Page 1

T a l i s m a n 2 0 1 1

V o l u m e 3 3

Talisman 2011 Staff Editor-in-Chief

Lara Kozak Poetry Editor

Prose Editor

Erica Joy Oliverio

Alex Simon


Faculty Advisor

Lauren Wade Emily Gunberg Emily Brown Jackie Gorman Annette Lee

Thomas Perry

Talisman is a literary- art magazine showcasing the creative efforts of Wakefield School’s Upper School, including works from students in grades nine through twelve. It is designed and produced by a small staff of students under the supervision of a faculty advisor as a voluntary, afterschool activity. In choosing pieces for publication, we strive to highlight originality in content and in expression to display the vareity that exists in the minds of the Wakefield students. We believe that the pulse of a society lives in its art and writing. In producing this magazine, we seek to reveal the texture of ourselves, our lives, and our community. In this spirit of revelation, we offer you this year’s Talisman.

CSPA Awards 1984 1985 1986 1988 1989 1990 1991 1992 1993 1994 1995 1996 1997 1998 1999 2000 2001 2002 2003 2004 2005 2006 2007 2008 2009 2010

First Place Medalist First Place Medalist Medalist Medalist Silver Crown Medalist First Place Medalist Gold Medal Gold Medal Gold Medal Gold Medal Gold Medal Gold Medal Gold Medal Silver Crown Gold Medal Gold Medal Gold Crown Silver Medal Bronze Medal Gold Medal Gold Medal Gold Medal

Colophon Typeset by the Talisman Staff in Microsoft Word 2007. Cover set in Mistral Text. Inside Cover set in Modern No. 20 and Copperplate Gothic Light Text. Title Page set in Sathu Text. Table of Contents and Index set in Sathu, Mistral, and Modern No. 20 Text. Bylines set in Gills Sans Text. Page Numbers set in Copperplate Gothic Light Text. Poetry set in Minion Pro and Minion Pro Italic Text. Prose set in Sathu Text. Poetry Titles set in Copperplate Gothic Light Text and Prose Titles set in Modern No. 20 Text. Cover stock is White McCoy Silk 100#; Interior Page Stock is White Elite Silk 80#. Page Layout executed using InDesign CS5. Printing by Piedmont Press, Warrrenton, Virginia. All layout and design executed by Lara Kozak of 2011 Talisman Staff.

Many Thanks to...

Mr. Genther- for making it very difficult to try to explain in words everything that you do for me. I can never say thank you enough, Dude. Simon and EJ- for your dedication, focus, and genuine excitement for this magazine that has made me smile to the nth degree. Thanks for always making me laugh with your stories and adorable nature! You two are the epitome of perfect editors and I know I am leaving Talisman in wonderful hands. Dr. Perry- for being the advisor. Mr. and Mrs. Kozak- my parents, for your invaluable support and advice in everything I do. Steve Winter- for all your help at Piedmont Press for yet another year.

Fiction is the work of the author’s imagination and does not necessarily reflect actual experience.

Staff, Friends, and anyone who supported me and magazine. And, most of all, thanks to the Upper School students who have submitted and contributed a piece of themselves to share with our community and to have a lasting part in Wakefield’s history.



Pulse Echoes in Egyptian Streets Figures We Still Fight On Today Days Bleed Together Squash Lover’s Loss Love and Leaves Where She Lives Something to Consider David Ashley Insubstantial Euphoria in Exposure The Sky is Crying Tranquil Eris Beauty on the Battlefield Penance Illusions Blurred Faceless


EricaJoy Oliverio Amina Tobah Trevor Newman Nicole Creeden EricaJoy Oliverio Laura Mullett Carson Craig Cyrus Fenwick Julie Fortney Cyrus Fenwick Laura Mullett EricaJoy Oliverio Lauren Wade David Provance Sean Plummer EricaJoy Oliverio Laura Mulllett David Provance Youssef Tobah David Provance David Provance EricaJoy Oliverio Margaret Barua

