“Stroll Through the Street Market” by Cindy Yoon / “Untitled” by Ammara Nazir

untitled / Ammara Nazir

Stroll Through the Street Market

cindy Yoon

Singapore awakens to the call of the Myna birds.

Their song 

echoes 

welcoming a new day.

Aunties and Uncles roll up their stalls,

Revealing a plethora of goods underneath.

The pungent odor of durian

The sweet scent of bak kwa

And the fiery aroma of chili flakes

Dance around creating a unique scent.

A scent special to Singapore.

The endless summer sun beats down,

upon the sea of people.

Women in Baju Kurungs, Men in Dhotis, Girls in Qipaos.

All from different cultures,

United together with delicious food,

A quiet but loud harmony.

To truly see Singapore’s hidden beauty

You must stroll through the street market yourself

“Stage Fright” by Lucy Beyer / “Float” by Ansley Teal

float / ansley teal

STAGE FRIGHT

lucy beyer

I could hear laughing like being held underwater by playful waves crashing down on my head laughing laughing laughing me under.

It’s like being wrapped tightly in a blanket composed of your own thoughts. Except the blanket gets too tight and starts to suffocate you.

 Like an anaconda and it’s prey,

my thoughts and me.

I’ve fallen prey to my own thoughts and it’s slowly killing me. No matter how hard I try, the screams of self-doubt and anxiety run wild through my brain. No matter how hard I try, they’re too fast for logical thinking to catch up. No matter how hard I try to remain still and calm, the real me fades away as I’m left in the dust, and soon there is nothing but fast heart beats, and sweaty shaking hands.

No matter how hard I try to take deep breaths, 

no matter how hard I try to lower my ever increasing heart rate,

 no matter how hard I try to focus on a single person in the crowd,

 no matter how hard I try to steady my hands,

my thoughts are too fast for me to catch up.

I stare at the audience. They stare back. I feel frozen in time.

I could hear laughing like being held underwater by playful waves crashing down on my head laughing laughing laughing me under.

*Italicized text from Jason Reynolds’ Long Way Down

“Restless” by Jack McBain / “Untitled” by Elliot Martin

Restless

jack mcbain

Losing focus

as thoughts

race through my head a mile a minute.

Bouncing leg

joining my brain

in the ever, changing, current, 

of thoughts.

Fingers tapping, the relentless, beat, of my mind.

TapTapTapTap

Following the chorus, of the sound, while it races through me. 

Thoughts derailing

as others take their place

and continue down the tracks.

elliott martin

Dear Younger Self… (10th grade writing contest)

10th Grade writing contest

DEAR YOUNGER SELF,

I‘ll never understand how you survived those days living in the plague
How you accepted all those answers never understanding how vague
The toxicity should have killed you, it would have killed a thousand men
Yet there I stand, hoping to teach you a lesson

rachael perez

(winner)

“untitled” / julia waldorf

If I could say one thing to my younger self, it would be to live in the moment. Every year I look back at the year before thinking wow that was the best time of my life. I never learn to appreciate the present, but wish I was in the past.

evie Vincelette

(runner up)

What´s it like?

What´s what like?

What´s it like being grown up. 

Responsibility, accountability, and maturity. 

What are those? 

Don´t worry about it. 

Worry about having fun and being a kid.

But I want to be an older kid. 

You don’t want to. Stay young we aren´t anything cool.

peter resnick (runner up)

HONorable mentions

Hey, Lindsey. 

I’m writing to you to give you valuable advice.  Don’t do the handstand on the coffee table.  It’s not as amusing as you thought.  Your older self is now suffering with a scar across her forehead that stands out in the sunlight.

Lindsey mcculloch

Dear little Emma,

I know you’re having fun right now, and I’m proud of you. But always remember to enjoy the little moments. Never take for granted what you have and always believe in yourself. Growing up is scary, but it comes with its advantages. Just remember, you’ve got this.

emma rosekrans

Dear Sam,

Hey, it’s you from 3 hours in the future… While you recover from that shock, here’s an idea. Try to finish your submission for the school writing contest.

4 hours later:

Dear Sam,

Hi, it’s 1 hour later… You finished it. Let’s hope we can win this thing!

sam mclaughlin

What’s going on past me? I’m from the end of this year. And no, it’s not a good year, but make it better and Listen Up. You wanna get rich? You need to invest in GameStop stock – trust me. On January 22 this year, it’s going to skyrocket. Get rich.

tyler groeber

I am 15 and you’re 4 so you should trust me when I say don’t go sledding. If you do, you better move when your cousin Malik says, “Watch out!¨  Don’t be a fool and try to turn around to see what is about to happen.

Daiveon richards

The Mask by Olivia Stein / Untitled by Bridget Monro (Fall 21)

untitled / Bridget monro

THE MASK

Olivia Stein

The Mask
Mask of light and color
Hands painted silver
Wood swords and costumes,
playful performances on the cushions.
Running in the garden.
Harmonious,
Playful,
secure.
Boundaries are blurred into a vibrant versatile world.
Then comes the shadow,
It meticulously watches your actions.
Precise,
Skeptical,
Neglected.
The garden has died.
Costumes hidden in the cupboard.
Cushions are just a place to sit,
Hands are dull.
And its gone,
The Mask

Source: https://www.nytimes.com/2021/05/11/arts/design/sophie-taueber-arp.html

“Hero” vs. “Villain” by Yohan Garcia / “Untitled” by Carl Warren (Fall 21)

“hero” vs. “Villain”

yohan garcia

“Hero”

Seen as happy

Seen as successful

Thought to be immune

Never caught in the act

Life with scandalous secrets

All goes unnoticed

Their happiness kidnapped

Eating away at one’s soul

Tearing relationships apart

All to be a “Hero”

“Villain”

Always lonely

Just wants to be noticed

Sorrowful childhood

Never checked upon

A broken hero

Masses of potential unnoticed 

Desire for happiness

Attempting to find their soul

Scared of relationships

No different than our “Hero”

untitled / carl warren