Farewell Day 6: June 6th with Jake S.

Jake is finishing his seventh-grade year at Holicong. Enjoy his offering this month!

My Land, My Home

 

The land and the sea are vast all around me.

I can hear the ocean calling, asking me to set sail.

The seagulls cry their mournful song above
I will stay here,

This is my land,

This is my home.

 

I won’t let my home drift away,

I won’t let my heritage decay.

I won’t let history repeat itself, again and again.

I won’t let it wash away, like the water in the riverbend.

I won’t lose my land,

My home.

 

The waves crash onto the shore, but calmly recede.

If only our problems were that easy.

As I walk away, the salty ocean breeze,

rustles the autumn leaves.

The wind causes my hair to go astray,

As the sun sets, the end of the day.

This is my land,

My home.

 

In the forest, the leaves crunch beneath my feet.

In the forest, the leaves brush against my cheek.

In the forest, the gentle breeze turns my cheeks a rosy red.

In the forest, I feel free.

In the forest, I see a leaf floating on a stream.

In the forest, the leaf gracefully slides on the water.

In the forest, the water flows without a care in the world.

In the forest, this is my land,

My home.

 

The forest parts to my simple home.

In this beautiful biome.

My family walks outside to greet me,

I know I should let life be.

I smile, though, my eyes betray.

How I’m really feeling on this almost perfect day.

A tinge of sadness and a vigilant gaze.

I must protect my family.

I must protect our land,

Our home.

 

The sunset, beautiful and bold.

The sunset, with colors so unimaginable they were never told.

The sunset, lets the stars flood the sky.

The sunset, a way for the day to say goodbye.

The sunset, a reminder of the past.

The sunset, a reminder of our tragic story.

The sunset, full of bliss and hope.

The sunset, watching over our land,

Our home.

 

I will fight to protect my family, my friends.

I will keep them safe until the end.

I will not let my guard down, after the scar that people have left.

I will not be unprepared, no matter how much rest.

For this is our land,

Our home.

 

I will tell our story over and over again.

I will tell our story until the very end.

I will stay in the calmness of nature.

I will stay in the beauty of the wild.

I will stay on our land.

I will stay in our home.

Farewell Day 5: June 5th with Kate M.

 We bring you today's poem from Kate M., who is just finishing her eighth grade year. 

I want you to notice me the way I notice you!

By Kate Monroe

I’m right here. I’m sitting right here, right behind you. I’m staring at the back of your head. I don’t want to stare at the back of your head. No sane person does. You are perfect and you in all your perfect perfectness are sitting a few feet in front of me.

Turn around. Meet my eyes. Make out with me in front of the class. I don’t care. Just say something, anything. Even just a glance would be better than…than this!

Say something stupid to make me smile. Say something flirty to make me fall. Ask me a question about what “A nosotros nos no gusta la falda verde de lana” means. And I’ll tell you, even though my morals tell me to not ask for the answers. I'll tell you anyway because I want something in my immaculate translation skills to make you see me, finally.

If we weren’t in the middle of Spanish, I would stand up with all my dignity lost to the wind and proclaim my love.

I don’t even know if this is love. What I do know is I’ve been a wreck for 6 months because of you.

Now, I don’t want you to think that’s a bad thing, because it’s not. You’ve given me light. You’ve given me a reason to smile in the mornings. You’ve also given me a reason to believe my day is ruined when you don’t walk into 1st period.

That’s being melodramatic, according to my mom. That’s, however, beside the point.

You just don’t understand. How I scream the most relatable lyrics of my life when I’m home alone, thinking about you.

If you could see that I'm the one

Who understands you

Been here all along

So, why can't you see?

You belong with me

You belong with me

So please, take a hint from Taylor, and see that I’m the one who understands you. Who’s been here all along, so why can’t you seeEEee?

Farewell Day 4: June 4th with Jaime P.

 Today's offering is from Jaime P, Grade 9. 

And Now You’re Finally A Star!

 

Ever since I was little I always loved to watch the moon,

As it rose slowly over the horizon and sat solemnly in the air.

 

My own, personal nightlight to save me from the shadow of a monster,

Created from the depths of my own misery.

My own doubt.

 

Never did I once stop to think about how lonely the night sky seemed.

The vast blankness— nothingness.

