Giving Up There is a weeping willow that stands in the middle of my yard Casting a dark shadow Upon the grass I peer Through the drooping branches But my eyes are closed I ask the tree to grow proud In the middle of my yard all it speaks is a whisper Into silence Others call my tree beautiful At times with lots of sun But they cannot see the shadow My weeping willow hangs lower In the night It rains until only blue is In the sky The wind blows the mourning dew To the dark shadowed grass For the day must begin despite Haircut The time just isn't lining up Impatience sinking in Extremely irresponsible But alas, I must give in I run to grab my tools A sharpened tandem blade, A 2-D vudu twin in which I look for my scheme to begin I tie the object of my tweaks So it will not run loose So very unprofessional What do I have to lose? I wield the scissors in my hand; Raise to my head, the pair In the mirror I try to watch As I unevenly cut my hair. Harmony Layton (11)
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The radio in PopPops truck was barely audible with the static white noise interrupting every other word in the song. PopPop was humming and nodding his head as if he was agreeing with the singer. Yes! You did write this song. Yes! I like it! I knew the song. Catchy. It’s not what I’m into, but I doubt my PopPop would be into my rap songs blaring through his speakers. “Life is a highway, I’m gonna ride it all night long.” I was thankful for what we could hear of the song because I didn’t know what to talk about, and I hate awkward silence.
“IF YOU’RE GOIN MY WAY….” Oh, God, now he’s singing. PopPop is singing. Singing and nodding now. I definitely would prefer awkward silence. “ALL NIGHT LO--OOOOOOONG,” continued my grandfather. He really liked this song. How long until we get to the rink? When I was staring out the window wishing for time to speed up, PopPop made things even weirder. “Oh! Fed Ex truck!” he said excitedly. “Are you... expecting a delivery?” I asked. “Nope. I just like the trucks.” So weird. “Because if you think about it...there’s more,” he continued. How much further to the hockey rink? “Oh...ok.” The truck now merged over into our lane, and we were directly behind it. “Seriously. Look at it. What do you see?” he asked. We and the truck pulled up to a red light. Stop delaying this ride! I shouted at the stoplight in my head. “Uh, I see a white truck and a Fed Ex logo.” “No. There’s more. Look again,” he pushed. The truck slowly rolled forward increasing the distance between us. The roar of the exhaust silenced the static radio. I looked at the truck rolling away from us, and I saw nothing but the white walls and purple and green letters that made up the logo. To my excitement, I also saw the neon lights of IceWorks hockey rink. Freedom from this awkward conversation! I said to my PopPop, “All I see is a purple FED, and a green EX on a white truck.” PopPop pulled into the parking lot, and the FedEx truck continued off into delivery land, out of my sight. “Well, then you’re not looking hard enough. There’s more.” Totally weird. “Thanks for the ride,” I mumbled as I grabbed my bag, shut the truck door, and shuffled into the rink as fast as I could without being too rude. My PopPop is really freaking weird. There are few things in life better than getting paid overtime as a teenager. You just have to go out and find them. “That’s $11.45,” I told the man on the other side of the counter. “For two hot dogs and a drink?” He didn’t make any motion to reach for his wallet- he wanted an answer to his question first. “Dude, I don’t make the prices, I just sell the stuff,” I responded. “Well, dude, tell your manager, that these prices are crap.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of money. What the heck does he care about $11.45? He’s loaded. He handed me $11 and two quarters. Balancing his hot dogs and soda cup, he grumbled, “keep the change.” Five whole cents for me. Fan-freakin-tastic. The job wasn’t bad. I got to use the rink for free whenever I wanted, and I could usually sneak a few snacks each shift without anyone noticing. Making $7.00 an hour wasn’t ideal, but when the games were in session no one was coming to the snack bar. I used that time to get my homework done to keep my grades on the average-side and keep my mom off my back. Today was really busy though because it was New Year’s Day, and we had teen tournaments all day. Teams from all over the state were rolling in, and the rinks were all booked back-to-back. Lots of hungry teens today meant I had no down time. However, I was making bank, because the rink is required to pay employees time and a half on holidays. Winning! As the night went on, teams were eliminated, and the rinks started to empty out. I found myself staring at the clock and bored