Liv

16

"Looking Back"

I shouldn’t have kissed you back
My mistake was letting you love me.

Sun told stories in our skin
Our legs surrounded by grass and weeds
Rifts were created in lives not our own
Rants were had by people unknown
You blew smoke into my hair and laughed

It was then that I decided I loved you.
It is now that I tell you I am sorry.

Elidia

15

The summer heat you got to beat, for endless thirst is coming. Water so crisp, you can not miss. The only liquid that keeps on running.

Do you hear the summer sound? The summer sound is near. For if you hear the summer sound you really should not fear. But once you hear the summer sound there are drums that keep on drumming.

Talia

15

The school bell rings three times,
It’s the first day of June,
The children run recklessly from the overflowing halls,
Eager to dance under the the illuminated sky,
After months spent staring at an endless string of notes and rules,
Their minds are innocent, unaware of the passing of the season,
Like wide-eyed infants, they crawl into their new haven,
Eager to gobble up every last sunbeam and flower that they can find.

The ocean pounds into the shore,
Never growing tired or weary,
Much like the children who play in the indigo water,
It’s the middle of July,
The children have long forgotten their lessons,
About the sharks and monsters that infest the waters,
They only notice that the beach has a pungent scent of nostalgia,
Though it’s aged and changed since they last met.

The horizon gobbles up the sun,
It stretches its arms to kiss the sky once more,
As the children are tucked into bed for the hundredth time,
They no longer fit into last year’s school clothes,
Much like their minds that have become deepened and matured,
Through the gentle caress of the passing of time,
It’s the last day of August,
The school bell rings three times.

Linda

16

"Sweet Bliss"

Behind the muffling voices
Tangled in the complicated choices
Lies the biggest mysteries.
Adventures adding to the most enduring histories.

Said to make mistakes.
Said to fall of the barrel from time to time.
But, the thing is,
We’ve got a rhyme.
A system of rhythms and beats
Never to be completed.

Secluded from society,
Lost in a world of the born again.
Free to be anything of me.
Zipped open from the head to toe.
Spinal fluids, organs.
Restricted from escape,
But the life free to remake
A galaxy of possibilities.

Soaring among the loons,
Over the deep Sebaego lake.
In between cabins,
Past campers dressed in blue.
Tucked away from the norm,
Capable of escaping the storm.

Not hooked up in drama
Or concerned with the big, and blank, future.
Just me and a friend, with never an end.
No time twists or past events could ruin this.
Sweet bliss.

Beyond the textbooks.
Learning more important skills than Chemistry
Becoming a leader of society,
But remaining forever an adolescent.

Whether we be rejects
Or just mixed up souls,
First chance we get,
We'll ditch the control.

Winter, Fall, Spring
Slither along like a worm,
Disturbingly slow.

But then comes a time lapse,
Magical in effect,
Tempted to be tampered with for a collapse.

Majority rules.
No minority could district our freedom from school.
A month,
Maybe two.
Secluded from society.
Adventures added to the most enduring history.

Alison

17

tar

remember how tar stuck to the soles of our shoes
and tried to keep us grounded?
you still flew.
i watched with eyes like the high tide
as you became the moon
and let the undertow take me.

the summer i realized the moon doesn't speak
i swallowed the ocean,
baptized wounds in salt water
so i might embrace you again.
yet there you remain
suspended in black
kissing stars and planets
while i curse the tar
stuck in my soul.

Liv

16

I never said goodbye to you for a reason.

We were flung together
in the beginnings of June,
our love had a salty bite.
We always had an expiration date.
As the days roll on now with you gone
I miss those soft and gentle hands
each crease and fold in your young skin
holds a piece of me.

I never said goodbye to you for a reason.

Towards the end it was bitter.
I know your unforgiving eyes all too well.
The addiction that you were
has left me in need of your love
and the knowing that if I had it
I would be worse off.
I couldn't let myself be hurt.
But I will forever miss your
watermelon kisses
and your smoke flavored laugh.

I never said goodbye to you for a reason.

Emily

17

Nostalgia

And I still remember the day
We jumped over the railing
In the restaurant
And ran across the mall
For a new comic book at Barnes and Noble

I remember summer days
When we’d all lie on his trampoline
And contemplate life,
Teenage angst and
Sexual frustration

In the back of an oversized car
The smell of fried leather
Our favorite band breaking the windows
Swigging cranberry juice from the carton
Headed who knows where

I’d come home from band practice and walk
To her house, and she’d make me
Some new recipe for dinner
While I annoy her by talking about
The callouses I was developing

I don’t remember the day I met any of them
First sightings
First impressions
Friendships aren’t recalled from start to finish
Just moments
Scenes
The smell of the room and the
Temperature
The setting
The lighting
Each moment indulges every sense
With the feelings involved in that
exact
second

