguyen BANANA BOAT….................................................................................40 Taylor Griffith RISING TIDE……..................................................................................41 Amelia Khoo DELPHINA………................................................................…..........…42 Jackson Sundheim LA PLUMA.............................................................................................43 Daniela Chaparro PARAÍSO….........................................................................................…44 Thong Dinh BONSAI…….......................................................................................…45 Rose Lassalle-Klein REACH FOR THE SKY..........................................................................45 Alexa Martinez

MASS TRANSPORTA TION…..............................................................46 Danielle Pomeroy STREET LIGHTS....................................................................................46 Taylor Griffith THE NIGHTOSPHERE…………........................……………………...47 Amanda Mattoon MIGHT I WISH?................................................................................... 48 Jenna Vacca PEACOCK…….......................................................................................49 Kristine Nguyen DRUNKEN HUMMINGBIRD................................................................49 Julia Courville LA MANTEQUILLA..............................................................................50 Eric Baskett I THOUGHT YOU CARED....................................................................53 Desiree Harris LA PIÑATA..............................................................................................54 Daniela Chaparro MY HOUSE.........................................................................................…55 Desiree Harris FORGOTTEN..........................................................................................55 Karina Myers THESE STAIRS…...................................................................................56 Jenna Vacca BRICK BY BRICK…..............................................................................58 Danielle Pomeroy ADIÓS…..................................................................................................58 Lydia Hall MEMORIES…….....................................................................................59 Ryann Malicdem THE WAVES OF NEW JERSEY.............................................................59 William Keane MI ANCLA….........................................................................................60 Ryann Malicdem BLISS IN EVERY SIP.............................................................................60 Maribelle Martinez NEVER ONE WITHOUT THE OTHER….............................................61 Alessandra Zambrano STILL LIFE.............................................................................................61 Jackson Sundheim CINQUE TERRE.....................................................................................62 Daniela Chaparro

CAMOUFLAGE..................................................................................…62 Dalton Green RUSIA..................................................................................................…63 Brian Pérez ROSIE AND LICORICE..........................................................................63 Kohl Grunt PEZ SOLO EN ACUARIO......................................................................64 Kimberly González EL CARACOL.........................................................................................66 Isabela Reid MARIPOSA.............................................................................................66 Bianca de la Cruz THE LITTLE BIRD……………………...........……………………….68 Emilio Sanchez WATER’S TOUCH……………………………..…………...………….69 Taylor Griffith LOOKING FOR ULYSSES…................................................………….70 Isabela Reid EL PAÍS DE LA ETERNA PRIMAVERA...............................................72 Axel Garcia METAL....................................................................................................74 Robin Levy REPAIR....................................................................................................75 Rose Lassalle-Klein STAMPS...................................................................................................75 Mariana Garibay SUNSET IN ALAMEDA........................................................................76 Amy Wang WISH……………………………………………………...……………76 Andrew Leong AUTUMN AURA....................................................................................77 Jonathan Schuitema WINTER’S TOUCH................................................................................77 Rachel Falkner SOLITARY…………......................…………………………………….78 Jackson Sundheim FIREFLY..................................................................................................78 Robin Levy

Sturdy.

Patient.

Teeming with life.

This is the Great Tree Hush‌ Can you hear the wind’s ever changing call?

Feel the hearty pulse emanating from its roots Into every emerald leaf?

The air, fresh, as if after the first rainfall Here is where inspiration grows High above In branches stretched longingly toward the stars Adorned with dazzling dew drops Light streaming through the canopy Creating dappled patterns that sway to the tune of the forest Stay a while and rest in the shade. Let the solace of the Great Tree soothe you. What is the breeze telling you? Allow PRISMS to be your guide.

Jenna Vacca Editor-in-Chief

ODE TO THE BOOK The book The book I pick up in the library The majestic imaginary life The life in which I can be someone I am not The words I read carefully Come to me like a reality show.

They engulf my room as if it were filled with water The words describing my life as a teenager, As if this book were meant for me The pages which I touch passionately, Rough, textured, sharp-edged, Are the obstacles I wish to surpass The slow turning of each delicate page, Are the stages of my life.

The book, My book, My book that I am writing, My book I never knew was in progress, My favorite book, My Life.

Carlos Rodriguez ‘14

8 PRISMS 2013

CONTEMPLATION Joshen Ruelos ‘15 Tempera & Watercolor

SELF-PORTRAIT Alexandra Aubry ‘16 Painting

FLOATING SOLIDS Justin Passion ‘16 Pastel & Watercolor

MONSTER FACE Kristine Nguyen ‘14 Acrylic

“BE YOURSELF” With a can of spray paint in her hand And a smile on her face She starts to work on her masterpiece “Be Yourself” She thinks as her hand moves along the wall Creating shapes and letters in the moonlight She paints the Earth With calm blue waters And green lands that come together to form a big heart Behind her main message: “Be Yourself” Say the block letters Of all sizes and shapes Crowded together, not complaining “Be Yourself” Sing the many colors that complement one another Like good friends She steals away With a can of spray paint in her hand And a smile on her face Thinking of those few moments When she could be herself Desiree Harris ‘13

PRISMS 2013 11

MI CAMINO Cuando camino sobre la calle húmeda Después de una lluvia intensa Y la noche se vuelve mustia como si no hubiera ocurrido nada Silenciosa y tranquila solo se escucha la brisa pasar Grandes luceros iluminan mi sendero La luna se refleja en el pavimento En sus charcos las bellas estrellas centellean con alegría Y a lo lejos veo una silueta que me expresa vida Y me recibe con sus brazos abiertos Y me dice, “Bienvenida, todavía te espero.”

Guadalupe Carolina González ‘13

MY PATH When I walk on the damp street After a heavy rain And the night becomes limp as if nothing has happened Quiet and peaceful as the breeze passes by Big bright stars illuminate my path Moon reflects on the pavement In its pools joyful stars twinkle And in the distance I see a silhouette that brings me life That receives me with open arms And says to me, “Welcome, I’m still waiting for you.”

Guadalupe Carolina González ‘13

12 PRISMS 2013

TALKING WITH MYSELF Overflowing with sadness, Taking in all the remarks, Made fun of for being different, Just because I’m the girl with scars.

Maybe we wouldn’t be different, If you would only stop.

I understand you have anger, But these aren’t the right thoughts.

When did you become like this?

Was I too blind to see?

Since you control everything I do, That could be a possibility.

You control my choice of words, What I taste, smell, and feel.

You’ve grown sick, I’m told, I just want you to heal.

Look at what you’ve done, Look at what you did, Now these scars will stay on me And join the ones I’ve hid.

You’ve made my hands the enemy, But they’re doing what you want.

You’ve made my arms the victim Of your vicious taunts.

After years you’ve seemed to stop, And I’m just wondering why.

Was it because the thoughts got old?

Or because you heard my heart cry?

It seems you’ve been overpowered Because you thought my heart was small, But it made you see the wrong you did; I guess love does conquer all.

Janet Gonzalez ‘15

PRISMS 2013 13

SÓLO UN NIÑO Soy un niño Maltratado por la ignorancia y el placer.

No tengo juguetes sino cicatrices, Marcas largas y rojas que se extienden por toda mi espalda Como ríos de sangre.

Soy niño pero me siento como perro.

No me bañan y apenas como unas migajas de pan duro.

Duermo en el suelo y siempre tengo frío.

Vivo en el sótano, Mi única compañía La soledad y la tristeza.

No tengo poder.

Me siento abandonado.

Ya no quiero vivir en este mundo diabólico.

A veces quiero gritarles a todos y recordarles que Soy sólo un niño.

Kimberly González ‘14

14 PRISMS 2013

ONLY A CHILD I am a child Mistreated by ignorance and pleasure.

I don’t have toys but rather scars, Long, red marks that run across my back Like rivers of blood.

I am a child but I’m treated like a dog.

They don’t bathe me and I barely eat crumbs.

I sleep on the floor and I’m always cold.

I live in the basement, My only company Loneliness and sadness.

I have no power.

I feel abandoned.

I don’t want to live in this diabolic world anymore.

Sometimes I want to yell and remind everyone that I am only a child.