out of my mind, so I started doodling on a dispenser napkin. Without really thinking about it, I started to draw the Fed Ex logo. From memory, I was having trouble remembering. Was this the shape of the letters? Is it one word? FedEx or two? Fed Ex? Are all of the letters capital? Is it an acronym for something? Why do I care so much about this? “ Hmmm Hmm.” I was jolted away from my sad attempt of artwork. “Oh, sorry! What can I get for you?” I asked. The woman in front of me had obviously been here all day. She looked cold, flushed, and like she wished she never let her son take hockey lessons. “Can I have a bottle of water and a soft pretzel?” I got off my stool and went to the cooler. I grabbed a bottle and on the way back I took the rubbery pretzel out of the heater. “That’s $7.50 please.” “Seriously? For a pretzel and a bottle of water?” She shook her head and sighed as she rummaged through her bag. Where was her money? “Here.” She pushed the money into my palm, grabbed her outrageously priced refreshments and huffed away. Happy New Year, lady. For the new year, maybe get yourself a new attitude! There are few things in life better than an unexpected day off from school. You just have to go out and find them. Three days back from Christmas vacation, and we get hit with a massive, wonderful snowstorm. It’s a good thing too- we hadn’t had a break in a while. Back to bed I went to sleep until mid-afternoon. “Get up!” Suddenly I was being shaken in my bed, and my covers were being pulled away. I grabbed the blanket with both fists and pulled with all my might to bring them back up to my neck. “NOW,” I hear. My mom thought she was stronger than me, but I had the blanket up over my head now and my legs wrapped around the majority of it. She wasn’t getting it. I’m winning. My mom took one final blow, and she stripped it right out from my grip. I was instantly freezing, and instantly pissed. “What? We don’t have school today!” My mom started big-rolling up my comforter in front of her body as she left my room. “Yeah, but I have to go to work. Which means YOU have to shovel the driveway so I can get out. UP! NOW!” Why? Why? Why? I flopped over onto the floor, trying to savor any warmth that was lingering from my sleephood. When are we going to invest in a snow plow? How about a snow blower? Shoveling sucks. Maybe as a thank you, maybe as a peace offering, my mom made me breakfast, so I couldn’t be too mad. As if I was trying to stall, which I wasn’t, I ate my breakfast slowly. Mom seemed to be more and more annoyed, so mission accomplished on my part. Fine. I’ll Shovel. “Thank you! I wish I could stay home like you, but you know how it is. Call PopPop and let him know that you won’t be needing a ride to the rink today” my mom said as she gathered the remains of my breakfast. “Why won’t I need a ride? I’m still going to work later” I said. “Oh, no you’re not. Not in this weather,” my mom replied without making eye contact. “You’re going out in this weather!” I said a little too condescendingly. “I’m an adult, and I’m not going anywhere unless you get out there and shovel.” Mom continued to grumble about she wasn’t in the mood today for this kind of attitude and how she wished that she had a job where she could work from home or maybe have a million dollars and wouldn’t have to work and then she could get a maid and a cook and her life would just be perfect perfect perfect. But I had already left to go upstairs and change. I put on my jeans and hoodie because snowsuits are for losers. It’s really annoying to shovel when it’s still snowing. It’s all in your eyes, and your hands are freezing. You put a little dent into the snow piled up, and then it just fills back up with the fresh little shits. I cleared mom’s car and enough of the driveway that she could get out onto the road. She gave a quick wave as both a goodbye and thank you, and she started sliding away down the street. A few more passes with the shovel, and I’m calling it done. As I was getting ready to call it quits, I heard a truck struggling to come up the hill. The engine was revving, but the tires were just spinning. It was a Fed EX truck I saw, and it tried to reverse then slam the gas to jolt it up the hill. No use the second or third attempt, but eventually it started slowly making its way up near my house. Nice! A snow day, a snarky convo with mom, and a package delivered? What a good day. My anticipation grew as it always does with the possibility of a secret package being delivered but my excitement quickly died as the truck drove right past my house. No surprise deliveries for me today. I was just about to roundhouse kick a major pile of snow I just created when something caught my eye. I stopped and looked at the Fed Ex logo getting smaller and smaller in my view. And