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Liam Jones, Class of 2012

Ramblings 1. long and muddled speech or writing; 2. a walk without a definite route, taken merely for pleasure; 3. the trilingual literary and visual arts magazine of the Weber School.

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Ramblings 2011—2012

Dedicated to Mr. Sam Bradford for inspiring a renaissance— and for dressing like he just got back from one.

The Weber School 6751 Roswell Road Atlanta, Georgia


Contents Shooting a Bow and Arrow Jaren Mendel

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Una Perspectiva Nueva Adina Karpuj

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13

Eden Axler

‫העולם‬

Diamante Gavriella Mendel

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The Dock Not Taken Aliyah Saulson

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Jeremy Shapiro

‫מצרכים חיונים‬

Sight Insight Jaren Mendel

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Hola, Me Llamo Raul Allie Vandergrift

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Morning Drives Julia Silverman

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My Comforting Love Josh Cohen

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Solamente Soy Yo Amanda Budd

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Fútbol de Fantasía Ari Feldstein

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Lipaz Avigal

Sun Sun Mr. Falling Sun Yarden Lewit

‫הצלחה‬ 26

Aviv Rau ‫עיצובים‬

27 Record Love Anonymous

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Tahoe Frank Spiro

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Jonathan Jacobs

‫לחיות בסרט של השם‬

Danielle Altman

‫מודה אני‬

La Busqueda del Vestido Perfecto Gabi Glaser

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The Serpent and the Fool Jeremy Shapiro

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Give Me One Good Reason Samantha Leff

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Iris Birman

‫עדיין יהודיה‬


La Luz en la Oscuridad Karime Nuñez

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What It Feels Like to Be Perfect Adina Beiner

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El 11 de Septiembre Amanda Mizell

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Adina Karpuj

‫עיניים גדולות‬

Just Waiting Sami Miehl

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I Am Free Rachel Jones

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Washing Away the Worst Day Zane Hellmann

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Anonymous

‫חיי באמריקה‬

The Gravity of Being. Liam Jones

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Your Hands Mollie Bowman

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Erin Beiner

Quiero Ir a Colombia Adam Stoumen 69

Lauren Shapiro

featuring illustrations by Sam Ready and student artwork throughout

‫דיאט קולה‬ 67

‫על תרבות וחוקה‬


Introduction Micha Kerbel

Welcome to the new, rambunctious Weber literary magazine, Ramblings! What is rambling, might you ask? A rambling is any tidbit, poem, story, or any piece of art that expresses the real you. We hope you, Rams, show off your bling, your unique literary and artistic talents, through this magazine. Yes, you! The Weber literary magazine is composed "souly" of stories from the spirits of students, the real Weber Rams. We encourage submissions from shorts stories, to all sorts of essays, poems and visual art varying from English to Hebrew to Spanish. Still confused? Talk to your English teacher or anyone on the Ramblings staff! The most common misconception is that you have to spend time creating new pieces on top of your daily assignments. Ramblings is the perfect place for anything you've written that you want to share with others in the Weber community. But most importantly, don't be embarrassed of anything you write. Make it funny or serious—a dramatic story of an anonymous athlete making a name for himself or it can be a poem where you can express your emotions of any type. The literary magazine is peer-reviewed, and we value each piece of work we receive. We have plans for poetry slams, writing competitions, and more to get you engaged in one of the very privileges our school gladly exercises most: letting the students speak their minds and grow as they please. We implore you to use Ramblings as a basic channel for expressing yourself. Ramble on, my friends, and submit to Ramblings. Enjoy.


Ethan Fialkow


Shooting a Bow and Arrow Jaren Mendel

Venture into the unknown. Disregard the limits--only regard the sky. Mind over matter. Let the movement sink into your muscles. Your heart. Your mind. Your spirit. Repeat, repeat, repeat. Practice does not make perfect--only perfect practice. Train hard; fight easy. Never. Give. Up. About thirty-two feet away was a dream and, just as easily, a nightmare. The target was clad with peeling plastic, moldy and weathered. Its colors complemented each other so well that my eyes struggled to look away. Lying to myself, I think, How nice you look today, Target. Your colors match so well. Impaling the target in the center, the heart, was my only will. Somehow, somehow, the target had avoided my arrow tips from piercing its deathly black bullseye. How have you failed me so many times before, Arrow Tips? Rusted you may be, you pierce the Target’s corners and sides with ease. Why do you fail me in going where I want you to go? The target intercepted my brief talk with my arrow tips, and the scattered holes on it clucked at my naivety. Whizz. Trying to silence the target with another arrow failed once again. My attempt sank slowly south, striking my spirit to considering acknowledging defeat. The trial kicked mud onto the bottom-left corner of the mocking target. Damn! Not again! I smelled defeat--the smell of dirt from where the

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arrow penetrated the earth. Grabbing another arrow from my quiver, I notice how abrasive my rods were, how bleached my feathers were. I made a promise with myself to carve new arrows, pluck new feathers, and forge new tips because defeat was not an option. Many years have gone by since that day, which is vivid in my memory. I am grown now. I am stronger now. I am experienced now. My shoulders no longer ache from holding the bow with an outstretched arm. My biceps no longer become sore with the pull of every string. Callouses have erupted where blood had spilt. My arrows are newly made. My bow upgraded and is now more powerful and more accurate. My quiver, always unfailing, is stronger than a tree trunk hardened by age. Although various conditions have changed, some remain forever. As nervousness sinks in, my palms perspire uncontrollably and shake in fear of a subpar performance. My bow still has gashes from faulty arrows. My string, which makes the bow deadly, is worn with age but taut with constant upkeep and care. The target; the target is unchanged, unmoved, and still, the bullseye remains non-pierced. Although the red surrounding and green ring around the bullseye have been brutally beaten with clusters of holes, I could care less about those successes--my interest lies in the failed attempt at the bullseye. I strut, tying to mask my fear and terror of the target, to the worn area where I have failed many times before. I will lie no more to you, Target. I hate you. Ever since I missed for the first time, I hated you. I do not care how you look, how your plastic sways in the wind--I don’t care. I want your eye. I want your bullseye, and I will not take no for an answer. The target, surprised at my courage, responds. You are worthless to me, Boy. You will never hit me. Ever. Now is the time to prove my worthiness and let the motions, sunk into my muscles from repetition, lead the way to victory. The target snickers once more and taunts me. He shows me his styrofoam and teases me on how I cannot hit him. I wish the birds to silence their chirping. I wish the trees to hush their whispered conversation. Stop mocking me Wind! You mock my frantic breathing patterns and my sighs of disappointment. Concentration escapes me with crickets requesting, demanding

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night--no! The evening’s shadows begin darkening my view, and dusk seeps into the sky. My only limit--the sky--begins squeezing my mind with its dark hand. I snatch my finest and choicest arrow from my quiver. My practice and perseverance will no doubt reward my patience. How could I put in so much effort, patience, practice, blood, sweat, tears, time and not receive just as much, or more, in return? The war is nearly over, but the final battle has just begun. ! Rain begins to fall. Creak of the bow and arrow. Release. I let go.

