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A Study of Days

Annabel Kermaier


A house of bricks

Neat edges


Cracks filled with white cement

No flaws

Impervious to wolves

And winds



A house of wood



Gaps and rusty nails

Creaky, drafty


And about to catch on fire

Die For You Again

Adina Bak

I can’t stop giving everything to you,

A black hole from which I can’t escape.

Then you ask me what I would do for you.

Well I would die for you again.


You’re a toxic poison, lethal when I encounter

But nonetheless I’m addicted,

You think, “it’s okay if I drown her”

Because you know I would die for you again.


I don’t know what we’re fighting over but I know you’ve already won,

But now I must put up the fight.

I have been caged for far too long.

I need to find myself again.


Nadav Lemberger


Fireflies create something from nothing.

They create gold from air.

They create light from darkness.

They create dance from motion.

They create beauty from static.

They create life from time.


But time always moves on.

Gold cannot stay long before fading.

Light is swallowed by the darkness.

Beauty drowns in the seas of stillness.


The fireflies stop, and fade away.

Away, into the night.

Which swallows light and drowns beauty.


But they return.

They return to create gold from air again.

They return to make the sky dance with flashes of color

Flashes of beauty.

Flashes of fire.

Flashes of life.


But fire always burns brightest before it fades.

Life always dances most desperately before being ground to dust.

Because one day

The fire will not return.

It will burn so bright,

And never burn again.

It will burn so bright in the flames of its own making

That it burns itself out.

It will end.

End forever.

It will end in a blaze of glory

Greater than any other we have known

But so small.

A small blue speck burning itself to death

In the great cosmos.

The darkness that swallows light

That drowns beauty

Rami Fink.JPG

Build Me Up

Elana Felig

A brick house 

Not sturdy enough to hold them up

Bricks as red as her eyes 

She tried to be as strong as the bricks that held up their house

She tried to be stronger than him

But he proved otherwise

Without that secret room in the brick house 

She would have no strength

In simpler words, she would have nothing


Bricks as red as her cheek after his last throw

She knew that she could take no more 

She left behind that brick house

She left behind that secret room where he could not find her

She ran from the one thing that protected her 


But now you wouldn’t recognize the girl from the brick house

Because her face is not red anymore 

She’s found a new place to feel invulnerable

She did not need a room to hide from fists or words 

She found a new place 

Sturdy enough to hold herself up

A wooden house

Rami Fink 

Encyclopedia of Minds

Annabel Kermaier



defined by a curtain

thin and insubstantial

edges fluttering softly

gently lulling

billows forward

a flash of something dream-like, then gone again



infinity filled, somehow

with thought-beasts

all possibility, potential

chaotically tumbling

pushes against the boundary

spills past the curtain



long claws and teeth

sharp edges

well suited for shredding, especially curtains

maker of gaps

improbable but nonetheless there

maybe therefore



aperture, crack, flaw


overflows with insanity

route through which fantasy spills

contaminating reality

with the obscured

Rami Fink (1).jpg

Rami Fink 

An Unknown Text

Josh Kaplan


I received a text this morning.

I contemplated

should I open or not. 

I decided to open it another time. 

A week went by, then another

then I received another text from this mysterious number. 


I decided to look.

I opened it.

It was a text from a long-lost childhood friend.


He asked how I was.

I said I was good.

We chatted for a little.

Then our conversation ceased.

We have not spoken in the 5 years since.


Shirah Abrahams

One after another

The never ending possibilities

The never ending goals

The never ending steps

As I climb

As I crawl

I keep getting one step closer

I think I’m near the end, 

but then I see more steps

more goals,

more possibilities.

I stop and think...

Will I ever reach the end?

For Honor

Nadav Lemberger



Such a peculiar word.

Such a peculiar reason.

A peculiar reason to give up so much.

To give up everything.


For honor.


But this is not honor.

This is cowardice.


They say it is too early.

Too early to lose it all,

Too early to join them,

To lose it all for nothing.


For honor.


I say nothing.

There is nothing to say.


My father fought his father.

My grandfather fought his grandfather.

But why did I fight him?

Why did I lose everything to fight him?


For honor?



For fear.

For fear of going on.

Of living.

When his bullet finally sank into me,

And the black finally closed in,

I realized.

I realized I didn’t want it to end.

I didn’t want to lose.

Not for honor.

But the black was closing in,





For honor.