I saw it. Pop Pop was right- there IS more. Do you see it? ‘Depression’ By Noah Pedersen (12) To feel as though you are stuck in the cold of winter To only see one thousand shades of blue When you travel through a cold barren wasteland Where your cup is forever empty Do not dwell in your sadness Lest you wish to drown in the river To swim in the eternal river To trudge through the snow in the winter A cold bitter companion is your sadness You cannot break free from the blue You look to the night sky and see that it is empty And your heart is a barren wasteland You walk alone in the wasteland You are deeply submerged within the river Life flows through you though you are empty There is no green in your eternal winter If you look deep within your mind, and all you see is blue, Then you are stuck in a deep void of sadness Rain falls in your mind and creates deep puddles of sadness This is the only water in your wasteland The yellow of the sun has become deep blue And harsh is the current in your river Cold and bitter are the strong winds of the winter And the entire world is now empty The once plentiful jungle is now empty Or have you been blinded by your sadness There is no warmth in the dead of the eternal winter And your life has now become a desert wasteland To drown in this river Is to only see the color blue All around you is now blue And the world that you live in is empty Continue now down the river But do not drown in your sadness Do not lie down in the wasteland Or you will be covered with snow in the winter The only color that appeals to you is blue in the midst of your sadness Look around you and see how empty it is in your wasteland If you do not leave the river, then it will freeze over in the winter Dominique Lovejoy (9)You think that you are incomplete, You clothe your missing pieces with wordy stanzas And incoherent thoughts- To think that You are incomplete, That just because most people are finished You should be too- To think that you should be finished, My darling, it is not your season yet And God knows you will bring the most beautiful bloom While others may have already been written, You are still writing your story And that has made all of the difference. -”My Daughter is Writing a Story” Abby Zolty (11)
Denial I want it for my childhood For that single little dream I’ve held in the back of my mind That dream is part of me But I’m not confident I’m not good enough Yet I still wear my heart on my sleeve It doesn’t break me down outside But when the wind rushes in I watch that window shatter to pieces And my dream, it must end - Aubrey Hurst (11) Mike DiGiandomenico (12)
Drummer Boy Quarters: One Family’s Bond
By Mr. Glenn Moyer My Mom Mom was an amazing lady, as all grandmothers certainly are. I remember her playing checkers against me when I was a boy and making the biggest and best pancakes. Turns out another activity Mom Mom had was collecting drummer boy quarters, and the rest of my family has followed her in that pursuit. Mom Mom passed away in 2001. She collected drummer boy quarters. A drummer boy quarter is one that has a drummer boy on the tails side, instead of the eagle. On the heads side, the date is written as 1776-1976. These quarters were made in 1975 and 1976 to celebrate the bicentennial of the United States of America. My dad explains how Mom Mom’s interest in the drummer boy quarters began. He says, “Mom Mom was an old lady, home alone. Collecting drummer boys gave her something to do.” Then my father continued the hobby when Mom Mom died and left him “400-500” drummer boy quarters in her will. He explains, “This is a way to remember her.” Ever since my father began, I too scour my change, looking for drummer boy quarters to give to him. My older brother searches for them, and my dad has several friends who keep an eye out for these special quarters. While this may seem so very exciting, and you no doubt want to race out and find a bunch of drummer boy quarters, hold up. What is their value? Not much. According to coinvalues.com, most of the quarters are worth face value - 25 cents. If it is marked with an “S”, it is worth up to 50 cents. So, no one is going to get rich by hunting these quarters. Mom Mom died almost 20 years ago, and yet she is with me each day. Whenever I get change, I glance through it, looking for drummer boy quarters. These special quarters have become a bond, from her to my father to me. Silent Death Sitting in the crowd I feel the silence come The layered sound is booming Yet I'm alone in my thoughts But I am not thinking I am not there I am in a world And I am completely unaware The sound, it overtakes me The silence falls right in And my final quiet medley Turns into a vicious clamor Sophia Manidis (9) Lydia Griffith (9)
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