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Una Perspectiva Nueva Adina Karpuj Un bebe entra al mundo sin ningún prejuicio Un bebe, es indiferente a Los colores de piel El lenguaje Y opiniones sobre la política O la decisión correcta en una situación difícil Un bebe sabe amar y sonreír Conoce el sentimiento de felicidad y amor, Pero no tiene preocupaciones sobre pruebas y tarea O lo que pasa en el resto del mundo Un bebe sabe reír y también llorar Un bebe conoce una conexión fuerte entre gente Y por eso, también conoce soledad Pero, un bebe tiene una ventaja muy especial Un bebe, sin importar su nacionalidad o religión, Puede mirar al mundo con ojos abiertos y sin prejuicios Puede amar sin limites y explorar cada día Con un corazón abierto

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‫העולם‬ ‫‪Eden Axler‬‬ ‫אנשים גרים ברחובות‬ ‫אנשים שלא אוכלים כי אין להם כסף‪.‬‬ ‫יש מלחמות בכל המקומות‪.‬‬ ‫מה לעשות…‬ ‫מה לעשות?‬

‫‪5‬‬

‫אנשים יושבים מול מחשבים‪.‬‬ ‫לא רואים מה קורה בעולם‪.‬‬ ‫ילדים שרק מסתכלים בטלוויזיה‬ ‫מה קרה בעולם?‬ ‫‪10‬‬

‫אבל‪,‬‬ ‫העולם זה מקום מצוין‪.‬‬ ‫עצים‪ ,‬פרחים‪ ,‬מלא חיים‪.‬‬ ‫אנחנו רק צריכים…‬ ‫להסתכל‪.‬‬

‫‪Diamante‬‬ ‫‪Gavriella Mendel‬‬ ‫‪Amigos‬‬ ‫‪Cariñosos, graciosos‬‬ ‫‪Disfrutando, riendo, hablando‬‬ ‫‪Siempre juntos, siempre aparte‬‬ ‫‪Mentirosos, mirando, odiando‬‬ ‫‪Maliciosos, falsos‬‬ ‫‪Enemigos‬‬

‫‪13‬‬


Elana Axler

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The Dock Not Taken Aliya Saulson

Two docks diverged in an aqua ocean, and sorry, I could not travel both. Being "one traveler, long I stood, and looked down one as far as I could," to where it met the tip of the distant horizon (Frost). Two docks diverged in an aqua ocean, and I— "I took the one less traveled by and that has made all the difference" (Frost). Far from the tropics, beyond the blue, and just on the other side of the sun, floats the dock not taken. Have no fear of losing your way to this picture perfect paradise, since twinkling lights guide you along. The path to serenity—the path less traveled by—the path that formulates all the difference is only a few paces away if you opt to trek it. Browns, blues, and whites crowd your vision. Will there be more colors on the other side? What is the universe like at the end of the dock not taken? The salted, crisp cool air's aroma beckons. Biting your lip, you only take one glance behind you, for that is all you need, and then proceed to seize the first step of several on the dock not taken. As Frost claims, that one step will make "all the difference" (Frost). While journeying through the blue, "yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back" (Frost). For if I did return without reaching the route's end, I might forever question what I had neglected. Finally, I paused and settled myself on the edge

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of the rough, blazing tempered wood. Dipping a toe into the world's cool, turquoise tears and letting my ankles dangle off the dock's edge breezed all my cares away. Gazing into the depths of the water, I grasped a glimpse of the wind running through my tangled hair in the mirrored liquid. My reflection seemed unfamiliar; perhaps traveling does that to you. A white wisp in the heavens demanded my attention, tilting my head towards its mysterious arrival amidst a sapphire sky on such a charming day. At that moment, the distance from my origin appeared far greater than the distance to my destination. I was getting closer. With sudden zeal to reach the end of the dock not taken, I elevated myself onto the wood and continued on my exploration to my destination. The sun's sweltering sizzle saddled my shoulders and warmed my moistened bare feet. The fiery planet beamed at me and kept me company with every stride I took. With each step, my perspective altered. At the beginning of my escapade, the end of the dock was the point where the sky folded neatly into the ocean's drawer. From where I now stood, the sea and sky opened up before me, widening my eyes to all the new sites I had yet to uncover. The world was my oyster and nobody else’s. I longed to fly in the cobalt ceiling, alongside the clouds, to these new places. Suddenly, I approached a camel colored curtain, draping to my toes and spilling into the sea. The finish line lay just beyond this partition. Without a second's hesitation, I raised the shield up over my head and swept it behind me. Ahead, I was presented with yet another choice. In front of me, an additional two docks diverged in an aqua ocean. Sorry, I could not travel both. “Somewhere ages and ages hence,” in life’s future endeavors, "I shall be telling this with a sigh” (Frost). Two docks split in aquamarine, and “I—I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference" (Frost).

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‫מצרכים חיונים‬ Jeremy Shapiro

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‫בחיים כל איש צריך לאהוב‬ ‫לחיות לבד זה ממש לא טוב‬ ‫אם זה אח או אחות או אמא או אבא‬ ‫ או חבר בכיתה‬,‫ או סבתא‬,‫סבא‬ ‫ חבר שמקשיב‬,‫חבר שדואג‬ ‫חבר שתוכל לשתף בתחביב‬ ‫אהבת חברים זה ממש נהדר‬ ‫לא צריך להיות כועס או נוטר‬ ‫ואם בידידות יש המון‬ .‫אפשר להיות כמו משפחה‬

Sight Insight Jaren Mendel Oh how I look but I can never see. I look but sight is elusive to all what is presented is in front of thee, but sight insight evades all of man’s brawl. Sight can make man think wrong and trip and fall. Blind men are abled higher in my eyes for they see sight insight to share with all. Their sight grants them to the inner of wise. Blind men have all the sight they need for eyes. Eyes that see only beauty--they see no harm of them--the part of sight insight grows high. Those gifted ones, their eyes, they are a charm for they see me’nings that no one ever could. Know sight insight is best of what is good.

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Hola, Me Llamo Raul Allie Vandergrift Hola, Me llamo Raul, Mi color favorito es azul. Algunos me llaman loco, Pero yo no soy ningun tonto. Me gusta pasar tiempo con mi familia, Y mi perra pequeña Amelia. Yo corro todos los días con mi madre. Y leo libros buenos con mi padre. Yo juego al béisbol los sábados. Y siempre llevo mi sombrero Para protejerme de los rayos. Mi estación favorita es el verano, Son tres meses todos los años. Durante la semana, yo voy a la escuela. Yo me siento en la clase con mi compañera. Mi clase favorita es historia, Y no me gusta la profesora en mi clase de literatura. Para el almuerzo bebo chocolate caliente En el café de mi escuela. Este está entre la sala de computadores Y el parqueadero de afuera. Necesito hacer mi tarea en la computadora, Mejor nosotros hablamos a otra hora.

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Morning Drives Julia Silverman Traffic lights break, tick, and twitch, cars so drive Mornings, routines, and sunsets come and go Crabby keen workers ready to arrive. The sun is rising, ready to survive. Cars honk, disappearing the sun’s shadow Crabby keen workers waiting to arrive.

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Good men, granting cars pass into lanes, thrive While the man in the Porsche sits, wants to know Crabby keen workers thinking to arrive. Wild men, on Harleys do not connive; However, they enlighten golden glows. Crabby keen workers longing to arrive. Wise men, lounging outside, truly alive They see life is not based on status quos. Crabby keen workers itching to arrive. Upgrades, one after the other, subside Workers will think of all thrills wished to know Instead, life was spent on an old flash drive. Crabby keen workers finally arrive.

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My Comforting Love Josh Cohen All day, I think about you; All night, I am comforted by you. Whenever I am away from you, you are all I think about; All night, my dreams are comforted by you. When I need to think, I fall onto you. When I have a problem, I come to you. When I need a break from the world, I lay on you. When I need to get away, I talk to you. My whole life, I want to spend more time with you. My whole life, I want to spend more time with my bed.

