The Oracle
Find Your Voice.
Bishop Canevin High School
Student Journal of Creative Writing & Art
Spring Edition: 2016-2017 school year
Inspired by the Human Experience
Photograph by Kaylah Alford | 2017
Hope is Red
by Julian Bonds | 2017
Hope is a crimson heart
Shining in the souls of the content.
Hope is a big cherry rose
Swaying in the rough desert wind.
Hope is a cardinal in the snow
Softly chirping in a bitter sea of white.
Hope is a glowing fire at night
Lighting the encompassing darkness.
Hope is a crisp apple in the morning
Invigorating tired eyes.
Hope is the scarlet blood of Christ on the Cross
Offering love to those who follow.
Hope is red.
Its shade is distinct in the dreariness.
And all can witness its dynamic hue
Which gives them energy to carry on:
Filled with spirited energy.
Be You
by Andres Recalde | 2018
Out of the darkness and into the light,
My writer’s block left and I started to write,
My mind filled with colors and concepts galore,
My distractions have gone and run out the door,
I felt inspired and an earnest drive,
Writing my emotions has me feeling alive,
But every so often, I hear a shout,
“Hey, slow down, you are letting too much out!”
So then I recede and feel subtle shame,
Surely my mind isn’t what’s to blame,
So I stop and analyze my beliefs,
I see what is wrong is not my motifs.
It’s my fear and anxiety that’s to blame,
There should be no reason why I feel any shame,
Everyone’s emotions need to be let free,
Because what you feel is not always what they see.
Just Like Her Youthful Spirit
by Schanelle Saldanha | 2018
Samantha swung against the wind on her bright red swing. She was humming her favorite song to the wind's calm melody. She tried to contain her feet from hitting the ground, but at last she let them free. Free; just like her youthful spirit. With each gulp of air that found its home within her body, her swing elevated higher into the air. She began stretching her arm to try and reach the only leaf left on the barren tree. It was a golden shade with a subtle orange hint. She anxiously tried several more times, struggling to grab a hold of the solemn leaf. She spent hours; isolating her eyes on the very aspect, stretching her hands further and further each time, never giving entrance to the thought that she might never reach it. Finally, with all her strength remaining; she pushed forward and caught the golden leaf. Filled with the greatest joy on earth, she ran free. Free; just like her youthful spirit. But, what her naive mentality didn't realize was that this leaf wasn't just one of nature's counterparts. It was something more, something that couldn't be seen with the naked eye, but something evident through the eyes of the wise. It was determination.
Today, fifteen years later, she remembered that moment. Staring out into the audience of many emotional faces, she wore her Valedictorian sash with humble pride. She watched as her classmates moved their tassels, anxiously awaiting her turn. "Samantha Williams", called Principal Henry. The world around her became still, the audience mute, her footsteps gentle. She walked across the stage, received her diploma with her left hand, and shook Principal Henry's hand with her right....(just as they had rehearsed). However as she walked across that stage, she recognized a mirror, a mirror of yesterday. The reflection exposed four-year-old Samantha on her favorite red swing. That mirror was her determination. Only this time, when she turned her tassel, she was soaring higher than that red swing had ever taken her. She let out a little giggle. She was free. Free; just like her youthful spirit.
Artwork by Sophia Charron | 2019
Photograph by Allie Porter | 2017
The fall comes after the rise
by Jack Shorthouse | 2018
The fall comes after the rise
To get your hopes up then to lose it all
The hype, intensity, to bring it home
For this is the time to show them all
I had what it takes for the win
But then came the fall
It nearly was here the chance of my life
But the fall always comes before the rise.
Photograph by Anna Gestiehr | 2017
Artwork by Bella Dugan | 2018
A Sonnet
by Connor Gaitens | 2017
Shall I ever know the true cause of love?
I've been around the world, but now mine's small.
I have seen all, but I only choose one.
My heart and my dreams lie with only one.
Her heart is pure, her head is full of dreams.
With a heart of gold and a silver tongue,
She stole my heart like a thief in the night.
My love is a bittersweet symphony,
For I know in my soul, she is too good.
How can I match the love of an angel?
I will love her forever and always.
She is the gentlest creature of all.
Her voice lights up a room and warms my heart.
Can I ever show my true love for her?
Fish Tank
by Joe Leckenby | 2017
Life seems perfect for fish in a tank.