Kimberly Gonzalez ‘14

DARK NIGHT Justin Passion ‘16 Pen and Ink

DARKNESS

Darkness as the sun dies in the sky As we make our way to the water Not sure what to expect of it yet possibilities flood our minds Darkness surrounds me As the oar cuts into the water But how can it stand against this growing darkness?

Darkness closes in as the sun falls from the sky Burning the edge of the world orange as it goes, The last of my hope goes with it.

Oh, what can you do when all you can see is black?

Oily and tarlike, yet smooth as silk as you push through it Can’t escape it yet you never stop trying.

Darkness spreads everywhere, every corner, crack and crevice.

Just waiting for the light to go out as it always must ‘Thunk’ as you free your blade as you fly through the dark.

16 PRISMS 2013

The lights cut through the midnight surface giving a glass-like illusion, Smell of burning invades my senses as the buzz of a launch zooms by, Rippling the darkness and slowly shaking the boat up and down, up and down.

“Power up,” she yells, urging us through the twisting current even as we go blind, Under the bridge, warm exhaust from metal machines hits me, I know how treasured this will be in the coming months as the wild winter chill plows in.

Darkness surrounds me as I feel the gunnels of the boat The cold metal bites into my thigh leaving a stinging reminder Even if you can’t see it, it’s still there.

You can’t escape it, you can’t outrun it You fear it and try to expel it, even as you need it All you can do is run ‘til it catches you and wraps you up in its inky embrace.

Grace Falkner ‘16

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THE END From the look of things, the quiet cries of desperation are interminable.Though the silence of my failure is obscure, my mind shrieks with pain since I am at fault for all my mistakes. My heart opposes the cruelty done by those who have hurt me. I feel angry Life forcing me down on my hands and knees, choking me with a noose as I gasp for air. I glance at the ones I love one more time before my eyes fill with tears. I feel like I’m eternally suffocating.

As I awake and regain consciousness, I am relieved that Life has had mercy on me and let me live for one more day.

Filled with all my memories and thoughts, I walk across a familiar bridge. I feel Life’s presence behind me. I’m blindfolded. I’m stripped and tied to an icy pole. I feel shamed. My tears moisten the cloth covering my eyes. As it falls down my face, I gain sight of the great sea. I realize I have been tied onto the bridge I was walking on. I slip from my ropes and lean forward until the knot unravels itself. I begin to fall against my will. I await the inevitable crash between me and the roaring ocean. I hear Life laughing at me. Fright and sorrow wash over my face. I realize Life only let me live to get my hopes up and then brutally destroy the joy I have been given. Now I dwell on the ocean floor, unclothed, dead, with the last memory of Life, laughing in my pathetic face.

Janet Gonzalez ‘15

REMEMBRANCE Christopher Oberempt ‘14 Scratchboard

LA PISTOLA Nubes de polvo giraban en las calles Cuando la encontró, Una pistola Como un juguete negro y misterioso Brillando entre pedacitos inconocibles de su pueblo.

Extendiendo sus manitos morenas, Lo agarró cerca de su pecho.

Sintió las ranuras profundas Y un volumen demasiado grande para sostener.

Las imágenes parpadeaban en sus ojos.

El sol brillaba En la frente de su mamá y hermanos.

Con un nuevo sentido de poder, Corrió hacia el polvo.

Daniela Chaparro ‘14

THE GUN Clouds of dust spun in the streets When he found it, A gun Like a black, mysterious toy Gleaming amongst unrecognizable pieces of his town.

Extending his small, brown hands, He clutched it close to his chest.

He felt the deep grooves And the bulkiness too large for his grasp.

The images flashed behind his eyes, His mother, his sister, the way the sun shone in front of his doorway.

With a new sense of power, He ran toward the dust.

Daniela Chaparro ‘14

EL PELIGRO La linda noche luna llena iluminosa llenando la oscuridad con rayos de luz La noche se convertirá en una pesadilla llena de criminales que cargan pistolas buscando víctimas inocentes que se caen en la trampa de la muerte cubriendo las calles de Oakland con globos, velas y recuerdos de fallecidos.

Gabriela Hinojosa ‘13

DANGER The lovely night full moon illuminating filling the darkness with rays of light The night will turn into a nightmare full of criminals who carry guns looking for innocent victims who fall in the trap of death covering the streets of Oakland with balloons, candles and memories of the dead.

Gabriela Hinojosa ‘13

DEBAJO DEL LUSTRE Metal, Brillante y lustroso Metal, Corazón de la guerra Pintura en el arte de la guerra Herrero de la violencia Armas, balas, armas de fuego Todas de metal Raíces del sufrimiento Causa del dolor Metal, Una vez brillante y lustroso Ahora, Empañado y opaco Alessandra Zambrano ‘13

UNDERNEATH THE LUSTER Metal, Shiny and lustrous Metal, Heart of the war Paint in the art of war Blacksmith of violence Weapons, bullets, guns All are metal Roots of suffering Cause of pain Metal, Once shiny and lustrous Now, Tarnished and dull Alessandra Zambrano ‘13

PRISMS 2013 21

CESURA El silencio es algo que tiene mucho poder. Aquí en la jungla el silencio es raro. La jungla está viva con ruido. Los árboles bailan con el viento, susurrando la canción del cielo. Ramas se estremecen como maracas. Todos los elementos de la jungla están vivos con música y ruido. Las aves montan el viento y cantan la canción del cielo con los árboles. Ojos cerrados, él se sienta, respirando la música de la jungla y exhalando una parte de su alma, juntando con la canción del cielo. Perdido en la música, no le hace caso al silencio. Abre sus ojos y ve dos ojos amarillos mirándolo.

El silencio es algo que tiene mucho poder. En la jungla el silencio es raro. En la jungla, el silencio es el compañero del peligro.

Alessandra Zambrano ‘13

CAESURA Silence: it is something that has a lot of power. Here in the jungle, silence is a rarity. The jungle is alive with noise. The trees sway with the wind, whispering the sky’s song. Leaves shake like maracas. All the elements of the jungle are alive with music and noise. The birds ride the wind and sing the sky’s song with the trees.

Eyes closed, he sits, breathing in the jungle’s music and exhaling a part of his soul, joining with the sky’s song. Lost in the music, he fails to heed the silence. He opens his eyes and sees two yellow eyes staring back at him.

Silence: it is something that has a lot of power. Here in the jungle silence is a rarity. In the jungle, silence is the companion of danger.

Alessandra Zambrano ‘13

22 PRISMS 2013

BUSCANDO LA PRESA Te levantas ligeramente Como una pluma Corres hacia tu enemigo Con fuerza Nunca vista jamás Te estás preparando Para atacar Tienes miedo Pero no te desanimas Tus pupilas se abren Das un rugido furioso Y en ese momento Sabes que Tienes corazón de León Gabriela Hinojosa ‘13

IN SEARCH OF PREY You rise lightly Like a feather Running towards your enemy With strength Never seen before You are waiting To attack There’s fear But you don’t Feel discouraged Your pupils open widely You roar furiously At that moment You know that You have the Heart of a Lion Gabriela Hinojosa ‘13

PRISMS 2013 23

OLAUDAH EQUIANO’S MIDDLE PASSAGE As told by the AP US History Class The moment I set foot on ship I am roughed up from toes to lip It brings about a deep set fear Oh, how I wish I was not here Everyone around me is in chains Experiencing both sorrow and pain The man who sold me for money fakes a smile And promises that the trip will be worthwhile My home is gone, my life is lost; I’m living in despair They treat us just like meat all day, without a care Being on this ship so long, I have a lot to fear Life so rough for all of us, death is less severe I’m relieved to see someone from my own land In this little box neither comfortable nor grand I question these white men, “What you planning to do?”

“We’ll make you our slaves. Now go away, shoo!”

I have so many questions about these men: Where have they come from? Where have they been?

How do these boats go, by wind or by spells?

We cannot escape. Only time will tell.

Shoved onto the deck, we’re treated unfair Crammed altogether, with no air to spare As we sit here with each other, in the stench of poo Others are dying and catching the flu.

I recall the day when, floating on the sea, Those who yearned for death sought escape from slavery Then jumped ship to put an end to their despair Reverberating echoes of confusion in the air,

24 PRISMS 2013

More and more hardships I have to undergo This awful trade has pushed my people to a new low.

Suffocating from the lack of fresh clean air The stench of dead bodies is too hard to bear.

