The Picaroon Volume II Issue I

Copyright © 2018 Shelton Intermediate School Shelton, Connecticut All Rights Reserved.

Cover Art by Mary Pavliouk, Grade 7

Picaroon Literary Magazine

A Shelton Intermediate School Publication

Welcome once again to ​The Picaroon​! This issue contains work from students who have submitted poetry, prose, and art throughout the year. Some of our submissions are inspired by various poets and works we have studied in our classes, while others are straight from doodle-ridden notebooks and shared Google docs. Many thanks to each of our contributors for sharing their work, especially those which are personal in nature, reminding us that we all have unique stories to tell. We hope you enjoy the issue!

Cheers, The Picaroon

Table of Contents

Poetry

5

Short Stories

19

Art

23

Poetry Where I’m From

I am from pans, from zam zam water and the Modern Renaissance Palette I am from the dust on top of my fan, grey and covered all over.

It looks like piles of ash.

I am from the roses, the deer roaming the woods for food.

Mysterious, undecided.

I’m from the handprints of blood on the grooms thawb and tea after dinner.

I’m from A ​ nwar's​ land From A ​ hmed​ and ​Hiba’s​ apartment I’m from the wise.

From a tendency to learn and equality.

From “it’s fine” and “don’t worry.”

I’m from praying and believing, waking from a deep sleep, reciting ​Quran​ while communicating to ​Allah.

I’m from Jersey and M ​ isr​, from h​ alal​ beef and milk with dates.

From the twenty six sisters and six mothers ​Gido had and from the bee farm in the other house.

In my closet, my baby bag filled with pictures, and in my parents drawer filled with albums, filled and waiting to be filled.

I am from doubt, the cold, and the smile on my face.

I am from those moments--

Halla Farag Grade 7 Inspired by George Ella Lyon’s “Where I’m From” & Safia Elhillo’s “To Make Use of Water”

The Moon

Looks like Cheese but all can see In the sky out Of reach so bright Like a flashlight But so calm Doesn’t flicker Like the Night sun Bright but Does Not give Off light That is my moon

Raul Nair Grade 7

Where I’m From

I am from the dirt off of my basketball shoes, from the butter on lobster dripping on white shirts And the decaying shovel with smelly dog poop.

I am from the world colliding with a women who did more than everything for me, Who has impossibility of nevermore displaying benevolence.

And it felt like alleviation from the twisted world around us I am from the orchids I killed when pouring saltwater over it, with their transcending light and colors, Like the smile that comes over the faces of seeing children succeeding, Reminding them of what they were... and become.

I’m from the family that stresses if they’re only 20 minutes early to an appointment The humorous beings that help me go to sleep at night, from the stories of performing brain surgery, From when my mother saved a man’s life on a fold-up table.

My father always living in the moment, don’t worry about tomorrow, we’ll all make it one way or another.

I’m from the farm that a women once cherished, No matter how much we changed it, the simplest was always the most complicated.

From getting boinged with a stick, Deconstructing a puzzle before taking the picture, And being told that my father’s name was my brother’s middle, still not believing them with pudding dripping down my face.

I’m from the intellectual people who skipped the eighth grade and registered nurses since the rudiment of time.

I’m from the lands of Ireland, Italy, Czechoslovakia, And Casper the Ghost invested in my skin.

Cannolis are the holy grail, and Irish Soda Bread would only interest my dog.

All of the memories with terrible hair dos and questionable wardrobe choices thankfully tucked away in the dusty maroon cabinet.

I am from the green paint coming off my bedroom walls, The Build-A-Bear Workshop tradition for 30% off Rudolphś and Clarisse.

I know I’m not perfect, but neither is anyone else.

I’m not just trying to get by, but leave an impact on your life, even if I´ve only met you once.

Someone that you tell about to your grandchildren, and theirs so on.

I know ex nihilo nihil fit, But iacet futurum nobiscum...

