expressions-2013-2014-may-2014

EXPRESSIONS 2013 . 2014UNIONCATHOLIC'SLiterary Magazine

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTSWe would like to thank the entire UC community, including Sister Percylee Hart, R.S.M., for all the help and support. We would like to thank all of those students who contributed to this year’s edition of Expressions. Thank you for sharing yourthoughts, feelings, and words with the UC community. We could not have done it without you. Expressions the Literary Magazine of Union Catholic Expressions is published annually in May. Contents of Expressions 2014 are the original products of students of Union Catholic Regional High School. Individual authors and artists retain rights. Opinions expressed by the authors and artists whose work isfeatured are not necessarily those of Union Catholic Regional High School, the editors and the staff of Expression, nor those of the individual authors and artists. Expressions 2014 was created using JOOMAG.COM, DIGITAL PUBLISHING SOLUTIONS

expressions EDITOR-IN-CHIEF KYLE BOROWSKIASSISTANT EDITOR-IN-CHIEF ELLIE CHEUNG EXECUTIVE LAYOUT EDITOR EDGIE AMISIAL ASSISTANT LAYOUT EDITOR NAVANITA SAHA ELLIE CHEUNG COPY EDITOR BRIANA DALCE ART EDITOR BRIDGET MCALLISTERPHOTOGRAPHY EDITOR NAVANITA SAHA FACULTY MODERATOR CARALINE KOELLHOFFERFRONT COVER DESIGNER EDGIE AMISIAL BACK COVER DESIGNER BRIDGET MCALLISTER

Evening Light SAMANTHA DIMAANO

THE WOODS ARE ALIVE ALEXA TYBURCZY THE WOODS ARE ALIVE, WITH THE SOUNDS OF MUSIC; THE VARIED NOISES OF ANIMALS AND RACKET OFNATURE. AS THE SUN COMES UP YOU HEAR THE CLUCK OFA PHEASANT. THE CLANGING OF HORNS AS TWO BUCKS BEGINTO FIGHT, THE RUFFLING OF FEATHERS AS TWO GROUSE TAKE TO FLIGHT. THE LOUD HAMMERING OF A WOODPECKER ON AN OAK TREE. A FLOCK OF TURKEYS SCATTERING LEAVESAROUND THE GROUND, THE HOLLOWING OF THE WIND ACROSS THE TOPOF THE MOUNTAINS; THE TREES KNOCKING TOGETHER AS THAT GUST PICKS UPSWIRL’S SCURRYING ALONG THE STONE FENCES SONG BIRDS SINGING THROUGHOUT THE DAY THE SILENCE OF THE WOODS AS THE SUN SETS; BROKEN BY THE HOLLOWING COYOTES AS THE MOON RISES.

THE MENTAL GAME KATHERINE FUCHS THE ENERGY IS LEAVING, WITHOUT A GOODBYE; IT STOPS SUDDENLY - THE ENERGY DRAINED FROM THE ROOM, A RECOVERY IS DUBIOUS; THE OBJECTS LOOK LIKE PAWS MOVING ROBOTICALLY ACROSS THE FLOOR, THE HOPE LEAVES AND THE TOUGHNESS BECOME TENUOUS; IS ALL FAITH WASHED AWAY IN THIS UNFORTUNATE HURRICANE - IT CAN’T BE OVER, THERE IS STILL SO MUCH LEFT TO GIVE? IT ARRIVES AGAIN, ENERGETICALLY AND INSPIRING - THE PAWNS ADVANCE; THE CROWD IS ENCOURAGING AND HOPEFUL FOR A GLORIOUS OUTCOME - WILL IT COME? - IS IT POSSIBLE TO GO BACK IN TIME? IS THE LONG AWAITED VICTORY IN HAND’S REACH - OR IS IT HOPELESS UNTIL A NEW BEGINNING - A FRESH SET OF PAWNS. IT ALL ENDS - ENDING THEIR LIFETIME WITH A LOSS - BUT ENTERING A NEW LIFETIME WITH LOVE, SMILES, AND MEMORIES - UNTIL ANOTHER LOSS RESURFACES.

