Write in the Middle 2018

Write in the Middle

The Archer School for Girls Middle School Literary Magazine 2018

Write in the Middle Staff Evan Bowman ’22

Glorianna Chase ’22

Bess Frierson ’22

Briana Gonzalez ’22

Quincy Gordon ’22

Paola Hoffman ’22

Daisy Kaplan ’22

Lily Kerner ’22

Shaunael Milton ’22

Justine Moore ’22

Arielle Schultz ’22

Isabella Specchierla ’22

Noa Wallock ’22

Gwyneth Williams ’22

Amanda Freiler

Faculty Advisor

Cover Photo: Sara Morris ‘22

Moving I didn’t do enough

did I?

to patch the

pretty pink wallpaper

still peeling off

to reveal sickly yellow wood

crawling with termites

writhing under

chubby fingers that

tear off that pretty pink paper

That covers

That lies.

that’s why we’re leaving,

isn’t it?

Not because of the roaches or the crows

but because of floorboards that creak at early morning,

and oddly wondrous halls

that only serve to amplify

sounds I don’t know; sounds

I don’t want to know.

then why are we leaving without him?

I don’t know,

I don’t know,

I don’t know, honey.

I don’t want to know why we’re moving.

Sophia Caplan ’22 Middle School Poet Laureate

Unnecessary Questions Conversation starters:

How would you change your body if you could?

I am perfect

In every way

Every one of my rolls and bumps just make the painting

More interesting

My nose just enjoys the view

Looking up at the sky every day

Seeing all those clouds, through the lump it bears

The bump that hugs my eyes

My eyes are the color of the earth

Changing with the weather

I have no need for eyes that shine like the stars

That are millions of lightyears away

My eyes are right here

Right now

On this Earth

And celebrating this Earth and all of its wonders

These bags under my eyes

They carry the weight of all women

They carry the weight of all life

They caress my eyes to keep on seeing

(Even through the dark)

They are stained purple because of the beautiful colors

They absorb

These hips

They make mountains move

They pushed away rock to make rivers flow

They make the moon pull the ocean in

And out

They are like glaciers

They have more to them

Than you will ever see

And these freckles

Oh

These freckles

They hold the memory of when the sun kissed me

They dance together and shift and run with the tide of life

They are dirt and water and fire and ice

They tell the stories of the seasons

And wow, do they love to move

They have painted and claimed me

As my own.

I won me and every aspect of me that will be

This body is perfect

A masterpiece

Fell straight from heaven.

Van Gogh is in tears just looking at it—

These rolls

And eyes

And nose

And hips

Oh, I am perfect

With every pound lying on my bones

I am perfect, in every way.

The answer:

I will not change a single thing.

Charlotte Green ’23

Remember?

Do you remember

those blissful spring evenings?

The sky was

indigo and navy blue,

as vibrant as a

freshly opened box of crayons.

We pulled out our

telescope and watched

the stars.

It was big,

heavy,

but we didn’t mind,

the sky was our oyster.

Remember?

We would set the

patio table,

light the shabbat candles,

eat couscous and

hamburgers

under the stars.

I would run and grab

my camera from its tired bag, and

document the silhouetted figures.

We would sit

and smile

and laugh a little

in those blissful

Spring evenings.

Remember?

Quincy Gordon ’22

Alexandra Marsh ‘22

Flower Girl September 8th, 2007

Puerto Nuevo, Mexico

Waves crashing

Grand Baja Resort

My mom and dad’s wedding day

A smile never leaving her face

His eyes wide open as he watches her

I wore a pink dress

They wore orange

Colors bright like the floral houses

Inside the tienditas of Mexico

The silk dupioni

Glistening like my mom’s eyes

As she walked down the aisle

Pearl necklace dangling on my neck

Slowly walking

d

o

w

n

The aisle

Eyes watching

From

every

direction

Am I doing this right?

Throwing the petals

Bunch by bunch with my tiny hand

They steadily drift onto the dry grass

Until they quickly disappeared

As the sun hid behind the ocean waves

“Thank you for coming”

Just like that

Layla Huber-Verjan ’22

My Mother’s Eyes My mother’s eyes are just like mine

the color of jade with

hints of blue like faded jeans

washed over the surface

Chartreuse spreads and blends into the colors swirling around it

like a globe that’s just been spun.

