Mosaic

A Student Anthology of Verbal and Visual Art

2013
Boylan Catholic High School
4000 St. Francis Dr.
Rockford, IL 61103
Mosaic 2
Tick tock, tick tock,
The clock keeps running.
Tick tock, tick tock,
Wake up tired, but youve slept eight hours
Tick tock tick tock
Planning for test, and organizing the thoughts in my head
Buzzing like bees, but it never ends.
Homework and tests keep rolling on through
But you tell yourself that As dont earn themselves
Keep moving!
Tick tock tick tock, the clock keeps running
Wheres the time gone?
College? Arent I still a freshman?
Tick tock tick tock
Facebooks calling, along with your TV and summer
Hang up! Theres no time. Your ACT is next week
Tick tock tick tock
20 minute gone. Plan, organize, and keep moving
Tick tock tick tock
Fatigued and sore but you keep on going
Tock tock tick tock
STOP.
Breathe in the quiet black silence
No thoughts, no words, simplicity.
Just rest.
But then...
Tick tock, tick tock, the clock keeps moving.
Emilia Hickey 2014
Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest
First Place
The Clock Keeps Moving
Time Flies
Bailey Sullivan 2015
Blistering snow suited well his cold heart
Vague lights guiding her home warned her dull shirt
They were two sets of bones that fell apart
He wrote her heart and fell on bloody shins
She vowed never again and broke his trust
The carpet now crimson smelled of her life
Her veins forever more an icy frost
Green eyes not waving with fresh lovely life
He thrashed awake screaming for her lifes sake
By his side, her long lashes held his gaze
Sighs of relief lled the air, shes awake
He cried, his mind a terrifying maze.
Lips sobbed an unfamiliar amen
She said, Didnt I vow never again?
Sleeping Sickness
Bella Fortin 2015
Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest
Finalist
Claustrophobic
Ana Maria Gavranovic 2013
Mosaic 4
The melting sun sang a song that drained the heat that drained the breaths of those that didnt
watch, but would have, and would have acted if they had known. The waves directed the sun
through the harmony of the day. Her body was a ash, a blur that blended with the sand. A strained
splash, her head bobbed in the water like a boat in storm. Then, it sank; like ies to esh, the water
engulfed her body, encompassed her being. The leaf swirled to the right, to the left right left, and
rested on the earth, only a hum in the endless tree of song.
Song of the Day
Jeremiah Zuba 2013
Heights
Samantha Erdmier 2013
Untitled
Anna Girgenti 2014
Surreal
Andrea Carlson 2015
Now You See Them...
Ben Satterlee 2016
My contact out in one eye
My open case, grimy and stained
From seen lie.
My teeth, all color changed
Carry a different hue from open mouth.
They speak only words of the blamed.
From desert hills, all headed south.
Down to ridges and creases of tattered clothes.
Off. No more sins from a silent mouth.
Torn shoes leave nothing more to expose
Gravest woes come from stomachs pit
Without the light, I begin to doze.
Among crevices and corners and tiny slits
is where I begin to feel the grit.
Terza Rima
Luis Vargas 2013
Mosaic 6
A heavy fall day, oppressing as summer,
The sun so hot it could curdle dairy
In less than an hour, one short, short hour,
Out in the sun, amongst corn and three friends,
Four girls unknowing, bright faces shining,
Silly in the heat of the day.
Sandaled and sneakered, ready to roll,
So different from each other we went out together
Posed in a moment of bright, fall happiness,
Four goofs play around on a pumpkin patch stool
Meant for children, not teens, but what did it matter?
On a bright fall day with the corn and the dairy.
A playful vacation of jesters and fools
Three stooges and I, so unaware
Blissful, gleeful, delightful dopes.
Ignorant children happy and free,
So clearly carefree amongst corn and dairy,
The three stooges and I, me, the fool.
The corn for Thanksgiving with turkey and butter
Always better remembered than memory truth.
But the dairy, it curdled, in the heavy dense air
No new milk for me, poor fool of the four,
Whose stomach turns sour in sorrow and loss,
For the departure of sages from the corn and the dairy.
