Table of Contents
Poetry + Proseanchor, Nikunj Giridhar yellow sky, Abby Lu Sea Crows, Raycel Dizon The Colors We Were, Charlize Andrews Untitled, J.S. left going east, Abby Lu The Porch, Charlize Andrews daydream, Neeshal Gupta realization of love, Charlotte Rebeyrat Balanced Unbalance, Charlize Andrews Supernova, Raycel Dizon train station, Abby Lu Syzygy, Charlize Andrews Inured, Charlize Andrews surroundings, Charlize Andrews |
Prism Slate, Laya Nair |
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Special thanks to the Green Level HS National Art Honor Society for their contributions to this edition.
anchor.Nikunj Giridhar
In the stressful storm of a busy life, one source of serenity, centers me. Melodies attuned to my memories, lyrics striking deeper than lights of life in the sea, each beat giving way to the rhythm of my heart. Music pulled me out of the trenches, gave me the strength to jump my mental fences: through the heart-tugging ballads of somber reminiscence, through the harmonies in harmony with emotions that I hid, through the constant rhymes and beats that helped me keep my distance. In the whirlwind of thoughts I harbor inside, one source of serenity Anchors me. |
suffocate, Shaili Shah
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Waves in the Clouds, Charlize Andrews
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a serene storm, Liane Ma
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a still world, Charlize Andrews
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sunset lot, Nikunj Giridhar
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yellow skyAbby Lu
significant things seem to exist on simple nights. it is a return to the house after a routine weekly grocery shopping trip on a sunday evening in december, and the sky is a soft, yet bold orangish yellow that fades into a calming purple. some of the disrest that is sitting in my body dissolves, but i feel almost uncomfortable with the pureness of the colors in the cloudless sky. it feels exposed and vulnerable, but oddly brave. i am jealous of its fearless expression. i am ashamed of my jealousy. some things are physically bright, like the light of the sun at noon as you’re exiting the dark movie theater, but still brighter are those things that are bright without appearing so to the eye. tonight’s sky is the latter. i look at the yellow gradient of the sky through my phone camera. it is too bright to look at directly. |
Sea CrowsRaycel Dizon
I feel my cheek with the back of my hand and say it’s exceptionally cold and you say yes, it is. And we sit there for a moment listening to the waves crash and I say there are sea crows in the sky and you look up and say yes, there are and I say that is exceptionally odd because nothing here is dead and you say yes, that is. I ask if you’ll keep agreeing with me and you say yes, you will and I ask you why and you say I know why and I bite my lip till it tastes like metal and say I do. I wave you goodbye and set my mirror down. I fall back asleep in the snow. |
Estrangement, Esha Macha
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Snowfall, Daneen Khan
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Starry-Eyed, Daneen Khan
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The Colors We WereCharlize Andrews
Now that I sit here, thinking it through,
I’ve never been anywhere as blue. Yet I stood there, cold With you. Now that I sit here, using my head, I’ve never seen anything as red. Yet I stood there, heart throbbing With dread. Now that I sit here, memories I unpack, I’ve never opened a life as black. Yet I stood there, time wasted Without being able to go back. |
trip to the museum, Jaya Nadella
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Candied Delight, Anais Lopez De Jesus
Audrija Bhattacharya
Purple, Stella Zhou |
UntitledJ.S.
she was the color of rain clouds
full of hope yet sorrow at the same time a token of good luck but the cause of anxiety you would dream of her fingertips running down your stomach yet fear the day her skin would touch yours she was always in the midst of two worlds you were standing on the edge of one she was standing on the edge of the other the distance between you the size of a galaxy she was unattainable but she stood her ground as if she was your last chance of living her instability brought chaos the type of chaos that ended in pain in grief in feeling she was bittersweet she thawed out the numbness chipping at your heart yet drowned you in feelings of remorse so you had to let her go as if she was just a dream but maybe that's all she was meant to be too distant to be a memory but too close to be nothing |
left going eastAbby Lu
things feel strange, as if everything has switched direction overnight, and while i was heading east on the highway yesterday with everyone else, i am on the wrong side of the highway today, because everyone is now going west.
even my breath has changed direction, and i cannot follow it. my inhale gets caught in my throat. i try to exhale, but there’s no air to release, or perhaps my lungs are holding on to it so desperately that i can’t expel it. i vaguely discern that there is someone with me who i used to know familiarly, who i used to love fondly. she is facing me, but not looking at me, and it feels abruptly hollow. she says something, and i know before i hear her voice that i won’t be able to respond. i realize that i don’t know how to talk to her anymore. the last of my breath finally escapes from me. when did she decide to go west instead? why couldn’t she have taken me with her? |
Wildflowers and Weeds, Daneen Khan
Solitude, Daneen Khan
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The Flower Vase, Sophia Lee
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The PorchCharlize Andrews
Dancing
Not in the kitchen, nor the rain, nor the street On the porch A muddy, meretricious place Yet perception portrays purity Air hushes Light wanes Sight remains. Solitude embraces Standing there, both taciturn His gaze beams through my skin And rushes through my blood Beats of heart intensify, eerie still. Until a noise approaches Someone enters; The seraphic moment ends Yet my blood still circulates with love. |
the view, Jaya Nadella
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Cabo San Lucas, Jaya Nadella
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pink and purple skies, Jaya Nadella
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daydreamNeeshal Gupta
Creating a story
Is just imagination. No one knows where it will go Not even the creator. It is a path of mystery That goes into the depths of your soul And heart And mind Where all the fantasy, the fiction, the love, the mystery Is born. Look where your mind is headed You don’t know what’s ahead Waiting for you To bring it to life It could be dangerous Venturing into the unknown like this Whatever is ahead, whether light Or darkness They must come together In an explosion of color and creativity Like the sunset between night and day. Unless you bring it to life, It is only imagination. Waking up on the living room couch Without a pencil and paper in hand It was only a dream. A daydream. |
blooming, Abby Lu
Liane Ma
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Kandian Sunset, Keyanna Ratnasekera
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realization of loveCharlotte Rebeyrat
Essence wasn't certain what her story was anymore. When she had met her ex Thiago, she had a feeling that he'd been her great beginning and tragic end. But then came Cadencia Diaz. Cadencia, with her snark and biting comments. She was prickly, guarded, and Essence knew she had as many, if not more, issues as she. Cadencia reminded her of herself and maybe that's why she found it so easy to dislike the fiery girl. But then she had to go and prove to Essence that she was entirely wrong about her. She was an enigma and everyone in town adored her. She was kind, listened to people, and she was funny without ever being mean. She was the type to see the darkest ends of the world in screaming color, always managing to splash colors onto people's blank canvases of their lives with her bright smile that carried pure ecstasy and happiness. In a town where everyone and everything was cookie cutter, she was everything but. Essence wasn't sure she loved her until she got off the phone with her twenty minutes ago. Cadencia, with her poetic phrases and her Rainman-like knowledge of bad 80s movies, had found a way to get through to her that no one else could ever do. Thiago may have been her great beginning and tragic end, but Cadencia? She was the whole story. And somehow, Essence was more than okay with that.
