Write in the Middle 2017

Write in the Middle

The Archer School for Girls Middle School Literary Magazine 2017

 

Write in the Middle Staff

Amalea Brown ’22 Caterina Cajrati Crivelli Mesmer Nobili ’21 Rio Hundley ’21 Isabella Ionazzi ’21 Hannah Joe ’21 Emma London ’21 Chloe Richards ’21

Amanda Freiler Faculty Advisor

Cover Photo: Audrey Chung ‘22

Storyteller

My grandmother’s voice Crackling over the phone I ask for a story A pencil in my tiny hand She starts slow Filipino accent curling her words like burnt paper I don’t try to understand them I listen a little To humor her But I keep listening I listen until the words fill the room Until they become the air I breathe The water I drown in She tells me about the war The water drains Dry soil appears beneath The planes soar overhead Made into nothing but shadows By the hot Manila sun Mere birds in a cloudless sky But growing larger From the soil grows a large field The man Tucked in the grass Yells in a foreign tongue Before I know, the field wilts Becomes polished wood The story melts

I try to curl the words But I burn the whole paper I try to make a sea of a story But I only dampen the floor I melt my stories Before they begin.

Rio Hundley ’21 Middle School Poet Laureate 

Nevertheless

She stood on that podium, Pantsuit ironed impeccably While the glass ceiling was suspended midair Waiting to shatter Her spine was straight, gracious to the very end I would have screamed till the glass cracked The illusion of vulnerability has been cast on us An itchy blanket of fragile masculinity Suffocating us while we pull Our hair out Unravelling cells Toxic notions are pumped into our grey mass Infecting until it is a bulbous pile of rot We must act like sweet lambs Obedient, silent, subservient Until we are led to the chopping block Raised for slaughter We are just empty vessels waiting to be filled A method of transportation Soft and fleshy keepers of the next generation Trained to guard and protect the young Safeguard the womb What would happen if the feminine rebelled Marches in a flood of pink wool Riots torching male monarchy Pulling the trigger on the patriarchy You warmed us on multiple occasions Now we warn you

Gwendolyn Hanson ’21 

Something

Try to imagine a something That fills you up with glee You think up a something for you And I’ll think up one for me It may not be gigantic It may not be grandiose It may not be the best of things But a something you’ll cherish most It may be an item Like a small and precious gem But it also may be a memory That you’ll recall now and then But it will and must be meaningful You just wait and see So if it were up to you What would that something be?

Charlotte Quinn ‘23

Amalea Brown ‘22

blue.

Blue dress Folded over the creases spilling spilling Like cascading water Tucked under the crease of her palms To contain these little drops Of blue And soul A gentle music spinning from the silken folds Who carries a tune so arcane?

Yet Nobody can hear For they have turned their heads From everything That once was And so The girl is left Once again alone With the blue dress spilling spilling containing the words that she once shouted but now there are only whispers

Paola Hoffman ‘22

Cake

Egg, cracked Cream, whipped Butter, melted Sugar, poured Flour, sifted Oven, pre-heated Ingredients, mixed Batter, in oven Cake, taken out

Carla Martinez Rivas ‘23 

Untitled

We are humans Different Unique Beautiful Smart Yet We aren’t satisfied We change Ourselves for others We take more Than we need Leave others in the dust Always strive For more When we Have nothing left To take

Lily Kerner ‘22

Stars in Space

Up above A world so high Where little diamonds Scatter the sky Reaching for the endless darkness Only gets the cold night air.

An endless tundra of Darkness, desolation, and mystery.

Up above in the endless black Are many secrets Never to be solved.

Natalie Kim ‘23 

Dusk to Dawn

The night as cold as the brisk winter wind Pulls on the strings of the sun Until it seems the light will never come.

Then suddenly a corner of its rays peek out from the edges of the Earth And the world is lit once again, And dusk is turned into dawn.

As days turn into months, Months into years, Years into lifetimes, It all seems forever, But from dawn to dusk It is all just one needle In the haystack of the universe.

Violet Jean ‘23 

Isabella Specchierla ‘22

Caught in a Storm

As the rain trickled down my back I looked up at the lifeless sky, as dark as a black cat The rain tapped on the trees as a boom shattered the sky My screams echoed through the trees Then leaving a dead silence as I wandered alone through the night

Greta Irvine ‘23 

Untitled

I heard the thunderous drumming outside the thin glass pane of my bedroom window.

I cowered in the corner of my dark room weeping, Shaking uncontrollably with fear.

The ear-piercing shouts of thunder and lightning drowning the sound of my cries.

I was praying to myself for the storm to stop, to stop pouring and flooding the streets.

