The Mini Marque | Volume XV

Mini Marque

volume XV

The Mini Marque St. Mark’s School of Texas 10600 Preston Road Dallas, Texas 75230 www.smtexas.org 214.346.8311

OF

BOOK MANY THINGS A There are many things that this book could be Of fishes in a sunless sea Of soaring flights on wings of gold A book of great treasure Of riches untold

Of starships sailing through the night Of lords and kings who rule with might Of wizards and witches, of destinies foretold A book of adventurers In lost cities of old This is a book of your mind Who knows what you could find inside?

Jackson Singhal | 7

1 MM

FIlm Noir Inspired by the aesthetic of golden age Hollywood,

The Storm

by Alam Alidina, Henry McElhaney, and Ryan Park | 6 The bitter cold and biting wind tore at their backs, their skins blistered with frostbite, and the rough and tumultuous seas had weakened their once mighty craft.

Captain Karl Lukerstien found himself wishing that he had never set off on this doomed exploration.

Soon after they had set out, the convicts on board had attacked the crew, and in the fight that followed, Lukerstien’s fingers had been cut off and he had lost a lot of blood before the convicts were apprehended. Several of the crew had died from their wounds. Soon after, a terrible storm had hit the craft and they had lost most of their supplies and the ship had been thrown off course; now they were drifting hundreds of miles past the reach of civilization, completely at the mercy of the sea.

The cry of “Land ho, land ho” shook him out of his reverie. What was left of his tired, hungry crew limped and trotted to the front of the ship. Lukerstien saw an icy mass in the distance; it would be as good a place as any to repair the ship and keep exploring. He gave the order to land, and watched as his crew landed the boat, set up tents, and readied themselves for sleep.

He, too, got some rest, but was awakened in the middle of the night by a whistling sound. He looked up and saw a storm approaching in the in the distance. Lukerstien tried to wake up his crew, but he was too late. Their unheard screams came to an abrupt halt when they were swept into the icy sea.

3 MM

Photo by

Kamal Mamdani | 8

Jason Peng | 8

And I didn’t even say, “Sorry”

4 MM

t

His feet are bare And he wears almost no clothes Despite the cold rain coming down from the heavens.

His face is aged And his body is bony As if he hadn’t eaten for days.

Because what comes out Is really just a hoarse whisper.

And when he opens his mouth again I see that his teeth Are black and deteriorating And there are only few left.

Yet he still sits on the side of the road And holds out his hand With wild begging eyes.

His arm is skinny and black Like a thin twig on the verge of breaking.

People pass by but don’t help And shake their heads at the sight.

My heart aches At the sight Of this particular poor fellow.

I walk up to him, Searching my pockets for change.

His face lights up with hope And he clasps my hand with thanks.

A man stops before him And spits in front of his feet Before walking away Under an umbrella.

Yet the man sitting down Has nowhere to go And no umbrella to hide from the pouring rain.

But when I pull the other hand Out of my pocket There’s nothing inside it And I have no money.

His lets go of my hands And sits back down, Weary and tired of begging.

His body shivers And he wraps his arms around him As he tries to salvage The last of his body heat.

Then he opens his mouth wide And tries to speak And nobody hears him.

And the truth is He never had a chance to prove himself.

He was born a poor boy And miserable all his life.

And all he was destined for Since the beginning Was roadside begging.

As I walk away From his regretful face I realize that life Really is unfair.

And when I look back at him He’s begging again But is ignored, as usual.

5 MM

An ancient dance of time The dancers all in a line Bright colors shine on their skin Dressed as horses, not as men The echo of a single drum As everybody starts to hum Intricate patterns, spins, and twirls The metal on their chest like pearls The only other sound is steps As the rhythm is constantly kept The audience stands in awe For their dance has just begun

A NATIVE DANCE

Lee Schlosser

6 MM

by Lee Schlosser | 7

AYUSH SAHA| 8

7 MM

Brendan Goldaber | 7 and OdrAn Fitzgerald | 7

Grass Gabe Bankston | 8

8 MM

The cow grazes in the little pasture, Chewing and chewing its short life away, But grass does please her tongue and fill her gut, Milk and Meat the purpose of this one cow, She’ll keep milk in the cups or meat on plates, She just keeps chewing unaware of death, Oblivious to her imminent end, The farmer watches the herd in quiet, Thinking always thinking about life about death, His life is their death their life is his death, He’ll keep feeding and they’ll keep fattening, It’ll be a good year for the small farm, And a bad one for the cows they don’t know, It’s a short life It’s also a good life.