And slowly, changes are made
One switched schools
One switched friends
Closets liberated
Hopes are devastated
Problems are abated
Shes become hes
Lines are
Blurred, Minds opened
W i d e
To accept giant bear hugs
That would once make us
Snap
But no matter the change
Good or bad
Chosen or inevitable
I’ll always remember what we were
Each meaningful moment captured
In the high quality color film
In my memory

Sophia

14

It goes slow and then all at once__

Red light. Green light.__
And maybe then a yellow light, but hey-__
let's not call the sun yellow, but let it be white__
and pink__
vibrant, blooming heat to melt into your soul__
and you can't stop drinking it__
one glass after another__
after another after another__
somebody once told me, it was one of those wet days in april, that a rose is a rose is a rose__
but it's not. A rose is three roses and then six, but why math?__
just give me a dozen roses, and a quick flower on my cheeks, on the lips__
and that'll be enough for now__
but that pink light, that sun, that maybe, hey-don't call it yellow light__
gold, like a flash of a locket on a brown neck, a warm brown neck__
swinging and swaying, but always there__
following along with the dancing shadows__
YES, keep on going__
on sunlit paths__
warm curtains of rain__
and salt on the wind__
and that dozen will grow to twenty four__
and maybe when you have to walk into that cold room of sales and pencils that don't belong to you__
you'll have a room of them, them roses__
they don't all have to be red, you know.__

Zaria

16

it's too hot to touch
nights like these you sit on the roof
ignore the red on your collarbone
stinging sensations

you take a breath
the second opens the synapses
he's too close for comfort
because 'you're a senior' he says and you reply with
'I know'

you are empty and suddenly have the urge to kiss him
but
the humidity feels like enough, his finger tips on
your wrist to ask for an explanation

because when people ask you about him
you say that you both are more summer than winter
unable to finish thoughts
half-eaten, chapped lips

and you both feel more human than alive
palms upturned to heaven

he 'needs' a smoke
but decides to stay and trace
the lines of your eyelids with his fingers
the curve of your jaw with his mouth

it's the last day of summer and
you feel so close to the stars but too far away to reach them
and he's too hot to touch

Julia

15

Summer Storm

She sits on sand that simmers from the sun,
Who flees from clouds that cage his joyful rays,
But they envelop his light till there's none.
She watches this transpire from rainy grays.
She comes to sit and watch the sea revolt
As winds reign over miles of aqua jewels,
Usurper kings of nature with their volts
That strike the waves like they are brazen mules.
She loves the scent of sky on mortal sea;
The heavens bringing order to the world,
With chaos issued, proper by decree.
Now hell from up above is fast unfurled.
The lightning pure is shocking to the eye,
God's fingers reaching leagues across the sky.

Danielle

15

"Bananas and Jellybeans"

When you walk upstairs, your stomach tightens anyway.
You know that he is waiting for you; he always does.
But you grip the banister firmly,
to provide the stability your jelly knees cannot.

You breathe in the warm honey heat,
viscous fluid that is smoothed in layers on your skin
..............that sticks to your t-shirt
..............that sits in your stomach
..............that lines your throat.
It’s a heavy saccharine kiss, a moist sting, and a gentle burn.

You can see him from the top of the stairs,
with his back against the locker that is next to yours.
You keep your eyes on your toes, and don’t meet his gaze
until you are standing next to him.

He has a long, thick eyelash stuck to his cheek
and a bead of sweat behind his left earlobe,
now
..rolling
....its
......way
........down
..........his jawbone.

“Do you want to go to the park?”
he asks.
“I packed bananas and jellybeans.”

You nod and smile and the two of you walk
....down the school’s un-air-conditioned hallways,
....down eight flights of un-air-conditioned stairs,
......out the door, and to the park.

You sit down under the shade of a Japanese Maple tree.
You cross your legs and
he stretches his out so that
the white and sky blue plaid fabric of his shorts brushes your knee.

He peels his banana from the bottom
and eats his jellybeans two at a time.
You peel your banana from the top
and bite each jellybean in half
so you can see how the colored sugar coating hugs and crumbles around the chewy, translucent center.

You love him and he likes you.

Kaitlyn

15

Dream Summer

Let’s carpe diem:
walk on the moon
stained rocks of night’s
cobbled roads and
find our smiles
like we find seashells
on beach days. I lay down
with thoughts of you and me-
me
me
meep.

I shift to silence my clock
and imagination.
Summer jobs don’t permit romance
dreams.

Jordan

17

“Out of Season”

I wanted San Francisco
to apologize for its dead-July chill.
But if the harbor remembers me the next year I visit,
it’ll know my outlandish hypocrisy
in complaining about the cold.
I’ve been freezing all summer.

I have no excuse like a sea in my harbor
and no compensation like fresh fish and orange bridges.
Maybe it’s my weather patterns that draw heat away,
make me susceptible
to abrupt lack
of warm curiosity in the Kraken and the depths of the ocean
which I, the imaginer,
should seasonally consider,
and make me uninterested
in laying on beaches and stepping off piers
which I, the alleged waning youth,
have heard is a trademark of the warm season.