But it continued, It poured and poured, Countless sparkling droplets of water falling out of the sky.

The power went out, There was a moment of silence, Then on went the loud sound of the storm, Laughing at me for being afraid.

Daniella Fenster ‘23

A Lion’s Hunt

A lion roaring the trees down Crawling to find its prey Spreading further and further So no one gets away Swallowed in a snap of a finger Gone in the blink of an eye As a fire scars the land’s soul Another foal must die

Lucy Lassman ‘23

Isabella Specchierla ‘22

Spilling the Water

Going.

Going down the drain like wasted water.

The aqueduct trying to speak To find it doesn’t have the words To say something.

The aqueduct missing a stop, going too fast, spilling The Water Everywhere.

But the aqueduct doesn’t care.

Not anymore at least No longer spilling the water No longer missing a stop.

All the aqueduct saw anymore was a ragged Blaze of red and pink and orange like colors spilled from a paint box.

Now the aqueduct was surrounded in a beautiful world of color.

Gwyneth Williams ’22

Drip Drop Drip

Drip Drop Drip I am falling Towards the sparkling, Salty blue sea, Waving at me, Calling me.

I am hurling, Further and further away From the cloudy Heavens And the warm, yellow Sun, Into the Foaming bubbles.

Sharks, Jellyfish, Manta rays Swim through me Yet leave me Untouched.

Drip Drop Drip I am falling Toward The cold, hard Bottom of the Heartless sink.

I flow Down the drain And into the merciless Sewers.

Drip Drop Drip I am falling Onto the colossal leaves Of full grown Tomatoes, Orange trees, Daisies.

I strengthen Their power To entice With their alluring, Beautiful scent.

I sink Into the fresh Soil, Strengthening the roots of Grass and Hydrangeas.

Drip Drop Drip

Sally Song ‘21 

Audrey Chung ‘22

A Lone Walk

A lonely leaf falls silently downward Lightly dipping through the air Under the waves of a secret wind Whispers carry from the trees Across the moonlit branches And through the wood Shadows quiver under the stars A raven cries out from the west A soft wind places the leaf down

Alejandra Ayala ‘22 

My Own World

falling fast and standing still but is it backwards? forwards? colors press against the breeze, all flying nowhere? somewhere? blues and greens and suns they melt, against me, with me, and he follows, gently trailing, behind me, he’s whispering the colors that warm me, without words, and as the day fades into the night, we’re still here, we’re shining, not far from the dark but in our own little pocket of happy, of knowing, of peace.

Hannah Joe ‘21

The Melody of a Tear

The melody of my death A beat so slow it could be a dying heart A tempo so fast it could be my own thoughts I think of one One who has an ocean An ocean between us I ask myself one question—will you reach me?

For me, for me, for me I have crossed hell and heaven only to look in your eyes Endless eyes with so much more to discover I who crossed my own canyon of sorrows for you An ocean swallowing the melody with its crashing waves Your touch-grasp—is my cage My cage made of gold You hold me like I am time—like I am forever— But all I am is fallen I am caged in gold—with ruby pearls Ruby pearls falling from my flaws Trapped in the endless maze of all Drowned in tears Diamond tears Torn apart Ripped in haf The one whom I have only known with my heart Your gaze a labyrinth itself The tune of life always changing Tempo changing with every beat of our hearts The fragile strings breaking with every forgotten star I have touched the stars for you I have fallen I have detached from my heart Detached from myself

With only an image of right With a bloody sea of wrong The one who I have only known with my heart Not my mind My gold cage is breaking My tempo is slowing Until my music stops And my last diamond tear falls

Charlotte Greene ‘23 

Astrid McQuaide ’21

Untitled

Curled in the corner of the room My fingers in my ears to drown out the sound Eyes squeezed as shut as if I had just swallowed a lemon Then it came The big bang And I knew he was gone I try to tell me self He was old He was weak He was suffering This was all for the best But I can’t help How much it hurts How much i’m going to miss him

Isabella Ionazzi ‘21

When the Time Came

The smell of lilies in the spacious room.

The black clothes. The smeared makeup.

The memories that were faded boomeranged back.

Always moving on. That’s the way it’s supposed to be. That’s the way it is.

Stay strong, I told myself.

Red roses tossed in the dirt.

The ice cold room.

The golden age was all over.

Poetry will never be the same again, nor will I. I didn’t want to let go of time.

But time is a pack of bison, running free in the plains.

When you get the phone call, You can’t fight or run away from the pain.

The hoarse voice that delivered the news.

“You’re not alone.”

The voice was warm and soothing I looked around.

We all lost something.