KT Francisco 2014
Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest
Finalist
Lactose Intolerant
Seek the Frog
Wendy Flores 2016
Untitled Self
Clare Tobin 2015
Its a nice day in Boston
Joy is in the air
They go to see them nish
But they are unaware. (Bryan Pearse)
This sunny day in Boston
Will slowly turn awry
While running in a marathon
Nobody expected to die. (Danika Hateld)
The air was lled with excitement
Finish line in open light
Racing with anticipation
No one saw any danger in sight. (Claire Nielsen)
Not a single person saw the tragedy coming.
On a day that had marathon runners ignited
Unaware that they would soon be humbled
By a bomb that made their town united.
(Morgan Witt)
We thought it was a normal day
But suddenly things would change
Unexpectedly there was a loud BOOM
Everyone in total shock throughout the range.
(Michaela Garza)
What we thought was just a simple race
Soon turned into grave pain
Recalling the destruction done
It truly was insane. (Danny Gorman)
The nish line is so close now.
As Im catching my breath,
I see my children waving at me
Before their sudden deaths. (Andrea Valerio)
I see the line to end the race
I know Ive made it far
But somethings wrong at the nish line
Someones in a getaway car. (Sarah Morrissey)
The sun shining up above
The nish line in view
The winners passing through the line
Bomb went off, we saw the unlucky few.
(Spencer Solon)
Standing at the nish line
Then the world takes a breath
We hear a loud explosion near
Our hearts sink with fear. (Brendan Shumaker)
I can see the runners coming
Sweat dripping down their faces
The audience cheers them on
Then theyre frozen in place. (Reilly Symonds)
The race is coming to an end
I can see the line
Boom, boom how did I get down here?
I dont think I will be ne. (Corina Roy)
A few more steps, Im almost done
I cross the line but with a cough
Going to the medical tent
I hear the screams and the bombs go off.
(Mikey Rodriguez)
I made a long trip to Boston
I wanted to run so fast
Had I run a minute quicker,
Id have survived the blast. (Cassidy Foley)
After crossing the nish line
Thinking it was all done
I had no more worries in mind
Until someone yelled, RUN. (Claire Kosek)
They ran through streets of smoke and re
Then found the wounded screaming
Can this day get any worse?
I just wish that I were dreaming.
(Luke Bergstrom)
Run, run, run as fast as you can.
Piercing noise hit the land.
People screamed, Whats happening?
Is it contraband? (Gustavo Zuninga)
The Ballad of the Boston Marathon
American Lit 3rd Hour with Mrs. Davies
Mosaic 8
And the crowd was in an uproar.
All their faces sank.
Horried expressions arose
Their faces went white, then blank.
(Josh Reichardt)
Two men had planted bombs in Boston
Runners expecting praise and applause
No one had claimed a trophy
And no one had distrust of the law.
(Raymon Sigala)
They are never coming back
Nothing will ever be the same
The bombers have no heart
But now they have all the fame. (Katie Williams)
Look beyond the veil of evil
Many helped, many prayed
Good will outshone the evil act
On that one tragic day. (Nichole Kennedy)
It was a day that people will remember
From the terror of that day
As it brought the country together
And united us along the way. (Adam LaMarca)
Tragedy dened the marathon
The news ooded with suspects
Fellow Americans began to pay
The tearful last respects. (Tom Sankaran)
Still I wake at night, screaming
I had seen those two men
Weaving past as I had a stretch
Those murderous men. (Katie Grubb)
Bows
Kayla Rippon 2013
Her little boy speaks aloud,
Mommy, is Daddy soon coming in?
Weve been waiting here all day long
For him to cross the line and win.
My feet are getting sore.
I almost want to leave,
But I guess itll all be worth it
For what Daddy will achieve.
Her daughter lets out a shriek
As she runs around to play.
Never knowing what would happen
Later that awful day.
The family of three waits at the line
For their spouse and father to cross,
Here in the town of Boston,
But in the end, everyone lost.
Her daughter turned to ask,
When will Daddy come?