6 10 13 16 20 25 29 32 34 38 40 46 47 53 55 59 60 65 68 72 73 76 80

NonFiction I Have a Dream Just Another Day Papa’s Bandana Sydney Allen, M.D. Pretend Pediatrician Dried Petals Tag, You’re It! Spanglish Home My Name Antiseptic Old Ketchup Good Morning

Lauren Wade Pete Hunter Sophia Rutti Sydney Allen Alex Simon EricaJoy Oliverio Lauren Wade Laura Steensma Juliet Mayer Omar Aminzay EricaJoy Oliverio Natalie Khalil Shane Music

8 18 22 26 30 36 42 50 57 66 74 79 82


The Blue Scarf Stranger in the Sand

Julie Fortney EricaJoy Oliverio

64 73


Art Ford Car

Patrick Penderville

Mod Girl Ink Garden Ink Beach Abstract Ink Transluscent Fabric Ink Design Ink Robot Woman Sad Ink Woman Outstretched Hand on Sheets

Screaming Man Apples and Wine Still Life

28 33 40 44 46


Kate Weimer Jessica Sears Jessica Sears Jessica Sears Lara Kozak Thoreau Martin Margaret Barua Margaret Barua Lara Kozak

Lara Kozak

Creeping Girl Feet on Towels



Bomee Kim Lara Kozak Max Guarriello Julie Fortney Lara Kozak

Clocks Taylor Portrait Abstract Color Stripe Blue Pastel Woman Raging Bull

Scarf Self-Portrait

6 7 7 12

Alex Simon Amina Tobah Ciara Hutchison Lara Kozak

Circle Design Circle Design Circle Design Michael Corleone

Jessica Sears Lara Kozak

50 50 51 52 54 59 60 61

62 64 71

Margaret Barua 72 Lara Kozak


Dying Flowers

Photo Laura Steensma

Crowd Lightbulb Sequence Gas Pump Sabetier Chair Lone Dog Log Pile Railroad Grave Mailbox Empty Swings Fall Tree

Pete Hunter Emily Gunberg Margaret Barua Rachel Martin John Graham John Graham Brooke Robinson Jessica Sears Emily Granruth Margaret Barua Laura Steensma

Drooping Flowers In a Field Playground Colored Beach Hut Water Tower Jump Snow Twisted Vine Mossy Tree Metro Reflection Wild Flower Yellow Flower Sand Steps Macbeth Drain Texture

Reflection Mirror Self Portrait Multiple Expose Bath


11 16 18 20 22 23 24 27 30 31 35

Jackie Gorman Margaret Barua Rachel Martin Madison Lee Thoreau Martin Margaret Barua Margaret Barua Cyrus Fenwick Lara Kozak Laura Steensma Laura Steensma Amina Tobah Thoreau Martin Thom Hood

Emily Gunberg Brooke Robinson Lara Kozak

36 39 42 48 49 56 63 64 67 68 69 70 73 74

77 80 83


pulse By EricaJoy Oliverio Grade Ten

Alex Simon- Grade Ten


Amina Tobah- Grade Eleven

Ciara Hutchison- Grade Eleven

lights pierce the darkness neon strobes of silver, red

mouths gasp for air

shared, heavy, sweet with sweat

the music is deafening, intoxicating, controlling,

muscles writhe,

a visceral vibration

skin chafes skin,

a heated, frenzied friction

there are no faces here

just bodies, skin, and sound

and Pulse the rush through our veins, the beat of our heart


I Have a Dream By Lauren Wade Grade Ten


I have a dream that cancer will stop stripping people of their hope, of their faith, and of their love.




I have a dream that one day the wounds tarnishing the souls of the affected will heal into mere scars and become badges of courage and strength.

Laura Steensma- Grade Twelve




Echoes in Egyptian Streets By Amina Tobah Grade Eleven

I hear the distant echoes from the square As millions of people march in Tahrir And their cries for liberty fill the air. Full of pride and not showing any fear, Men and women, young and old stand together As one entity, one soul, and one mind Hoping to fix the future forever. With big, heavy hands keeping them confined For thirty years, all they want is a voice. And finally one night, after eighteen long days,

The tyrants resigned and the world rejoiced. And all through the night, Egypt was ablaze. And I sit far away but I can hear The echoing sound of Egyptian cheer.