My mother’s eyes, like her support

are always there

As I baby I would look at them wondrously,

curious about the word around me

and not yet expecting to see life through

that very same lens.

My mother’s eyes are my eyes

observing those around us

with a sense of eagerness

Our eyes are the feathers of peacocks

and under those feathers, our perspectives,

the same.

My mother’s eyes are gracious

and giving

rarely ever asking to receive

a true representation of who she is

I too have those eyes

I just hope someday someone will be proud to have mine.

Milan Umansky ’22

, To Disappoint You. An Autobiography

They say

It’s dark there.

No one

Knows what’s in a black hole.

Especially

The black hole.

She can’t see

Her center.

She’s just

Too big.

Second grade me didn’t know what her favorite movie was when it was her turn to share. She said there are too many movies.

I’m sorry, but that question isn’t fair!

Where is she

Going?

What might you see if you

Took a peek inside?

She came from somewhere

Everything does

She’s not going

Anywhere

She’s just

Moving.

What will you be when you’re all grown up?

I have to be something?

Yes.

But I already am.

Really, what are you then?

…I am me.

Child, smell the cinnamonWakeUP!

I-I just…I prefer black.

Sorry,

There’s a theory

Out there.

It states that a black hole’s

Closing

Is the corridor to the other side of the universe.

You feel her

You are pulled by her

She is pulled by herself.

You move through her

Not around.

What? I’m afraid of change, that’s all.

So don’t leave.

Sorry,

Lots of People

Assume black holes are deep

But some are smarter

They know,

They don’t know.

Shallow is deep.

She is deep in the most shallow way

Imaginable.

I was once told that I was a real good thinker from a girl in my english class.

But to that I said,

You may fall into me for hours

And when you hit the ground, the bottom of the bottomless abyss,

You look up to see that the opening at the top is only a few inches up.

It’s not that complicated.

I’m sorry.

What is a black hole?

Where might it be going?

What does a black hole see?

How deep is a black hole?

I’ll tell you

She’s a black hole.

It’s simple

Like that.

Sorry,

Jacqueline Marks ’22

Isabella Specchierla ‘22

Elsie Perfect curls always brushed

Into a frizzy mess

She calls it

“Straight”

Ugly skirt upon skirt

Under her dress

Neon green and pink striped tank-top

but only in the winter,

Of course

“You never give

me anything”

She complains

To the woman

who gives her everything

“Why do you think my dad

hates you?”

She asks,

Genuinely concerned

A secret,

not supposed to be shared

But how was that

sweet

sweet

girl

supposed to know?

Willow Stein ’22

Childhood Wet boots and warm pajamas,

the sunny morning

melting the snow outside.

A fresh pine scent filling the room

of family and friends.

Wet kisses of loved ones and

wrapping paper strewn across the floor.

A knock on the wooden door, jangling the wreath

creates excitement and laughter.

Santa Claus steps inside

and wipes his feet on the mat.

I take a seat on his lap, and bouncing me on his knee he says,

“What would you like for Christmas?”

I cock my head and study his face like I studied all the dolls in the store

before choosing the one I wanted.

“you look like my dad” I state.

The santa chuckles with rosy cheeks and says

“Your dad must be one handsome dude.”

Langdon Janos ’22

Her Snowman Two little girls

One cheerful, chubby, cute

The other silly and bossy

Constructing a snowman

Her Frosty.

Two little girls

Hidden in the trees

Buried under layers

Of pink scarves and poofy jackets

Hands so small

Holding tiny frozen crystals

Cheeks so red

Smiles so bright

Like the sun’s gleam against the snow

Stick hair and arms

Cookie eyes

A carrot nose

More cookies for a smile

Warm and tiny chubby arms wrapped

Around the frozen round body

Soon the snowman becomes

Slowly smaller

In the distance

As tires roll away

So did her smile

Then

Hot tears

A never-ending flow like a broken pipe

Against her frozen round cheeks

Fogging up the window

Why would she cry?