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Aliya Saulson

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Solamente Soy Yo Amanda Budd A veces yo hago una pregunta Es ¿quien soy yo? Pienso en esto mucho Y siempre respondo Soy original Y nunca puedo cambiar Nunca, para ti Solamente para mí No soy perfecta Confiarme, yo sé Pero tu opinion no me molesta Porque no me importa Debes amarme Por lo que soy Es como yo vivo Porque, solamente soy yo

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Fútbol de Fantasía Ari Feldstein No hay   juego   más   divertido   y   desa3iante   que   el   del   “fútbol   de   fantasía”  en   espn.com.   Durante   la   temporada   de   fútbol   americano,   pasé   muchas   horas   del   día   creando  estrategias  para   mejorar   mi  equipo.   Quería   tener   el  mejor  equipo   de  mi  liga.   Creí   que   Tom   Brady,   Darren   McFadden,   y   Rashard   Mendenhall   podrían   llevarnos   a   un   campeonato   pero   ellos   no   satis3icieron   mis   expectaciones.  McFadden  rompió  su  pierna  y   no   jugó   por   las   últimas   ocho  semanas  de   la   temporada.   Mendenhall   no   jugó   como   se   esperaba   e   hizo   un   trabajo   horrible.   Tom   Brady   fue   la   sola   estrella   de   mi   equipo   porque  los  otros  jugadores  jugaron  muy  mal.   Por   primera   vez   en   mi   vida,   mi   equipo   no   llegó   a   los   playoffs   de   mi   liga.   Estuve   triste   por  mucho  tiempo   y  me   dolió  ver   como  los   equipos  de  mis  compañeros  de  escuela,  Seth   y  Eytan,   tuvieron   una   temporada   exitosa.   El   ganador   de   mi   liga   en   la   temporada   pasada   fue   Frank  Spiro   y  él  ganó  dinero   y   un  trofeo   por   su   buen   trabajo.   Mi   intención,   para   la   temporada   en   el   año   que   viene   es   hacerla   mucho  mejor.

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‫הצלחה‬ ‫‪Lipaz Avigal‬‬ ‫לכל אחד י ש חלום מ שלו‪ .‬י ש אנשים שרוצים להיות רופאים‪,‬‬ ‫עורכי דין‪ ,‬שחקנים‪ ,‬או אפילו זמרים‪ .‬כל אחד הולך בדרכו השונה‬ ‫בכדי להגשים את רצונו‪.‬‬ ‫מה הופך אנשים ליותר מצליחים מהשניים? יש האומרים שאשיות‬ ‫הבן אדם משנה את רמת הצלחתו‪ ,‬ויש האומרים שזה כמות הכישרון‬ ‫שלו‪ .‬בעיני יש להצלחה קצת יותר מכמות הכישרון או אופן הביטוי של‬ ‫הבן אדם‪ .‬למשל מיילי סירוס או ליידי גאגא הן שתיהן הרבה יותר‬ ‫מצליחות מזמרים אחרים כמו ג’ושוע ריידין‪.‬‬ ‫יש הרבה דרכים להגיע להצלחה‪ ,‬אבל זה כוח הרצון והתמדה שבאמת‬ ‫עושים את השינוי‪ .‬ליידי גאגא למשל‪ ,‬עשתה כל שביכולתה בכדי‬ ‫שהסביבה תשים לב אליה‪ ,‬היא אפילו לבשה חתיכות בשר כשמלה‬ ‫לאירוע מסויים‪ .‬לפי התיאוריה הזאת‪ ,‬אנשים שעושים ומנסים דברים‬ ‫שונים הם אלה שמצליחים בחיים‪ .‬בעצם‪ ,‬בכדי להגיע להצלחה בכל‬ ‫תחום‪ ,‬אפילו ברפואה ובמשחק‪ ,‬צריך להיות מקוריים‪ .‬צריך לקחת‬ ‫סיכונים ולנסות דברים שאחרים אפילו לא העלו בדעתם שהם‬ ‫אפשריים‪.‬‬ ‫המפתח להצלחה הוא יחודיות‪ .‬כשמישהו מראה צד לא מוכר לחברה‪,‬‬ ‫זה מאתגר ומסקרן אותנו‪ ,‬הציבור‪ ,‬להתבונן ולבחון את הלא ברור‪.‬‬ ‫בכדי לזכות בהצלחה ובפרסום‪ ,‬אני חושבת שאנשים צריכים לוותר על‬ ‫חלק קטן מעצמם‪ .‬חייה של ליידי גאגא סובבים את התקשורת ומה‬ ‫אחרים חושבים עליה‪ .‬הפרטיות שלה נאכלת יום אחרי יום על ידי‬ ‫המדור הצהוב שנכתב בכדי לבקר אותה‪.‬‬ ‫בעולם שלנו‪ ,‬אני לא חושבת שצריך להיות מפורסם כדי להיות‬ ‫מצליח‪ .‬בעיני הצלחה אמיתית היא להיות מסוגל לשמור על מי שאתה‬ ‫באמת ולעשות מה שאתה אוהב‪.‬‬ ‫‪25‬‬


Sun Sun Mr. Falling Sun Yarden Lewit In all the gloomy days when I looked up to the sea I didn’t think he’d fail me, I thought he’d maybe chase me Even so, I coldly sit and wait for him to shine Although I know the flowers whither, too, at his sight But he touches me with the softest of his rays The moment is unmistakably unfazed And that peaceful second, as they all do, Burns over into a merciless one of black and blue

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The bright ones that lure outside in their fake passions Riding their bikes, kissing their children, 10 Sunbathing in the sun’s distractions, Have yet to discover its saddest, darkest might That the sun will fall again tonight and leave nothing but night

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‫עיצובים‬ ‫‪Aviv Rau‬‬ ‫בעולם חו שבים שעיצוב פנים רוא רק דבר רדוד‪ ,‬אבל ההפך הוא‬ ‫הנכון‪ .‬אני חושבת שעיצוב פנים יכול להפוך חדר למקום קדוש‪.‬‬ ‫בשבילי עיצוב פנים מראה לעולם את כל מה שמשנה וחשוב לי בחיי‪.‬‬ ‫עם עיצוב פנים אני יכולה להראות לאנשים לא רק איזה סיגנון של‬ ‫ריהוט אני אוהבת‪ ,‬אלא גם איך אני רואה את הדברים מסביבי‪ ,‬ואיך‬ ‫אני חושבת‪.‬‬ ‫כמו כן‪ ,‬עיצוב פנים מספק לאנשים יצירתיים דרכים לכוון את‬ ‫היצירתיות שלהם‪ .‬לא צריכים הרבה זמן או הרבה כסף לקשט חדרים‬ ‫משגעים ‪ --‬רק צריכים יצירתיות‪.‬‬ ‫אבל‪ ,‬בשבילי הדבר הכי מגניב בעיצוב פנים הוא שלכל איש ואישה יש‬ ‫סגנון לגמרי שונה‪ .‬אני חושבת שגם סגנון הריהוט שאהוב עלי הוא‬ ‫שונה מהסגנון של כל אחד אחר‪ .‬לסיכום‪ ,‬עיצוב פנים זה חשוב‪.‬‬ ‫לדעתי שעיצוב פנים אינו דבר חסר משמעות ורדוד‪ ,‬כי דרכו אפשר‬ ‫ללמוד הרבה מאוד על בני אדם‪ .‬אפשר ללמוד כיצד אדם רואה את‬ ‫החיים‪ ,‬ולראות את העולם דרך העיניים שלו!‬

‫‪27‬‬


Allie Vandergrift

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Record Love Anonymous The love we share is a melody, We’re so different, but somehow we are a harmony. Your voice is the only track I’d press the replay button for, And the only tune stuck in my head all day long. Whenever I’m feeling low, I can just turn you up Like the volume control. You are the turntable needle that stops me Whenever I’m spinning crazy. I’ll always keep you clean -- no scratches And never play you like the rest of them. Always know that my heart is a record player That plays for you only.