Swimming around gracefully all bright and colourful.
The little blue fish helping the great big ones.
There is no fighting no arguing just helping and
having fun in a small community.
The fish look at we humans not knowing that
they have it better than us.
Life never changes inside a fish tank.
Photograph by Lauren Gamble | 2018
Photograph by Allie Porter | 2017
Life
by Richie Bochicchio | 2018
Life can be miserable sometimes
Whether if your are a fighter or a lover
Whether if your an athlete or a book worm
We are all books judged by our cover
We need to forget about this though
And remember what life is really about
To show it's not about the outside
But what's on the inside that counts
Some start from the bottom
Others start at the the top
But the sky is the limit for everyone
And we shouldn't be able to be stopped
We control our own destinies
We choose between the right and wrong way
But if you work hard and make the right choices
Then life will be great every day
A Lonely Soul
by Andres Recalde | 2018
Beyond the rusty, broken iron chain outside
Past many lush green, rolling hills
On the rural outskirts of town
Down a meandering dirt trail
Into sweltering tropical forests
Across multiple swift, crystal streams
By a royal majestic Poinciana tree
Lies a panicked puppy with a rusty, broken iron chain.
Photograph by Kasey Kaczorowski | 2018
Photograph by Henrietta O'Brien | 2018
Satire
by Danny Bigley | 2018
Cameras flashing, reporters shouting,
From the House come congressmen, touting
The Acts promised to Americans
So they could abandon their shamans
and choose which necessity to lose.
These congressmen, terribly late,
Only were able to dictate
The promise repeal and replace,
Without even having a trace
Of a notion how to equate
Wealth and health, playing with our fates.
How to make The American Health Care Act:
Take The Affordable Care Act, and redact
Any semblance of affordability
And then with overwhelming agility
Uninsure all those huddled, sickly masses
One step closer to Putin, heil the fascist
Haiku
by Kyle Rush | 2016
Woah, what a throwback
Alumni don’t write poems
Should have stayed that way
Photograph by Danny Bigley | 2018
Inspired by Nature
Photograph by Henrietta O'Brien | 2018
Beach Poem
by Chloe Marasco | 2018
The dusty sand colored sidewalks
laid a perfect set out path in front of my dark chocolate eyes
Upon my constant hunger for adventure
I stood there and stared off into the blue crystal sea
As I brought myself to break the mold and stray down the sidewalk
my barefoot soles felt a burning sensation from the sun kissed path
I felt a salty breeze sprinkle on my glowing face
cooling my greatest worries
As I inched further from the mold and closer to the clear baby blue waters
I noticed a crack in my perfect set out path
Stepping over this blemish filled my body with empowerment
soon my fears and insecurities vanished
I leaped into the soft pillow sand and ran to the deep waved sea
The cool temperatures made me feel myself worry free at last
And I'll I had to do was take a leap
Spring: A Sonnet
by Allie Porter | 2017
As the snow melts and the spring flowers bloom
I breathe in the crisp air around the room
The bright big sun feels so warm on my skin
Spring is here; I cannot help but grin
The grass turns green again, the plants all sprout
Nature is so alive There is no doubt
The scent of sweet flowers fill the warm air
The sky is blue and trees no longer bare
Animals are born; life begins again
I take a deep breath and only feel zen
The peacefulness of spring soothes my soul
The vibrant colors are nothing near dull
Whether it's raining or sunny and bright
I know spring will bring joy to my life
Photograph by Becca Fitzharris | 2018
Photograph by Cam Rush | 2017
The Ocean -- A Portrait of You
by Brianna Caridi | 2018
The year after he left, I couldn't focus. I saw his eyes in the blue I used to paint my picture of the sea in art class. Too many times I had watched myself drown in that arctic water, and each day as I continued working on my painting, I drowned all over again. I got a C on that project, and honestly, that was a generous grade. When I look at that picture now, I see that I painted him. To most my artwork would look like a poorly painted picture of the ocean. To me, that water was him. The swirls of the waves were the short curls of his hair, his rough, calloused hands were the sharp rocks of the beach. His eyes were the sky and the water, they were the entire painting summed up in one word. His voice was in the clouds, I could practically hear them speaking to me.
