20th Century
Pop Culture
Raven Rhymes
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~~Sonnets~~
These sonnets were written by Honors and College Prep students after reading Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet"
War
Sickly sweetened like summer's rainy sky,
and festering and stinging like the dead;
moth-eaten linens and a tear-struck cry,
stares a little boy with a stitched-up head.
Bloody knives and guns turned to golden coin,
grinning, grubby faces with silver teeth;
and under tattered flags do masses join,
dancing on the graves of many beneath.
Burning crosses and mausoleum doors,
seeping through the sky are Red, White, and Blue.
All that's seen is blood, lost in oil wars;
the colors of intolerance are true.
And while some still believe, I know not how;
yet air near rusty flagpoles holds that vow.
Katie P.
Untitled
In the mind of man, there´d lie train tracks;
these tracks ease by thoughtful towns with much folk.
Two girls, Hope and Faith are throwing comebacks
and give light notice to the train's chain smoke.
On the tracks they fight, oblivious now,
not knowing more than the moment they stand.
For the loss of their friend, Love, they hurt somehow;
the child known as Guilt is harsh and unplanned.
The train wheezes by and runs over Hope.
Faith takes a glance at the bright, gory wreck,
decides to react and ends her life's rope.
You may ask, "Why did she jump? What the heck?"
But try; understand, she wasn't so safe,
'cause when you lose Hope, you also lose Faith.
Cassandra Delgado
Icarus
The sun above shines not on us today;
veiled, its secret behind shadows does hide.
Because to hide shame darkens light of day;
its blame for making Icarus collide.
And yet, though sun and moon and stars were blind,
and all the world below did seem to gape;
a world he tried so hard to leave behind
met him and ended his dreams of all escape.
He, with closed eyes, stares off into the night;
felt wind's embrace begin to stay his fall.
The dream revived with wings, once more, took flight
and bore Icarus swiftly from it all.
And though the sun did slow his dream to soar,
a dream, once dreamed, can not be stopped once more.
James Upton
Seasons
Are you as dreadful as an autumn day?
Like a dying tree among the decay,
like a rotten leaf which withers away,
do you bring the cold and bitter gray?
Are you as awful as a winter night,
with cold spirit and frozen heart?
Raining snows and sleets with terrible might
piercing faces with your cold frozen art.
And if you relish the gray autumn air,
and joy in the cold, sad tears of harvest;
can't wait for the white to replace the fair
and gloomy fading which life is depressed.
And if your love comes from these chilly seasons,
could all the holidays be your reason?
Matt Pieri
Quis Custodet Ipsos Custodes (Who Will Guard the Guards?)
So the question is and has always been,
"What punishment is meant for the Wicked?"
What of the punishers? What of their sin?
Exempt from the law? Were that I were dead.
Is "Quis custodet ipsos custodes"
applied to those without the power to thrive?
Less is more, lest more become less;
not only the daring take the dive.
Who will watch the watchers, if I may ask?
Who will make sure the guards are untainted, then?
It's a hard, destroying, and thankless task,
doomed to fail, doomed to die, doomed to start the mend.
We always wondered what justice is, marred;
discard the notion for "Who will guard the guards?"
Kate Waddell
Untitled
The world goes by, and we don't even note;
we are too transfixed on the "finer things."
Just want something more like a car or boat,
never stop to hear Mother Nature sing.
We all seem like a colony of ants,
the same mind-numbing routine everyday.
All that torment to get that pair of pants
or to buy a glistening rock at Kay.
Wealth for a dismal life is beyond me;
enjoy life, and assist other with theirs.
Soak in the seeping beauty of the sea,
or absorb the splendor of having care.
I'm not telling you, "Abandon your stall."
I'm just saying to stop and gaze at it all.
Jared York
Lost in an Open Sky
The sand, unmoved, alone with the ocean;
the sun falls, sits waiting to be forsaken.
No sound here, not even a small motion;
the world sings out life that wasn't taken.
A single star in vacant open sky,
seen by no one, cries out her emptiness.
She sits alone, lives only to die;
she is awakened by moonlight's first kiss.
A shine from over the mountain's white tips-
the shine rises over as a bright flame.
A feeling of lost love from the light's tips-
a forgotten twist until nighttime came.
Once, once again, there's love at bright moonlight;
the shine has now been put back into sight.
Tristan de Burgh
Reflections and Projections
A bright, golden sunset seeps through the sky,
as we look back on the warm summer day.
My sweet memories passing me by;
friends, beach, trips, everything going away.
On the horizon, warm orange and reds glow,
illuminated by the touch of God.
What lies in the future? I do not know;
Is it real, or is it just a facade?
And then, as the daylight fades into the deep,
darkness overcomes the bright summer day.
And into the ocean, the sun will seep;
ties between light and dark will start to fray.
Everything dims, yet the stars will shine on;
everything dims, yet my soul will strive strong.
Erin Shafqat
Love's Grasp
Bye and bye, alone and waiting I stand,
wishing on that dream and that one sweet bliss;
from that someone whose grasp matches my hand.
No grasp a sure fit, my heart's full of this:
I'm in love with love, to my sad despair;
cursing my life and painting it in dark.