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Tahoe Frank Spiro

When my brother and I stopped for the night in Nevada’s Tahoe National Forest, I was scared. It was the first night of our cross-country road trip—traveling in style in my brother’s newly purchased 1976 Chevy pickup truck—when suddenly we found ourselves in the middle of the forest in pitch black night. Daniel pulled the car over to a small clearing, left the headlights running, and told me to grab the tent. “Are you serious?” I asked him. I was sure that pulling to the side of the road to camp out was illegal; regardless, if we weren’t caught by humans, we certainly would be eaten by the animals. Daniel laughed off my worries, insisting we were going to be just fine, and though I was still a little nervous, we went to work putting up our tent and eating some prepared peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. After readying our sleeping bags I stumbled to the truck and turned off the headlights. That’s when the real fear set in. It wasn’t fear of injury or getting into trouble that gripped me at that point; if the police came, they might make us leave, but they wouldn’t throw us in jail, and I had only to think back to kindergarten to remember that most animals are more afraid of us than we are of them. No, this fear was something else entirely. It was not knowing what was going to happen. It was being left alone, away

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from home and everything I knew, in the dark, both figuratively and literally. Daniel quickly fell asleep, while I was left abandoned, lying wide-awake staring up through the mesh roof of our tent at the starry sky with only my thoughts and the wilderness surrounding me. Though the thought had occurred to me before, for the first time in my entire life, I truly realized just how small I was. How small my fears, my worries, and my anxieties could ever be. It hit me like a punch to the mind. There’s massive space out there, and when those stars shine bright nothing is more awe-inspiring. It’s like gazing into the window of the heavens and just understanding. My experience that night in Tahoe was what some refer to as a moment of transcendence. For the first time, I was able to sit back and listen, to look without bias at the world around me. It is not that my fear simply disappeared, but my confrontation with fear, for at least a few moments, allowed a deeper barrier within me to melt away: a barrier of judgment. For a moment I gained perspective on my place in the universe; I was able to understand how my judgment of other people, other things, just about everything, so often got in the way of my happiness. Only then was I able to appreciate the starry sky for the beautiful meaningful space that it is.

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‫לחיות בסרט של השם‬ ‫‪Jonathan Jacobs‬‬ ‫אנחנו רק שחקנים החיים בסרט של השם‪.‬‬ ‫אנחנו חושבים שאנחנו עושים החלטות‪,‬‬ ‫אבל העתיד שלנו כבר כתוב באבן‪.‬‬ ‫אז למה השם נתן לנו רע בחיים שלנו?‬ ‫כי הוא כמונו‪ ,‬אנחנו נוצרנו כדמותו‪,‬‬ ‫אז יש לנו תכונות דומות‪.‬‬ ‫הוא לא יותר טוב מאיתנו‪.‬‬ ‫אבל אני מתפלל להשם‪,‬‬ ‫כי אני יודע הוא יכול להרוס או לבנות אותי‪.‬‬ ‫אני אוהב את השם מתוך אהבה ולא מפחד‪,‬‬ ‫אבל איך אני יכול לאהוב דבר‬ ‫שאני אף פעם לא ראיתי‪ ,‬שמעתי או פגשתי?‬

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‫מודה אני‬ ‫‪Danielle Altman‬‬

‫תנו לי עוד חמש דקות‬ ‫העיניים נפתחות טיפ טיפה‬ ‫סוגרים אותן עוד פעם‬ ‫או קי‪ -‬בסדר הן פתוחות!‬ ‫הכל חושך וכל הגוף מכוסה וחמים‬ ‫הברכיים כמעט נוגעות בפנים‬ ‫יד על יד מתחת לראש‬ ‫חצי מהפנים על הכרית‪ ,‬החצי השני עדין בחלום‬ ‫יש רעש שלא מפסיק‪ -‬ביפ ביפ‪....‬‬ ‫מה זה?‬ ‫זה זמן להתעורר‪ ,‬בוקר טוב!‬ ‫הכדור שהיה במיטה הופך לאיש ויוצא לעולם‬ ‫לעוד יום אחד‪-‬‬ ‫יוצא בלי פחד‬ ‫בגלל שהשם נתן לו עוד יום לנשום‬ ‫ויש לו מזל‪ ,‬כי לא יודעים מתי איש לא יתעורר פתאום‬ ‫אז אל תחשבו שלהתעורר זה משהו מפריע‪,‬‬ ‫כי לא אל כולם‪ ,‬הבוקר מגיע‪.‬‬

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La Búsqueda del Vestido Perfecto Gabi Glaser Cada año, cuando se acerca el mes de enero, se me sube la bilirrubina. La danza formal del colegio, ocurre a fines de enero. ¿Quién me va a invitar al baile? ¿Qué vestido voy a usar.? ¿Qué zapatos van a combinar con el vestido? Y la búsqueda comienza, mucho antes de enero. Bloomies, Macy's, BCBG y el internet son los campos de batalla. No solo por el vestido que me quede mejor, pero también por un vestido que creo que nadie va a tener. Si voy muy temprano a las tiendas, corro el riesgo de comprar algo que otras niñas pueden comprar, y a precios mas caros. Si voy alrededor de el final de diciembre, los vestidos son muy de discoteca, porque es la moda para las fiestas de año nuevo. La primera semana de enero es el mejor tiempo para la búsqueda. Hay devoluciones y rebajas especiales. El problema es encontrar algo bonito. Desesperada, comienzo a probar todos los vestidos que me quedan a mi medida o mas grades. Me gusta éste, pero no tienen un color que me guste, ¿qué tal éste otro? No tienen mi medida. Frustrada me siento a buscar en la computadora por horas. Hago una pre elección y le muestro a mi consejera económica, mi mamá. Terminamos ordenando 5 vestidos para ver cual me queda mejor.

34


Los vestido finalmente lleagan a la casa. Los abro inmediatamente, subo a mi cuarto a buscar el sostén sin correas, ¿dónde está? La última vez que lo usé fue para el baile del año pasado. Maaaaaaa! grito desde mi cuarto, ¿dónde está mi sostén de fiesta? Termino encontrándolo en la cajonera de las medias. ¿Cómo es que está alla,? es un misterio. Mi madre sube a ver como me queda cada uno de ellos y con un ojo crítico comenta sin parar. Mi padre está abajo leyendo las noticias y ni sabe la revolución que pasa en mi cuarto. Finalmente decido por un vestido de color fucsia, pero hay que acortarlo y arreglarlo un poco. Bajo a mostrarselo a mi padre y el me dice que luzco como una princesa y que me cuide, ya que todos los mozos van a estar detras de mi. Pero ahora a buscar zapatos, algo con taco y que no se salgan de mis pies. Después de días de arduo trabajo, tengo el conjunto ideal. Y ¿quién dice que la belleza es natural?