But the nthe world went up in smoke and ame,
The streets resonating with the hum.
She screamed out for her children
While her daughter just plain screamed.
Her son would never scream again
The bombs his life had reamed.
Daddy rounded the corner
Expecting his familys cheers
Instead he saw the chaos
And a whole nations tears.
Jane Horvat 2014
Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest
Finalist
Patriots Day
Mudras
Kelsey Gugliuzza 2013
Mosaic 10
Nest of Eagles
Megan Peterson 2016
Self Portrait
Aryanna Gelao 2015
Bang, Boom, Bam
The Jet lifts off the runway
Hes got his mission
Bang, Boom, Bam
He has no time to stray
He must y over the seas
Hes got his mission
Bang, Boom, Bam
He sees land not far away
The factory is in the trees
Hes got his mission
Bang, Boom, Bam
The people are going about their merry way
This is against what I believe
He forgot his mission.
Bombs
Eric Gendron 2013
Untitled
Emily Gibson 2016
Mosaic 12
Fleurs
Breanna Stutsman 2015
Money
Elizabeth Hilby 2013
As he looked down at his old baby grand,
It made the old man think of his lost love.
Oh, how she used to play so with her hands!
I see her play the same way from above.
They played together time and time again,
All those sweet memories have made him cry.
Throughout their lives, nothing short of best friends,
He simply did not want to say goodbye.
He played their songs; theyd helped him through tough times,
And talked to relatives to help him cope.
The songs that once were ours are now just mine,
But still, my lifes full of nothing but hope.
I know that Ill see her again someday,
Just like the fateful day we met in May.
Max Cichock 2016
Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest
Finalist
The Old Pianist
Mix Tapes
Alex Newton 2014
Mosaic 14
Looking bottom up,
Right is left and left is right
Nose forward, blood center, owing through its lines
Following paths through and around
The gray matter soil of the brain.
Notice the bat wings and stumpy legs
Made of black blood.
The gray and black of the nose forming an alien head.
Three year old scan
The clot is a blot is a blackberry
We joked
There was a squirrel in there
thats why Im so nutty
We found
A wrongness. A Right wrongness.
Cloistered blood that isnt meant to be
And isnt meant to leave. Its balloon.
With an alien guarding
The precious gray matter
Of whom shall I be afraid?
Looking Bottom Up
Ana Weickert 2014
Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest
Finalist
Bearly Watching
Andrea Sotelo 2015
not a cloud in the sky, and i
worry, worry, worry.
my mind crunches like old gears;
the tousled May owers
do nothing
to calm me.
im condemned to a fate
of cold tea
and nostalgia.
Excerpt
Christine White 2013
Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest
Finalist
You realize somethings different.
Theyre happier than usual.
Theyre smiling more.
Theyre hugging more.
You can still see the difference in their eyes.
You can see the pain.
You know what is going on inside.
You dont want to admit it.
You get them alone.
They continue to smile.
You ask them whats wrong.
They change before your eyes.
From one second to the next
Their smile turns into a frown.
You open your arms.
They jump right in.
They crying never stops.
You feel helpless because there is nothing you can do.
You hug each other tighter.
You begin to cry too.
You whisper in their ear It will be ok.
They pull back and look at you.
They arent crying anymore.
You can see the hope in their eyes.
You both nod and walk away.
You see them again.
They act like nothing happened.
Theyre still smiling.
Theyre hugging.
They act like theyre happy and ok.
Outside they wear a mask.
But inside they hide the truth.
You never know the full story.
So stop thinking that you do.
Bethany Nelson 2016
Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest
Finalist
The Mask
Jars
Dana Dray 2013
Mosaic 16
Suit and Tie Guy
Joey Pritz 2015
Daydreams
Bailey Frisch 2013
Bright white light blinds passersby
Tires squeal and slide on slick concrete
Mouth opens wide in silent cry
Knuckles gripped tight, body stiff in seat
Windshield wipers slap side to side
Furiously pushing away the cold, driving sleet.