I hung that painting above my bed for a few weeks, and then one day I came home from school, and I tore it down. I shredded it into a thousand small pieces until there were paper shards all over the pale carpet of my room. Then I sat amongst the paper, I felt the sharp edges on my bare skin. I remained that way for a while, I couldn't say how long it was. Eventually I stood up and slowly cleaned up the paper, I threw all of the pieces away until I was left holding the very last one. For some reason, I couldn't bring myself to throw it away. I held it in my hand and I thought I was going to cry. I glanced over at a box on my dresser where I keep things that are important to me, and I opened the lid and placed the stiff paper inside the warped wooden walls. I didn't think about him or the painting for months, I forgot about it all.
After quite some time had passed, and he had long been forgotten, I happened to open the box by chance on a Sunday afternoon. I found a small scrap of blue paper, and I met with his familiar eyes once again. And I wanted the appeal to be gone so badly; I wanted to feel nothing. But there I was again, drowning on my bedroom floor.
Grains of Sand
by Emily Brosky | 2018
Grains of sand cover my feet
The sound of crashing waves enters my ears
Cawing seagulls fly above
The sun is shining bright
Children are playing in the sand
They adorn their sand castles with seashells and other objects found on the beach
Water suddenly rushes over my legs
Its cool sensation meets my hot skin
It retracts back into the wide blue abyss
This is paradise
This is summer
Photograph by Danielle DiPaolo | 2020
Photograph by Henrietta O'Brien | 2018
Summer
by Kayli Sheridan | 2018
A soft breeze hit her skin
The summer air filled her room
She could hear the waves crashing on the shores
Watching everything around her in perfect harmony
The seagulls walking on the warm sand
Families starting to pile into the parking lot
Carrying their colorful chairs and umbrellas
The children hopeful of finding a hidden treasure
Spring Haiku
by Sean Ferguson | 2020
Snow starting to melt
Orchids blooming, birds chirping,
Finally, Springtime,
Photograph by Kayli Sheridan | 2018
Artwork by Sophia Charron | 2019
Spring
by Kayli Sheridan | 2018
The cold, wet leaves fall from the trees
The dandelions sprout from the ground filling the green grass
The bees and birds fly around
The animals come out from hibernation
The rain falling from the blue sky, splashing onto the ground
The sun radiating off your skin
Spring is here
May is soon drawing near
The fires burn on a cold winter night
by Jack Shorthouse | 2018
The fires burn on a cold winter night
Logs are getting charred by the heat
Radiant gusts of warm pleasure
A warm house on a cold night
We gather round to gain heat
For it's getting cold as the night goes on
But we must keep the fire roaring
To keep us warm through the night
Photograph by Chloe Potosnak | 2018
Artwork by Delaney Bird | 2018
The Cold Without
by Julian Bonds | 2017
Two sets of footprints in the snow,
Walking opposite ways
Under the moonlight's mild glow.
Constantly moving under winter's soft gaze,
They march on their quest
Among the snowy white haze.
Extending over the hills to the west,
They roll past barren trees
As they fight the cold's test.
They seem to meander with relative ease
Until the steady string stops
And the pace seems to freeze.
For in the snow in the form of two dots
Are two big knee-prints
And a couple red spots
Yet, the other set does what's
Until now unseen
By turning to the fallen one
And giving an arm on which to lean
They walk for a while
And their footprints are meshed
Until the fallen one reverses
And goes back to his test
As far as I look,
The sets are alone
But for that one bonded patch
Where the two sets are one
Photograph by Cam Rush | 2017
Inspired by Trials & Tribulations
Long Gone
by Maddie Walter | 2018
Little did he know, she was long gone.
Not physically, but emotionally.
Her eyes no longer had that special gleam,
But he was so desperately in love with her that he didn’t notice.
She knew she was wasting his time, but she couldn’t help it.
All of the memories of what was stuck close to her heart.
It was obvious to everyone around them that something had changed.
No one uttered a word about it, trying to keep the dream alive.
Maybe letting go would have been easier if they talked about the distance.
Their friendship could have remained, but now nothing could be salvaged.
When they talked, she looked past him into a future of being free,
But he remained loyal to a future that would never bloom.
Letting go can be just as hard as holding on.
Even if you feel the passion on the surface, you won’t feel it below the surface.
He wanted to remain in a place of warmth and comfort,
While she couldn’t wait to get away.
Photograph by Becca Fitzharris | 2018
Photograph by Bella Dugan | 2018
Life: A Sonnet
by Zoe Woods | 2017
If it doesn't open then it's not your door.