35


Ben Stolovitz

36


The Serpent and the Fool Jeremy Shapiro Snail-like

sloths slither down the road that is oft trod Hooved horse makes paths from deep and mucky sod The already marked road, the conventional picks And right ‘round the fool’s neck, the great boa constricts The forced crush of the coil splits the cord from its track And Eve falls in Eden, her light ne’er to come back With satanic forked tongue, scaly body so thick And right ‘round the fool’s neck, the great boa constricts

5

Lucky ones who are birthed open-minded and bold Know in their fiery hearts, the vast jungle is cold 10 The Snake kills the slow-wits, but cannot touch the quick And right ‘round the fool’s neck, the great boa constricts But horses don’t trip over Satan’s tricks The quick horses ride on while the boa constricts

37


Give Me One Good Reason Samantha Le Penelope lay alone in her bed as she had for the past 7,300 days. The tree standing at the head of her bed--once beautiful and flourishing--had grown withered and tired over time, like her aching heart for her master Odysseus. The leaves longed for a brisk spring breeze or the cleansing rains of fall. Each day the tree waited and waited, but it waited in vain. Penelope felt no sympathy for the tree, for she had waited twenty sunless years for her long-lost love. Memories of her loving husband tormented her mind and the night seemed to go on forever. Deliberating about her husband was slowly driving her mad. Disturbing images flashed before her eyes of Odysseus being tossed to the depths of the ocean like a tomato in a salad. Then, almost instantly, he was being devoured by a Cyclops. She could stand it no longer. Her heartache was too much to bear and very slowly, as to not wake her maids, she slipped from her bed. She retrieved a rope and slyly, like a vixen, she propped a tall chair under one of the tree branches. Penelope tied one sturdy knot around one of the tree’s branches and, on the other end of the rope, she made a noose. Bringing the loop around her neck, Penelope welcomed death. The little bit of hope left in her dissented from her actions; hope pleaded with her to wait, just one more day, for Odysseus. Antinous crept across the threshold and into the sacred bed chamber without

38


knocking, trying to sneak into the room without awakening any of the suitors or maidens. Startled, Penelope jumped and knocked over the chair. The branch snapped under her weight, and she fell to the ground. Penelope the brokenhearted lay crumpled on the ground. When Antinous saw Penelope, he ran to her side and helped her onto the bed. Upon sensing Antinous’s presence by her side, Penelope realized that Odysseus should be beside her, not Antinous. This fact hurt her than the fall. She began to weep as Antinous held her close to him. Time flew by as the black panther stalked his white dove. Smoothly, Antinous said, “Surely, Penelope, my eyes have deceived me, for it could not have been you upon the stool, ready to slip into the underworld? What would Odysseus have felt should he return tomorrow and find his bride dead?” She looked up at him with remorse filled eyes because she had not thought of the pain Odysseus would have felt. “Or, perhaps do you think the glorious soldier is dead long perished like the Trojan War and want to join him? Could you be not so innocent--maybe even devilish--and hope that Odysseus would find you dead and feel the pain you have endured over the years?” Antinous questioned. Now anger filled her and she pulled herself away from him feeling nothing but disgust for the odious suitor. The white dove fluttered above the black panther’s groping claws. He continued on none the less, “I respect the latter, as much as I respect you. Who would not want to wreak revenge on those who have caused them distress?” Penelope was disgusted with herself for she knew her motive was not to end her pain, but to inflict pain on Odysseus. “Why will you not succumb to the pleasure I can give to you? While he has been away for twenty years, I have been here. I have been faithful to you, even though you have been unyielding to me. Does that not prove me more trustworthy and reliable than he? Soon your beauty shall fade and your fertility shall vanish-- will he stay as faithful to you as I have been? Who will take care of you in your old age? Surely not Telemakos, your only son, who cannot even take care of himself. I can provide you with not only many children to take care of you but a loyal husband who will

39


stay by your side. So tell me Penelope, why will you not enter the haven I can provide for you?” The dove lowered a little in the air, tempted by the black panther. “I should not--no, I cannot--be your bride Antinous. You of all men should know that. What if Odysseus is not dead?” stammered Penelope. “But Penelope,” stated Antinous, “if Odysseus is not dead, then what has taken him so long? Have the gods delayed him, or worse, punished him rendering him incapable of returning home to you? Do you really want to be a foe to the gods just because your husband has done an evil act that has offended them? The gods have nothing against me and would favor you if you were my wife. They are giving us a sign that we are supposed to be together.” Now the dove was in the black panther’s grasp. Penelope was speechless. She could draw no words from her mind because Antinous had captured her with his words; all she could do was shake her head no. Antinous groveled, “My darling, why is it you turn away from me? Have you not suffered enough? Not only do you face the pain from afar with your husband, but you feel it here in your home. The townspeople speak of you, call you a harlot, a whore, for wooing so many suitors. The lust I feel for you, must be as strong as what you feel for Odysseus. Everyday I die a little inside knowing a dead man is worth more to you than I. An unseen, long forgotten man’s only connection to the living world has been through an innocent, love struck woman for twenty long years. I know a stunning woman like you wants children and to hear their delightful laughs as they play with their parents. You want to feel the warmth of a man next to you every night rather than the loneliness of this empty bed. So tell me, Penelope, why do you not only deny me, but deny yourself happiness?” Finally, Penelope, the white dove, flew close to Antinous, the black panther, and the black panther received his pleasure from the white dove.

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41


Hannah Young

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‫עדיין יהודיה‬ ‫‪Iris Birman‬‬

‫כל העולם משתנה ‪ ,‬אבל אני עדין יהודיה‪,‬‬ ‫אני יכולה לגור במקום אחר ואני עדין יהודיה‪,‬‬ ‫אני יכולה ללכת לבית ספר אחר שאני אוהבת‪,‬‬ ‫אני יכולה ללכת לבית ספר שאני שונאת‪ ,‬ואני עדיין יהודיה‪.‬‬ ‫כל העולם משתנה‪ ,‬אבל אני עדיין יהודיה‪,‬‬

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‫אני יכולה לומר שאני אמריקנית‪,‬‬ ‫אבל אני רוצה לומר שאני יהודיה‪,‬‬ ‫אני יכולה לעשות דברים טובים‬ ‫ואני יכולה לעשות דברים שאינם טובים‪,‬‬ ‫‪10‬‬

‫אני יכולה לדבר הרבה שפות‪,‬‬ ‫אני יכולה לגור בארצות רבות‪,‬‬ ‫ואני עדיין יהודיה‪.‬‬

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La Luz en la Oscuridad Karime Nuñez Durante las noches solitarias, cuando el sol se escondía debajo de la tierra y la oscuridad emergía mientras la luna despertaba, una triste niña vivía dentro de una casa abandonada y destruida. La casa se escondía entre los arboles en un paisaje muy hermoso pero tenebroso. La casa tenía una historia muy triste que empujaba a la gente lejos de ahí. Hace muchos años la casa sufrió una triste tragedia. La casa fue destruida y quemada por un grupo de personas que no se sentían seguros con la existencia de la casa. Es como si la casa tuviera control sobre las emociones de la gente que se atrevía a estar en su presencia. Pero en fin, la casa fue quemada pero esa noche, llena de tristeza, empezó a llover y la casa sobrevivió. Ahora vive una niña no mas de doce años que fue abandonada cuando tenia siete ahí. Su tristeza no es por la casa. La casa es lo único que tiene. La casa es su familia, hogar y amistad. Las lágrimas que caen de su carita de porcelana caen por que su todo impide que ella conozca a gente. Ha tratado de escapar pero nadie se escapa de esa casa.