Hand honks horn, eyes open wide
The world spins out of control
As the car starts to slide
Hands on wheel lose their hold
Metal and glass y dangerously near
Where one little girl dances in the cold
She looks up in the screeching skid but stands frozen in fear
In the beam of the headlight, no time to interfere.
Uncontrollable Fate
Emily Schnoor 2013
Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest
Finalist
Untitled
KT Francisco 2014
Mosaic 18
She stepped out against the cold
wind that had come to meet her.
The chill grabbed her and
pulled her soul out to meet him.
Her face was slowly sinking.
Wasting.
Wasting as her heart was never
called upon.
She held his hand, but
the other was clenched
around her wrist.
Held herself together, but
her ngers were slipping.
Casey Mullen 2013
The Chill
Clutch
Alyssa Steinhagen 2013
Lioness
Alena Eitenmiller 2013
You are the only thing I have left:
sweet sound of which I am afraid.
you put words to my anguish,
breathe air into my lungs and
warmth into my heart.
your rhythms pump beats
your bass, your treble
each one catapults like a skydiver
rips open my eyes and screams
obscenities at my sorrow.
when the world has left me broken,
you, sweet music, cloud my mind
with visions of happiness.
cowering among the blankets,
we sit among the darkness
and let shadows and songs
rule our hearts.
Ode to Music
Alyssa Noonen 2015
Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest
Finalist
Van Goghs Bedroom at Arles
Katelin Fuenty 2013
Mosaic 20
No one ever thinks
about me
or thinks about the option
of me ever being more
than just that girl
who sits in the back
with her hair down
and the lipstick on,
looking pretty but
not pretty enough.
No one ever thinks
About me
or about the fact
that just because
my heart beats softly,
It still needs
someone to come close
enough to listen.
No one ever thinks
about me
or about the way
I try so hard to
cross your mind
even once,
because youve been on mine
since the moment I saw your smile
light up the world and everyone on it.
No one ever thinks
about me
or about the beating heart
Im leaving in your hands
because its not even worth a
second glance, let alone a
conversation able to uphold
anything more than
a happy hello and a painful goodbye.
No one ever thinks
about me
or considers me
because I am me
and
thats never good enough
for anyone else.
Emily Godin 2016
Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest
Finalist
The impressive art of blending
Hobbit Hole
Monica Skryzpczak 2014
Wannabe Princess Syndrome (WPS)
This serious disease occurs when there are dangerously high levels of princesstrogen in the
right side of a persons brain; this disease is the epitome of letting your imagination take over your
life. In extreme cases, the disease can become life-threatening and should be diagnosed as soon as
possible so that medical treatment can begin before things get seriously out of hand.
Patients: WPS affects mainly women, but in some cases it can affect men as well. It generally de-
velops between the ages of 15 and 40 but has been seen in people as young as 13 and as old as 52.
Research has shown that of every 100 patients of WPS, 92 percent of the patients are women and
eight percent are men.
Symptoms: Symptoms of WPS vary widely from case to case, however they all have a similar
themethe attempt to lead a life that is like that of a fairy tale princess. The patient may buy a
spinning wheel so as to practice pricking his/her own nger on it and falling dramatically to the
ground as if dead. They may only eat apples or show particular interest in nding families of seven
little people to live with. They may try singing to animals or even invite animals into their homes
to help them clean up the house. They may have an issue keeping both of their shoes on, and
when they do lose a shoe, they just leave it hoping that someone will pick it up and wisk them off
to a castle. Patients may attempt to grow their hair long enough so that it reaches the ground from
the upper story of their house. They may kiss frogs. Some have gone so far as to order twenty mat-
tresses and put a pea on the bottom one and try to sleep like that. In extreme cases, patients have
been known to lock themselves up in towers and refuse to leave until rescued by a knight in shining
armor. In the most serious cases, some have eaten poisoned apples with the impression that true
loves kiss will save them from death.
