HMX Writer SPring 2024

Alice Isnani

"'I can’t keep on going like this,' I thought glumly.

“Coming back, you overgrown cowardly son of two putrid hedgehogs?' rang the mocking voice of Verl from somewhere across the room. 'Run away now, while you still have two intact legs...'"

From James Brockwell's "Almost Twelve Years"

"I stepped outside and the rush of cold fall air hit my flushed cheeks and the leaves cackled underneath my feet. My house nestled between a forgotten forest and an endless field of every flower and plant. Covered with ivy, the house had a beautiful blue stone archways and a big red door. I grabbed my old red bike and shoved my army green backpack into the wood basket. As I walked across the long gravel driveway, I started to wonder more about music. The notes swirled around in my head creating rhythms, chords, melodies, and harmonies. I rushed by the rolling hills, stout stone walls, and decaying wood fences. The green canopy above me rustled as the wind picked up. I pulled my bike into the rack and sauntered over to my favorite place at school, the music room."

From Violet Widboom's "Note After Note"

We sailed up wind, then rounded the first mark, as the wind continued to build strength and was getting more gusty. I had a feeling in my stomach that something bad was going to happen but I didn't know what. I ignored it and enjoyed the feeling of the ocean air and the water behind me. We had already secured our spot, leading. We were already twenty-five miles from the start. Then the blue water turned a dark navy. The setting sun started to disappear behind the clouds. The wind started to pick up fast. We decided to switch sails so we sent Jamie out onto the spinnaker pole to exchange the jib with a smaller more appropriate sail. The big gusts were bowing through more and more, some of them reaching up to twenty-five knots. As Jamie stood on the pulpit (front tip of the boat) to lead the sail change, it was at that moment that disaster struck and the spinnaker pole snapped, slamming into Jamie right on his head. He crashed into the dark, malicious water - face down.

From Alex Reiss's "May Day"

Artist: Aine Jacobs Guzman

I write to show anger on a page,

I write to make laughter,

to make a cold room into a warm, laughter-filled room.

I write for joy, writing down all the memories makes my day more fun.

From Amy Weigel's "Why I Write"

James Brockwell, Julia Moss and Mara Mitchell

"One hundred and fifty years past,

Pride in Māori heritage abounds.

A Kapa Haka group in every school,

and Māori names restored.

The treaty mismatch unresolved,

but a bicultural land emerges."

From Hayden Pollack's "Treaty of Waitangi"

My mom

Is a flower-loving woman

She smells like a blooming flower

On her flower bed

Mi mama

Tiene los ojos mas hermosos en el mundo

Como los océanos

La quiero mucho

From Ezequiel Gonzalez's Poetry Live! winning "My Mom"

Artist: Victoria Seelal

"The important thing about fire is that it

Feeds off of oxygen like a wild animal

As it devours its prey."

From Estelle Bulova's "Importance of Fire"

Read more of her poem and the Poetry Live! winners

Like mother, like a youth, her body’s bold.

Though she is not my mind, she is my soul.

She speaks of words that wound and stab her hold.

Her hand pursues her bones like their control,

But I see the charm that the light withholds.

I see the way she shines from a contour,

The shadow of lovely and pretty molds.

Unlike my daughter, their minds are not pure,

My daughter's a mind and curves of her own.

As true reflection lies within a glass,

My sweet pokes and pricks her skin ‘til it's bone,

But beauty is not told within one’s mass.

For belly be fat and rich be her mind,

My darling daughter is one of a kind.

Violet Peluso

Read more sonnets here

Artist: Áine Jacobs Guzman

Artist: Yasmin Godinez

From top left, clockwise: Charlotte Medalla, Evelyn Stoltz. Julia Moss and Hettie Sullivan

"Your eyes, once a canvas of freezing nights at sea,

Now hold untold sagas, a path filled with agony.

Tales of endings, loss, and maladies, a migrant's cross to bear,

A testament to the trials countless souls share.

Yearning for your family, your children, your wife,

Left with a family, cloaked in darkness, devoid of light."

From Evelyn Cervantes' "Journey To The Free: Your Untold Story"

Artist: Miles Senior

HMX Writer Editors

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Artist: Sofia Marcucci

Advisor

Loraine McCurdy-Little

Artist: Rae Perlmutter