Finally arriving, we pull up to the dock Bound and tethered, we are moved in a flock.

They show no mercy as they invade our private space And roughly shove us onward to an unknown place.

The very first signal – the beat of a drum, And, ready to buy us, the slave owners come.

A mother, a sister, a brother, a friend A family’s bonding has come to an end.

OVERLAPPING OVERLORDS Oscar San Miguel ‘14 Pen & Ink

PRISMS 2013 25

MI QUETZAL La tierra dura bajo mis pies Veo a mi enimigo, el blanco Pedro de Alvarado, conquistador Con su lanza resplandeciendo y su armamento reflejando su odio.

Monta su caballo, me apunta la lanza Y corre hacia mí Miro a mi compañero, mi quetzal.

Veo su pecho verde y miro al mío Unidos podremos ganar Y corre hacia mí Ya esta cerca, pero mi quetzal remonta vuelo ¿Qué haría sin mi quetzal?

Pero mi quetzal le quita los ojos al caballo Y cae Alvarado Cuando cae Alvarado Me tira la lanza La esquivo y le pego con mi mano Pero no me doy cuenta de que la lanza Me ha tocado el pecho Me caigo al suelo y sólo veo oscuridad Me trato de levantar pero no puedo En la oscuridad veo mi pecho ensangrientado Y a mi queztal lentamente bajando hacia mí Dando un trillar de dolor y enojo Cae en mi pecho y trata de levantarme Pero sólo mancha sus plumas con mi sangre Mi quetztal con el pecho rojo como el mío Sonrío y me doy a la oscuridad.

Axel Garcia ‘13

26 PRISMS 2013

MY QUETZAL The hard ground beneath my feet I see my enemy, the white man Pedro de Alvarado, conquistador With his shiny lance and armor Reflecting his hate.

He mounts his horse, points the lance towards me, And comes to me I look at my companion, my quetzal I see his green chest and I look at mine United we can win And he comes to me He’s getting closer, but my quetzal takes flight What shall I do without him?

But my quetzal pecks out the eyes of the horse And Alvarado falls From the ground He throws his lance at me I dodge and hit him with my fist But I don’t realize that his lance Has struck me across the chest I fall to the ground and all I see is darkness I try to rise but I fall again Through the darkness I see my bloodied chest And my quetzal slowly descending towards me Crying out in agony and anger He lands on my chest and tries to lift me But he only stains his feathers with my blood His chest is red like mine I smile and give myself to the darkness.

Axel Garcia ‘13

PRISMS 2013 27

OBITUARY Amanda Mattoon ‘14 Pen & Ink TIME RUNNER I hear your sound, while I wait for you to explode, Like the gun at the beginning of a race.

You are a runner. I can never catch you.

And the race begins.

I hear your footsteps, While I run behind you.

I feel overwhelmed.

I can never catch you!

I don’t have enough time.

Then you run away from my vision And if I lose you, I will never find you again.

Nigel Duniven ‘13

AVENGED SEVENFOLD CONCERT Thunderous sounds greet me Guitars scream a harmony People dance in a dark wave Drums lead the black sea I lose myself In the melodic storm I find myself In a Nirvana of metal music Jonathan Schuitema ‘14

MY FAVORITE NOTES Alex Holtzman '14 and Jackson Witherspoon '15 Moderato

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PRISMS 2013 29

YOU AND I you and i, we’re notes scribbled on a page. the “ands” in common time (one and two and three and four and-) you and i, we waltz across dissonant chords and watch them dissolve into resolution like ice cubes in hot water, leaping from aria to aria, navigating the cold, rocky waters of five four time and modulation in the middle of a piece. you and i, we’re the curves of bass clefs and the way the treble clef wraps itself around the staff eighth notes held together by a common beam together or not at all you and i Amelia Khoo ‘14

30 PRISMS 2013

LA RESPUESTA La felicidad del parque baila alrededor de mí. Estoy rodeada por un mar de rojo y azul. La fragancia de comida llena mi nariz.

Las especias bailan el vals con la carne en perfecta armonía. Hay un calor en el aire, ninguna sola nube en el cielo. De la multitud viene un niño. Sus ojos azules brillan en la luz del sol. Su cabello es dorado como el sol. Su sonrisa llena su cara. ¿Conmigo? ¿Quiere hablar conmigo? Sus labios se mueven. Él espera una respuesta que no puedo ofrecer. Su cara se congela en una mirada fija incómoda.

Su cabello parece sombra. La luz en sus ojos se desvanece a gris. Y desaparece de nuevo en la multitud.

Karina Myers ‘13

THE RESPONSE The happiness of the park dances around me. I am surrounded by a sea of red and blue. The fragrance of food fills my nose. The spices waltz with the meat in perfect harmony. There is a warmth in the air, not a cloud in the sky. Out of the crowd comes a boy. His blue eyes shine in the sunlight. His hair is golden like the sun. His smile fills his face. Me? He wants to talk to me? His lips move. He waits for a response that I cannot answer.

His face freezes in an uncomfortable stare. His hair seems like a shadow.

The light in his eyes fades to gray. And he disappears into the crowd again.

Karina Myers ‘13

PRISMS 2013 31

SHADOW PUPPETS echoes rebound off rock walls, multiplying our soft voices to a rising clamor, as if, instead of just us two, there are hundreds of people sitting in the center of our hollow mountain watching our shadows play upon the wall entranced by our malformed doppelg채ngers what we thought was love was just its shadow as it passed at the mouth of our cave casting its facsimile within by the light of the sun but the sun has set, and the shadows are gone or concealed by the overwhelming dark that crept from its asylum when the threat of the sun had retreated into the depths of the sea we searched for each other in the dark, fingers trailing along warm rocks as we searched for flesh barely more inviting than the stone we used to guide us, gray surface protecting shining quartz buried deep within, rough surface shielding us from lava flowing deep beneath, whose warmth radiated up to us a feather's touch of warmth from the rock, like the faint remembrance of starlight that finally reaches our eyes after travelling, alone, for aeons through not nothing, but the lack of anything

nobody's there even your echoes have abandoned you all all alone our fingers brush we clasp hands eagerly we're not alone after all we sit together leaning against the warm rock eyes closed we can sleep so long as we know someone's there to guard us from the oppressive lack i don't love you but you're a warm contrast to the cool night wind i'll seek refuge with you until the sun is reborn from the mountains Robin Levy ‘13

PRISMS 2013 33

VALENTINE’S DAY You've showered me with roses Lilies, daisies, arranged bouquets Lovely colors to brighten my day Have earned me much said praise But hark! There is one problem Much worse than all the bees Their smell is quite atrocious And the pollen makes me sneeze So you tried again with sweets Cookies, brownies, vanilla cake Freshly baked and always warm Enough to make my belly ache Although I love the gesture I don't mean to be a brat Your cookies are too crunchy All this sugar makes me fat You persisted with stuffed animals Plush giraffes and bears aplenty They're cuddly and comforting I think I’ve got about twenty But there's one teensy-weensy issue They're not what I prefer I had to give them to my sister 'Cause I'm allergic to fake fur

34 PRISMS 2013

So you tried to write a poem Of us in love at first sight Using imagery and metaphors I empathized with your plight However it was too boring Maybe it needs a rewrite I almost fell asleep with it I'd rather read Twilight Thank you for your gifts Could you please take them back The sweets are growing spoiled The flowers are turning black You should know one more thing Before my voice grows hoarse My birthday is in three days So how about a Porsche?

Natalia Layson ‘15

Desiree Harris ‘13

MAÑANA Esencia de la mañana, goteando caliente y negro, más oscuro que el cielo antes del alba, alcanzando manos incorpóreos para agarrar mentes todavía inactivas y arrancarlas de los embragues villanos de hibernación y sueños de letargo Deberá ser la sangre de los dioses, derramada descuidadamente a tierra para que podamos destilarla así nosotros podemos llenar nuestros cuerpos pesados con la ligereza inexorable y fuego ineludible, eléctrico, de divinidad temporal Amargor rico y calor que da vida Mi adicción maravillosa Mi bendición liquida: café, la esencia de la mañana.