Maybe it’s just been too cold.
I fear I’ll have to wait until next season and see if I thaw.
If the harbor remembers me,
it’ll know that the warmest dream I had
came when I was shivering on the wharf,
thinking about marrying someone,
or being someone,
who believed in the Loch Ness Monster
and ran across freezing beeches
despite San Francisco’s dead-July chill.

JonPaul

16

I traveled all around
What I was looking for I found
True love was not my search
Adventure was my only thirst
From beaches to mountains
I was quenched by a never ending fountain
I flew over oceans
Uncertainty was my emotions
Hope, excitement, joy, fear
But the emotions in my life didn't steer
When given the opportunity I went
Back home postcards I sent
This summer has changed me
But the first step was the key

Emily

16

Aporia II

August is a chemical burn-
a slow, satisfying burn.
It's bleach through my viens,
napalm and a match.
It's mustard gas
chuffing through my lungs
and it's hot
and it's filling.

August is sludging and slow,
dripping from my tongue...
I love the drip.

You are August.

You are the corroding
in my aorta-
festering my insides.
August, you are a parasite.

Eat me.

Take my bones and flesh,
my hair, my knees.
Take my days, August,
all thirty
and leave me to the riptide,
the pull-
leave me to you.

Gabriella

18

Summer in the cathedral
All done up in purple light
I like how aware it is of its own magnificence, a cathedral performing itself
Even a robed chorus expelling a wordless chant
And occasionally an organ swelling its damning pulse in

Priest pushes his words at me like a steak across the table
His lusty fingers together like crab claws
The mothers keep excusing themselves
Moving out and in through the side doors
Patting their round-headed babies on their terrycloth bums
Their babies sound like a chorus of sirens, and squirm, and bat
Their fists faintly against the air above them
Flat black sky expands slowly, like a mold in the lungs

It’s time for us to call to mind our sins
The best part, it’s best to call them up in church
Because you get to roil in it, in the stillness
Anyway, he asked me to
I actually call to mind my sins all the time
But usually this only makes me want to sin again
Thinking of threading my arms around her
Laughing loud and sloppy in her ear
Then I think I might be the Anima Sola of this church
Beautiful in the midst of all this fire
Radiant in heat

Joseph

16

The Man, the Sun and the Sea

The Man's eyes lay upon the vast ocean blue,
As the summer sun dims to a timid hue.
While his days dwindle down to a precious few,
He remembers days long past due.

The Man, Couragous and free,
Glides along the open sea.
The dingy he masters is all he needs,
Because on the ocean he is truly free.

The Sun, Comforting and True.
Lights the way on the ocean blue.
For sailors, boaters and crewmen alike-
The sun is truly a summer sight.

The Sea, deep and blue.
Provides life for me and you.
Sea creatures, humans and sailors know.
The ocean is the best place to go.

As the man chuckles, his breaths slowing fast.
His memories come back at last.
The fun and adventure, being wild and free.
Always ended up at the sea.
The man smiled, as he knew what was next.
It was his time to join the sea again, safe at last.

I love you Grampa. May your Summer be as calm and cool as the roll of the sea.

Maia

17

Snapchat Summer

I press my thumb to the screen,
hold down the half-eaten pie next to your name
and watch as you giggle-shriek
with shirtless boys and almost shirtless girls clutching red Solo cups and
carelessness. Your flat ironed hair falls into the frame, hides faces
you probably won’t remember when the time runs out
and these moments are deleted, forgotten
like they never happened.

Your summer hides in an app on your phone, and a million views
won’t make it real
enough, your picture frame memories will never be as real as folk songs
and sundresses, late night whispers about him and then and what-if.
Yours is a pictures-or-it-didn’t-happen kind of summer,
an is-that-even-candid type of summer, a temporary, public,
only-‘til-you-lift-your-thumb Snapchat summer.

Your summer is pixilated and fleeting.
When your phone runs out of memory,
will you, too?

Sometimes I wonder if sunsets existed before Instagram.
Maybe they just weren’t as pretty
without a filter, without followers, without
seventy-two likes to tell them
they were beautiful.

Teaaaaaaady

16

why do i cry? back 2 skool

Anjeli

17

You waltzed clumsily into my August,
all elbows and knees, almost too tall to fit through the door
I found you at a party,
under the blissful oasis of a spinning fan
I remember
your grin hung crookedly on your acne-pitted face,
those hands three sizes too big for your wrists,
the hair that stood on end
as if you’d jabbed your thumb through a socket
The whole effect
left my tongue in hopeless hitch knots
We wandered out,
on some concocted pretense
My heartbeat thudded in my throat
as I stumbled, numb-fingered with fear, in your wake
making sure not to tread on your shadow
The summer people had gone to god knows where,
the streets post-apocalyptic and pristine
Our facades unraveled as we walked,
palms slick with sweat,
wherever it is we’re going