Caitlin Gius Grade 7 Inspired by George Ella Lyon’s “Where I’m From”

Fortnite

Fortnite, Fortnite, Fortnite, My favorite game to play, That I play everyday, That no one can deny, That it is the best game of all time, And if I could I would rhyme, But to find the time for anything but Fortnite, Would be insufficient to my need, My need for fun, My need for speed, My need to play Fortnite!!

All night!!

My fav game of of all time The game everyone wants To play The game that my teacher plays the game that everyone plays The game that my friends play The game i can't stop playing The game that is Fortnite!!

Gael Quiroga, Chris Buchetto, Aidan O’Grady Grade 7

Bill of Rights

To start there is the 1st amendment, With the freedoms of assembly and religion, And the right to petition, There is the freedom of speech and you can guess, There is also the freedom of the press,

Next is the 2cd amendment, Which is the right to own and carry guns, but I am not done, The proper name is the rights to bear arms you see, Remember, this is the land of the free,

Then there's the 3rd amendment, Which stops soldiers from living in your house except for war, But even then they cant come knocking on your door, Congress would need to make a law and some rules, So don't let them into your house and be a fool,

The 4th amendment is next, nobody can search any of your stuff, So sure enough, If they can't give a the judge an answer that is viable, that is not liable,

Then there's the 5th amendment, if there is not enough evidence for a crime you can't be tried, you aren't forced to say you are guilty even if its a lie, you can't be put in jail unless you are convicted of a crime by a jury, and you can't be tried for the same crime twice, which would cause a fury.

Next is the 6th amendment, you have the right to know what you are accused of doing wrong, and to bring a lawyer along, the jury can be made up of regular people if you need, and you can have the trial in public and soon, to do the deed,

Then there's the 7th amendment, you have a right to a jury in a civil case, a case between you and a face, It is in also in a federal court, Only that kind of sort,

The 8th amendment is next, you can't pay more than fair for a fine or bail, and there is no unusual punishments, mostly just jail, there can't be any harsh penalties, even if you are convicted for a crime, like making you work all day and all night, full time,

Next is the 9th amendment, So you have rights that aren't listed here, Like the right to travel, and be a sightseer, Also there is the right to vote, See, there are rights that have not be wrote,

Last is the 10th amendment, Anything that Congress cannot do, Or pull through, Is left up to the states and people, But everything is still legal.

Emma Walsh Grade 7

Stranger Things

Go back to Indiana in 1983 With four awesome kids, as you can see When he's riding home from Mike's one night On his awesome retro bike Will sees a figure in the night Followed by a flashing light He runs to his house, but no one's there He picks up his phone and he gets really scared The knob on the door turns by itself “There's no one there Willy, you're all by yourself!”

He runs to his shack and his bones start to shake The lights start to flicker and his hands start to ache He’s ready to defend himself But by the time he does, the monster’s already gone The next couple of days have already passed “WHERE IS MY BOY?” Hopper’s being asked The three other boys find a strange girl And Dustin keeps saying,“Can’t resist these pearls!”

Then comes Maxine all the way from CA The boys stare at her all through the day.

Anthony Voccola Grade 7

Where I’m From

I am from running shoes From Hershey and Asics I am from the small house on the big hill at the edge of the forest It smells like nature, everything fresh and alive.

I am from the pollen ridden flowers, the giant trees that make me sneeze.

The herd of deer that roams the yard I’m from the midnight presents on Christmas Eve and the card games from Mon Oncle Jacques And Matante Madeline and Tia Adriana I’m from the vinegar chips and the allergy medicine I take daily

I am from never give up And follow your heart I’m from God’s love, and honesty.