Robin Levy ‘13

36 PRISMS 2013

MORNING Essence of morning, dripping warm and black, darker than the predawn sky; reaching incorporeal hands to seize still-dormant minds and rip them away from the villainous clutches of hibernation and dreams of lethargy It must be the blood of the gods, spilled carelessly upon the earth for us to distill, So we may fill our heavy bodies with the inexorable lightness and inescapable, electric fire of temporary divinity Rich bitterness and life-giving warmth, my wondrous addiction, my liquid benediction: coffee, the essence of morning.

Robin Levy’13

PRISMS 2013 37

ABSURDITY Small ears rise Wiggling like the wings of a butterfly, A small tail sways Like reeds in the wind, Legs stubby, short, Eyes like beads, Body Plump like a pillow Round like a ball, Body lines curve and wave, And the nose, the biggest part The hippopotamus small and large The hippopotamus A natural paradox Alessandra Zambrano ‘13

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NIGHTMARE FUEL Michelle Seiwald ‘13 Watercolor & Ink CASPER Danielle Pomeroy ‘13 Photography

WOMAN AND THE SEA Kristine Nguyen ‘14 Acrylic

BANANA BOAT Taylor Griffith ‘15 Photograph

40 PRISMS 2013

RISING TIDE there’s something in the way the rising tide comes crashing in to meet the silent shore the tide so often willingly collides and begs for love with endless, tireless roars he races, rushes, crawls upon his knees for one more sandy touch from the cold shore the shore, with all her glories, does but tease the tide returns with eyes but to adore. for even when a man steps in the sand the tide his heavy footprints do erase and bows again to shore and her demands receding from the sand, he leaves no trace. but when night begins and day adjourns the tide will rise and to the shore return Amelia Khoo ‘14

PRISMS 2013 41

DELPHINA The cadence of the ocean is not really known to me.

A pulsing heart, a laboring lung within the balmy sea?

But the answer can be found within the twinkling eyes of she Who keeps the secret close with her across the balmy sea.

Many a watery mile lies between this Lady and I. And if I were a tern, across it I’d surely fly.

But not blessed with the gift of flight, surely then can I Never with the speed of flight across the ocean fly.

And in the humble garden where I sleep, there is a place Where many a time in slumber I have seen her distant face, But when I wake—my heart so brisk at its marathon pace— She has made a path which I cannot hope to retrace.

And so at dawn I make a plan, starting at the port, Where I can see above my head a flock of ev’ry sort.

Those birds above me screech and wheel, in never-ending sport— But I must find a simpler means of oversea transport.

The sea can yet be conquered (if only just a bit) By craft of wood, most cleverly built, the ocean to outwit; But upon my destination (my fellows having split), Gone with the birds, unconquered One, still leaves me there to sit.

The cadence of the ocean is not really known to me.

A pulsing heart, a laboring lung within the balmy sea?

But the answer can be found within the twinkling eyes of she Who keeps the secret close with her across the endless sea.

Jackson Sundheim ‘15

42 PRISMS 2013

LA PLUMA La pluma, Desgarrada del cuerpo caliente y vivo, Flota cansada, Insignificante, abandonada, y fría Rebotando sobre corrientes invisibles Hundiéndose y emergiendo una y otra vez ¿Para dónde irá?

La lleva el viento, por supuesto, Afirmándola suavemente Sobre el camino diseñado hace mucho tiempo.

Hasta llegar a la arena, Así adorando la costa Con otro tesoro que olvidaron las olas.

Daniela Chaparro ‘14

THE FEATHER The feather, Ripped away from a warm and lively body Floats wearily, Insignificant, abandoned, and cold Bobbing along invisible currents Sinking and emerging again Where will it go?

Where the wind takes it, of course, Softly cradling it On the road it has planned long before.

To the sand it goes, Adorning the coast With another treasure the waves have forgotten.

Daniela Chaparro ‘14

PRISMS 2013 43

PARAÍSO La arena caliente Quemaba mis pies El viento refrescante Besaba mi cara El mar, azul y hermoso Reflejaba las luces del sol Mientras las olas cantaban para mí Descansé en la sombra De una palmera Que bailaba con el viento Eché un vistazo al mar Se ponía el sol en el horizonte Y el cielo brotó rojo y naranja Thong Dinh ‘14

PARADISE The hot sand Burned my feet The refreshing wind Kissed my face The sea, serene light blue Reflected the lights of the sun While the waves sang for me I rested in the shade Of a palm tree That danced with the wind

I looked to the sea As the sun was setting in the horizon And the sky bloomed crimson and orange Thong Dinh ‘14

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BONSAI Rose Lassalle-Klein ‘13 Pastel/ Pen & Ink

REACH FOR THE SKY Alexa Martinez ‘14 Tempera Paint

MASS TRANSPORTATION Danielle Pomeroy ‘13 Photography

STREET LIGHTS Taylor Griffith ‘15 Photography 46 PRISMS 2013

THE NIGHTOSPHERE The gates open wide, swallows me whole.

The endless line steals my soul.

The dusky mountain hides a pit.

A bloodmist cloud floats into it.

Follow it there Is what I must do, For Marceline, for me and you.

Can’t fight this cloud, I’m only mortal.

Got to get back through the portal.

Chaotic evil, show no fear.

It sucks to be an Abadeer.

Amanda Mattoon ‘14

PRISMS 2013 47

MIGHT I WISH? Sun sinks below the horizon Tiny feet dash to the window Where is it? Where is it?

There!

The child sees the first star Hands clasped in anticipation and awe She goes through the motions Sings the song “Star light, star bright…”

Thinks of Peter Pan Warm breath fogging up the window Eyes reflecting the great wonderment Of the heavens and Suddenly the star begins to blink It moves across the sky Then lands at the airport Jenna Vacca ‘13

48 PRISMS 2013

PEACOCK Kristine Nguyen ‘14 Pen & Ink

DRUNKEN HUMMINGBIRD Julia Courville '15

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LA MANTEQUILLA En el estante más alto del refrigerador, En la mantequillera, su trono de cristal, Se sienta el soberano de la comida, La mantequilla: la Reina de la Mesa.

Todos la reverencian, La langosta venera su suavidad.

El pan adora su luz cremosa.

El maíz es esclavo de su delicia viscosa.

Todos saben que la mantequilla Es la Reina de la Mesa.

De su trono en el refrigerador, La jefa de comida mira a sus súbditos.

Con una mirada altiva y una sonrisa orgullosa Mira a sus siervos.

Sabe que Es la Reina de la Cena.

Pero Su Alteza tiene un lado oscuro.

Detrás de su trono, hay un secreto grave.

La Reina de la Mesa, A quien todos adoran, Es la Diabla de la Grasa.

50 PRISMS 2013

Ella seduce a inocentes con su carisma mantecosa, Los tienta con promesas de sabor y placer, Y no entrega nada sino grasa y manteca.

Hace negocios con el tocino, el queso, y la mayonesa.

Los ricos se hacen más ricos Y los gordos se hacen más gordos.

Sabe que esta traidora pilla, nuestra reina Es la Diabla de la Grasa. ¡Pero no somos engañados!

Sabemos la realidad tras esta hipócrita.

Creemos en la fuerza de los vegetales Y los granos sanos.

No seremos cautivos de su cárcel grasosa. ¡Luchemos!

Y luego, todos en el reino de comida sabrán Que la Reina de la Mesa Es la Diabla de la Grasa.

Eric Baskett ‘13

PRISMS 2013 51

BUTTER On the refrigerator’s highest shelf, In her dish, her crystal throne, Sits the ruler of food, Butter: the Queen of the Table.

All revere her, The lobster bows before her softness.

The bread worships her creaminess.

The corn is a servant to her viscous delight.

All know that butter Is the Queen of the Table.

From her refrigerator throne, The master of food watches her subjects.

With a haughty look and a proud smile She watches her slaves.

She knows that she Is the Queen of the Table.

But her Highness has a darker side.

Behind her throne there is a grave secret.

The Queen of the Table, Whom all worship, Is the Demon of Fat. She seduces innocents with her buttery charm, Tempts them with promises of flavor and pleasure, And delivers nothing but grease and lard.

She makes deals with Bacon, Cheese and Mayonnaise.

The rich become richer And the fat become fatter.

Know that this slippery traitor, our queen Is the Demon of Fat. But we are not fooled!

We know the truth behind the hypocrite.