I pray every day for the strength to bear;
though it is hard, I search for that one spark
to light my life and to guide me along.
A winding path, wherever it may lead,
I journey on, sure, with heart full of song,
living my life as I like, to succeed.
As we grow older, we all have to deal;
'cause lives are full of broken hearts that heal.
Al El Wardani
Nostalgia
Together we wept, arms 'round each other;
wanted to make this day remembered.
We knew thi was our last day together;
now I think about us this December.
I tried to forget all the time we spent,
covered it up with hopeful substitutes.
I wanted all my nostalgia to end,
but I realize there's no replacing you.
I'm weeping again, this time all alone;
my heart is sinking each time I breathe in.
Although my love for you was amply shown,
leaving you behind was surely a sin.
Again and again, I try to forget;
though I know it will be a huge regret.
Mark Tegtmeier
All Your Lies
Looking deeply, searching into your eyes,
like through a window on a summer day;
it is not hard to see through your clear lies,
but "Why?" I don't know why it is I stay.
Your ego's so big, it soon will explode;
painfully tortured, slowly you kill me.
The seams to my life, broken and unsewed,
because your lies are all that I can see.
But still I weep and pray each night for you,
wondering why I love and care so much.
Soon I'll push you away and leave you too;
you will not quiet me with your sweet hush.
Now you're lying once more, but not for long;
I walk away aching with pain, but strong.
Lindy Crandall
Field of Dreams
A field of dreams is wating to be filled.
The new thoughts of children's minds wandering,
the young ones dream but their dreams will be killed;
the children will always be pondering.
The field of dreams waits for every newborn,
wanting to be filled as the child grows;
or pain will come like a side with a thorn,
fantasies fading like a death-kissed rose.
Better to have dreamed than not dream at all;
all children lose faith, and dreams are dying.
The bare plain, echoing like an empty hall,
kiss them goodbye--away dreams are flying.
Though fantasies die, they will be replaced;
fulfill dreams before you, too, are erased.
Kelly Kean
Sonnet #3
It's not difficult to write a sonnet;
the rules are the things I can't get by.
Fourteen lines, ten syllables, one couplet-
the rhyming quatrains in a plot must tie.
I took out today a paper and pen,
in hopes of inspiration for this cause;
staring blankly at white for hours, and then
for words for this sonnet, I was at loss.
I tried a love poem, wrote one filled with cheese,
made a cute one, put children to shame;
at least I knew that the birds and the bees
were not what to write of--instead this came.
A journey through poet's block you were sent,
and now my sonnet has come to an end.
Jasmine Wang
Raven Rants
~~Protest Songs~~
These protest songs were written by the 20th Century Pop Culture class after studying the era of activism in the late sixties and early seventies
Guilty by Suspicion
Every time I see a police car driving by,
I'm scared outta my mind, and I don't know why.
I'm not looking for any trouble,
just having some fun.
'Cause around here, it's against the law to be young.
Around here, you're guilty by suspicion.
Went down to the corner store,
walked through the front door.
I felt like getting something to eat;
as I came in, the clerk jumped out of his seat.
"Hey, what do you want? Just get the hell out!"
Said, "I'm not doing anything wrong; there's no need to shout."
Every time I see a police car driving by,
I'm scared outta my mind, and I don't know why.
I'm not looking for any trouble,
just having some fun.
'Cause around here, it's against the law to be young.
Around here, you're guilty by suspicion.
Went downtown to skate with my homies,
tried a trey flip but couldn't stick it.
Cop pulled up and walked right up to me,
no questions asked, he gave me a ticket.
I said, "It shouldn't matter what clothes I wear
or how long I keep my hair."
Every time I see a police car driving by,
I'm scared outta my mind, and I don't know why.
I'm not looking for any trouble,
just having some fun.
'Cause around here, it's against the law to be young.
Around here, you're guilty by suspicion.
Around here, you're guilty by suspicion.
Zach Blackman and Ian Eisenberg
Untitled
Flying our troops into the sand,
fighting over oil, arguing over land.
Images flashed across every newsstand,
stolen faces, faraway places.
Waging this modern holy war
to settle your father's unfinished score.
College dreams, they'll have to choose;
because in this game, we all lose.
We're fighting guerilla warfare, just can't win;
it's like Vietnam all over again.
Car bombings, shootings, and helicopters crash;
this is nothing like what we saw on M*A*S*H
First-time elections put them back in control;
you needed WMDs to help your campaign in a lull.
Inked thumbs and hands form a peace sign;
when will you realize we've crossed the line?
Laura Cuccaro
Video games and organization--just some of my favorite things
~A slam poem~
So we all have our guns,
why not try and use them
to shoot each other?Even better, let's shoot our classmates
because I saw it in a video game.
So that must be the right thing to do,
because to us, creativity doesn't exist.
He said he does not like change,
so instead he said, "Let's go and pray."
Pray at our local church,
to pray to a God,
our lovely God.
And don't forget to donate more money,remember to give more money
'cause they say that's the Christian thing to do.
This is my protest song.
It's quite fine if you don't sing along,
because you might not agree
with what I'm saying.
Instead, let's go fight a war
so we have something to die for;
because this is my protest song.
This is my song.
Jeremy Schwartz