I’m from Texas and Canada Maple Syrup and barbacoa tacos From the time my mom held my hand as the ambulance brought me to the hospital The time my dad thought that we could win the soccer championship when no one else did From family photos hung all over the house I am from all the 5ks I ran with my family I am from those moments--

Luke Pacheco Grade 7 Inspired by George Ella Lyon’s “Where I’m From”

People say that the immigrants are taking all the jobs from “us” the Americans Yes, they are taking jobs but they are what America is all about We pride “ourselves” by saying that “we” built this country But who is “we” Wasn’t it the Chinese who built the railroads?

And the Irish who ran the factories?

The Mexicans who grew crops for low pay?

Or maybe “we” is all of the slaves who we forgot…

Or could it be the women who did all the housework and cooking and yet were seen as property Neither of whom had the right to vote.

No none of these groups are recognized enough and yet it was all of the “thems” - the immigrants who really built this country The only ones anyone ever recognizes are white men or as I call them “we” Why is it that no one else is remembered for building this country?

Why is it that people are classified as Americans only if they were born here?

If everyone followed that sentence then not very many people are true “Americans” The colonists came from Europe so they are not “Americans” The only true “Americans” are the Native Americans So who cares where you’re from?

America is for anyone And you know those immigrants who are taking the jobs for “us” just remember They work harder They work longer And yet they still get paid very little for their hard work I want the true story of America to be told The one that inspires “us” to be the change and learn from our past mistakes The one that includes all of the women who stood up for equal rights The one that includes the slaves who had to grow crops for no pay and had no rights The one that says how even when the Chinese, Irish, Italians, and countless others were discriminated against they made a life for themselves and helped build this county And lastly I want all the future “Americans” to realize that we were the generation who put an end to the discrimination and told history the right way.

Luke Pacheco Grade 7 Slam Poem based on President Obama’s 2013 Speech on Immigration Reform

Where I’m From

I am from starry night skies from crusty hairspray and white mango tea I am from the bean bag chair soft, grey, the cure to this emotionless day It sounds like silence, but sometimes less

I am from the Moroccan beaches the buttercup flowers

That I once used to give I’m from the changing of seasons and driving past sights of an unknown road From my grandfather who was always known and sharp Adam and sensitive dad I’m from the laughing after yelling and crying after telling

From “You’re too young to worry about those kinds of things” And “Think about something else” I’m from a limbo of thoughts, faiths and expectations being told what to think I’m from Casablanca, Italy, Africa, Greece, France Hadada Soup and Kebabs From the getting lost in the jungle to finding the waterfall

with my grandfather, now asleep the sadness of seeing and joy of believing with cousin Narjizz I am from the horror of being awake, to the relief of staying away, from being one with everyone, to being lost and free I am from those moments--

Jasmine Rossetti Grade 7 Inspired by George Ella Lyon’s “Where I’m From”

It’s hard watching them break apart.

The way people break can only be seen from the outside in.

Most people break slowly and don’t realize it.

Beautiful things are usually hidden among shards of broken pieces.

Thing - isn’t that what we are all? Things? So why does it hurt so much to watch someone break?

Watching them, I notice they stopped breaking. They’re building.

Someone I don’t even know I’m mentally cheering on to keep going.

Build! Yes, build your way back up to the top! They’re improving so much yet they’re all by Themself. Why don’t I help them?

Back - they’re going back. They could use a friend.

Up - it’s where everyone wants to be.

After everything they have been through, I think they’re gonna be ok.

Being alone must be difficult. I should go help them.

Broken pieces of myself surround me as I realize, I’m broken too.

Down my path we’ll go, falling, breaking.

For the last time, I wish for hope.

The point where I wish for a friend has dawned upon me.

Last - I’m last. So I will worry about my problems last. It takes one look and almost no Time for them to look at me and walk over to help. Now I know, I’m going to be ok.

Jasmine Rossetti Grade 7

Where I’m From

I am from weaves from UNice Brazilian Human Virgin Hair Straight 3 Bundles and UNice 8A Grade Deep Wave Remy Human Ha​ir Weft 3 pcs/Lot. I am from the colonial house up on a hill Fascinating from below.