Lara Jacobowitz _Mossy Mystique_.jpg


Mia Hahn

She comes from the water



Reaching the shore with striking eyes of wonder

She slowly slides into the sand,

Taking smooth,

Sparkling grains into her small palm

And letting them cascade through the cracks of her fingers,

She feels the frigid water pierce her bare legs as she crouches to the ocean floor,

But she doesn’t mind,

And lets the lapping waves move onto her.

Breathing in and out, in sync with the ocean,

She is sucked back in.

She plays along with the waves,

Allowing them to take her


Then out.

A white wave develops, gripping her body

But her smile is yet to fade

When harsher and harsher waves form

The merciless ocean drags her in

Leaving her laying on the floor

And her imprints in the sand she once admired 

Are washed away by the crashing waves.

      JoJo Schachter 

     Lara Jacobowitz
Jojo Schachter.JPG

A Glass Bottle

Josh Kaplan


It was a bottle,

A bottle that would store my thoughts for eternity.

That reality was shattered.

The bottle shattered.


My soul spilled out,

My thoughts spilled out,

My enemies spilled out,

My friends spilled out,

My heart spilled out.


I thought it was just a bottle,

 I realized it was so much more.

It was the bottle,

The bottle of my life.

Lara Jacobowitz _Snow Lake_.jpg
     Lara Jacobowitz

Beauty From Pain

Rochel Leah Itzkowitz


In every instance she was stabbed in the back,

She felt a piece of her heart crack,

Her poor feelings were under attack,

And she had no idea how to bounce back. 


She felt pushed down,

Wore a perpetual frown,

Never wanting visitors around,

Her life was a ghost town. 


Her emotions readily burst from her frail heart,

For her life she wished for a fresh start,

But that was the roughest part,

Because her lack of hope yearned for her to fall apart.


One day she grew strong, a new trait,

Something far from her deep hate,

Her new persona she desired to update,

A new hairstyle will be the way to alleviate.


Annabel Kermaier

Water glittering on glass shards

A twitching windshield wiper

And crumpled aluminum

With rain pattering on it


A hand, pale and reaching

Fingers fluttering

Tendons straining

Nails ragged, used


Blink, and the hand goes limp

Slam of a car door

Tires crunch over wet leaves

Driving away


Music plays, or sirens

Quietly, like the smoke


Then nothing

When Duty Calls

Rochel Leah Itzkowitz 

Holding a rifle in my arms,

Sinking into the deep mud,

Aiming at the opposing forces,

I am fulfilling my job to protect.


Missiles lighting up the night’s sky,

Injured soldiers falling to the ground,

Blood dispersed all over the battlefield,

Nevertheless, it is my job to protect.


As the war progresses,

My bag hung on my back becomes heavier and heavier,

The mud I am submersed in becomes deeper and deeper,

My muscles ache due to my immense lassitude,

Nonetheless, it is my job to protect.


Everything stops for a moment,

My racing thoughts cease to exist,

As I hear the cries and yells from behind me,

Turning my neck,

Small children are petrified in the wake of war,

Needing my guidance.

Needing me to protect.


It then strikes me,

It is not my job to protect,

Rather, it is my responsibility to protect,

My obligation to protect,

And nothing can stand in my way.

Talia Sperber.jpg

         Talia Sperber 

Today and Tomorrow

Brooke Kohl


Today the sky is bleak



And my insides match 

My mind feels the same way

‘Today is not a good day,’

It tells me 

And I agree


Today I feel so bleak



My emotions a mess

It feels like tomorrow will never come

And even if tomorrow does come 

Will it really be better?

The weathermen say it will

But they are wrong so often 

My mind thinks that too

‘They’re wrong about tomorrow,’

It tells me

And I agree


Today my mind is messing with me 

I know it’s wrong

But I also don’t

Maybe tomorrow it won’t lie 

Maybe it and I will be one and the same 

My mind doesn’t think so 

‘Tomorrow is going to be terrible,’

It tells me 

And I agree


Today the sky is crying 

No one wants to go outside 

No one wants to move

But we have to move

Have to make today count 

But really, what is today?
There are so many todays 

So many tomorrows

So many yesterdays

What’s wrong with wasting one of them?

My mind doesn’t know 

‘Today doesn’t matter,’

It tells me

And I agree


Today will end soon

Will join the past in the past 

Tomorrow is a fresh start 

What’s here today

May be gone tomorrow

Maybe the sun will come out tomorrow

Maybe tomorrow will be better

Maybe it will be worse

But no matter what

It won’t be like today

My mind agrees

‘Tomorrow will be different,’

It tells me

And I agree

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