 

Now in my own jadedness I have to stand still,

And watch as the moon turns into a star, an Astro,

To fly higher than I could’ve ever held it.

 

Soundless sobs and suffocating sorrow is all I have left,

Because someone once told me that, like dandelions seeds,

One’s bound to let their emotions soar through the wind.

 

That's just human, and that's okay.

 

Healing is a long process,

Especially when there’s no more knowing what’s in the dark.

 

But I’ll always have the strength the moon once gave me,

To light up my nights on my own,

For now the moon has too soon become a star.

 

A faraway reminder of what had been,

What is no longer,

And the lives that will forever be touched.

 

-For M.B.,

May you rest in the peace you were always searching for and finally found. You were always more than enough.

Farewell Day 3: June 3rd with Anya A.

 Enjoy Sevenatenine member Anya A's work today. She is finishing up ninth grade!

And then I look at the sun.

Its dying.

Sinking.

Fading, behind the trees.

After another day.

Day, after day, after day.

Yesterday was like today and today will be like tomorrow and so on.

Forever.

Day after day after day.

Every day ends the same sorrowful way.

The suns light vanishes in an array

of orange and red, and yellow, and pink.

Day after day after day.

Under the warm cover of the sun a sequence of events play throughout my day.

Whether good or bad or fine or cool there is no way I can guess or say.

Day after day after day.

The drama, the romance, the essay, the exam.

Day after day after day.

Then when I get home and I go on my phone in my room all alone it’s the same.

Day after day after day.

“Why would you say that?” they type over text but never in school, only when I rest

In my home.

All alone.

On my phone.

Day after day after day

I cannot help how I feel I do not control my thoughts; they sway back and forth.

Day after day after day

I forgive, I forget, I excuse, I explain.

To me no one is wrong, they are just in pain.

Day after day after day.

Friends come and go; that’s what they all say,

But I hold on too tight, I put up a fight,

I don’t want you to leave, or ghost, or ignore,

Let’s talk it all out, lets go back to before

Before all this lying, and rumors, and love

To the simple days of childhood full of fortune and fun.

But we can’t.

We’re so smart.

So mature for our age

But what if I don’t want be?

Day after day?

So, I don’t.

So, I leave

 I avoid.

I procrastinate

And ignore

And ghost

And do all I said not to do before because I’m scared.

Of you.

Of your rumors and lies and anger and eyes,

Your friends and your glory your presence and your story,

Of you.

And then I look at the sun.

Its dying.

Sinking.

Fading, behind the trees.

And I smile.

Not for the death of the sun but for the life of the moon

I can finally rest.

Sleep.

Get away from the day that repeats all the same

Away from the drama the romance the friends.

Away from him and her and them

Away from me.

Into my dreams.

But then the next day the day will repeat.

The day like yesterday and today like tomorrow.

Day.

After day.

After day.

Farewell Day 2: June 2nd with Mackenzie J.

 Each day this month, a different member of Sevenatenine is saying farewell with a poem and a piece of art. Today, the selection is from Mackenzie J., Grade 8

A Halfway-Postmortem Conversation Between an Eidolon and a Triggerman

 

 

My murderer, my maker

The ghost who reprises my footprints

Ellipses left behind in the snow

The last face I ever saw

The one I can’t unsee

Just the friend of a friend

An acquaintance, that’s all

A eulogy

A faded scream

I thought you’d left behind a widower

I’ve left behind a vilomah

There’s no apology I can give you

You’re evanesced now, after all

Only dust upon the wind…

Sometimes I wish to join you

No, please

Please, don’t go too

 

But my friend, what will I do

Now that my only memory is you?

Farewell Day 1: June 1st with Ellana K.

To close out an exceptional year at Sevenatenine, we will present a different poet's work each day accompanied with artwork created by the poet. 

Today, enjoy work by Ellana K., Grade 7

looking at the bigger picture

When the wrens

sing their song every morning,

 

I think of the little stroke of paint to the picture.

I am told to look at the big picture;

 

As if the big picture is even a beautiful one

I am told to stop looking at the smaller picture;

 

but which picture shows

/earth/

 

then the big one?

Which picture displays my

 

life next to every 8 billion pictures then the small one?