Now I know

For my sister loves everything

Alive

And

Alive in her heart

Isabella Specchierla ’22

Jagged Edges My Big Sister Ella

I

always looked up to her

Even

during

questionable choices

Nina Salomon ’22

The hair cut behind the couch Oh!

No!

Jagged edges all

over

the

floor

Around the Carousel Up and down.

Steady, sure of themselves.

One after the other

and around again.

Flash of elaborate something

unicorn on a quest.

One giddy life chasing another.

Down and up.

Menacingly mechanic.

Eyes seeing, though coated in paint:

An adult chasing a child.

Oldened, wizened, bored,

Loose change in her pocket,

Jingling to the automized beat.

Up and down and stops.

Her sweet child cries

Cold, unfeeling

Eyes of paint.

Reaching,

She places another quarter in the slot.

Zoe Bush ’22

Sara Morris ‘22

Dizzy The world is spinning, spinning, spinning

Like I went on a upside-down rollercoaster

Like watching a merry-go-round

Spinning and spinning

Turning and turning

Until the colors melt together

Hearing voices

Echoing in your mind

Smearing together

Like your head turned into a cave

And sound keeps bouncing off the walls

Trying to walk straight

But the ground turns into a thin rope

And you’re too wobbly not to fall over

The world is spinning, spinning, spinning

Like a ferris wheel out of control that doesn’t have a stop

Button

Dizzy

Audrey Chang ’24

Just a Princess On the slide we sat,

me in front, as usual,

and boys in the back,

because I don’t like the boys, they tell me what to do.

“Ok, I will be Jasmine and you all must listen to me because I am the princess and the princess is in charge.”

Everyone stares,

the world goes silent,

the teachers turn around,

in one second I can see shock fill everyone’s faces,

Like my Lucky Charms fill my cereal bowl.

And then, it’s gone,

Jasmine is just a princess, they say, she doesn’t tell us what to do.

Eve Tarpey ‘23

i used to not care I’m a Barbie girl, in a Barbie man’s world Life in plastic bones, it’s fantastic unfair You can can’t brush my hair, undress me everywhere

Imagination, life is your our creation

Come on Barbie, let’s go party

I used to not care.

I used to just let it go.

But then I realize how, why, and them.

It’s reality, not just some silly song.

It’s the truth, not just something that you sing along.

Karen Garcia ’23

symphony I walk along the waves daring them to swallow me in their icy jaws

I sway in the bitter wind

As I dance alone on the cold squishy sand

I laugh alongside the ringing silence

And I create a symphony.

I hang on to weak branches of trees

Hoping they might just b r e a k I skip stones in the muddy water

I walk barefoot in the comforting too-cold snow

I disappear in caves

And lie down to rest.

I am loud just to hear my echo

As It joins the ringing silence

The skipping stones

The snapping branches

I create a symphony.

Naiobi Benjamin ’22

Isabella Specchierla ‘22

Untitled Snow on the palm trees

So fresh so cold

So unusual

So bold

So white

So fluy

So rare

Snow on the palm trees

With the cold breeze

Sparkling everywhere

The palm trees

A dozen or so

All the same

All in a row

These wonderful palm trees

In the snow

As they glow

I know

There is never a better

Sight to see

Than these spectacular trees

With the snow

On their leaves

Emilia Marmol ’24

The Bits of Green

I step onto the bits of green coming together so clean

Like feathers they make a bouquet that covers the ground all around

The strands come out every which way as they all sway

The little bits of green oh so lean poke between my toes as I start to doze

The long bits tickle and tangle at my heels

As I walk on the grass I feel a sensation that gives me the temptation to smile while

I am filled

With joy.

Anna Entin ’24

Endless

There is no time to soak up the sun;

How shall I be bright?

The water is a trek away every day and night.

The buds all around me are growing into flowers,

And why am I still walking, endlessly for hours?

Eve Tarpey ‘23

Untitled Walking barefoot across the grey land

What has become of the once luminous white sand?