Keep on searching in your life there is more.
Try to find comfort on difficult days.
Be faithful to God, he’ll bless you always.
Know that you are loved just the way you are.
On you darkest days you're still a star.
So get up each morning and know you're blessed.
Give your cares to God and don't be stressed.
Smile and be happy and then you will see.
The world around you will follow with glee.
We tend to focus on all of the bad.
Living life like this will only make you sad.
Positive thinking will make your day best.
Keep that in mind and you'll be up to the test.
The Blessing of School
by Andres Recalde | 2018
She had lost all control,
Or at least that’s what she thought,
School on a whole played a role,
In making her feel distraught.
Her favorite time was bed time,
Because that’s the only way,
To stop working overtime,
On her brain that works all day.
But alas it’s far too late,
Her ticks are showing each day,
An anxious and stressed brain state,
Has caused her brain to decay.
She was socially distant,
Now more than ever before,
Her brain was nonresistant,
The stress hurt her furthermore.
Until it was all too much,
She thought she could live with all the pain,
Depression had her in its clutch,
And slowly, there went her brain.
Photograph by Alana Losego | 2018
Photograph by Chloe Potosnak | 2018
Out of Reach
by Michael Kirsch | 2018
The buried treasure was just out of reach
He heard rumors that it was somewhere on Malibu Beach
He first went over the sand with a metal detector
And found nothing but the sluice box from a prospector
Then he went through the ocean using a submarine with radar
All he found was an old corroded crowbar
His last idea was to take his search to the skies
But all he found: nothing but a bunch of lies
Artwork by Macaila Ziolkowski | 2018
The Passage of Time
by Jon Knoll | 2018
Staring At An Unfamiliar Window
Staring At An Unfamiliar World
Looking At The World Rise Anew
What Once Was Gone, There
Newborn Birds Chirp With Glee
Flowers Beginning to Bloom
Sunshine Streams From Up Above
The Skies Hue Becomes Blue
Life Has Returned
Staring At A Familiar Mirror
Staring At A Familiar Person
Looking At The Years Gone Away
What Once Was There, Gone
Children Grown With Families
My Heart Has Grown Weary
The Light Of My Youth Spent
My Blue Skies Turned Grey
Life Has Expired
Photograph by Cam Rush | 2017
Photograph by Kayli Sheridan | 2018
Faces
by Kara Schaffnit | 2018
I'd come to you
Just to go away
I'd laugh when
You'd ask me to stay
But now that
I really see you
With somebody
I think, "that's new"
I guess that I'm
Just used to your love
So much so it has me
Missing your touch
I don't miss anyone
That's just not me
I've never been so wrapped up,
But suddenly
Your face is all I see
Your face is all I see.
Testing
by Andres Recalde | 2018
A nervous twitch,
An awkward itch,
Feels like I’m running out of time.
A clueless gaze,
A confused haze,
Everyone said it would be just fine.
The truth is stinging,
A bell is ringing,
The help I need is divine.
The class leaves,
I conceive,
That my grade will surely decline.
Photograph by Kasey Kaczorowski | 2018
Photograph by Alana Losego | 2018
Photograph by Chloe Potosnak | 2018
The Sailor's Chantey
by Danny Bigley | 2018
Mischievous lovers seldom flee;
Rather stay near and torment thee.
Malice and spite and constant fights
Oh, Lovers, how cruel they can be!
Take, for instance, Stella Schnee,
Who threw her spouse into the sea!
He swam, he flailed, away she sailed,
Oh Lovers, how cruel they can be!
Tragedy oft you can't foresee –
Suddenly, life is but debris!
They tear through, devouring you:
Oh Lovers, how cruel they can be!
Mischievous lovers seldom flee;
Rather stay near and torment thee.
Malice and spite and constant fights
Oh, Lovers, how cruel they can be!
Dinosaur and Ice Cream: A Sonnet
by Sydney Hnat | 2017
I love ice cream with all my heart.
It's cold and sweet, oh what a treat!
Every flavor shoots up my tongue like a dart.
It can't be beat; it's the best thing to eat.
Yet I cannot eat this delicious treat,
For my arms are too short to let me eat.
The cone could never reach my teeth,
But being a T-Rex is something I could not bequeath.
The taste of sprinkles brings me to tears.
I've missed it so over the years.
What I could do if I had longer arms!
How I could live a life of charms!