44


What it Feels Like To Be Perfect Adina Beiner Waking up everyday knowing that I get to grace the world with my presence makes it worth getting out of bed. People think that being perfect is easy, but don’t be fooled. Perfection comes with great responsibility. It is not something that can be achieved or learned, it is simply a gift bestowed upon a select few. Every morning I am forced to wake up and prepare for my day just like the rest of the world. I brush my teeth, put my pants on one leg at a time, and attend school. What sets me apart is that my perfection forces me to strive to flawlessly complete my daily tasks. Each day, I attempt to keep the reverence of my peers and remind myself I cannot fall short of perfection. The most challenging aspect of being perfect is knowing I must live up to the expectations placed before me. Naturally, I am considered a role model. Therefore, I am required to make sure that I uphold certain standards. I must constantly be aware of my actions and I will always be forced to live with the burdening task of epitomizing perfection. Maintaining my perfection is no modest feat. It demands more energy than one would presume. Nevertheless, the

45


fact that each day I am rewarded with the opportunity to allow others to bask in my excellence makes all the stress worth it. I was not always so comfortable with being in the spotlight. After my initial joy of discovering my flawlessness, I came to resent my utter perfection. I hated being responsible for constantly upholding my image and acting as a role model for so many. My perfection pushed me to live in constant fear that I would inevitably disappoint someone. During this complex period I stopped viewing my perfection as a gift and perceived it as an inconvenience. I wondered, why me? I hadn’t asked for perfection. I realized that I hadn’t chose perfection, perfection chose me. Ultimately I was able to overcome my struggles and embrace my perfection. Now, I have fully accepted the responsibilities that accompany perfection. At times it is lonely, not having many others to identify with. I am no longer burdened by my perfection, I see it as an opportunity to help others strive to achieve their best in life. By ensuring that I can always serve as a paragon of perfection to all, I provide people with someone whom will always set a positive example. Recognizing my perfection has been a journey. I realized that being perfect is not simply a gift, but a calling. Every one has something to offer society, and I bring perfection to the table. It fills me with joy seeing people attempt to emulate my excellence and I can only hope the future arrives yielding more perfect individuals like myself.

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47


Aliya Saulson

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El 11 de Septiembre Amanda Mizell Antes de los aviones chocaron en los edificios del World Trade Center, era un día normal. Los niños estaban en la escuela y aprendían historia de los Estados Unidos. La gente en el World Trade Center estaba trabajando en sus computadoras. Chicas iban a las tiendas a comprar ropa. Parejas desayunaban en sus restaurantes favoritos. Había mucha gente en las calles de la ciudad de Nueva York. De repente, el primer avión chocó en el primer Twin Tower. La gente en la calle paró y miró mientras el edificio explotó. Ellos se quedaron boquiabiertos y corrieron lejos del edificio. En el World Trade Center, toda la gente tenía miedo. Mucha gente se escapó antes del edificio se derrumbó, pero mucha gente se quedó atrapada en el edificio, y se murió. La gente estaba gritando y llamó a su familia a ver si ellos estaban bien. Los estudiantes en la escuela se fueron a sus casas, y muchos padres de los niños se murieron. Después, un otro avión chocó en el segundo Twin Tower. ¡Era terrible! Rápidamente, el segundo edificio se derrumbó. Toda la gente en los Estados Unidos estaba mirando las noticias mientras los edificios estuvieron destruidos. Ellos estaban muy tristes. Este día cambió los Estados Unidos eternamente. Hoy, americanos se glorían por su país, y cantan el himno nacional antes de todos los juegos de deportes. El sistema de seguridad en los aeropuertos y otros lugares públicos se mejora. Mientras este acontecimiento era una tragedia, traía junto nuestro país y enseñaba a nosotros amar nuestra familia y amigos más.

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‫עיניים גדולות‬ ‫‪Adina Karpuj‬‬

‫יש משהו מעוד מיוחד‬ ‫בצורה שאנו חושבים‬ ‫כאשר רק נולדים‪ ,‬כילדים‪,‬‬ ‫אנחנו יכולים להיות משפועים בקלות‬ ‫ובזמן שגדלים לומדים‬ ‫ימין משמאל‬ ‫ואת מי לאהוב ואת מי לשנוא‬ ‫זה נראה שכשמבוגרים יותר הם עיוורים יותר‬ ‫ומלאים דעות קדומות‬ ‫אבל לתינוק‪ ,‬יש עיניים גדולות שרואות את העולם‬ ‫בלב פתוח‬ ‫אפילו שאין לתינוק חינוך פורמלי‪,‬‬ ‫תינוק הוא חכם בצורה שלו‬ ‫בלי דעות קדומות מאחרים שממלאים אותו‪,‬‬ ‫הוא יודע לאהוב בלי גבולות‬ ‫ולחקור כל יום בלי ציפיות‬ ‫כמו שתינוק יכול לחייות חיים ללא פחדים‬ ‫אנו גם ננסה לראות כל יום‬ ‫עם ראש נקי‬ ‫עיניים גדולות‬ ‫ולגשת לכל מצב‬ ‫עם לב פתוח‬

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‫‪15‬‬

‫‪20‬‬


Just Waiting Sami Miehl I stay in the same spot everyday, waiting for someone to deposit ninety cents into the vending machine. It’s not bad in the vending machine; it is always kept at a cool temperature to make sure that the chocolate candies don’t melt. The chocolate candies and potato chips are always the first ones to be sold out. I’ve never been sold out, and I understand why. Who wants to buy a box of raisins from a vending machine? Who wants to eat raisins in the first place? If I was a human and I could buy something from the vending machine, I know I would never buy a box of raisins for ninety cents. In the mean time, I guess I will just relax in the same spot as I have always been. Besides, once someone realizes that nobody buys raisins; I’ll probably be thrown out and replaced with something better. But until then, I just keep waiting. Life before living in the vending machine was rather dull. It mainly consisted of sitting in a storage box or on the shelf at a grocery store. I have to say, living life in a storage box was the worst. It was dark and hot, and I would just lie there all day and night thinking about when I would get out. Wasting away in the box, I had a lot of time to think. I started questioning everything. What are raisins made of? Why would

51


anybody want to eat something with the same texture as a wrinkly old person? Why am I stored in a box? However, after so long I just stopped caring because it didn’t matter if I came up with an answer to these questions, I was still a box of raisins. I was just waiting for new scenery. After all that waiting I was finally transferred; I was placed in a pack of raisins on a shelf at a grocery store. When I looked beside me I see a box of raisins, but it said Publix brand. I also noticed that they were almost a dollar cheaper than my package. Now, I knew Iwas going to be here awhile because who would want to buy my expensive box of raisins when the package next to me is seventy five cents cheaper? I also eyed a bag of craisins. If people don’t want regular raisins, why would they want to by cranberry raisins? Yet, shockingly, craisins are always sold out before the Publix brand raisins are. Day after day, I sat on the shelf just waiting to be sold, but that day never came. After so many days at Publix, I was moved to a new location. I was placed into a vending machine, where now I was finally not in a package of raisins, I was now a single box of raisins, individually trying to be sold. When I think about it, the chances of me getting sold were very low now that I was in a vending machine. How was I even supposed to compete with chocolate, chips, and candy? I’ve accepted the fact that I wont be bought. I have grown accustomed to living in the vending machine; I even find it homey. Day after day, I see all the other items being bought by kids craving a snack. I want to say that I envy the other foods, but I don’t. I actually enjoy the simple and laid back life in the vending machine. I stay in the same spot day after day waiting for one famished kid to deposit ninety cents into the vending machines and select E3.

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Ben Tetenbaum

53


I Am Free Rachel Jones You left me. With your pretentious smirk And those piercing eyes, Forever to be scarred by your cackle and your strength. You betrayed me.

5

I thought I loved you, I thought you cared. You were my idol, my guide. My source of wisdom and light-- how very dark you were. You fought to control me, You lead me astray.

10

I was melted, frozen, melted, frozen again. Chained to your impossible love and Hung by your ironclad fists I once longed to hold. My hands, so much like yours. 15 Will You release me? May I have Your permission to leave the jail You’ve thrown me in? No! F-f-forgive me, I m-m-m-mean to say, “G-gr-great All-Knowing Honorable S-S-Sir, It is my greatest p-privilege to stay c-c-captive Here in the cell in wh-which You have so M-M-Merc-c-cifully and gr-gr-gracefully P-p-placed me!” I love You.

