Library Still Life

© 2010, Copyrights belong to the artist. HHS Student. Pencil on paper.

Sunshine & Stars Collage

© 2010, Copyrights belong to the artist. HHS Student. 3D Collage, mixed media.

Self Portrait

HHS Student, JC. Pencil on paper.

Orange Scene

©  2010, Copyrights belong to the artist, HHS Student, RA. Watercolor on paper.

Barnes and Nobility

IM

 

As drizzles turn to sprinkles and

Sprinkles turn to rain, seasoned leather boots soak slightly;

Cotton-clad-liquid-speckled fauna shelter beneath

Glass canopies as blue jeans turn half a shade bluer. 

Zephyr and water share the soli for this blustery midmorning etude;

The first movement begins; A sparse audience thins,

Leaving a synthesiac bloke who thinks

Arpeggios smell of flax

Seeds and the word myalgia tastes like a proper English

Breakfast, to weather the squall. 

Barnes and nobility

Come hand in hand, the green and white sign above him explains,

Enticing diabetics, passersby and patrons alike, akin to the

Tenured sugar-free mint after a bowl of beef flavored Phô. 

To some, the scent of sweet Seattle brew wafts in like a

Polish bacia’s cooking or that of an Ohio grandmother’s kitchen;

To others, the stench of those caffeine pips act as a gentle

Slap to the cheeks Sicilian matriarchs are known to exercise while

Remarking on one’s lack of girth and anemic complexion with the only

Remedy being a tomato coated, olive oil basted heart attack and aneurism

Combo waiting to happen that’s served on a platter that came

On the boat with (God rest his soul) prozio Paulo from the old country. 

Tangents are gone off of

And stories are told. 

An Ache

(anonymous)

It’s a feeling unlike

any other

a pain, need, want, all

in one.

It’s a burning, turning

in my core,

my heart, stomach,

down to my knees,

rising into my throat.

It rises to my eyes,

prickling, burning

there.

It escapes my throat,

my eyes,

but burns still

throughout me

an everlasting

ache

N-Euro

Bobblehead from S. Finn's class

An Ode to an Art’s Lost Value

by LY 

How contrived!

Those words you lay to rest,

Set down in blackened ink

On pages sick and ailing thick,

My heart to stomach sinks!

 The senses surely mutiny,

Perception remonstrates,

When ears are forced to listen,

Worse!

When mouth articulates!

 Articulates your foul words,

Coerced and nothing less,

So blasphemous,

Industrial,

My pulse, it does arrest!

Cheap and artificial,

(Oh!)

Sole products of your greed,

Prettied up with synonyms,

A vile, sinful creed!

 I cannot bear,

I shan’t bear more

Of your further wicked ways!

Do not you know that true craft lies

In setting truth ablaze?

I hearken back to former times,

(Now past and long been so),

When writing was an higher art

Of feeling,

Glee and woe!

Yet now, my blessed lit’rature,

Lies ‘neath your knife of fame,

By which you cut and sever,

Hack!

All imagery to shame!

Alas, my heart,

My aching soul,

‘Tis time that I admit,

The age of penning’s worth

Is gone; and yet I’ll not submit!

Still, I cherish words,

(I must!)

And still I hold them dear.

Yes, for a deftly written thing,

I’ll always have an ear!

Faculty Advisor’s Note

Because this weblog is an extension of a school-sponsored student activity, we will post all artwork, writing, poetry, photographs and other entries with only initials to preserve our students’ anonymity. All artists and writers retain their full copyrights and this weblog does not assume any rights or responsibilities for the works.

All comments are subject to review and we hope to post the most constructive feedback we receive.

We hope to see submissions from students (and teachers) at our g-mail mailbox: thinkerlitmag@gmail.com

Dear Readers

December has come so quickly upon us. Soon it will be June and we will all be raring to leave our school. But, during these months of hibernation, we are still months from that time.Winter is a time of rest for most of us, and what better to do during these chilly days than write or read a good book? I’m sure your English teacher hounds you to get reading, but why not do it during the lazy days of December and January. You’ll have ample time and won’t have to worry about cramming come the test that is sure to follow which ever novel you are enjoying.

And, if reading isn’t your forte, maybe give writing a shot. The snowy days of winter are surely inspirational for some. It doesn’t have to be long, maybe a paragraph or a stanza, whatever you have time for. And the HHS literary magazine will always be here to accept whichever piece you become fond of and are willing to share and display.

So, when you write something wonderful, which I’m sure you all will, remember to submit it to the thinker, Haverhill High’s student literary magazine for publication. This way you can share it with the school, and now, with the online world as well.

Happy Holidays, everybody!
Sincerely,
A.M., Co-editor