Pete Hunter- Grade Twelve

12 ozak- Grade Twelve

Amina Tobah- Grade Eleven

Lara Kozak- Grade Twelve Amina Tobah- Grade Eleven

Figures By Trevor N ewman Grade Eleven

He did not feel recoil on his shoulder. He did not hear the hollow shells tumble to the beach, rolling first down the boulders. They met the figures which rested face down. He did not see the faces of the men. He did not hear their prayers, or their screams, or their pleas for life. Their blood ran like cold water through the sand, in small, steady streams. He could in no way think about their thoughts. He could in no way feel the pain they felt. To him, the figures had no thoughts. They brought only death to the sandbags, where he knelt.

He was able only to think of life – Of his own life, of survival through strife.



Patrick Penderville- Grade Twelve

Emily Granruth- Grade Ten

We Still Fight On By Nicole Creeden Grade Nine


Bombs exploding and bullets flying I look beside me to see a soldier dying We still fight on. At home, no one could know the way That we see horrors every day. We still fight on. In hospitals slim are the supplies They don’t care if a soldier dies. We still fight on. We have been fighting in this war for too long it seems I’ve lost track of my old hopes and dreams We still fight on. It seems this war will never stop. I’ll only escape when I drop. But we still fight on. My friends bloody leg I try to mend

It is clear this war will never end We will always fight on.


Margaret Barua- Grade Eleven

Just Another Day


By Pete Hunter Grade Twelve





Rachel Martin- Grade Eleven

By EricaJoy Oliverio Grade Ten

Today Here I am 9/10 6:07 I wait for the seconds to tick The clock to inch forward I listen; hear Silence My feet itch to step forward Soul yearns to see, taste, and feel To be more than the present Revolutionary A beacon of light to a black and gray world But something stops me Nostalgia—strangling my heart Dusty photographs rattle in their frames Refusing to be memories of the past Or ghosts of the future Countless possibility and fond certainty Moving forward Or back One Or the other I stand at the corner of yesterday and tomorrow And wait for Time to save me

21 21

Papa’s Bandana John Graham- Grade Eleven


By Sophia Rutti Grade Ten



Papa, deep in thought, a pencil and ruler in his hand, building a paradise that no God could, the bright red bandana covered in saw dust and smelling of cedar tied around his John Graham- Grade Eleven mouth and nose. 23

Brooke Robinson- Grade Twelve


Days Bleed Together By Laura Mullett Grade Eleven

Days bleed together, losing their meaning So few had bothered to see. With tired eyes Each night the people set sights on preening Their pretty little heads of worldly lies.

The path, the pattern…it’s made us jaded. A life of clichés and of catch phrases. The desire to live long satiated. Are you being true or seeking praises? Walk blindly. Hand over your thoughts and will. Don’t worry; you wont feel a thing they say, And we’ve forgotten…that’s what makes us real. But we’ve sold ourselves, coveting the pay. Stare blankly. Step inside their maze. Did you forget? “Minutes bleed into days”


Sydney Allen, M.D. By Sydney Allen Grade Twelve

Time of death — 11:07 p.m. Luckily, my mother was not home.



Jessica Sears- Grade Ten



Squash By Carson Craig Grade Eleven

While I run through the crowded terminal, The mind filled with images foreseeing Deeds fulfilled as if that of cardinal. Buckling up while the car is leaving. The draw is laid out on the head table, The glass door opens leading to the court

The breeze from the racquet is so stab le

Loosening stiff muscles fro m the airport.

The warm ball bounces and the stage is set,

Points begin, and hidden emotions arise

Contact is made and then one asks for let,

Hands are shaken, fury fills all the eyes. Winners receive trophies with such great praise

On departing planes I recall my days.

Bomee Kim- Grade Ten


“ Emily Granrith- Grade Ten

Pretend Pediatrician By Alex Simon Grade Ten


With my plastic stethoscope, sticker covered thermometer, and a little imagination, there was no disease I couldn’t cure and no person I couldn’t help.