It looked tan, beautiful, and tasted like wood, I am from the old tree growing in my backyard the colorful leaves falling on to the ground Tall, brown, colorful I’m from the family get together every Christmas and Easter. and all of our family members with black hair from my mother Marjorie, and my dad Jimmy, Like my brother Daniel I’m from the different environments, from traveling to different places and playing board games every Friday.

From “Get good grades in school” and “don’t do drugs, alcohol, and smoke” I’m from knowing the ten amendments in the Bible, Honor your father and your mother I’m from Stamford Hospital and Athena, Olives and grapes.

From the time my dad got bitten by a cat, And the time my mom hurt her hip as a child.

Of family pictures in an album on my bookshelf.

I am from joy and laughter I am from those moments--

Katherine Cezaire Grade 7 Inspired by George Ella Lyon’s “Where I’m From”

Where I’m From

I am from a intelligent family from ‫ ﻋﺮﺑﻰ‬and Français I am from a fast talking household I am from the bushes and vinyl fences enclosing my front and backyard, the ​Arborvitae shrubs on my lawn That are dead in the winter I’m from the tradition of going out every Sunday And going to the gym with my dad every Friday from Abubker and Ibrahim I’m from the family tendency of being stubborn And being respectful

From “don't run in the house” And “treat others the way you want to be treated” I’m from the Quran The holy book of Islam I’m from Yale Hospital, Lobster rolls and steak.

From my dad being the only lefty of 3 generations And from my mom having seven siblings All born in another country I am from a family of five I am from those moments--

Mutaz Abubker Grade 7 Inspired by George Ella Lyon’s “Where I’m From”

The night has gone silent, And I am lying on my sheets, And then I hear the beauty, That is my heartbeat.

If I close my eyes, And try to hold my breath, I can feel the rhythm, Deep inside my chest.

My heart is a wild animal, That I have yet to tame, It fiercely pumps its energy, Straight into my veins.

Listening to the thumps, Get further apart, I fall asleep, Listening to my heart.

Lindsey Gay Grade 8

Where I’m From

I am from headbands from Nike and Dri-fit T-shirts, I am from the white house on the corner, It feels smaller when Julia is home, I am from the silent death of the pine tree, And the climbing tree in the front yard, The tomato red leaves in the fall, I’m from the 5Ks on Thanksgiving and brown eyes from my father, from Priscilla and Michael I’m from the ski trips in winter and camping in the summer

From “Stop fighting with Julia” and “Don’t cross the carpet line” I’m from youth group, And freeze-tag with good and evil, I’m from Milford Hospital and Germany, I guess.

Meatless sandwiches and Charlie’s birthday cake.

From the lessons learned at Normandy. the wacky walks with Jupiter.

I am from living in the present.

I am from those moments--

Emily Codere Grade 7 Inspired by George Ella Lyon’s “Where I’m From”

Short Stories Harpers Ferry

May 21, 1856 - John is trying to round us all up. Today is the day. Today we are raiding Harpers Ferry and the arsenal there. John thinks that the slaves will pick up arms and revolt against their owners, but some of us are doubtful. This isn’t the first time something like this has been attempted, and none have ever succeeded. As I write this we are on our way to the arsenal. We already have a low chance of success; we encountered a man working at the train station where we were. We were planning on taking a train to the arsenal, but when we encountered this man he saw all of our weapons. Instead of killing or capturing him, John let him go. I hope he doesn’t tell the people of Virginia of our presence.

John still pushes on. Me and my friend Paul are trying to see if there are any among us that would like to give up this fight and run away the moment we get off our train. We keep telling everyone that this mission is certain death, but John has persuaded them over to his side once again. At the beginning we were all doubtful, but didn't think of leaving. Now that some of us have, it is too late. The rest have been fully persuaded by John. We are doubtful that they will not report us or try to stop us as we run, so we are forced to go with the rest of the men and either hope for a window to get away, or hope that we can succeed in this fight.