Tay-Jaughn Hope

ELLIE CHEUNG

EXISTENCE E D G I E A M I SI A L

THE ART OF WRITING Emily Garno Writing begins with inspiration. It is a period of imaginationThat comes from the heart and the brain. It is time for a new creation. It is not a game Or a reach for ultimate fame. It is an art Where there is no shame. One writes from the heart. One does not have to be smart To write what one dreams. For it is their own part. So go in search of this story.Open the cover to a new world with me, For it will be quite beautiful to see, For it will be quite beautiful to see.

\"mSoeroo,mda“noeWdtoy?ahno”tkyweuIindoroageonsrpostcylhaueoieedmuadshse,i?nak“”IsWre\"dsidshetye -Unknown ml\"aiBkkeeessaoesmvoeemrbyeobbdooyddywy.fh\"eoel -Kid President

KALEIDOSCOPIC by Ellie Cheung

WE ARE NOT HUMAN EDGIE AMISIAL We are not humans, We are conformists. We do not hope, We do not speak. We let the waves carry us,And allow the world to make us weak. We've lost our powers, along with our freedom. We've lost the key to life, and burnt the book of wisdom. We are not humans, We are killers; Killers of the wilderness, Killers of recklessness. We do not run, We do not scream. We accept who we are told to be.

IPHONEOGRAPHY NAVANITA SAHA



My Heart BY: JESSIEOnce upon a time, there was a girl.Not a princess, nor a monster - just a girl, a dreamer.This girl was locked up in a large, stone tower, menacing to anyone who came by.She spent her days idling away in this tower, busying herself with stories ofadventure and fantasy. Fairy tales and magical stories became her refuge,harboring the girl in their warm and welcoming grasp. She escaped the harsh andcruel reality of a life spent within the stone tower.Now, this girl was all alone in the big tower. Always alone. Some people came andwent, but none ever stayed long enough to be called a true friend. As she neverknew what a real friend was, the girl didn't know that she was lonely. She wasstrong, and brave - or, at least, she thought so. Whenever people walked by hertower, she cautiously peered out the window at them, acting out a scene of how tosay hi in her lonely mind while only shyly watching them from afar.One day, the girl realized that nothing was stopping her from unlocking her lonelytower. No one guarded the front door, and no lavish lock kept her captive within.She was free to do whatever she wanted, within reason. Thinking herselfingenious, the girl cut her hair (at fear of anyone recognizing her as the shy onewho hid in the tower), taught herself to smile, and threw open the large woodendoors at the base of the tower. At the modest stone steps she spent her daysreading like before, but now with more company. Travelers from all over found thefriendly girl and were happy to spend time with her.But not everyone who visited her tower were friendly. Some came bearingweapons, seeking to destroy her tower. Some came with excuses, saying that theydesperately needed a block from her tower for their own family. The girl, unawareof what having a family meant, naively gave away block after block. And despitethe people with maces and swords brutally tearing down her walls, she saidnothing. She only smiled and treated people with the same kindness as before. Shedid so for that one kind stranger or those few reoccurring individuals with whomshe became fast friends; she didn't want to close them out, despite how much theyhurt her. Soon the walls of her tower grew weak and threatened to fall, and thefoundation was becoming visible to passerbys, but still her smile did not waver.She grew closer to her friends, and that made her happy, or so she believed. Shedid not really understand happiness too much.