“ Margaret Barua- Grade Eleven



Lover’s Loss By Cyrus Fenwick Grade Eleven

I opened my eyes and darkness I saw,

My spirit calm in the silence of the night, I wondered what’s the use of lover’s law, If she doesn’t follow it and we fight, All I could think about was her blue eyes, And the way the world stopped when she smiled, But now what I have are her sad goodbyes, And now she left me to die in the wild, Oh how a heart hurts after a dark end, Leaving me broken with no one to help, Tossing in my bed becoming a trend. A pin in my heart causing me to yelp, For the pain in my heart there was no mend,


All I could hope for was a very soon end.

Lara Kozak- Grade Twelve


Love and Leaves By Julie Fortney Grade Eleven

I look at autumn leaves tumbling down, And think of all the love that has been lost, Like all the fir’y leaves upon the ground, Whose once bright shad es were faded by the toss. As like strong passion dies with all the rest, And leaves once green with life now crushed and dead. While death does part true lovers none the less, And wipes his silver sword of bloody red. He laughs at dying leaves and lovers true, For death knows secrets that others do not, Whilst brushing away the sweet morning dew, He has discovered what has since been sought.

to find immortality, Those who seek in hope Will waste their lives away looking for the key.


Laura Steensma- Grade Twelve


Jackie Gorman- Grade Ten

Dried Petals By EricaJoy Oliverio G rade Ten


And then there are her eyes: half-lidded brown orbs that see everything but understand nothing, void of grandmotherly emotion and fiery spirit, staring at a world she doesn’t recognize and a family she can’t remember.

v 37

Where She Lives

By Cyrus Fenwick Grade Eleven

The days go by left and right, The road turning and turning tight, And like a fire that burns bright, She was here, then disappeared into the cold, cold night. She came to me with her dark blonde hair, With eyes locked in a sad, loving stare, How quickly I fell into that abyss, Swinging and swinging, trying not to miss. But, alas, before me she appeared, How long she would stay was my only fear, For when she was around, all was good, And my heart raced like the little engine that could. Time and time we spent together, Our love as light as a feather, Playing in the snow and laughing deep, Making me hope I would enter endless sleep. We had much in common, oh yes we did, A youthful ignorance like little kids, We traveled and drove and spent time together, Until I hoped I would be with her forever. It wasn’t until later when reality set in, Her heart seemed to be made of tin, Unable to move, to think, to do, She had taken away my soul – all that was true But time goes on and makes one reflect, All the memories that just don’t connect, I saw her come back to me, taking flight, But then I realized something wasn’t right, I walked, she fled, and day brought back my night.



Margaret Barua- Grade Eleven

Something to Consider By Laura Mullet Grade Eleven

If not to live, but instead to die Is all love, in its innocence, a passionate lie? If not adequate, if only a passing whim, Then what is emotion? Is the ice truly so thin? Tell me the truth; in honesty, salvation rests. I don’t trust my speech; I’ll put out obstacles, tests. I could say a thousand words. I’d use red, yellow, blue, But it’s so hard to paint all these thoughts for you. Use your intuition: a helpful gift. To let me sew closed the gap, this rift That at time opens up when I’m lost to speech, And I’ll rant and rave and gesture preach. Deep and down and secret, there’s a world Where active thoughts I’ve played with and twirled Are waiting for me to bring them to light, But they’re young and they’re wild, and others would fight To put out their flames. I protect them, you see? By tending to them quietly and letting them be. But they fester inside me; they snarl and they burn, And when I feel like it’s too much and I yearn To let them go, I turn to someone I trust And whisper or yell or do what I must


Max Guarriello- Grade Nine To release the tension. Sideline the pain. And occasionally…let the tears fall like rain. How do my words wonder this way And that? I start with love and stray To far abstract thoughts? Take me, And break me. Watch and you will see: There’s far more strength and resilience in me. I’m breaking the pattern, don’t lecture, don’t bind Me to a certain way. Freedom is a state of the mind. Soon, just around the bend, there’s always something more. Chasing, anticipating…what’s it all for? Here’s your life. This moment, right now. Who knows where it will go? “I wake to sleep and take my waking slow.” Words, meanings, conceptions, notions. Rocks and waves of seas and oceans. Do you follow my branches of thought? Are my words soothing? The answers you’ve sought? Ambivalence. Arbitrary alliteration. Do empty words bring concepts to fruition? Take time. Reflect. Listen. Have you stopped to watch the little dew drops glisten? Inundated by all this stimuli. We tune life out, but we fear to die.