We are arriving at our destination soon. Of the twenty one on this trip, excluding John, we have been able to recruit four additional followers. The plan is to steal the weapons from the arsenal, and give them to the slaves, enabling them to revolt against their owners. We have an inside man with a fortified house. We will retreat to the house and try to eliminate our opposition. Hopefully they will retreat from the arsenal and we will have time to persuade the slaves to defend themselves, and then move on to get them to freedom. If the slaves do not pick up arms or we run into heavy opposition...I don’t know what will become of our mission

Our fates are sealed, so let's just hope for the best, and do our best to survive...

Jack Beauchemin Grade 7

The Story of Radon Hello! My name Radon. I suppose I should describe to you what I look like. I am very small since I am a gas and also I’m very old -- 13.5 billion years old to be exact! I came around when the universe was being formed! When I was born I got strange powers. My powers include invisibility; nobody can see me, true, but they can’t smell me or taste me either. I am also stealthy. Nobody can touch me or hear me. And I am impenetrable. Nobody can hurt me. I emit radiation, meaning I can give off a lot of energy, which can lead to bodily harm or even death to others. I usually live in rocks and soil. It’s very nutritious down there.

I am also a reactant, meaning I react well with others, heros as well as villians.

I have sidekick and his name is Fluorine. He amplifies my powers a lot when he’s with me. I don’t normally like to talk about it but I have two weaknesses. To counteract my invisibility, just freeze me and I turn orange. To counteract my radiation, put some concrete slabs or metal slabs around yourself for protection. Lastly, since I’m a villain please don’t think all villains are evil and mean. I’m one of those nice villains. That was a oxymoron but a true one. I am very kind, sweet, and a bit gullible once you get to know me. It’s almost as if I’m split down the middle. Half Hero, Half Villain!

Ian Maggi Grade 8

Friends Forever

He owned a small bodega in Washington Heights. His life was simple. It wasn’t a very adventurous life, but it was all he needed and wanted. Though Luis was happy, he never lived up to what people expected. He was always a good student, always the best in his class. His parents thought he would be a doctor or lawyer. Maybe even an engineer. He never shared the same dreams as his parents, he wanted to be a comedian. He wasn’t very memorable to his audience. He could rarely make them laugh. He knew his kind of humor was different than everyone’s, except Flynn. Flynn loved comedy just like Luis, but never made an effort to make people laugh. He was just in the crowd of each talent show, comedy club, and coffee shop, watching, listening and observing.

Flynn was the only one who thought Luis was funny. They were the best of friends after officially meeting at a coffee shop after one of Luis’ gigs. They started hanging out at Luis’ house, or Flynn’s house, going to the basketball court, coffee shops, parks, comedy clubs. But their favorite place to go was a small bodega on the corner of Laurens St. Luis loved his best friend, but what he liked most were Flynn’s eyes. He thought they were so cool.

Flynn had a blue left eye, and a brown eye that faded into green right eye. They loved to meet up at the bodega every Sunday afternoon. They would buy some sodas, sit outside, and watch the people of Washington Heights go by. They could sit there all day.

Luis never went to college. He thought it was a waste of time. Flynn, on the other hand, had big dreams. He wanted to get his degree and head off to start his career. Luis hated being alone while Flynn was away at college; learning, studying, and observing. They began to see each other less and less. Luis always sat outside every Sunday afternoon with two sodas waiting - w ​ aiting ​- until he knew Flynn wasn’t coming.

Flynn graduated college with his best bud in the crowd watching, just as Flynn had watched Luis at the comedy club years before. Luis hoped he would get to see his friend more because he had graduated and finished school. Unfortunately, Flynn had the perfect job offer 5,000 miles away. A nine to five job 5,000 miles away from his best friend. His choice was to pass up his dream job or say goodbye to the best person he’d ever met.