We believe in the strength of vegetables And healthy grains.

We are not prisoners of her greasy cell.

We will fight back!

And then, all in the realm of food will know That the Queen of the Table Is the Demon of Fat. Eric Baskett ‘13

I THOUGHT YOU CARED A boy around seven or eight years old very skinny with a gaunt face and tattered clothing looks at her with big, brown eyes that beg for love.

The girl, a young American, takes a seat across from him and stares fixedly at him.

And underneath all of the pain and suffering she notices an almost imperceptible glimmer of hope in his eyes.

After a while, she sighs deeply, walks toward him with an outstretched hand, And changes the channel.

Desiree Harris ‘13

PRISMS 2013 53

LA PIÑATA Una fiesta llena de comidas fragantes y colores vibrantes gradualmente se oscurecen a negro. Solamente hay el parloteo incesante de los adultos. Los niños gritan con anticipación y excitación. Giro, parece sin parar, en un pie, hasta que estoy puesta en mi lugar y puedo empezar. Mis mejillas se enrojecen, mis manos transpiradas afirman el bate mientras mis pies agarran la tierra para darme equilibrio. Un sufrimiento tan raro y poco claro, pienso, pero las risas continúan. Desubicado, tiro mi bate sin dirección en la oscuridad. Con el silbido del bate, finalmente pego algo entre la oscuridad. Mi triunfo pequeňo manda una aclamación con el público, y sonrío. Otra vez, ¡un golpe exitoso! Oigo continuadas “uus” y “aas” cuándo erro mi tiro nervioso. Un rato después, tiro el golpe más poderoso que podría crear con mi cuerpo pequeño. Inmediatamente, un grito unánime viene de todos los niños y una cascada de dulces ruidosos llegan al pasto.

Manos desesperadas rozan mis pies buscando la delicia, empujando uno al otro y respirando con dificultad. Los ruidos de los dulces desaparecen y todavía está oscuro. ¡No puedo quitar esta venda de mis ojos!

Feliz cumpleaños…

Daniela Chaparro ‘14 THE PIÑATA A party filled with fragrant foods and vibrant colors fades to black. Only the adults’ incessant chatter is heard. Children shriek with anticipation and excitement. I spin, seemingly without end, on one foot, until I am placed at my starting point. My cheeks flush, my sweaty palms grasp the bat while my feet try to grip the earth for some, if any, balance. A suffering so rare and confusing, I think, but the laughter goes on. Discombobulated, I swing without direction into the dark.

With the whistling of my bat, I finally hit something amidst the darkness. My little victory sends cheers across the crowd, and I smile. Again, another successful blow! Continuous “oohs” and “aahs” ripple through the group when my flustered strike misses. Then I wind up and take the most prodigious and powerful swing my small frame can bear. Almost immediately, a unanimous shriek escapes from all the children as a crinkling waterfall of sweets hits the grass. Hands graze my feet in desperate search for their share, pushing each other and breathing hard.

The crinkling vanishes to nothing, and it is still dark. I cannot remove this blindfold from my eyes!

Happy Birthday...

Daniela Chaparro ‘14

MY HOUSE Remember that great place up on the hill With lots of food And nice warm beds Remember all the books And movies that lined the walls And the smooth jazz music that filled the halls?

Remember how it sheltered us from the cold, wet rain Or how it kept out all of the bad guys And protected us every single day?

Remember the unfinished tree house And the piano that we never played Or all the smudges and stains left over from our younger days?

I remember.

It was the best house ever.

Desiree Harris ‘13

FORGOTTEN I come upon a house A dull, brown house No life, no vibrancy Except a flickering light in the living room Walking through the garden covered in weeds I see roses everywhere The rose I planted many years ago Now a dull, green stem I enter the house and walk to the kitchen Where I once sat and ate eggs with soy sauce I unload the groceries and begin to cook I see her Walking slowly and carefully Her feeble legs moving her forward “Hello, Poh-poh. How are you?”

“Fine,” she says A pause…

“Have you seen Karina?”

Karina Myers ‘13

THESE STAIRS These are the stairs Startling crimson Carefully cropped and preened Gleaming banister Ascending These are the stairs where souls have trod Where memories resound with every step Of tiny feet and smaller hands Conquering each step with sheer determination Rolling onto all fours And up again These are the stairs where children laughed And got rug burn And slid down railings without a care in the world And hid at the top to tell secrets Where each step was like a game Where parents cautioned And lollipops dropped And all was clean again by morning Here is where they stood for their pictures Even the brand new puppy A birthday, a holiday, a party Here is where the music rang To echo through the halls On this step they sat and rocked their child to sleep Crooning their lullabies With the weight of two people they labored upstairs To place the child safely in bed at last

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If only these stairs could speak Of the many paths traveled Up, down, and up again The long nights The busy nights The cold nights When snow-soaked shoes dusted these steps with dew These are the stairs where they said farewell Where they sat in anticipation Then carefully ascended First left, then right Frail hand on railing They are the stairs now layered with dust That creak occasionally But still they stand And remain steadfast Moaning but never complaining They hold the hopes and prayers of hundreds of years in their fibers Never looking down Always leading back Ascending Jenna Vacca ‘13

PRISMS 2013 57

BRICK BY BRICK Danielle Pomeroy ‘13 Pencil

ADIÓS

GOODBYE

Recuerdo su prolongado abrazo

I remember his long hug

Recuerdo sus ojos Y como estaban llenos de lágrimas Recuerdo su voz temblorosa Cuando me dijo que tenía que irse Nunca puedo olvidar El día cuando mi papá Dijo adiós Lydia Hall ‘14

I remember his eyes And how they were full of tears I remember his voice trembling When he told me he had to go I will never forget The day my dad Said goodbye Lydia Hall ‘14

MEMORIES The late August sun rested on my lap Clouds of cotton surfed the blue sky I laid my head on the Santa Cruz sand As the ocean’s hands grabbed the white shore The arms of time made full circles Gentle wind danced over the tranquil land The shimmering sea twinkled like a million chandeliers As black wings floated across the iridescent dusk In my memory, life was as lovely as the beach Ryann Malicdem ‘14

THE WAVES OF NEW JERSEY I wake up To the sound of the waves, Steady. Soft. A new day.

The beach. Sand like daggers in my feet.

The ocean, green and blue. A forest of water.

The sun, pricking my skin Like a hornet’s sting Late in the night, on the beach, I am there. Alone, but not lonely.

A paper boat called “Youth” Glides on top of the waves, Steady, soft.

William Keane ‘14

PRISMS 2013 59

MI ANCLA

MY ANCHOR

Mi Ancla fuerte, omnipotente aguanta la furia del océano Mi emblema de hierro mi gracia salvadora lucha contra las olas enojadas Mi guardián silencioso con mi fe interminable Me abraza en la tormenta Mi Ancla de confianza Me dirijo hacia ti Cuando la vida es el mar

My Anchor strong, gallant withstands the ocean’s rage My iron emblem my saving grace fights the angry waves My silent guardian with my endless faith Hugs me in a storm My trusted Anchor I turn to you When life is the sea

Ryann Malicdem ‘14

Ryann Malicdem ‘14

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60 PRISMS 2013

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NEVER ONE WITHOUT THE OTHER Rise and fall, Rising only to fall, Again, one more time, A pattern, A pattern of waves Crash on the beaches of Cancún And retreat into the sea Only to rise and to fall Again, one more time, A pattern A pattern of life, Always rising, Always falling, Never the rise Without the fall, Like the waves in Cancún Life will rise and fall, Again, one more time, A pattern, A pattern of waves, A pattern of life.

Alessandra Zambrano ‘13

STILL LIFE Jackson Sundheim ‘15 Charcoal & White Conte Crayon

CINQUE TERRE El sol caluroso Nos ofrece su poder dorado Mientras vagamos a través del camino Polvoriento e interminable.

CINQUE TERRE El horizonte que une el cielo y el mar Se queda en la distancia The blistering hot sun Por fin alcanzamos las aguas refrescantes Offers us its golden power Un refugio para nuestros pies.

Daniela Chaparro ‘14

As we meander through The endless dirt road.

The horizon where the sea and sky meet Remains in the near distance We finally reach the refreshing waters A refuge for our feet.

