Agathon 2015

S P R I N G

2 0 1 5

AGATHON

G

P

0

0

P

2

G

0

RAINBOW by Simon Huston, K Red is the color for a bow Orange is the sunset that glows Green is the color of grass and trees Blue is the color of the sky and water Violet is the color that attracts bees But indigo is the prettiest color in the rainbow.

P G

0

Luke Gerson, ’15

3

P

4

G

0

GLASSES by Ashley Decker, 8th I couldn’t see the ocean, I couldn’t see the waves.

I didn’t even know there were waves.

Just a blue blur, like paint splattered on a blank canvas Tripping over nothing, Catching something that wasn’t there.

A trick of the mind it was.

But now, it is clear.

The water moves, The clouds have shape.

And the grass blows in the wind.

Placing vison on my head, Gaining clarity with the magic of an object placed on my face.

My eyes were given to me.

P G

0

Emily Reed, ’16

5

P

6

G

0

HARLEM RENESSAINCE by Zoe Rein, 8th These days it seems we would bleed To satisfy our never ending greed Sick with the passion for more We try to turn the red of blood to green and gold Gaining riches that seem impossible to behold Nothing more than empty shells of people searching for more Struggling against all logic to prove An unknown point of wealth that removes Humanity in search of only more An inferno of desire It turns the honest into liars Since there is no room for truth when there is more Why do we strive for this with such ferocity When all that lies after the monstrosity Is despair?

Oblivious to the cry Of people left to die Because more is not for everyone While we continue with fruitless whims Unnoticed lies the person with freezing limbs Unable to take shelter from freezing winter winds No shame in betraying previous friends anymore Crimes committed against those we used to adore There is no telling what war we wouldn’t fight to achieve the elusive more But hopefully, someday society will realize They will truly open up their currently blinded eyes To the horrible ongoing enigma of more.

P G

0

Troy Workman, ’17

7

P

8

G

0

NEW SHOES by Michael Yagan, K New shoes They’re clean There’s mud Jump in the new shoes and they’re dirty.

P G

0

Autumn Shemitz, ’23

9

P

0

G

1

THE ARGUMENT by Skylar Martinek, 7th My feet glide across the carpeted floor in the dark hallway as I rush into my sister’s room.

I enter the room alertly, then throw down the clothes that she believes are mine, but I believe are hers.

I race out of the room with a enthusiastic look on my face feeling as if I have convinced my sister that the clothes are hers!

As I am about to turn into my room, I hear a loud stomping echo behind me.

I realize what is about to happen therefore, I race away with only fear in my eyes.

My running wasn’t fast enough, it’s too late.

I rush into my mom’s room telling her about this aggravating disagreement between her favorite daughter, me, and her least favorite daughter, my sister.

Even though I am the favorite daughter, I couldn’t convince my mom.

I look down the hall to see a smirk across my sister’s face.

Now what was that for?

She thinks that the game is over? No. The game has just begun.

P G

1

Payal Desai,’15

1

P

2

G

1

BASEBALL by David Guldin, 4th Babe Ruth loved baseball Bo Jackson loved it too Before each game, teams practice Bombing hits all over the field Bubble gum being chewed from the beginning to end Baseball is played day and night Baseball is played by people of all ages Beloved baseball fans cheer all game long Bats swung with a crack at the end Baseballs soar to the outfield and drop Before the outfielder’s glove for a Base hit that makes the crowd explode.

P G

1

Lincoln Stueve, ’25

3

P

4

G

1

[TIME]FRAME by Rosie Pasqualini, 11th I want hands for eyes. I want to draw my lost reflections[’ last directions] from the water in your lungs frothing rabid spittle where the new god in her sterile beauty promised you air.

I want hands for eyes. I want to puncture the yolk of dawn with my nails and fashion from its milky drippings an omelet you can swallow whole. you are [for] a moment in the making, a day unfit for breaking.

Now hungry as dogs we wander the streets [and through the breathless fog we wander ourselves—] Now I chase your soul along the white highway lines [and we shiver at the glint of a new corvette—] !Now you drown……...in severed stillness……………..like a stringless marionette.