Eventually there came a day where all she had left was the foundation of herhumble tower, everything that protected her taken away or destroyed. Still, shekept her doors open. In the rain she hid under a meager makeshift hideout, soakingfor days after. In the cold nights she'd hide in her bed and pretend she didn't hearthe wolves howling that seemed so distant before. Her smile wavered, but becauseof the few, her doors welcomed all from far and wide.One day, when her doors were gone, an unfamiliar face approached her tower. Shewas sitting on her bed - he could see, for no walls hid her any longer. He crossed theold wood floor and stood in front of her, and inquisitive expression on his face. Shesmiled, but it did not reach her eyes.\"Hello, how can I help y-\"\"You look sad.\"The girl faltered. She did not know this boy, but for once in a long time, shesuddenly wished she had those walls to protect her.In a small voice, she replied, \"I am not.\"\"Yes you are.\"His face was expressionless, but not cruel; he was honest.Before she denied it once more, the boy abruptly hugged her.And for once, she cried. She was sad. She had opened her tower for all to see andvisit only to have it stripped down to nothing. She was left with shambles, and stillshe deluded herself with happiness. Her friends did nothing to help her, onlycommenting on how increasingly empty her home looked. She missed her tower -it protected her and she let it become destroyed. The boy, a perfect stranger, heldher as she cried, letting all of the pent up emotions out.After she cried, the boy wiped away her tears and looked her in the eyes, face stillexpressionless.\"Don't cry. I'm here to help you rebuild it.\"The girl, wiping at her own now puffy eyes, went to ask what he meant but nowords came out.Silent, the boy only smiled - the first time he smiled to her, and somehow, itwarmed his heart.

THE SAVIOR IS BORN Samantha Dimaano

MICKIEEllie Cheung

JULY 20TH, 2012 KYRA BOWESEverything that day He opens the theater door andWas normal throwsI got out of bed Two gas canisters, they explodeI had breakfast, He comes backLunch, He continues his rampageDinner, I hold the young girl’s handAnd then And I carry her outAround midnight on July 20th, 2012 I’m so close, yet so far to theI went to see “The Dark Knight theater doorRises” And we’re now onBut on July 20th, 2012 Our hands and kneesSomething out of the ordinary Crawling for our livesoccurred On July 20th 2012,Eighteen minutes into the movie This little girl is screaming mommyShortly after midnight But I can barely hear her over theA person gun shots,A man Others screaming, and crying.A monster I pick her up and tell her to runPulls out an AR-15 rifle On July 20th, 2012A 12-gauge shotgun I feel a sharpness in my heartAnd a .40 caliber handgun And as I watch her runWith anger and rage in his eyes I fallHe begins shooting at the audience I can’t feel my legs,My heart stops My arms, or my heartAnd I can’t seem to fathom On July 20th, 2012How someone could hurt I am dead.Innocent people But to watch that innocent girlI hear escapeThe screams of concerned parents From the dangerous and sickeningThe cries of young children monsterI look to my right and see her That lurked into this theaterA four year old girl on the floor Was my last favorite sight to seeShe’s laying down next to her On this horrific and painfulfather memoryWho is laying down, bleeding from Of July 20th, 2012his back

KARLA TORRES

BELLIGERENCE EDGIE AMISIAL

\"What is needed, rather than runningaway or controlling or suppressing or any other resistance, is understanding fear;that means, watch it, learn about it, comedirectly into contact with it. We are tolearn about fear, not how to escape from it.\" -Jiddu Krishnamurti

PHOTOGRAPHY BY NAVANITA SAHA

WINTER DEATH TATIANA VAN BUSKIRK The once lively woods are now dead, Bitter winds bite, turn my cheeks red; Life around me stalls and sputters, My body halts, heavy as lead.Exposed skin burns white-hot and stings, Wolves look to the bright moon and sing The air hitches within my lungs Fear wraps around my throat like string. I feel a deadness overtake, My body as it starts to shake. I try to dodge the cold’s hard grip, But find it leaves death in its wake. I’m falling fast into the deep, Wishing I have more time to keep, But my eyes close ready for sleep, And my soul falls fast toward the deep. 3

MARIO GONCALVES X A BIRD'S WING A bird’s life depends on its wing; To make a nest out of twigs or string, To bring seeds for the old and young, During a beautiful day in the spring. The baby bird tries to learn to fly, To reach the mountain as high, But impossible with such a small wing, To even get up close -- to the sky. But as it trains and grows, With help from the wind as it blows; The bird then takes flight, Into a journey away from where it snows. Roaming around the world free, Stopping by a certain tree, And the wings are its key, And the wings are its key.