Rachel Martin- Grade Eleven

Tag, You’re It!

I couldn’t believe myself. A boy couldn’t be attractive. Boys were gross, and I was just as much one of them.



Julie Fortney- Grade Eleven




Lara Kozak- Grade Twelve



By Erica Joy Oliverio Grade Ten

Hair – ebony spikes Like a protective fence atop his head Brows – black thistles Furrowed in deep concentration Skin – smooth alabaster Cracked with chasms of stress and worry Lips – thin, chapped Pressed into a natural frown Cheeks – sallow, concave Creased bogs of timeless age Nose – big bulbous Pressed flat by long fingers Eyes – fathomless, chestnut depths Masking hidden, unvoiced thoughts Penetrating in paternal observation But crinkling slightly in the corners as he begins to smile

Ashley By L auren Wade Grade Ten

Kate Weimer- Grade Ten

Hair--like calm waves, Pooling as they reach nearby sands Brows--two feathers arched by wisps of wind, Whipping each little strand, turn after turn Eyes--a pair of bright blue bulbs, Softened with the marks of crows’ feet And misty with meek tears Nose--slight and subtle, Yet spotlighted on center stage Cheeks--bright as the sky above her, Gentle as the rain drops that streak across her, and warm as the sun beating down upon her Lips--cracked with crevices, Sweet, small sufferings from strained smiles Chin--as poignant as the final note to a symphony, A perfect crescendo, That takes your breath away.


Madison Lee- Grade Twelve


Thoreau Martin- Grade Twelve


Spanglish By Laura Steensma Grade Twelve


All by Jessica Sears- Grade Ten



Lara Kozak- Grade Twelve


Insubstantial By David Provance Grade Eleven

Walking in shades of Remembrance

Seeing unclearly through what is and what used to be A lone child is seen, one; a tormented soul, Eyes of hatred stare blankly through the universe Enveloped within, a cry is heard The hidden being unsheathes his soul A light surrounds the entire existence The cry ceases and the darkness fades A window to the unknown is seen Frightened, it reaches through and grasps the world The adolescent holds the system by its axis And once more a cry is echoed The sphere falls into the abyss It is grasped by a known shadow; a fade of the past Gently it is held, but then unknowingly dropped into the entity of Hate Held with a passion it is thrown into the unknown The genocide is heard and all life falters

It lives no more.


Euphoria in Exposure By Sean Plummer Grade Eleven

Walking through the woods is when I find bliss, The tall, dark trees hide the world from my eye The calm birds in the trees I cannot miss, They are the ones who make me want to fly. Often I find a small bug walking by, Oh what the world would look like from down there, Oh what the forest would look like up high, I could fly for miles without a care. This feeling of fancy I cannot share, This imagination is only mine. I hear no sounds coming from anywhere, Silence and a gentle wind are just fine. Only in these woods I find solitude, Which delight is best found in the nude.


Thoreau Martin- Grade Twelve


Margaret Barua- Grade Eleven


Home By Juliet Mayer Grade Nine




The Sky is Crying By Erica Joy Oliverio Grade Ten

Raindrops fall from dark gray clouds Trickle down the window panes Like tears The sky is crying Kids huddle in overstuffed sofas Whispers, giggles, dirty looks Accusing eyes pointed in your direction Why are you here? They see you hugging the chair Your arms- tight Trying to keep it together And hold on to reality Surrounded by people, You look so alone Gray eyes- pained If only they knew You want to tell yourself it’ll be okay That this is just a nightmare You’ll wake up But you know it’s a lie The overhead clock ticks Forward, slowly You want it to go back Back- to before Raindrops fall from dark gray clouds Trickle down the windowpanes Like tears The sky is crying

Margaret Barua- Grade Eleven


Margaret Barua- Grade Eleven

Tranquil By Laura Mullet Grade Eleven

Tranquil. That is how I feel as I sit And stare at the ceiling. Where are you now?