Daniela Chaparro ‘14

CAMOUFLAGE The peaceful desert Deceptively safe Yet hiding many secrets Every October I traveled towards peace To witness the secrets Hungry coyotes howled Solitary snakes slithered And the cacti thrust their thorns Yes, I remember the desert I love it and all it hides For the desert is my oasis Dalton Green ‘14

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RUSIA Misteriosa y arrogante Inmensa y majestuosa RUSSIA El viento más frío Que el hielo del cielo Mysterious and arrogant El agua de tus ríos más limpia Immense and majestic Que la sangre The wind is colder Que corre dentro de los animales salvajes Than ice from the heavens De tu tierra The water of your rivers is cleaner Las olas de tu mar Than the blood Llevan las cargas de tu gente That runs through the wild animals Rusia Of your land Violenta The waves of your sea Poderosa Wash away the burdens of your people Brian Pérez ‘13

Russia Violent Powerful

Brian Perez ‘13

ROSIE AND LICORICE Kohl Grunt ‘15 Scratchboard

PEZ SOLO EN ACUARIO Soy prisionero del vidrio.

Una joya rodeada de la tristeza.

Las burbujas roban el aire Y me quedo sin alma.

Las plantas, altas y esbeltas, Me abrazan. El buzo me reconoce y me saluda.

El baúl con tesoro opaco Es robado por piratas.

Soy prisionero de la soledad.

Sin amigos, sin compañía, sin felicidad.

Sueño con el océano, grande y salado, Sin ninguna frontera, Libre.

Amigos con escamas de todos los colores Del arco iris.

Sueño que nunca me dejen, Pero después se van, como olas del mar.

Soy prisionero del no saber, Reducido a poca inteligencia y sabiduría.

A veces me miro en el reflejo, Pero no me conozco.

Kimberly González ‘14

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LONE FISH IN THE AQUARIUM I am a prisoner of the glass.

A jewel surrounded by gloominess.

Bubbles steal air And I’m left without a soul.

The plants, long and slender, Hug me. The diver recognizes me and waves.

The trunk with pale treasure Is robbed by pirates.

I am a prisoner of solitude.

Without friends, without company, without happiness.

I dream of the ocean, grand and salty, Without borders, Free.

Friends with scales the colors Of the rainbow.

I dream that they will never leave me, But they do anyway, like ocean waves.

I am a prisoner of not knowing, Reduced to little intelligence and wisdom.

Sometimes I look at my reflection, But I don’t recognize myself.

Kimberly Gonzalez ‘14

PRISMS 2013 65

EL CARACOL El caracol diminuto emerge de su escondite y Tímidamente se desliza sobre la acera Lentamente, sudando, dejando un camino de baba.

De repente, Los rayos del sol salen Y bendice el mundo con su luz luminosa Y su efusión acogedora.

El caracol anhela una sombra, Un refugio de la intensidad del sol.

De pronto, Una oscuridad lo envuelve Y se siente tranquilo.

Se acomoda pero, Repentinamente, La oscuridad se hace más intensa.

El zapato se acerca y hace contacto con la acera Aplasta la cascara crujiente con un gran ¡Crac!

Dejando los restos para Pudrirse en la intensidad del sol.

Isabela Reid LA MARIPOSA Mariposa brillante Vuela sobre el verde de las praderas Bajo el arco iris, sobre la rosa Donde le gusta descansar Vuela como una hoja en el viento Bellos colores bajo el cielo azul Movimientos silenciosos de alas Susurrando en el jardín Bianca de la Cruz ’15

66 PRISMS 2013

THE SNAIL The little snail emerges from hiding and Timidly slithers on the sidewalk Slowly, sweating, leaving a trail of slime.

Suddenly, The sun’s rays come out And bless the world with their luminous light And comfortable warmth.

The snail yearns for a shadow, A refuge from the intensity of the sun.

Suddenly, Darkness surrounds him And he feels peaceful.

He gets comfortable but Suddenly, The darkness becomes more intense.

The shoes get closer and make contact with the sidewalk Crushing the crunchy shell with a loud Crack!

Leaving the remains to Rot in the intense heat of the sun.

Isabela Reid ‘14 THE BUTTERFLY Bright butterfly Flies over the green of the meadow Under the rainbow, atop the rose Where it likes to rest It flies like a leaf in the wind Beautiful colors under the blue sky Silent movement of wings Whispering in the garden Bianca de la Cruz ‘15

PRISMS 2013 67

THE LITTLE BIRD He feels as though he has failed Like a bird who can’t fly And falls to the ground from the nest His wings are not yet ready He looks over to see the others How swiftly they move How they have harmonized with the wind He never leaves the battle The passion within his soul fuels his ambition His want, his desire worn on his sleeve He fights for his very heart inside the ring that is life Defeat after defeat he continues to rise The small ember within his soul grows Until it burns white hot like the sun He fails and fails yetHe gets stronger and stronger The little bird has grown With failure as his ally The eagle now soars Emilio Sanchez ‘14

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WATER’S TOUCH Taylor Griffith ‘15 Photography

LOOKING FOR ULYSSES My grandpa's tolerance level is, quite honestly, pretty low. He gets frustrated with people, systems, "the world nowadays," etc. This does not mean that he is an introverted, retired senior who goes to the weekly bingo nights at the local senior center. On the contrary, my grandpa cannot stay still. He loves to travel, and he always has. He has always viewed travel as essential because it exposes us to different people, cultures, history, music, literature, and more. His generosity is also an admirable trait; he has financially supported his brothers and sisters, good family friends, and of course, our close immediate family through tough times. This combination of traits allows for a world traveler who is willing to take anyone (well, grandchildren, at least) practically anywhere (that is, anywhere you can find a McDonald's).

When I visited Ireland for the first time over the summer with my grandpa, I quickly became acquainted with the Irish author James Joyce, both his life and his works.

My grandpa had visited Ireland many times before, so he served as an excellent tour guide...most of the time.

One day, my grandpa decided he wanted to visit the Martello Tower featured in Joyce's Ulysses. I wasn't too thrilled since I knew practically nothing about the novel, let alone a place from the novel. Nevertheless, I didn't have a choice, and I trusted that my grandpa would take me to informative and interesting places. After looking through numerous pamphlets and guide books, he asked the ticket seller at the train station to confirm that Sandymount was the correct place to go.

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The ticket seller looked irritated and tired, and you could tell he hated his job. He gruffly replied "Yes." We climbed onto the train and arrived in the small beachside town of Sandymount about 45 minutes later.

We got off the train and asked an elderly gentleman if he could direct us to the Martello Tower, assuming that most local folks would know about it, it being an important site in such a masterpiece of a novel. The gentleman looked a little confused, but pointed in a direction. We approached the tower, but didn't see an entrance or anything that looked like a gift shop or museum. We were extremely confused...was it closed? Was this the right place? Since neither of us had a cell phone to call the museum, we had to walk to the nearest gas station and ask if we could use their phone (I had the phone number in my purse). After calling the museum, they told us that yes, it was open, but it was located in Sandycove, not Sandymount. It took everything in me not to laugh because my grandpa truly looked frustrated. After quite a lot of grumbling from my grandpa, hopping back onto the train, and arriving at the correct Martello Tower in Sandycove, we learned that there were several, about 50, Martello Towers all along the east coast of Ireland. I asked my grandpa if he knew this, and he replied "Me? Does it look like I know what I'm doing?"

Thanks grandpa. I'll make sure to tell my mom what a responsible tour guide you are!

Isabela Reid ‘14

PRISMS 2013 71

EL PAÍS DE LA ETERNA PRIMAVERA Guatemala, el país de la eterna primavera donde las montañas, cubiertas por las más exquisitas flores salvajes, acompañadas por el más dulce trinar de las aves, extiende una invitación a todos sus habitantes a cuidar de esa hermosura natural que Dios les dio.

Tristemente, cada mañana el cielo y el sol se oscurecen con el denso humo provocado por la quema inconsciente de la basura acumulada en los hogares más pobres del país de la eterna primavera.

Pero manteniendo viva la esperanza, cada mañana, la monja blanca con todo su resplandor, abre sus pétalos diciendo,“Gracias por la vida!”

Y el Quetzal, remontando su vuelo más que el cóndor y el águila real, eleva sus alas al cielo, saludando a Guatemala y su nombre inmortal.