\"MY FATHER USED TO SAY, “DON’T RAISE YOUR VOICE. IMPROVE YOUR ARGUMENT.\" - ARCHBISHOP DESMOND TUTU \"ARE YOU SCARED? OR AREYOU NOT READY? THERE IS A DIFFERENCE.\" - UNKNOWN \"HOW OLD WOULD YOU BE IF YOU DIDN’T KNOW HOW OLD YOU ARE?\" - SATCHEL PAIGE

QUEEN OF HEARTS ANONYMOUS Queen of Hearts, Lady of Dark, Give me your powers, Lend me your strengths.Give me your light in the darkest hours,Leave me happy when the world is sour. Queen of Hearts, Dame of Terror, Show me your kingdom, Give me your empire. Let me reign over the world of love, Let me fulfill my desire

Inspired Valentine BRIDGET MCALLISTER

THE CHANGE KATHERINE FUCHSI want to live in the exciting, noisy New York City, where the cars take flight, And where the pedestrians rush around in the morning and stroll tonight; It all becomes overwhelmingand scary, and I settle into a town with a quaint sight,Where children spend their days in school and evenings playing with a kite.

HOW EASY IT WAS TO LONG FOR THE OTHER, WHERE ENTIRE WORLDS COULD FIT INTO THE LENS OF A CAMERA, WHERE TIME MOVED AT THE PACE OF A BOULDER DEFIANTLY SLIDING INCHES ACROSS A ROCKY EARTH SO WHEN MEMORY STARTS TO SLIP INTERMINABLY FROM MY HEAD, MY FEET CAN FEEL THE DESERT SANDS THROUGH A POLAROID SNAPSHOT ANDI CAN SMELL THE FRAGRANCE OF A CROWDED MARKET IN A MODICUM OF FILM. IN THOSE BRIEF MOMENTS I CAN LIVE VICARIOUSLY THROUGH MYSELF, WHAT I AM AND WHAT I WAS, A LIFETIME AGO AA LLiiff ee ttiimme eA Ag o g o KKyyllee BBoroorwoswksik i

THE INGENUE LIANNE JOSEPH EMULATION OF WAYFARER BY STEPHEN CRANE THE INGENUE,LOOKING AT OTHER’S WAY OF LIFE, WAS CONSUMED BY CONFUSION. MANY STRUGGLED TO STOP THEIR PAIN. “BUT,” SHE SAID, “IT CAN’T BE THAT HARD. “JUST SAY NO.” SOON SHE REALIZED HER IGNORANCE,FOR SHE DID NOT KNOW ABOUT THE WORLD OF DARKNESS. “WELL,” SHE MUTTERED TO HERSELF, “I HOPE MY ADDICTION TREATS ME BETTER.”

KARLA TORRES

BLIZZARD Erika Tamakloe I am cold and unpredictable. I show no mercy.Though I seem harmless at first, I can consume everything in sight If I am left unattended and free. I do not do this out of vengeance, for it is my nature To cause destruction and devastation. Most often I come down softly. Patterning the ground with soft flakes. I am gentle as I fall. But grow dangerous in the cold.Now I am a rain shower. A couple embraces me.They dance and splash in the puddles I provide. They are overcome with the love and comfort they feel in me and each other. I strengthen their bond, and cement their relationship. But out of my protectionTheir alliance weakens. They start to drift apart.As I fall, though, they come back together once more. And forget their petty quarrels.

TORNADO WILLIAM ZIVNY

GANESHROBERTO BENOIT

ELLIE CHEUNG X NYC LITTLE ITALY STRAYS OF CHINATOWN SHINE A LIGHT

Sea Briana Dalce Emulation of Mirror by Slyvia Plath I am ferocious and free. I have no direction. Whatever I cross, I control effortlessly Just as it is, despite the size or strength I am not wild, only energetic The burst of a little wind, soothes me Most of the time I find peace in the skiesIt is crimson, with yellow swirls. I have gazed at it all day. I believe it lies within my soul. But it’s dormant. Thunder and lightning tear us apart. Now I am a wave. A man tries to tame me. Sailing my waters for what he could find Then he turns to those inferior, the streams or the river. I feel his betrayal, and retaliate it viciously He fights me with frustration and an anger of words I’m an enemy to him. He bawls and cries Every evening it is his face that replaces the lightening.In me he has failed a young boy, and in me an elderly man Scolds him night after night, like a troubling thought

CALL FOR FREEDOM ROBERTO BENOIT

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