The thought that had once tied knots in the pits Of my stomach, gives naught but a furrowed brow. Emotion. I’ve learned to lull her to sleep. How else could I find a respite for my Tired mind? In all dreams, there she lies deep. Our slumber turns twisted; she creeps so sly. Breathe! I feel you in my lungs! Leave me not!

I feel alive. Indescribably immersed. Here in this moment, I find what I’ve sought, As living turns to life, I feel naught cursed.

Forever in my mem or

ies, and kept

Far from my future, this pain I accept.



Lara Kozak- Grade Twelve

The Blue Scarf


Lara Kozak- Grade Twelve

By Julie Fortney Grade Eleven

Margaret Barua- Grade Eleven


But when they grow up, they forget the games they played and the things they saw and slip into their own false realities.




Jessica Sears- Grade Ten Cyrus Fenwick- Grade Eleven


Eris By David Provance Grade Eleven

The trees stand the river flows All us as intended A woman is seen, running A sign of fear embellishes her face A tear flows from the groove of her eye And her sadness is released into the world Within her palm she holds the unknown A shout of terror is heard; a leaf falls from the sky Approaching sanctuary a trail of darkness is seen to follow The open hand touches a single blade of grass In an instance its life is sucked away and within seconds, lies dead upon the earth The poison continues to spread as she runs on through A tree falls and then another The river now desiccated, all that remains is destitute Fulfilled she looks behind with eagerness, Once more she opens her sinister hand and an ember is born Thrown into the smoldering remains A line is generated and incases the universe No escape is found She ceases to run and slowly turns Eyes tamed by the flames, looks with delight and smiles with a fallible grin Another cry of happiness is heard Slowly she finds her bearings and follows the elated cry At the peak of existence, she beguiles the world Running towards, another trusting life’s shadow is seen The cynical being hides behind an opaque veneer Their ignorance is not their bliss Unknowingly gathering towards her trap All is unseen and all is forgotten


My Name By Omar Aminzay Grade Twelve



This name was t that I o pro It was the distinct tect m creat ed pain of shame that left a ha e. At t he no d n tim horrible taste in ta w I o em th ke t rea va my mouth. in oug hat lize lue y na me wo g m ht t I h th , b my uld y n hat ave e m ut id be ame by ma isen ab th ch de . I fight for my identity. tit le I lost anthe a t y. to I gMy identity was nothing special to them. The name co n Omar wastrlike ol the stitches on a broken man’s heart.

he I lost t y m r o f fight y M . y t i ident s a w y t i to ident l a i c e p gs n i h t o n me a n e h them. T s like a w r a m O

s e h c t the sti en k o r b on a t. r a e h s man’

to s a

w d te

Lara Kozak- Grade Twelve

e m a n s i e. h T m t c e t o r p

t a h t


a e r c


Laura Steensma- Grade Twelve

Beauty on the Battlefield By Youssef Tobah Grade Nine


Near my trench I see beautiful butterflies

Near my horrid trench filled with death

They fly toward the soldier as he dies Maybe they’re there to ease his breath Near the battlefield I see terrific poplar trees Near the battlefield which destroys so many lives The poplars can make on feel at ease When surrounded by death, they live a thrive Near the dying soldier is the cherry blossom It makes him forget where he is and what’s going on Its effect on all soldiers is amazing, it’s awesome The soldier feels great emotion, when formerly withdrawn The beauty on the battlefield is a blessing as much as it is a curse Not seeing beauty is awful, but distraction can be worse.

Laura Steensma- Grade Twelve


I close my eyes and let the sun’s rays warm every inch of my body, occasional zephyrs cooling my skin before the heat

becomes unbearable.