THE STORM

Sai Thirunagari | 6 I stood outside in the fresh air, as the wind blew on my hair.

A rabbit dashed away, as the shrubs would move and sway.

Water showered on me, and suddenly I felt lonely.

The hurricane’s storm would arrive, and nothing in that land would ever thrive.

Ryan RahimizAdeh (Top) | 6 Spencer Allan (Bottom) | 8

9 MM

The mindless cramming, The stress, And the pressure.

From the streets of Ancient Greece, To all those geometric proofs.

What’s the point of it all?

From the linguistics of a lost language, To the beginning of a Solar System.

What’s the point of it all?

It started with just three letters, A, B, and C,

10 MM

A B C

And now it’s grown so much more.

It’s hard to know why we learn all these dates And random formulas.

Why we learn of all these people from ages past, And why we learn of all these principles proven through time.

We hardly ever use them in day-to-day life.

It seems, During the years, That the most important thing we learn, Is just, A, B, and C.

However, The way it seems, Is an illusion of the way it truly is.

This history helps us prevent the same mistakes from occurring again.

This math helps cultivate a passion for innovation.

This language helps us to connect with other people.

And this science inspires us to discover the world through our own eyes.

So in the end, Long after our schooling is done, And we look back On all the mindless cramming, The stress and the pressure, We see so much more Than just those three letters, A, B, and C. SAHIT DENDEKURI | 8

11 MM

MODERN MODERN

The Modern Section is a reflection of the present day from the corners of the world to the corners of 10600 Preston Road

13 MM

Photos by Kamal Mamdani | 8

Let Morning COme Kamal Mamdani

Let the rays of the morning sun glare through the blinds in the window, glistening throughout the room as the day begins.

Let the birds begin to sing, as a family begins to cook food and eat a flavorsome meal. Let morning come.

Let the grass open up and sprout itself out of the dirt. Let the bugs come out and the kitten awaken from its sleep.

Let the night creatures hide in their homes.

Let the dark disappear. Let the people leave their households. Let morning come.

To the clouds in the sky, to the rose on the bush, to the joy in the air let morning come.

14 MM

Let it come, as it will, and don't be afraid. We are not always sleeping, so let morning come.

Let Evening Come Kamal Mamdani

Let the sounds of rushing traffic vanish with wind on the street, inching away from the city as the sun slowly shrinks.

Let the child begin to read as a parent begins comes back from work to wind down. Let evening come.

Let dust collect on the glistening flower hidden in a small patch. Let the clouds leave and the sky recolor its whole body.

Let the cat go back into its shadows.

Let the birds tweet. Let the boys fall asleep. Let evening come.

To the ivy on the wall, to the nest in the tree, to the peace in the yard, let evening come.

Let it come, as it will, and don't be afraid. We should not always be energetic, so let evening come.

15 MM

ALone Ishan Gupta | 7

I've been roaming a trail To find no one but me Every day I turn around But there's nothing to see

I travel the roads With my best friend, the sun I've been looking and looking But my search has just begun I envy the sand That I walk endlessly above At least it has neighbors To play with and love There was a guy I knew Who said he was my friend He walked with me and promised, "I'll be here 'til the end."

Maybe he got tired Or maybe he lied Truthfully, I should've known That all friendships die

16 MM

I guess it's my fault I was addicted to my phone So as I walk and I walk I know I'm forever alone

Davis Yoo | 8

17 MM

Color Your World Jason Yoo | 7

18 MM

From the moment of our conception, we are distinctive. Every decision and action, waiting to be painted onto a blank canvas of our lives. As we aspire to become better and more accomplished beings, vivid, blissful, and livid colors splash and frolic into unrepeatable patterns.