54

20


Yes Sir, I owe You everything. 25 I beg of You, allow your snakes to coil around my all-too-willing heart-If it means Your love. . . I will stay here forever And ever and ever. Throw away the key-I need not the outside world. They will hurt me. They are evil. They do not love me. You Sir, You love me.

30

35

You care for me. You love me. You love me. You love me. You love me.

40

Say it again. Say You love me. Praise me. Hurt me. Praise me. Give me Your coveted stamp of approval. Give me Your lies And Your evil and Your lies And Your lies and Your lies And Your lies. Turn me and turn me and turn me Like a sparkling happy child on a merry-go-round Round Round.

55

45

50


Give me Your caramel apples. Give me Your toasty funnel cakes. Burn my tongue. Don’t stop. Keep going. I need Your control. I need Your strength. Let me spin and spin and spin. I long for You.

55

60

NO! I hate you. I hate what you’ve made me become. Leave. Get out. Leave before I do unto you as you have done unto me.

65

I return to you your handcuffs And your leash and your strings. Give them to someone else. I have played that part too long. I’ve done my time on your stage of perfection and love, Following your every word and stance— While you operated the trap door. Close the curtains, lower the lights. Take your final bow. Rage fills the audience. I am tired tired tired tired.

70

You are the criminal. I am innocent, Innocent, Innocent.

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75

80


You are a liar. A cheat, A scumbag, A jail warden. I am innocent innocent innocent.

85

The fault lies within your roughened heart. I am just I am kind I am loved.

90

I don’t need you. You are the parasite On my peaceful soul. I need not your pretentious smirk And those piercing eyes.

95

I am free.

57


Washing Away The Worst Day Zane Hellmann In the mirror I saw two ears and two nostrils and one set of teeth with my brown eyes. I saw from where I was standing, and saw the details in my bathroom mirror. Everything that I could not see from a distance, I saw from a close up photograph. I saw stubbly hairs, little swollen pores, browns eyes, hair, a pink tongue, skin, zits, black pupils, bits of dandruff in my hair, and a shallow philtrum that was hardly noticeable. I saw a slender neck, a long torso, two arms slender but still somewhat muscular, two ten fingered hands, two scars on the sides of my stomach one long and narrow the other thick and concise – saw all these traits not a bit like the young boy seeing his unblemished body, which was after all never exposed to the outdoors or puberty, but with an entirely different point of view. I was the product of sports accidents and a high metabolism. For me the blood that pulsed through my body began at the heart and spread to the distant extremities; bone marrow produced and grew cell by cell in bones; platelets fixed gashes in skin and swam slowly through my blood stream; skin cells reproduced quickly after a scrape or simply flaked off when left to dry in the summer sun; neurons toiled in the back of my brain stem and muscles flexed in and out – these

58


were some of the things that gave me something to look at and, as the whole system swayed and thundered onward, it lent a feverish bloom to such processes of mine like looking in the mirror, observing the flush of my face as the steam from the shower heated the bathroom. I observed very simple attributes, looking at myself for my own doom, but observed them so accurately that there still seemed to be grace in every sinew, and presently I would try to admire it. Four words stuck in the back of my head, a kind thank you that seemed to pull out the carpet from underneath me and sent me sprawling head first into another world of uncertainty. “Thank you for applying.� It was one of the few sentences that seemed to give the worst possible news in the best possible way. The steam from my shower was now slowly clouding the mirror, and the details of my being slowly vanished until I was nothing but an outline that seemed to blend in with world around it. I turned, pulled aside the polka-dotted curtain, put my hand out to feel if the water was at the right temperature, quickly adjusted the faucets to make a little cooler, and stepped into the shower. I had been in a car accident earlier that day, and then found out I would have to wait until March to see if I would get into a college, yet as the water caressed my head and then rolled down my skin and eventually into the drain everything seemed to be washed away. I emerged from the ablution neither happy nor joyful. I was simply standing again in front of the mirror and could see now what I admired in the person standing before me.

59


Chase Alifeld

60


‫חיי באמריקה‬ ‫‪Anonymous‬‬

‫יש כמה דברים שמצערים אותי כאמריקנית –ישראלית‪,‬‬ ‫למשל כשאני מנסה להסביר לחברות שלי על החשיבות‬ ‫של צה"ל ואיך הרעיון שבלי תפקיד בצבא‪ ,‬קשה למצוא‬ ‫עבודה בישראל‪ ,‬הוא לא דבר נוראכי הצבא מעצב מעצב‬ ‫את האנשים ומכין אותם היטב לשאר החיים‪.‬‬ ‫וחשוב יותר‪ ,‬בקושי שלי של געגועי למשפחה שלי‬ ‫בארץ‪ ,‬עם אחות אחת באוניברסיטה‪ ,‬אחות אחת בצבא‪,‬‬ ‫וסבתא שלי שעובדת במפעל שלה כל היום‪ ,‬אין הרבה זמן‬ ‫לדבר בטלפון‪ .‬הזכרונות של משפחתינו עם כל בני‬ ‫הדודים‪ ,‬דוקרים אותי כשאני כאן והם שם‪.‬‬ ‫כשאני מבקרת פעם בשנה‪ ,‬אני שמחה ביותר אפילו בלי‬ ‫לצאת או לראות הצגה‪ ,‬רק להשאר בדירה של סבטא‬ ‫ולצפות בסרטים ולאכול גלידונים עם כל הבנות‪ .‬אחרי‬ ‫החופש "ההורס" הזה‪ ,‬קשה לחזור הבייתה לאטלנטה‪.‬‬ ‫ולבסוף‪ ,‬הקטע שהכי קשה לי להבין והכי מצער אותי‪,‬‬ ‫הוא העתיד שלי‪ .‬כולנו נחזור לישראל לאחר שאסיים את‬ ‫התיכון ואני הכי שמחה בעולם שעוד כמה חודשים אני‬ ‫נתאחד עם משפחתינו‪ ,‬אבל אני אתגעגעלכל חבריי ולביתי‬ ‫השני‪ .‬גדלתי פה וחייתי פה יותר מחצי חיי‪.‬‬ ‫למדתי גם דברים טובים כאן‪ ,‬שרק לי כישראלית שחיה‬ ‫בארצות הברית הייתה לי את ההזדמנות לחוות הייתה‬ ‫להזדמנות לחיות בשתי העולמות למזג בין שתי תרבויות‬ ‫שונות לגמרי‪.‬‬

‫‪61‬‬


The Gravity of Being. Liam Jones I was five and it was snowing and I was happy in my mittens: nothing could stop me. I cast one into the sky—the roof took it. But I ended the rescue before He could see the rocks I’d thrown to get it down. As He picked me up by my collar and explained to me how evil I was, I determined He wasn’t happy. ◦

I woke up in tears. I didn’t deserve this. The vacation, the presents. So what if I turned ten, I wasn’t worthy. I was a burden. I apologized for myself. ◦

I wanted to fix my stutter. Mom said a doctor could help. He told me I chose to stutter. That’s not what the doctor said. He said they just wanted our money. The doctor had Him sit in on our session. I didn’t like that. ◦

My sister thought I was bluffing, but I’d been thinking about it the whole car ride. He was in the store, He couldn’t stop me. I couldn’t take the screaming, the hitting. So I got out. I walked home. Until He grabbed my arm and pushed me back into the car. •