Amina Tobah- Grade Eleven


Lara Kozak- Grade Twelve

Stranger in the Sand By Erica Joy Oliverio Grade Ten



Margaret Barua- Grade Eleven


Standing on the isle, Romulus in grief Hold the bloody dagger with hands of green A mere child still by the arborous leaf Eyes widened stares into the soul unseen O’ greatest kings, burning the child’s pier Thou hath forsaken me, before my hour Cleanse yourself before the eternal fire Now hold with yourself the clenching power Touch now, searing flame to my broken breast Hold with yourself the unending remorse Feel vile pain rupture your seething chest Feel the torture felt through ironic force And just as Cain did take your reddened knife Always remember you have taken life.


Illusions Poetry By David Provance Grade Eleven

Thoreau Martin- Grade Twelve To Rome shall I flee, for my goddess’s need Whence I leave, I shudder and hear my call Although my lust, alone unable to feed My heart is bound, incapable to fall To weep for me is to pity oneself, Unearthed from the ashes, I rise anew Impiety grants me eternal wealth Through her beauty, Minerva wakes for few I see through the opaque flake she feigns be The heavy chain I bear to leave her side I know now my purpose, for I must flee The chain lessens, and forever I died O grant me eternal wish, dear Maker I will give her my soul, the sinuous Taker



Thomas Hood- Grade Twelve

By Erica Joy Oliverio Grade Ten




Blurred By Erica Joy Oliverio Grade Ten

I live in a world of colors Of lights Darks And the nameless in-between All I see are fleeting shadows Blurred images Streaked somethingness In the corners of my eyes

Figures cross my vision But they are faceless Expressionless Familiar strangers

My eyes are filled with fog Hazy pupils Seeing nothing And everything

But then I shield my eyes with magic glass Colors meld Lines solidify


Emily Gunberg- Grade Ten


Lara Kozak- Grade Twelve


Old Ketchup By Natalie Khalil Grade Twelve

ď ś 79

Faceless By Margaret Barua Grade Eleven

Brooke Robinson- Grade Twelve


Breathe in, breathe

out, don’t th ink

My pencil dances athwart

the canvas

, only draw,

don’t think

Drawing out each line, connecting each link From the canvas, she slowly emerges, I see a woman’s torso but no face She resembles me, searching for herself Excess of pressures, life being just a race In all this chaos, now can I find myself Faceless, like this charcoal woman

To find the

Blurry around edges and unfinished s answers I look to my hand

Start to draw, my uncertainties diminish I find myself in this drawing this day No longer faceless, I can find my way


Good Morning

By Shane Music Grade Twelve


I begin to grow curious of him. I wonder what his aspirations are. Does he dream at night? Has he even been broken by the ones he loved? I wonder how often he feels alone.



Lara Kozak- Grade Twelve



I realize what I want from him. I want him to open his mouth and speak. I want him to take on a life of his own. I want to hear him say that it will be okay.



Allen, Sydney Aminzay, Omar Barua, Margaret Craig, Carson Creeden, Nicole Fenwick, Cyrus Fortney, Julie Gorman, Jackie Graham, John Granruth, Emily Guarriello, Max Gunberg, Emily Hood, Thom Hunter, Pete Hutchison, Ciara Khalil, Natalie Kim, Bomee Kozak, Lara Lee, Madison Martin, Rachel Martin, Thoreau Mayer, Juliet Mullet, Laura Music, Shane Newman, Trevor Oliverio, Erica Joy Penderville, Patrick Plummer, Sean Provance, David Robinson, Brooke Rutti, Sophia Sears, Jessica Simon, Alex Steensma, Laura Tobah, Amina Tobah, Youssef Wade, Lauren Weimer, Kate

26 66 18,31,39,56, 59, 60, 63, 72, 80 29 16 32, 38, 64 34, 44, 62 36 22, 23 30 41 16, 77 74 11, 18 7 79 28 12, 33, 46, 52, 61, 62, 67, 71, 78, 83 48 20 49, 55, 73 57 25, 40, 60 82 13 6, 20, 36, 46, 59, 71, 74, 76 15 54 53, 65, 72, 73 24, 80 22 27, 50, 51, 64 6, 30 9, 35, 50, 68, 69 7, 10, 70 68 8, 42, 47 47

Wakefield's Talisman 2011  

Wakefield School in The Plains, VA has two student-produced magazines each year. The Talisman is one dedicated to works of art, poetry, and...