Each color distorts and sculpts one another into a seemingly impeccable design, rippling and blending to become something greater. And as the canvas is slowly layered and occupied, one can only notice that the precision seems not to be of human achievement, but to be painted by a more prominent entity. Even as we live our normal lives, the masterpiece continuously assists us in discovering who we are and our purpose in life. The boundless layers of colors tell stories of pain, contentment, and misinterpretations that have built up the foundation of oneself. Sharp and obtuse strokes that are yet to be established, slowly dance their way onto the edges of the canvas. The only thing that lets these colors surpass the borders of the canvas lies within the capacity of our imaginations, but what truly paints the hues of our lives are our hearts. Our hearts slowly enfold these colors with warmth and the deathly coldness that will soon come to engulf every canvas. To serve as our imaginations and creativity, violet is the principal color in which the canvas takes shape.

Artwork by Brendan Goldaber | 7

It reflects the stability of blue and the vibrant energy of red. Yet it is a very artificial color that does not frequently occur in nature, only to be produced by our ever-expanding imaginations. Deep gashes of crimson personify the agony and malice while light touches of orange denote the brief but memorable days of joy. Accompanied by the strokes of orange are the distinct splotches of bright yellow, reminiscent of our childhoods, flawlessly merging with the copper of the autumn season. What remains of these jocular hues are the seeping colors of black and navy. As every happy story is ended with an abrupt halt, hues of black and navy slowly seep through the delicate seams of happiness and joy, and bring about a deathly sadness. And as all seems hopeless, a powerful blue sweeps in as a symbol of the heavens and all that is holy. Finally, everything is set with an earthly green that mends together, the endless layers of colors, and bleeds into the unmarked territory of the canvas. Each and every color has its own significance, yet by itself, any color is insignificant. Simultaneously, they create the body of our lives, of hope, sorrow, joy, mistakes, creation, awakening, and discovery. They tell our story, our thoughts, and our feelings. These colors will stay with us for the length of our lives, but we must still hold and embrace their beauty. Soon, the colors will blend, bleed, and disappear, departing the canvas, leaving a fresh but empty canvas. Pure and simple like all the others will be at the end. There will be nothing to tell about where they have been, what they have seen, what they have stood for, and the blank canvases will stand still, waiting for a new life to grab a hold.

19 MM

Photo by Matthew Coleman | 8

20 MM

Snow.

by Tony D'Apice | 7

Snow is concept that many adore.

Snow is pure, perfect, and beautiful.

Snow is a reason to stay inside by the Fire Snow is a reason to play with your neighbors.

Snow is a painting that none other can compete.

Snow is a down blanket for the Earth.

Snow is a place where only peace is welcome.

Snow is a way to focus on good things and block out bad things.

Snow is a concept that many adore.

21 MM

Stopping at a Ranch on a Starry Night

(After a Robert Frost poem)

Whose ranch this is I think I know.

His house is in the suburbs though; He will not see me sleeping here To watch the stars emerge and go.

All my friends must believe it queer To sleep without a building near Between the forest and the lake, The coldest evening of the year.

They ask if it's a joke or fake So sure are they there’s some mistake.

The only other sound’s the noise Of burning logs and singing boys.

22 MM

The camp is quiet, dim, and deep But I have a schedule to keep And pages to read before I sleep And pages to read before I sleep.

Carr Urschel | 7

Photo by Paul Sullivan | 7

23 MM

Davis Malouf | 8

24 MM

25 MM

Alex Piccagli | 7

26 MM

I accelerated, trying to balance at The same time. I took the handles And began to pilot the complicated Vehicle, my brand new bike.

Today was my sixth birthday, and I Felt determined. The fear slowly left My mind and I promptly started to pedal.

The First Ride Jake Yarckin | 8

I hadn’t fallen yet. I kept pedaling and Started to accelerate. My confidence was Growing and I was getting complacent.

I could hardly believe in the fact that I was Balancing on 2 wheels and speeding along At the same time. I never thought that I would Get this far. My parents were shouting something, But I couldn’t hear. I was busy riding my own bike For the first time. There was a gigantic wall 20 feet Ahead of me but I couldn’t have cared less.