 

which is a painting of our world and what we know it as

When will the bigger picture ever not be so philosophical,

 

as our lives was never made

to be but perhaps the earth just planned it to be

 

I don’t think

our life is meaningful it’s just a life,

 

one in 8 billion one picture in the big picture

one artwork time well spent on

 

that’s still as insignificant as the next

picture; the next painting

 

in the bigger picture

which isn’t as nice as we all think

 

it is

May Showers

 

Our spring allergies are coaxing tears: enjoy crying with us through this lachrymose May post. Now where is my Flonase? 

Let My Eyes Close

 

Puffy little marshmallows,

The tufts of fluff in rabbits’ ears,

A numbing coat of Aloe Vera

Across my burns and tears.

 

Slide a hand across my face

Though it seems so face away,

It’s warm and light like a feather duster

Keeping the dust at bay.

 

Swaddled up like a little lad,

A young mouse pup in their nest

Eyes wide open, lashes fluttering,

Waiting to fall into rest.

 

Feel my lips shudder softly,

Gasp as air stutters past,

Let my eyes close gently and slowly

and quietly…

 

As sleep engulfs me at last.

 

by Richard W., Grade 8

  Author’s note:  “it was MEANT to be nice and positive…”

 

by Mariana M., Grade 7

Hidden in the light, hidden in the dark

 

A lucent yellow light floods a pitch-black room in color

The same light against the sun is weak, diluted by radiant gold rays.

A story is told by one of dishonor, mischief, and fury,

then told by one of trauma, sorrow, and misfortune.

We all have blind spots in our vision, things we do not want to see.

The light tricks our eyes, playful, as if our trust is simply a game.

 

For whom are we to believe?

When the light distorts our thoughts

For whom are we to believe?

Without all-knowing knowledge.

 

Maybe if we could see in the dark, we could find the deceit.

Maybe if we could block out the sun, we could pinpoint the lie.

 

The light hides the truth

The sane

The right

The shadow hides the false

The betrayal

The wrong

simply trust your gut

Your mind

Your heart

 

Because nothing looks the same in the light than in the dark.

 

by Anya A., Grade 9

Being There

 

no name | no type of story

(Amy rising, now Everybody!)

 

by Jack D., Grade 9

Artwork by Mackenzie J., Grade 8

Sub Rosa

 

Out beneath the Sakura tree

They’ll approach with faces rose red

For just a moment, they’ll let themselves forget

And they’ll leave with brief laughter

And hair newly braided

While you hide your daisies from sight

 

You’ll keep it sub rosa, darling

Keep it hush-hush

They’ve no need to see

The flowers blooming

Beneath your bandaged wrists

Those roots of entropy

 

You’re a peacekeeper

A mediator

Your wish to help them smile

Between stomped out cigarettes

And bleeding burns

And debts

 

How cruel you’d be

To add another worry

When you can hold it together alright

 

by Mackenzie J., Grade 8

 

When you wrote MY independence, were you looking at ME?

 

Did the freedom fighters really fight for freedom?

I mean, for the dark skins, light skins, all the people of color

Is freedom really freedom if you enslave someone else instead?

 

Did you know butchered sold tortured gawked at

Not a pig in a slaughterhouse but a real human being

chased with dogs and shot at

High class society fancy dresses tailored suits prim and pressed

Her families dinner for a year traded for a frilly dress

Hushed quieted can you please zip your mouth

Because mama always told me No one like it when the truth gets out

Except for the wronged the persecuted the struggled

and here are the words out the mouths of the people,

I have been [REDACTED] down south they would [REDACTED]

That’s weird why can’t I speak, how about we try again [REDACTED] [REDACTED]

7 minorities all brutally impacted

If you don’t like the world than try to just act within it

I did try I tried and [REDACTED] [REDACTED]

That’s not what I said but here I am being censored instead

sorry if I am apprehensive but you will not cut my words off

That’s what I say but I’m shut down by white men in big suits that drink Jack Smirnoff

   Shut it down NO you will hear me out

 I am aggressive I am loud, so they put me in a cage

I am not an animal, but I am looking for a change

I will not shut it down and I will not cave or behave

 

I am a voice, I am impacted

Ignore me “redacted” but the fact is

If you don’t listen don’t help me help us

  Then do not be surprised when one day WE cut YOU off

 

by Avalyn C., Grade 8