Kaitlyn Chi ‘22

Jennifer

Humor, my Auntie’s.

Humor that is clumsy.

Humor that trips over its feet and falls on its face, Humor that bruises its shins and scrapes its knees.

Yet smiles.

Humor that spins ‘round and ‘round But doesn’t dizzy itself.

She wore her humor as her ribbon Small, worn, faded yellow Not as lustrous as her pin Nor as silky or bright as her sash But—everyone’s favorite always there.

Humor, my Auntie’s greatest companion.

Until it led her to a better one I am sure he noticed her outsides first But it was the real her Under the long black hair And sienna skin That he fell in love with.

Humor, my Auntie’s savior.

Humor cheered her on Found her Under rubble Of work and stress Warmed the days, cold and desperate, Lit the long nights So that one day She signed her name under Engineer.

Humor, my Auntie’s witness.

29 same age as her Sitting in the driver’s seat that day.

Humor that decided It would not get dizzy That it would stay here with us Even if she couldn’t.

Humor, my Auntie’s legacy.

Sometimes I hear them speak too loudly “She reminds me of Jennifer” Sometimes I see the grief cloud their eyes Sometime I spin my humor around and around And it doesn’t get dizzy Sometimes It lights their eyes back up.

Rio Hundley ‘21

Our Eyes

I have eyes like my aunt Always wide, like a full moon, Brightening up the sky with wonder, Open to new possibilities.

Looking around Seeing pure, delicate whites, Contrasting harsh, mysterious blacks.

They carry emotion My eyes a gentle green With a touch of brown in the center, Her eyes a deep Honest dark-chocolate brown.

But they share the same Smile, As we make cookie dough together.

Laugh, As we jump around playing charades.

Tears, Rolling down our cheeks, grieving a loved one.

The emotions Beneath the color Is what connects them.

Yet she has seen things She has lived longer And faced the hardships of life, A wearied nightingale.

But I am young And have been protected, A hatchling in its nest.

I haven’ been scarred.

I don’t know what she hides Behind her beautiful, perplexing eyes.

Jessica Tuchin ‘21

Closing Time

They say that when you sleep Your mind works like a museum Taking in the day’s memories And exhibiting them for your thoughts to use Can your dreams use them too?

If so Where do the nightmares come from?

From words unsaid?

From actions replayed in slow motion Over and over again?

If so Where do the monsters lurk before you go to bed?

Where do the wolves make their den?

If so Where do the good memories stay carefully hidden Even when you need them?

If so Where do these memories go when the museum closes?

Emma London ‘21

Audrey Chung ‘22

Bus

Strangers load An empty metal box Unfamiliar hands desperately clutch The cold, frigid poles No exchanges The silence is unwanted But acknowledged Then left alone Minds have been flooded With unwritten rules Rules that forbid Sacred words “Hello” and “How are you?”

A naive youth boards the cold metal box Her youth shields her from These tacit rules That hold us Confined Purely curious Unintentionally Questions these rules Breaks these boundaries “Why is it so quiet in here?”

Kaeli McLeod ‘21

Strangers on a train/ Strangers on Platform 11

The lights were too bright I pushed my way through this crowd The train was about to leave So I rushed to hop on And that’s when I saw you.

Your clothes weren’t ripped But I could tell that you were.

Scars Not visible on the flesh But in the way you walked Moved Breathed I knew something was wrong.

I met your eye from the darkness And in that moment I met you.

I wanted to call out to you And grasp your hand And let you cry on my shoulder And not worry about anything Let everything go.

I wanted to hug you And give you the care that you seemed so devoid of And the warmth you need in the cold of loneliness The cold of the city streets And nights In the harsh winter air.

I wanted to even just learn your name And tell you that you matter.

I wanted to grab your pain and drown it.

Let you wash it out.

I wanted to be the person who could help you I wanted to just somehow help.

But I couldn’t.

Because we are just strangers.

And as the subway doors slid shut I lost sight of you And I will never See you Again.

Paola Hoffman ‘22

Hannah Joe ‘22

In the Light

Her insecurities follow her Everywhere she goes Looming over her shoulder Like an elephant they seem The light at the end of the tunnel Seems so close to her now But the rope that ties her To the darkness in her past Catches on sharp edges Of who she is Who she was But this time She won’t be dragged back into the dark She is beautiful Standing in the light This time The elephant won’t win

Emma London ‘21

Pause

It doesn’t wait, does it?

Time, it runs right by us.

No attention paid to whom It’s affecting, its excuse of Getting to where it needs to be (the End of Forever), Consuming, Disappointing.

I wish that just for A moment, it’d give Me a chance To stop, Breathe.

Hannah Joe ‘21