One thing I forgot though, was that I didn’t know how to turn yet.

27 MM

Down The drain Albert Luo | 8

Down the Drain The thing that’s at the bottom of the sink The thing that all jazz goes down Drains are scary What gets sucked in It’s gone forever What goes down the drain Some of it’s just plain junk A bit of leftovers that no one ever decided they would Finish A candy wrapper in your pocket Maybe even a wallet occasionally But some other things, Greater things Go down the same hole A job, a stock, a basketball game Or even a championship That slipped from just Fingertips A couple years A lifetime Down the drain.

28 MM

Artwork by Jason Peng | 8

29 MM

Tokyo Ghoul

30 MM

Jason Peng | 8

PHoto by Kamal Mamdani | 8

Fading To Nothingness

MAx Wang | 8

Eventually, everything fades The pleasant times seem like nothing but a mirage They often appear as a lone star in the black sky The wonderful connections, The blissful memories,

And the convivial images all appear to rust away as time goes on And yet, each and every one is unique While the memories will be forgotten

Our memories are but one out of billions,

They never truly disappear

31 MM

Jackson Singhal | 7

32 MM

F F RAE RAE

Fear FEar

Nathan Han | 8

Fear. The ultimate ruler. Fear drives your every choice, your every movement, your every thought. Ever since the first humans set foot on Earth, humans have lived in fear. Fear has merely evolved, from fear of fire to fear of rejection. Fear takes minds and weakens them, poisons them, paralyzes them, and destroys them beyond recognition. Fear whispers misgivings into your ears, diffuses hate into your limbs, plants failure into your mind. Fear thrives everywhere from the grimiest prison to the grandest mansion. It strikes from the depths of hell to the peaks of heaven. Fear rules the lowliest peasant to the strongest dictator. Everything, everywhere, and everyone is ruled by fear. Fear cannot be eradicated. Â Fear is the only true being.

Fear is here. Beware.

You shall not escape. No one has. No one will. Have fun.

33 MM

34 MM

Photo By Charlie Rubarth | 7

THE THING

Fritz Hesse | 6

The ship is cold. The walls feel like fresh snow back home. The heating systems failed about a day ago, and it’s a wonder we haven’t already been frozen solid.

“We’re landing in ten minutes,” yells the captain through the intercom. I look out my cabin window as we plummet through the atmosphere of this new planet. It has already been claimed by Texas, and will be named New Texas. We are just the explorers sent to scout for good areas for settlements. This ship isn’t even owned by the government, because the captain built it himself. I suppose that should worry me, but it doesn’t. The captain is very smart. I continue to look out the window, and notice how weird the planet looks, especially compared to Earth.

An S-bot comes into my room, and stands as if it is guarding my door. I am confused.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“There has been a breach,” It responds. “I was sent to guard your room, master Smith.” I raise an eyebrow.

“I can take care of myself.” I say. It doesn’t move. I roll my eyes, but don’t try to make it leave again. I know it won’t. S-bots are programmed to follow orders from whoever is in charge, and a defense order can’t be over-ridden. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to have some extra protection if there really is a breach.

We have just entered the atmosphere, and the under-belly thrusters are being activated. I hear the hissing of pneumatics, and the sixteen huge turbo fans extend from their little sheds, and are turned on. I open my computer, and check the system readings. We have about one hundred thousand feet of altitude, and are slowing at the appropriate rate. I open up a view from one of the security cameras, and frown. I don’t like what I see. I lean forward. All I have is static.

“S-bot,” I say, “get a repair robot to fix security camera number eighty-four, will you?” The S-bot sends the message. I sit back in in my chair.

“All crewmates please activate your security locks and seat belts. We will be landing in about a minute, and a breach has occurred in the lower hangar.” That gets me worried. The landing gear opens with a hiss, and then locks into place. I tell the S-bot to close the security lock and it does. I sit back, and search for a working camera. Nothing. I close that program, thinking it is just a glitch. There are one thousand security cameras on the ship. They couldn’t all be taken out at once, could they?

I open my S-bot control program. I chose a normal commander, and wait for the connection.