My friend the pterodactyl helps me eat,
And now my life's turned so upbeat.
Artwork by Sydney Hnat | 2017
Inspired by the Arts
Photograph by Danielle DiPaolo | 2020
Photograph by Kaylah Alford | 2017
Ancient History
by Joe Leckenby | 2017
A long time ago in ancient Mesopotamia there lived a man of about 35 years of age. The man was a bit older and he probably only had about five years left since people only lived until 40 in those days. This man was in trouble he was having trouble catching his breath. He would try and try but his breath was just out of reach. So he went to the ashipu which was the first step to getting better. The ashipu said that he had to be honest about his life so that he could get better soon. The man told the ashipu that his life was going well up until about two weeks ago when he started to have an affair with his neighbor. The ashipu said that the hand of one of the gods was making him sick because of his sins. The ashipu calls his colleague the asu over the asu is the diagnostician whereas the ashipu is the spiritual advisor. The ashipu explains the situation to asu who consults the Diagnostic handbook which contains symptoms and treatments to use he even consults the patients medical records on cuneiform tablets. The asu then decides to mix an ointment made of herbs for the man to put on his chest. A week goes by and this still doesn't seem to be working and the man starts to get worse. Another week goes by and the ashipu and asu continue to work together. The ashipu is busy trying to cast spells but to no avail the patient still gets worse and worse they decide to perform surgery. The asu tries his best to put the patient to sleep; cuts open his chest and discovers these blister-like sores he then drains them and
stitches his chest back together applying a sesame oil dressing to prevent infection several weeks later the man recovers. Thank goodness, thank goodness.
A Distant Echo
by Willa Potosnak | 2018
Out of the darkness came a distant echo
Music erupted in a soft libretto
Filling the empty halls with visions of light
As the phantom walked through his past in the night
With endlessly long curtains torn to the floor
A sharp creaking noise escaping the back door
A dusty, lone piano with chipped white keys
Its gloomy, wistful music spread in the breeze
This lifeless theatre with its forgotten lore
Brings those of the night, sweet music nevermore
Artwork by Clare McMahon | 2018
Artwork by Austin Scott | 2017
The Elephant Man: A Found Poem
by Anna Gestiehr | 2017
Merrick has no hope
Creature without consolation
Physical hideousness
In order to survive
Humiliations, I repeat, humiliations
Merrrick forces himself
Exposes himself to crowds
Disgust by all who behold him
Mother Nature uncorseted
Expressions of horrors
Difficult to bear
Freak of nature
The elephant man.
Othello: A Found Poem
by Sydney Hnat | 2017
For my particular grief
Is of so flood-gate and overbearing,
Nature that it engulfs and swallows other sorrows
And still itself
As truly as to Heaven I do confess
The vices of my blood
I will round unvarnished tale deliver
Of my whole course of love
Of what charms
That I did love
With all my heart
I confess it is a shame to be so fond,
But it is not my virtue to amend it.
The Heavens forbid
But that our loves and comforts should increase,
Even as our days do grow.
Photograph by Lauren Gamble | 2018
Artwork by Caleb DeStefano | 2018
Othello: A Found Poem
by Austin Scott | 2017
I would not follow them.
I would not be Iago.
In following him, I follow but myself.
What is the matter of this?
Sir, I will answer anything.
Thou art a villain.
Give me taper. Call up all my people.
Is it too true an evil?
Truly, I think they are.
Never tell me.
Trying her duty.
Gone she is.
They flew through the starry skies
by Kayli Sheridan | 2018
They flew through the starry skies
In between the cracks of the mountains
Over the shimmering water and under the canopy of the trees
The boy in the green hat took them to a place children dreamed of
He took them to a place filled with adventure
A place where they could be free
Fighting off the man with the mustache and the pirate hat
In the end they return home
The image of the boy fading away from their memory
Photograph by Bella Dugan | 2018
Artwork by Alyssa Smith | 2017
Sand is Rough
by Michael Kanavy | 2018
Sand is rough
And coarse,
And irritating,
And it gets everywhere.
But not like here,
Here everything is soft,
And smooth, and nice,
Unlike the sand.
I hate the sand,
From my point of view,
The sand is evil,
It betrayed me.
With my eyes wide open,
The sand poured in,
And blinded me,
Keeping me from finding,
My strawberry milk.
Photograph by Danielle DiPaolo | 2020