I want hands for eyes. I want to stretch my skin like silk across the two-by-two [time]frame sick with gravity so thick it isn’t there. I should have loved a monday, I should have [be]held you harder when you plucked the dust from your slippers like it mattered, like ordinary disorder was a language you gathered, flesh unfurled, reaping every rotting word.

P G

1

Arjun Mohan, ’25

5

P

6

G

1

LOOK THROUGH YOUR OWN EYES by Carly Howard, 7th I was told to write a poem about a place, object, and emotion.

I was told to make it sound like me, so that’s what I’m going to do.

Look through your own eyes.

First, let’s get something straight.

I am a place, I am everywhere I’ve been.

I am an object, I am everything around me.

I am a series of emotions, I’m everything I have ever felt.

The place that is me, is a beautiful, colorful world.

In a place that is me, hate is forgotten, and left behind.

I am not a number on a scale, a score on a test, a price.

I am organic, and one of a kind, flaws and all.

The object that is me, is not a number.

That doesn’t make me your object.

The emotion that is me, is everything.

I am more than happy or sad.

I am a never ending series of imperfections and perfection.

This is why an emotion can’t be explained.

Everybody lives their life differently and explains the world from their point of view.

Look through your own eyes.

P G

1

Lauren Sandness, ’15

7

P

8

G

1

A JOURNEY by Kristin Tingle, 8th First were the islands, Where I went Barefoot until two.

Next came the seashore, And a new little sister, Who loved nothing More than the sea.

Then was the old city, Where I didn’t take NAPS* But we did go to school there.

After that came a town, With a second grade of “no” And a crashing sea of cars.

Finally the suburbs, With a nice sprawling park And spelling “hemisphere” On Fridays instead of “no.”

The life of a “Marine Brat.“ It was a start anew, Just like others before.

But this time it’s different.

This time it’s for sure No more moving Every three Octobers No more housing on base No more temporary homes.

This time it’s friends That will last a lifetime Not just while I stay This time it’s a new start A lasting beginning A place to find new friends A time to lose old ones A place to grow up A place to learn A place to live. *NAPS Naval Academy Primary School

P G

1

Blair Huxman, ‘17

9

P

0

G

2

HAIR by Simone Huston, 3rd Hair is different colors.

It smells like shampoo.

It tastes like chemicals.

It sounds like the wind.

Hair feels like tennis shoe laces.

P G

2

Isabella Welty,‘25

1

P

2

G

2

FROM SOUTH TO NORTH by Sam Short, 6th Billboards now blood-stained cracks Incandescent hills now dust-caked and foggy Horses now squealing Reapers seeking scythes Stones are cracked The drinkers deafened.

Children beneath me with starry eyes flashing They hold courage and bitterness inside their hearts.

They are like outcasts harboring chained hearts.

Green paints and amethyst shoes Eager dreams of soft laughs and hyacinths Romance whistling in the night Tamarack gardens under the moon.

P G

2

Morgan Boeh, ‘17

3

P

4

G

2

GROWTH by Stella Kahl, 8th A seed flashing bitter courage And hold the land beside another Beneath the fields Stems swoon the hills A life-like plant with a heart.

Fall grows dark Lone pears weep Fruits hurt by frozen frosts A fallen snowflake from heaven Weary woods mere gray A world that cannot barter mirth.

Hidden beautifully by dusk Long pale grass held dreams of legends Night seemed soft Black armor forgotten The light of the moon Meticulously aglow.

Dewy stones crack the hills Beads play songs between oat-fields Ears deaf to the echo.

P G

2

Troy Workman, ’17

5

P

6

G

2

FALL IS by Addison McNeive, 1st Fall is Fun family snuggling, Glowing moon shining, Colourful leaves falling, And red apples crunching.

P G

2

Danielle DePriest, ‘15

7

P G

2

A SPECIAL THANKS

2015 EDITORIAL STAFF Editor-in-Chief

Preston Schwartz

Executive Editors Lili Tucker Faiza Aslam

8