Axel Garcia ‘13

72 PRISMS 2013

THE LAND OF ETERNAL SPRING Guatemala, the land of eternal spring where the mountains, covered by the most exquisite wild flowers, accompanied by the sweetest chirping of birds, extend an invitation to all to take care of the natural beauty that God gave them.

Sadly, every morning the sky and the sun are darkened by the dense smoke caused by the unconscious burning of garbage accumulated in the poorest households in the country of eternal spring.

But keeping hope alive each morning la monja blanca in full bloom opens its petals saying, “Thank you for the gift of life!”

And the Quetzal, flying higher than the condor and the royal eagle, opens his wings to the sky, saluting Guatemala and its immortal name.

Axel Garcia ‘13

PRISMS 2013 73

METAL When I was born they poured molten metal down my throat that I might have a silver tongue, to charm and delight and deceive My hair they crafted from copper pulling it to untold lengths of the finest wire that glows like fire in the light of the sun to draw you in with outstretched fingers, yearning to touch They dripped mercury in my eyes liquid silver that shimmers like moonlight and darts to avoid your searching gaze But my skin, my flesh is not this cold, hard metal my flesh is warm amber, all honey and fragility, already laced with spiderweb cracks, like threads that might hold me together, mapping my every flaw and foible, all weaknesses displayed with gentle care Robin Levy ‘13

74 PRISMS 2013

REPAIR Rose Lassalle-Klein ‘13 Acrylic

LAKE MERRITT STAMPS Mariana Garibay ‘13 Digital Art

PRISMS 2013 75

SUNSET IN ALAMEDA Amy Wang ‘15 Watercolor

WISH Andrew Leong ‘14 Photography

AUTUMN AURA Jonathan Schuitema '14

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WINTER’S TOUCH Pale light peeking through frost-coated leaves Unbroken silence and white powdered scene Winter chill blowing through the frigid air Flurries flying round and round without care Snowflakes falling along with the breeze Little white fairies flying through the trees Icicles shine and shimmer with grace Skaters glide across the frozen lake’s face With the soft fall of late night snow Pearly flowers of frost form on the window Rachel Falkner ‘13

PRISMS 2013 77 ©

FIREFLY catch the stars before they catch you burn your palms as you cup them in your hands fingers squeezed tight so as not to spill, but transfixed by the inevitable leak of prismatic yellow starlight from between your fingers dripping from the gaps of your hand to spatter upon every surface, while its comrades continue their search for release, fluttering against your rough palms that seal their furor within. so powerful, oh so powerful, yet defeated by simple bones and skin Robin Levy ‘13 SOLITARY Jackson Sundheim ‘15 Photography

78 PRISMS 2013

CONTRIBUTORS ALEXANDRA AUBRY reflects on her reflection in her self portrait. She considers herself steadfast yet flexible, much like a palm tree weathering a storm.

ERIC BASKETT’s “La mantequilla” satirizes the temptation of butter, a contrast between its melt-in your-mouth taste and clogger of arteries. Despite what he says, he eats butter regularly. If he were a tree, he would be a lepidodendron, an extinct genus of ancient treelike mosses from the Carboniferous Period. Only he can pronounce these long words.

PRISMS staff member DANIELA CHAPARRO was inspired by her travels to Europe to write “Cinque Terre.” Because she loves to laugh, she would like to be a willow tree just so she can tickle people with her branches.

JULIA COURVILLE’s musical composition depicts a drunken hummingbird in the high, fast trilling notes of the flute. Those hummingbirds sure must love pyracantha berries!

BIANCA DE LA CRUZ is inspired by the beauty of nature. If she could be any tree, she would be a willow tree because she loves how stunning and mystical the tree looks with its hanging branches.

A lover of maple syrup, THONG DINH would love to be a maple tree so he could top his own pancakes. An artist all around, Thong loves playing music and singing in addition to writing poetry.

PRISMS staff member NIGEL DUNIVEN can’t believe how fast time flies. He balances academics with leadership roles as a member of CMEB and president of the Sociedad Honoraria Hispánica.

GRACE FALKNER was inspired by rowing at night on the estuary. When she is not at crew, she is either drawing or reading in her room.

PRISMS staff member RACHEL FALKNER loves to read, dance and perform in musicals.

If she were a tree, she would be a fully decked out Christmas tree, looking out the window at the falling snow.

AXEL GARCÍA primarily found his poetic creativity through thoughts of his home country of Guatemala and his longing to return. Naturally, with this burning patriotism, Axel would choose to be a cieba, the national tree of Guatemala.

We propose that MARIANA GARIBAY’s stamp design of Lake Merritt be adopted by the US Postal Service. Let’s put Oakland on the map!

Inspired by the serenity and quiet of the night, CAROLINA GUADALUPE GONZÁLEZ wrote “Mi camino.” This inspiration also drives her to play marimba and compose her own music.

A self-described wallflower of sorts, JANET GONZALEZ would rather express herself through writing than speaking. If she could be a tree, she would be a small, unknown one so people would pass right by her, yet she would get to experience everything around her.

KIMBERLEY GONZALEZ wrote “Sólo un niño” after seeing the loneliness and poverty in the lives of children all over the world. Posessing her own personal strength and groundedness, she relates most to an oak tree.

DALTON GREEN loves many things, from rock music to biscuits and gravy. His submission “Camouflage” was inspired by his fond memories of the desert.

TAYLOR GRIFFITH’s photographer’s eye is drawn to nature. Not surprisingly, he loves to swim under the waves and watch time go by. Hopefully not too long from under water.

KOHL GRUNT is a sophomore on the varsity volleyball team. He has been dubbed the White Mamba by his teammates.

LYDIA HALL is a huge fan of Edgar Allan Poe and Jane Austen. She can see herself as an apple tree - perhaps with Jane Austen writing a romance novel beneath her leaves.

PRISMS Layout Editor DESIREÉ HARRIS contributed several poems to this year’s magazine, and was inspired by her home and graffiti art. Because she likes apples, she would choose to be an apple tree. And an apple a day keeps the doctor away.

GABRIELA HINOJOSA’s “El peligro” was inspired by her experiences living in Oakland.

She has remained a strong example to others living in Oakland, just as a redwood possesses strength and determination.

ALEX HOLTZMAN’s “favorite notes” signify the journey taken to achieve simple, musical, perfect satisfaction. They remind him of water and simple, raw elements. He co-wrote this piece when life was flowing well. He has been composing music for piano and guitar for almost 4 years and would like to be a professional musician.

An East Coast native, WILL KEANE was inspired by the nostalgic memories he has of the Jersey Shore and family reunions there. The simplicity and life in the heart of a pine tree are inspiring to him.

PRISMS Literary Editor AMELIA KHOO subconsciously assigns personalities to musical chords: minor chords are evil, major are good. An accomplished musician, she plays piano and loves to sing. Gingko trees enthrall her - they are so regal, serene and lovely in autumn.

An ubiquitous presence on campus, PRISMS staff member ROSE LASSALLE-KLEIN is mesmerized by big words like refraction. Check out “Repair.”

PRISMS staff member NATALIA LAYSON had a ball poking fun at love in her poem “Valentine’s Day.” ANDREW LEONG seeks out a lot of eclectic music and film. His photo “Wish” was born during a sad and rainy walk in Yosemite Valley.

SJND’s very own Poet Laureate, ROBIN LEVY, is an enigma who listens to the beat of her own drum. A caffeine fiend, coffee provides her the liquid energy to write magnificent poetic creations.

RYANN MALICDEM has a special appreciation of the sea after his grandfather served in the Navy. Ryann developed a trust in God, seeing Him as using the sea as a symbol of Ryann’s own life, and this is expressed in his poem, “Mi ancla.”

ALEXA MARTINEZ has always been fascinated by clouds, and this fascination inspired her piece “Reach for the Sky”. Because they are often the heart of the forest, she would be a redwood.

MARIBELLE MARTINEZ’s musical composition “Bliss in Every Sip” sounds like her drinking Dr. Pepper, her favorite soda. Besides drums, she plays guitar and bass and is currently learning alto saxophone.

AMANDA MATTOON’s tongue-in-cheek “Nightosphere” was inspired by the episode “Return of the Nightosphere” from Adventure Time. A chocoholic, Amanda would be a vampire if blood were chocolate.