Diagnosis: Diagnosis for this disease cannot occur until after the age of 13 because children below
this age often allow their imaginations to run wild. However after this age, if symptoms above get
worse or continue, it is best to consult a physician. Before a diagnosis can be made, a series of tests
must be taken. This includes a spoken test with a series of questions about how the patient feels
about certain things like wearing tiaras in public and whether or not animals can talk. Each answer
is recorded and then scored on a 1 to 10 scale. The answer to the following question received a 10
(This is an actual answer given by a person suffering from a serious case of WPS):
Question: Is it possible for animals to help with chores?
Answer: Of course it is! What would make anyone ask a silly question like that? They can do
all sorts of things: the birds can put away lightweight objects, the squirrels are great at doing
laundry, and the mice are the best at sewing and other craft-related chores! They help me
almost every day.
The higher the end score, the more likely the patient is aficted with this serious disease. If the end
score exceeds 45, it is highly suggested by 97 percent of doctors that a brain scan is performed on
the patient. This is the best way to tell exactly whether or not a person is suffering from this dis-
ease. If they are aficted, a recently discovered hormone known as princesstrogen will be highly
prominent in the right side of the brain. High levels of princesstrogen cause the aficted area to give
off a pink sparkly almost glow, and lead to the previously listed symptoms.
Mosaic 22
Treatment: Once it is determined by doctors that a patient is suffering from WPS, most are able
to receive treatment at home as long as there is a responsible person present to ensure treatment
takes place, since it is generally disliked by patients. In very extreme cases, treatment must take
place at a hospital because the patient may be a danger to themselves until they have undergone
several weeks of treatment.
Treating this disease is quite simple. There are two parts to the treatment: the patient must
watch horror lms and documentaries and read biographies and autobiographies, and the patient
must take daily doses of Realatrin as prescribed by his or her physician.
WPS is not a condition to be taken lightly and should therefore be treated as soon as possible
because it can be potentially life threatening. If you suspect that you or a loved one is suffering
from WPS, set up an appointment with your local physician immediately.
Lauren Hagedorn 2014
Robert Collins Creative Writing Award
Recipient
The Forest
Emma Fredrickson 2015
Its routine the questions she asks
Every week its the same,
Every ve minutes sometimes ten
Shell smile and ask the same questions again simply because
She cannot remember
The weather, the date, my age, my grade
Its routine because she cannot remember
I smile sadly and answer each time each answer always the same
Again and again she will ask me, simply because
She cannot remember.
While it pains me to answer Im grateful as I leave simply because
She can remember my name.
Because she cannot remember
Hannah Massari 2015
Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest
Finalist
Mountains Away
Paige Bauling 2013
Mosaic 24
Doll Face
Jada Hauser 2013
Chimpeyes
Madeline Nelson 2015
Levels of Security
Megan Coady 2016
City Living
Sandra Vaughn 2013
Mosaic 26
When helpless hands scream in the silence of your soul
Your manic mouth rips at the seal
Barred by the shackles of sorrow that make
Your bones vibrate to the beat of the rain,
Drenched with the chill of the dark.
When your ears burst in ice, numb and void of thought,
your mind gently sinks
off a cliff.
Floating at rst, almost ying until there is
Nothing
But the dagger-dug rocks of your memory.
You gasp and plead.
Your hands snag on the barbed wire fence of pity
While your stomach, skips a breath.
The sky is jagged and the ground is grey.
Your feet toss themselves high, lost in the rocks they call sky.
A ghost in the light,
Aimlessly walking while
Your cuts begin to callus.
Your breath questions why your heart grows rough,
Until glazed eyes forget the feeling of a silk soul.
Somewhere along the string of solitude, your world ipped
downside up, quietly watching your limp body ooze life on the clouds.
Sometimes your hands hear the gentle screams of your heart
Helpless hands lost
amidst the rocks inside your soul.
Helpless Hands
Jeremiah Zuba 2013
Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest
Finalist
Enzo
Spencer Giardini 2013
Untitled
Alysia Alfano 2015
Mosaic 28
He enlists during his junior year
He feels he has nothing to fear
packs his bag and heads for war
he is a part of the United States Marine Corps
His family weeps and cries
praying he comes home alive
his classmates wish him luck
then he suits up and puts on his ruck
This is the story of a soldier
putting his life on the line for yours and mine
there are only a few of his kind
searching within themselves for something to nd
He steps on the battleeld ready to ght
bullets whizzing by he sees no light
hes hit in the chest and falls to the ground
the sergeant screams, Man down!