I get hooked up, and step out of the charging station. I scout around, and come across nothing out of the ordinary. And then I hear a screeching sound, as if something huge with claws is running. The camera goes wild. I fire the Gatling guns, and then the S-bot is on the floor. The head must have been disconnected, because I see the body. And then the line goes dead.

I hear a crash and whirl around, just in time to see something break into my cabin. The S-bot deploys its Gatling gun and fires, but the thing dodges and lunges. It swipes at the robot, and the S-bot’s head falls to the floor. I hear the compressed air screeching, escaping the pistons in the robots neck. The thing turns to me. Its eyes are wild, and its scales are spattered with blood and oil. I turn, looking for a way to escape, but it is blocking the door. I start to sob as it lunges. I don’t want to die.

35 MM

Davis Yoo | 8

Picture by Davis Yoo Kindness and Consideration

Aaron Weiser| 7

Children playing in the white snow Children making forts out of blankets and pillows Children fighting imaginary dragons And children riding into battle on with their toy cavalry Teens playing videogames on a beautiful day Teens staying out too late to their parent’s dismay Teens too lazy to enhance their intelligence And teens who don’t change from being kind and considerate Adults who don’t let their kids live their lives Adults who always make themselves the bad guys Adults who are too full of themselves And adults who are always kind and considerate

36 MM

These are the people that are in our lives Sometimes it’s terrific and other times it’s just horrific Sometimes you will need your friends in your life Your friends who are kind and considerate

Jackson Singhal | 7

Mixed Seasons Leo Ohannessian |

6

Life starts in Spring’s window, Where all the people cheer, Next to Sunshine Meadows, Not all that far from here.

It didn’t rain in vain, The trees started to sprout, Because there is no drought, Here in the fruited plain.

For all of the God’s blessing, It is time to give praises, To eat turkeys’ with stuffing, Which all of us amazes.

Powdery white flakes fall down, From all heavenly places, The complete year is gone And it is time to start again.

37 MM

Incan Descentt

38 MM

Lee schlosser | 7

I was just a boy The Incans’ messenger All I did was run And report to the emperor He was the Son of the Sun From winter to fall He had only one job To rule us all He was the best of the best Or at least that’s what we used to feel But then I told him the news Of the “gods in steel” He was in a bad place Couldn’t sit nor stand But in the end, there was nothing we could do I could barely look At the remains of the man Finally, he spoke When we all thought he was no more

ishan Gupta | 7 And with dignity proclaimed “We will embrace these conquistadors!�

Little did we know There was no going back Because at the end of the week There was a surprise attack We were 8,000 And they were 162 So we thought we had an advantage But then at the end, there was nothing we could do We tried and tried But ended up like the Maya We were hopelessly decimated At the Battle of Cajamarca It was 1532 And for my people there was no tomorrow For our empire was destroyed by Francisco Pizarro

39 MM

Special Thanks David Dini Warren Foxworth Ray Westbrook Nick Sberna Suzanne Townsend Bob Rozelle (Enjoy the golf!)

Lynne Weber Matthew Conley ‘15 Purujit Chatterjee ‘15 Alex Kim ‘15

Staff Meagan Frazier (Adviser) Nathan Han (Editor-in-Chief) Kamal Mamdani ‘19 CJ Crawford ‘19 Jackson Singhal ‘20 Sahitya Senapathy ‘20 Sahit Dendekuri ‘19 Charlie Rubarth ‘20 Chris Pardo ‘20 Kathan Ramnath ‘20 Paul Sullivan ‘20 Henry Schechter ‘22 Evan McGowan ‘22 James Singhal ‘22

Geoff Stanbury (Adviser) Spencer Allan (Editor-in-Chief) Matthew Coleman ‘19 Ayush Saha ‘19 Andy Crowe ‘19 Sam Goldfarb ‘20 James Shiao ‘20 Kristof Csaky ‘19 Sam Ahmed ‘20 Odran Fitzgerald ‘20 Ishan Gupta ‘20 Devan Patel ‘20 James Then ‘22 Daniel Uglunts ‘22 Owen Simon ‘22

Jason Yoo | 7

Photo By Lee Schlosser | 7