KARINA MYERS wrote “Forgotten” as a way to pay homage to her grandmother who has Alzheimer’s. In the future, she would like to be a doctor, and, if she were given the chance, she would be a graceful willow tree.

KRISTINE NGUYEN may be confused about life, but her “Peacock” shows its complexity. She loves cherry trees in bloom.

Artist CHRISTOPHER OBEREMPT’s piece “Remembrance” was inspired by a family friend and member of the Veterans community who recently passed away. He would be a redwood tree because of their strong and regal nature.

JUSTIN PASSION has a passion for art.

Despite not being even the slightest bit Russian, BRIAN PEREZ wrote “Russia” after he watched a film about it. If given the chance, he would take a leaf out of Shel Silverstein’s book and be The Giving Tree.

PRISMS Art Editor DANIELLE POMEROY will bend over backwards to find new perspectives. Like a maple tree, she loves to share her sweetness through her art and musical talent.

ISABELA REID’s grandfather’s kind heart drove her to write her little memoir. This pianoplaying PRISMS Spanish Editor would like to be a dainty and beautiful cherry tree in another life.

CARLOS RODRIGUEZ’s “Ode to the Book” started as a poem about a pencil. One never knows where the mind will wander to. A camera? A computer?

JOSHEN RUELOS’ self portrait captures his personality. If he could be a tree, he would be a pine because it grows very tall, lives long, smells - well, like pine - and never loses its color.

EMILIO SANCHEZ intends to inspire others. Hoping to maintain his calm attitude, he wishes to be a relaxed palm tree swaying in the wind with a little bird in his fronds.

Animation fascinates OSCAR SAN MIGUEL. His favorite tree is the spiked yucca brevifolia - yuc! yuk! ouch!

A native-born Russian, JONATHAN SCHUITEMA is a self-taught guitarist with a passion for music and engineering. After having one of the best experiences of his life at an Avenged Sevenfold concert, Jonathan was inspired by his love of the band and their music to write his poem. His composition, “Autumn Aura” was inspired by his love of contemporary jazz; its title comes from his fascination with the transition between the blistering heat of summer and the brisk coldness of fall. He plans to continue exploring jazz not only on bass but also on guitar and piano.

MICHELLE SEIWALD loves to go Where the Wild Things Are. She would like to be eaten by giraffes... that is, if she were an acacia tree.

PRISMS staff member JACKSON SUNDHEIM knows how to find beauty in everything, as evidenced by his photography and poem “Delphina.” He says that art comes from the mind, not from the classroom.

PRISMS Editor-in-Chief JENNA VACCA loves to make people laugh and smile with her upbeat attitude. Her poem, “These Stairs” is the first poem she has specifically written about her family. When she was little, she used to wish she lived with Peter Pan in Neverland.

AMY WANG was inspired by the sunset at the beach. She took pictures of the breathtaking view when her cousins visited from China. She then decided to paint it.

JACKSON WITHERSPOON thinks that only he and his collaborator, Alex Holtzman, could be famous for playing a piece such as “My Favorite Notes,” especially in venues like the Greek Theater and the Fox Theater.

ALESSANDRA ZAMBRANO derives her creativity from the world around her. Balancing her loves of art, music, and dance, she chooses to be a willow tree for its grace and flexibility.

82 PRISMS 2013

STAR SOCIETY OF CREATIVE WRITERS The Star Society of Creative Writers is a privileged membership organization of the SJND community. Membership is offered to students, alumni, and faculty whose creative writing has been published or has won an excellence award outside this community.

Students must also have been published in PRISMS. Each member recieves a star pin to wear at graduation.

Caroline Abellar ‘04* Jared Alokozai ‘11 Lucy Álvarez ‘05 Ernesto Arévalo ‘10 Jose Ávalos ‘08 Yesenia Baires ‘09 Fernando Barragán ‘12 Michelle Bautista ‘93 Jacqueline Belloso ‘13 Jessica Blomstrom ‘06 Ariana Braga ‘10 Tia Brown ‘11 Zoë Byrne ‘06 Danielle Campbell ‘06 Natalya D. Caraballo ‘07 Crystal Carrillo ‘12 Cynthia Carrillo ‘08 Kedron Diane Casteen ‘06 Tracy Castillo ‘10 Natasha Chacón ‘06 Daniela Chaparro ‘14 Sophia Chaparro ‘09 Claire Connacher ‘11 Ann Dam ‘06 Oliver Dam ‘10 Jo Anne C. Dantoc ‘05 Justine C. Dantoc ‘07 Omar de la Cruz ‘11 Natalie De Leon ‘07 Danielle Diaz ‘05 Justin Dimig ‘06 Thong Dinh ‘14 Emily Dobrzanowski ‘10 Christopher Duong ‘10 Crystal Estrada ‘12 Rachel Falkner ‘13 Jackie Favela ‘06

Faculty and Staff:

*Charter Members

Diego Flores ‘06 Gabriel Flores ‘10 Martín Franco ‘08 Tia Gangopadhyay ‘11 Genora Givens ‘09 Guadalupe Carolina González ‘13 Kimberly González ‘14 Rebecca González ‘12 Dalton Green ‘14 Casey Greer ‘12 Alyxandria Guzmán ‘07 Desiree Harris ‘13 Patricia Jimenez ‘09 Jonathan Kachiu ‘10 Amelia Khoo ‘14 Kate Lassalle-Klein ‘12 Robin Levy ‘13 Andrea Lino ‘04 Gabriela Lippi ‘08 Marisela Loza ‘07 Danielle Maddix ‘08 Ryann Malicdem ‘14 Megan Manning ‘10 Peter Matarrese ‘06 Amanda Matoon ‘14 Chris McClintock ‘10 Allison Meins ‘09 Priscilla Mena ‘05 Rocío Molina ‘08 Annie Mooney ‘11 Joanna Mooney ‘06 Teresa Mooney ‘09 Jerónimo Mora ‘11 Martin Moreno ‘07 Paulani Mui ‘06 Allegra O’ Donoghue ‘04* Mary Onglatco ‘11

Susan Beck* Martha Carpenter Dempsey Lynn Kane Meza* Elizabeth Peláez Norris* Robert Williams

Kim Owens ‘05* Tiffany Palmer ‘11 Jeremy Poggio ‘04* Christany Poggio ‘07 Michael Priest ‘05* Jennifer Quintanilla ‘06 Christian Ramos ‘05 Jordan Rausse ‘12 Jessica Reader ‘05 Barry Reed ‘44 Isabela Reid ‘14 Katherine Riley ‘10 Megan Riley ‘11 Renato Rocha ‘07 César San Miguel ‘11 Kenn Scullin ‘44 Lily Smith ‘09 Gabrielle Soria ‘06* Sarah Su ‘10 Jesse Swatling-Holcomb ‘09 Lorena Tabares ‘08 Allison Tuazon ‘11 Imani Todd ‘12 Sara Torres ‘04 Nneka Umeh ‘08 Jenna Vacca ‘13 Kelley Villa ‘10 Mirella Villalpando ‘09 Alexander Weyand ‘01 Harrison Wilkes ‘03 Michael Williams ‘02 Norman Xie ‘09 Jessica Yalung ‘05* Alessandra Zambrano ‘13 Francesca Zambrano ‘10 Dulce Zamora ‘89

AWARDS

PRISMS 2012

*First Place with Special Merit American Scholastic Press Association

PRISMS 2011

*Excellence Award National Council of Teachers of English *First Place with Special Merit American Scholastic Press Association

PRISMS 2010

*Excellence Award National Council of Teachers of English *First Place with Special Merit American Scholastic Press Association

PRISMS 2009

*Superior-Considered for Highest Award Finalist National Council of Teachers of English *First Place with Special Merit American Scholastic Press Association

PRISMS 2005 2003

*Most Outstanding Private School Literary-Art Magazine of the Year *First Place with Special Merit American Scholastic Press Association

PRISMS 2008 2007 2006 2004 2002

*First Place with Special Merit American Scholastic Press Association

PRISMS 2000 1999 1998 1996

*First Place Award American Scholastic Press Association

PRISMS 1997

*Bronze Award for Outstanding Achievement *Merlyn’s Pen: The National Magazine of Student Writing