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Balanced UnbalanceCharlize Andrews
A want, not a need, rises up as mass shoves and gravity pulls. A slope created outside of self - unwittingly Charity teeters, its weight composed of compassion. Tit-for-tat, tilting lessens. Laden, shamefaced, horizontal again. Balance brought - unwillingly. Unrelenting consciences; Swaying brought by the heart that saw misfortune, Swaying that continues by the hard heart of vanity Stricken, a strike presses downward. Extracting the value, reversing the act. But the worth isn’t monetary The decline doesn’t portray debt. Yet the liability lingers Until it’s parallel. |
Sundown's Tide, Charlize Andrews
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Solace, Esha Macha
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Double Self, Esha Macha
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All Eyes Off Me, Esha Macha
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Supernova
Raycel Dizon
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i wonder what would have been
if the supernova happened that day. oh, to be loved like the dying to be embraced like it is my last to be cherished like i am temporary. i dream of a lover who takes up half my bathroom mirror and fills the room with laughter when we mistakenly use the other’s toothbrush. i dream of a lover who carries me from the car to the bed, gentle enough not to break fragile slumber. i dream up a lover who does not exist. i wonder if the sickness never passed, if the stars were only visible from room 218. would i have missed what it felt like to participate in gentle things? gentle things like braiding another women’s hair or peeling a friend’s orange or washing my sister’s hair, would i finally sink into my skin or would i have still failed to orbit, to stay awake? am i borrowing time that is not mine? |
oh, to attract like the wealthy to be perceived for what there is to offer, to live surrounded by comfort. i dream that one day people will gather around as if brilliance is present, and strangely the room is quieter than when only i inhabit it. i dream of lights that are not harsh on the eyes but are blue and calm and are not my only companions. i dream of a life that does not exist. i wonder if mortality is only something that forces us to value before the regret sets in, that if we are not careful we’ll grieve before our bones brittle and learn to love after the grave. if all things prospered forever, would we forget to cherish the quieter things? quieter things like the whistle of wind through leaves or the way her eyes curve up when she smiles or the sacrificing of time for another. would i finally listen close enough or would i have still had the universe in my ears, galaxies begging for my attention? am i paying enough mind to what doesn’t call for it? i wonder what would have been if the supernova happened that day. |
Strings, Jisha Singh
i'll always have my plants, Siri Manneri
Floral, Jisha Singh
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train stationAbby Lu
one november evening i take the train back to my district on the outskirts of new taipei city, and the sun has already set by the time i disembark.
the light of the station reflects off of the trains and it looks holographic, as if the light were a tangible thing hovering upon heavy air. there is a warmth there, too, clinging to the platform and the tracks as the train leaves, off to continue its delivery of people to their homes. i take the stairs this time, and it is nice to be reminded of my breath as i keep moving, caught in a crowd of people eager to get home after the long commute. when i step out of the back exit of the station, i am struck for a moment at how beautiful the city is. the sky is pitch black but the street is alive; the street vendors call out to passerby, the shop lights flash and blink seductively, the taxis swerve on the line of recklessness to beat another cab to the next passenger. there are people, and none of them care about me, and it is that thought that makes me smile. the light hovers here as well, and it makes the humidity almost visible. it's stuffy, but not suffocating. |
surrounding winds, Charlize Andrews
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Prejudice in Accent, Esha Macha
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Serene, Charlize Andrews
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Luma, Jisha Singh
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where the Sky meets the Sea, Shreya Ananth
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InuredCharlize Andrews
A choice to remain Within an abyss; Reasoning not reasoned with. A spasmodic spark smoldering Draws one closer Until the darkness returns. Distancing gains more distance, Yet the light’s diameter isn’t disregarded. Knowing what behooves; Denial still prevails. The switch flicks, That light hebdomadally cast, Paralyzes with charm. Dazed, enchanted. The only memories grasped seen with bright eyes; An obliterated remembrance of the void |
Putting on a Show, Esha Macha
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Octopus friends, Chelsea Pinto
Alive Open Eyeball, Vivian Lin
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surroundings, Charlize Andrews
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Daydreamer, Vivian Lin
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Silver LiningsGreen Level Literary Magazine
@gllitmag May 2023 |
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