He made me sit in the backseat for the summer. He gave me manuals on respect. He said he’d take me to the railroad tracks and beat me. I wouldn’t let him. •

His computer wasn’t working. It was my fault, he told me, as I chopped pineapple. He told me other things that night,

62


things that inspired me to tape my door shut and move my furniture in front of it. I asked Mom to leave him for my sake. She didn’t. So I did. •

My grandmother—Mama—told me she was “happy to have me,” as she prepared our hors d’oeuvres. It turned out she’d meant all those invitations to move in. I spent my sixteenth birthday at her apartment. I spent that summer at her apartment. I spent that year at her apartment. She spent her last with me. •

My sister’s Bat Mitzvah proved difficult. I could stand the spiteful remarks, the criticisms. He couldn’t. It was the party: he heard me make a joke too blasphemous. My head suffered the consequences. So I reciprocated, for the first time. I’m sure it hurt me more than it did him. This time, he left. I didn’t need to. •

As I stood over Mama’s hospital bed, surrounded by my Family, I understood what she’d meant to me. She had been a haven, a friend, an ally. I didn’t have that anymore. •

As I pedaled home from school, I saw him. I saw through him. I heard him. I heard nothing. •

I look in the mirror—I don’t see tears: I see the gravity of being. Of proaction. Of survival. I see myself. I see someone worth fighting for.

63


Your Hands Mollie Bowman are the size of bear paws and they’ve seen the fight. your gait is steady as a soldier’s and i know you’ve seen the battle. your hair obeys the curve of your baby face, 5 and your eyes always smile at me even when i can tell you’re sad. but your hands the way they create something out of nothing the way they breathe life into a drawing 10 or spirit into words -it all captivates me. you have a beautiful mind and two feet firmly planted on the ground, but your head remains in the clouds: 15 always imagining, always contemplating. but your hands, twice my size, beg to be held. 20 and your heart bleeds for escape and beats in meter[s] with your feet, which are ready to run, and it aches to be loved 25 and to love in return. but your hands are what amaze me the most.

64


‫דיאט קולה‬ ‫‪Erin Beiner‬‬

‫יש כמה דברים שמצער‬ ‫הוא נותן לי נחמה‬ ‫הוא עוזר לי לעבוד‬ ‫הוא נותן לי כוח‬ ‫הוא לא עוזב אותי‬ ‫הוא עושה אותי מאושרת‬ ‫הוא הסיבה לחיי‬ ‫דיאט קולה הוא הדבר הטוב ביותר בעולם‪.‬‬

‫‪65‬‬

‫‪5‬‬


Abigail Seidel

66


Quiero Ir a Colombia Adam Stoumen Colombia, Colombia, Colombia, ¿Cuándo podré ir a Colombia? Amarillo, azul y rojo, Mar y playas bonitas Esto no es un ningún problema para mí.

5

Colombia, Colombia, Colombia, ¿Cuándo podré ir a Colombia? A la derecha está Venezuela, Y a la Izquierda está Ecuador Pero ningún otro país como la bella Colombia.

10

Colombia, Colombia, Colombia, ¿Cuándo podré ir a Colombia? En Colombia están los mercados, Las montañas y las mujeres calientes! Esto no es ningún problema para mí. Juan Manuel Santos es el presidente, Esto no es un accidente. Colombia, Colombia, Colombia, ¿Cuándo podré ir a Colombia?

67

15


‫ אי אפשר לעשות חוקים‬.‫ החוקה של ארה"ב היא מיושנת‬,‫ אז‬.‫ומלחמה אזרחים‬ ‫ ואין בעייה עם‬,‫ רק יש כנסת‬,‫ אין חוקה‬,‫ אבל בישראל‬.‫מודרנים איתה‬ ".‫התפתחות טכנולוגיה או דברים "בלתי רגילים‬ ?‫האם את חושבת שממשלה בלי חוקה תעבוד בארצות הברית‬ ‫ אני חושבת שמדינה בלי חוקה (מדינה דמוקרטית לחלוטין) צריכה‬.‫ לא‬:‫אני‬ ‫ יש יותר מדי‬.‫ כמו מדינת ישראל‬,‫ גם במקום ובאוכלוסיה‬,‫להיות מאד קטנה‬ ‫ אז צריכים לפחות‬,‫מרכיבים ובעיות "בלתי רגילות" שקורות כל יום בארה"ב‬ .‫קצת חוקים אבסולוטים‬

Mi Perro Emily Karsch Mi perro Henry es muy guapo Mi madre compra su comida en el Mercado. Henry es el nombre de mi perro. El duerme y juega harto Mi hermano Jacob lo consiente y lo pasea por el lago.

5

Ellos terminan su tiempo juntos y regresan a casa En donde Henry duerme y descansa. La cosa favorita de Henry es montar en el auto El va con nosotros y habla mucho todo el rato. Henry y yo fuimos amor a primera vista El es mi perro y yo lo quiero como si fuera mi vida.

68

10


‫על תרבות וחוקה‬ ‫‪Lauren Shapiro‬‬ ‫דיין‪ ,‬שואלת )ועונה(‪,‬‬ ‫למה אנשים רוצים לגור בישראל אם זה כל‪-‬כך "חם וצפוף?" למה הם‬ ‫ממשיכים לסבול את כל האגרסיביות ווכחנות של ישראלים בשביל לגור‬ ‫בישראל?‬ ‫אילנה דיין אומרת שהיא נשארת בישראל כי אין לה ברורה‪ :‬היא כל‪-‬כך‬ ‫באהבה עם התרבות היחידה ומיוחדת של ארץ ישראל‪ .‬אחד מהדוגמאות שהיא‬ ‫נותנת להראות את האגדה הכל‪-‬כך מיוחדת של ישראל זאת הדוגמא של מבנה‬ ‫הממשלה (הכנסת)‪ .‬אילנה דיין אומרת‪ ,‬שהשיטה של המשפט מאד‬ ‫פרוגרסיבית בגלל שאין למדינת ישראל חוקה‪.‬‬ ‫אני‪ :‬אילנה דיין‪ ,‬למה חושבת זה מועיל לישראל שאין חוקה?‬ ‫אילנה דיין‪ :‬תחשבי לרגע על ממשלה וחוקה של ארצות הברית‪ .‬החוקה של‬ ‫ארה"ב נכתבה בשנת ‪ ,1787‬נאשרה בשנת ‪ ,1788‬והתחילה לפעול בשנת‬ ‫‪ .1789‬עכשיו‪ ,‬השנה היא ‪ .2012‬תחשבי‪ ,‬על כך מה שקרה זמננו וזמן‬ ‫החוקה‪ :‬האינרנט‪ ,‬הטלפון‪ ,‬והאוטו לא היו בנמצא‪ ,‬היתה מלחמה בין הדרום‬ ‫והצפון של ארה"ב‪ ,‬והיו שתי תקיפות טרוריסטיות רציניות‪ :‬אחד בפרל‬ ‫הרבור‪ ,‬הוואיי‪ ,‬ואחד באחד‪-‬עשרה של ספטמבר‪ ,2001 ,‬בניו יורק‪ .‬החוקה‬ ‫שהאבות המיסדים כתבו לא פנתה לדברים כאלה של טכנולוגיה‪ ,‬טרור‪,‬‬ ‫‪69‬‬


2011 - 2012 Literary Magazine Editors Lipaz Avigal Aviv Rau Erin Beiner Alex Estroff Jaren Mendel Liam Jones Ben Karlin Adina Karpuj Micha Kerbel Yarden Lewit Gavriella Mendel Rachel Jones Sam Ready Aliya Saulson Zane Hellman

Ramblings 2012  

The Weber School

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