Flynn showed up to the corner store on a Sunday afternoon. Luis was ecstatic that his friend had finally shown up. Flynn looked at Luis with a blank stare. His vision blurred as salty tears filled his eyelids and finally released in a stream down his cheeks. The tears gushed like a broken faucette. Flynn stood petrified. Luis rushed to comfort him. Flynn knew he had to tell Luis the truth.

“I got an offer for my dream job, but it’s 5,000 miles away,” he whispered.

“So…you’re leaving?” Luis asked frightened of a future without his best friend. Flynn couldn’t bare to look at Luis. “But...”

“I have to,” Flynn interrupted, “It’s my dream job. I’ll visit as much as I can.”

Luis stood up, and grabbed his soda bottle. He lifted the bottle. “Cheers, to a new chapter, where our paths split. You go right, and I go left. I’ll miss this, but your success is more important.” Luis smiled.

“Cheers.” They said in unison.

Once Luis finished his soda, he hugged Flynn with a pat on the back, smiled, and turned to walk home. He was being left behind. It was time to open a new chapter.

***

Luis bought the corner store years later and spent the rest of his days working there. For most, trains in New York are just a source of transportation. People use them daily. They fly by each day, picking up and dropping off people to and from different locations. Hundreds of trains and thousands of passengers walking in and out of each train station every single day. Taking the train is a casualty for the people of Washington Heights, but for one particular man, a rusty old train would take him to a location far more important to him than any other; a corner store.

On the corner of Laurens St., the bodega sits and watches the people of Washington Heights go by. The bodega is owned by an old but cheerful Dominican man who loved his community and the people in it. He sat behind the counter everyday, waiting for the next person to walk into his store. He knew everyone who went there by their first name, and they knew his.

In the morning, Philippe came in before work and got a plain black coffee and a newspaper. After him usually came Rosa. She’d always get a Snickers and a breakfast sandwich before school. Several other came in after them at around 7:30 a.m.

Luis loved having friendly conversations with his customers. His day was made whenever he saw a child’s face light up when their parent bought them a lollipop. Usually from two to four o’clock, workers would come in to pick up lunch. Roofers, carpenters, and construction workers always had a good laugh talking to Luis on their breaks.

One Sunday afternoon, a sunny and calm day, in walked a tall, suspicious man. He limped into the store. Luis had a terrible feeling the tall man was up to no good. His stomach turned, and the hairs on his neck stood up. The tall man wore a long, grey trench coat with a dark red turtleneck, and some dusty leather boots. His long grey hair covered his most of his face. You could barely see through his thick round glasses. The man took a newspaper, walked up to the counter, and dropped it in front of Luis. Luis was incredibly frightend, he could barely look at the tall man. Luis was short, and had gained a few pounds in the past decade or so. He had gotten weaker in his age. What if the tall man tried to rob him, or kill him, maybe kidnap him? Though the tall man was quite scrawny, taller people always have some sort of advantage. Luis mustered up the courage to look the tall man in the eye. What he saw was not a criminal’s eye. He saw a blue left eye, and a brown eye that faded into green right eye, identical to Flynn’s.

Fiorella Malespin Grade 7

Art Portrait of Dorothea Dix

Mary Pavliouk Grade 7

Which Side?

Tyrell Mosley Grade 7 In the Eye

Angelina Alcaraz-Sim Grade 7

On Walden Pond

Fiorella Malespin Grade 7

YAAAAAAAAY

Kurt Keith Grade 7

The Black Panther

What Did I Miss?

Fardeen Khan Grade 7

Mary Pavliouk Grade 7

Women in the Sequel

Mary Pavliouk Grade 7

Gotta Catch ‘Em All

Ryleigh Pagliuso Grade 7

Splash

Fiorella Malespin Grade 7

Special thanks to Mr. Robert Ayer, Ms. Dina Marks, and Mr. Kenneth Saranich for their support.