Hes layed up against a rock
out of bandages, they use a sock
thinking of his family he begins to cry
in pain and coughing, the soldier starts to die
This is the story of a soldier
putting his life on the line for yours and mine
There are only a few of his kind
searching within themselves for something to nd
His eyes begin to close
he exhales and his heart slows
he bleeds his last drop
the medic feels his heart stop
A knock on the door bring sorrow
for the soldier, there will be no tomorrow
he died so you and I can be free
the price for freedom is a large fee
A soldier story
Graham Alt 2015
Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest
Finalist
One Direction
Cassie Stear 2016
Legos building my childhood
A piece or two getting lost along the way
Now all are lost
I nd them from time to time
In old books and toys
Legos
Britton Sievert 2013
Hands Dancing
Maddy Walters 2015
Nutella
Brittany Micho 2016
Mosaic 30
The dancer cries,
the script rips,
the boy lies,
the girl trips,
the lights shine,
the line slips,
this love of mine,
is far from true,
the song divine,
ows from you,
the teacher sighs,
the stage turns blue,
into your eyes,
my spirit ies
Rehearsal
Maggie Priola 2013
Classical
Melanie Thimms 2015
Split Personality
Jennifer Peters 2014
Helen Salamone Cuppini 36
Memorial Scholarship
Artist 2013-2014
Just Because I Stop...
Just because I stop
Doesnt mean Im done
Doesnt mean Ive stopped caring
Doesnt mean Im a failure
Just because I stop
Only means Ive given all I can give
Helps me to start again
Tells me when I cant go anymore
Just because I stop
Doesnt mean I quit
Doesnt mean Im weak
Doesnt mean I stand alone
Just because I stopdoesnt mean Ive given up on success.
Fernard Harris 2016
Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest
Finalist
Untitled
Karolyn Erickson 2014
Mosaic 32
Hidden Beauty
Samantha Bretl 2013
Untitled
Marian Reyes 2014
Phillip was a handsome man.
A lot more handsome than me.
He trotted around town on his white stallion,
impressing everyone with his pricey clothes,
clean bleach-blond hair,
white smile,
and massive arms.
Behind him, the stallion pulled a ship-sized wagon
containing hundreds of polished woodworks that he planned to sell.
He greeted the townsfolk,
muscles moving more with every word he spoke.
My belly bounced as I bowled over onto my cushion seat at the front of my house.
I downed my sixth drink for the morning.
The sun had just risen.
He trotted by me,
laughing with his chest perked up,
wagon following behind.
He stopped,
looked at me and my stained shirt,
laughed,
and pulled out a night crawler from his pocket.
He dangled it in front of his mouth for a bit,
and in one swift swig,
swallowed the worm straight down his throat.
I puked.
He laughed,
and continued on his path.
Nolan Alt 2013
Fine Arts Fair Poetry Contest
Runner Up
Early Bird
Fleeting Finch
Sadey Jumapao 2014
Mosaic 34
Contributing Staff
Art Department
English Department
Acknowledgements
Mrs. Tabatha Dougherty
Mrs. Rebecca Pelley
Mrs. Carol Davies
Mrs. Breja Fink (Designer)
Mr. Tom Herrmann
Mr. Chris Mueller
Mrs. Barb Olsen
Ms. Jessica Olsen
Mrs. Nicole Ronan
Mrs. Tricia Rozanski
Mrs. Karyn Wilson
Mrs. Penny Yurkew
In Memoriam
Mrs. Vicki Sleger
Father Paul Lipinski
Mr. Jerry Kerrigan
Mr. Dennis Hiemenz
Mrs. Mary Gavan
Mrs. Lynn McConville
Friends of the Fine Arts Booster Club
Mrs. Lil Marx
Ideal Printing
Mr. John Schmit