Broken bottles disseminated around

What is left of the beach is broken and browned

As I see the water, brushing up to the shore

I notice that the polluted sea is sheathed with plastic galore

And the once glowing seashells have been long gone

The essence of the ocean will even grow weak

A shell of the place it used to be, drained of all mystique

Audrey Chen ’24

White Lies

A little white lie

Not a problem

Doesn’t show through my pristine pages

Until it brightens to yellow

Then orange to Red

It begins to drip,

abandons its designated spot

A river of blood left carelessly in its wake

It fills my pages

It floods the paper

And my book is left

Drowning in its own creation

A simple white lie

Evan Bowman ’22

Naiobi Benjamin ‘22

Laundromat.

Tiny blue kite

Swims in the dark night,

Floodlight color drains from the burial sight.

Swim, swim, swim,

Bury, bury him

The sickly sweet smell of lilies on softened fabric

To wash away your sins

With Clorox starlight

Fly your own kite

Till cold hands greet the angel’s moonlight

Teeth and lip; still with frostbite.

Bess Frierson ’22

Untitled A ball gown made of seafoam

Jewelry made from sea glass

A smile that could turn the tide

From the moon

And make it move to your command

Your hair was soft, but rarely dry

You preferred to spend your days in the sea

Where did you go,

The you full of bubbling excitement

Why did you leave

The you who pretended to be a mermaid

How could you leave

And let me be washed away

As you turned your back and walked onto the shore

Amalea Brown ’22

Piece by Piece One by one

Turn them over.

Feel the edges and the curves.

It’s okay some are different.

Where do they fit?

Trial and error.

A work in progress.

Complicated, messy, unclear,

The answers

Slowly revealing themselves

Only you will know.

Piece by piece,

You are

The puzzle

The image

The masterpiece.

Lauren Robson ‘22

Amalea Brown ‘22

Wiped Canvas

First days are scary

but not as much as your last

It was a masterpiece

filled with vibrant colors

Like sunshine yellow

rosy pink

and warm orange

And sometimes

there were the dimmer colors too

Like rainy blue

frustrated red

and solemn black

But it didn’t matter

because no matter what

There was always

green and purple

Some try to tell me a blank canvas is a good thing

but that means my old painting

has to be thrown away

But now I know

that any color is better

than none

Arielle Schultz ’22

Particles Photons don’t experience the passage of time

They just exist

They travel at a set speed for all of eternity

Until they interact with matter

They burst into energy

Burning, Bright Power

People think that photons are just idle energy

Waiting for its time

But aren’t energy until they interact with matter

They were just particles

Flying through space

Forever

Until they bumped into something, anything of matter

And their existence changed forever

I was photon

You’re the matter I crashed into.

Evan Bowman ’22

Untitled You are alone, sitting sadly on a bench

Feeling so isolated that you feel like life has no meaning

Then it starts to rain, and life feels even more meaningless

Then comes the bright light, blinding you, shining down on you

The bright light is a friend

She comes over to you, and it stops raining

You talk for hours, smiling as bright as the sun, laughing until your jaws fall o

A friend is the best addition to life

You two are perfect, best friends.

Beautiful, together forming a rainbow.

Ella Gray ’24

At a Glance At a glance, I see you At a second glance I see a facade

And behind it,

A crumbling heart struggling to stay afloat among nebulous,

shadowy waves

I see it

I see it all

You can’t fool me

So

I’ll give you a piece of my heart

And in return

I want a piece of yours

I hope you keep the piece of my heart

I won’t ask for it back,

But it might get sad too

That is if you neglect it

I promise I won’t forget about yours

I’ll hold it,

And cherish it forever

I promise.

Gwyneth Williams ‘22

Shaunael Milton ‘22

Why Do I Only Write When I’m Sad? Your hands are like matches

My heart the striking surface

I wouldn’t say this if it wasn’t true

Your fire catching in my mind

Nine-tenths of each moment

All the little things that I tend to overcomplicate

burn like paper

Lightning to a flagpole

Friction to fuel

It’s times like this when I wonder

How you pour your cereal in the morning

If you put your socks on first

Or your sweater

The smell of burning rubber brings me back

My focus switches to bright orange flames

Grey ash consuming space

It’s too late

I never should have played with fire.

Sara Morris ’22

Untitled I take the gold you give me;

You choose to let it go.

Lily Prokop ’23