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TERRA INCOGNITA

VOLUME II 2011

TERRA Environmental Research Center

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Terra Incognita

VOLUME II 2011

A Literary and Fine Arts Magazine

TERRA Environmental Research Institute

11005 SW 84th Street

Miami, FL 33173

(305) 412—4800

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Truth. A simple concept that is not always so simple to achieve.

Truth does not always color the words that fall from our mouths,

just as it does not always resonate with the thoughts in our head.

We would like to say that our eyes see only the truth in the world

around u, but that itself would be a lie.

We cannot always be objective in our observations, and without

objectivity there can be no truth.

The most we can do is to simply exist as the medium through

which students can express their realities, like a camera lens film-

ing only what it sees. The stories and art on these pages are the

truth in their own ways, and we are the messenger presenting

those ideas to you to perceive as you will.

Famirka Then

Editor

Terra Incognita

TERRA Environmental Research Institute

11005 SW 84th Street

Miami, FL 33173

TERRA INCOGNITA STAFF

Famirka Then

Michael Murphy

Danielle Graham

Alexis Wood

Taylor Paul

Isleydi Rodriguez

Principal: Carrie Montano

Faculty Adviser: Deanne Getreu

Colophon:

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TERRA INCOGNITA STAFF

Famirka Then

Michael Murphy

Danielle Graham

Alexis Wood

Taylor Paul

Isleydi Rodriguez

Principal: Carrie Montano

Faculty Adviser: Deanne Getreu

Colophon:

Terra Incognita Volume II was created using Microsoft Publisher on HP

Compaq computers. The staff selected the font Bauhaus 93 for the text on

the front and back cover, and Palatino for the text throughout the maga-

zine. All author and artist names appear in the font Bradley Hand ITC.

This magazine is displayed electronically and is available for download at

http://greenschool.dadeschools.net/Departments/Language_Arts/

terraincognita2010.pdf

Front and back cover art by Riley Duncan

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Table of Contents:

Peace on Earth by Natalie Calvo

Voice by Belen Caballero

In Your Heart of Hearts by Christophe Blaize

The High School Experience by Natalia Matamala

Her Prince by Michael De La Morena

Je t‖adore by Jorge E. Perdomo

Je t‖aime By Elise Alfonso

Music by Gabriela Mendez

Personalities Take Time by Raquel Koela

Message from War by Javier Liens

The lives and Times of your Kids: The Auction by Akilah Hill-Hamler

The Hunt by Anthony Vazquez

Haiku by Daniel Manyari

Nature by Christopher Estrella

Ballet by Samantha Atherly

The Viking at Stamford Bridge by Anthony Vazquez

The tale of the tiny tale b y Alex Saavedra

Friendship Poem by Andreina Hernandez

Poem by Oriana Daly

The Crows by Anthony Vasquez

Haikus by Christopher Latile and Miguel Botran

Lunchroom by Amanda Brunner

Ode to Potatoes by Daniel Vazquez

Haiku by Oriana Daly

Roses and Music by Michelle Castillo

The “I Am” Poem by Jessica Gonzalez

L'impossible by Olivia Sanchez

The Impossible by Olivia Sanchez

Excerpt from Chapter 1 of "Painting on the Canvas of the Mystery of

Melody" by Christian McCrimmon

Friends or Foes? by Kylie Alvarez

Haiku by Rebecca Gonzalez

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Group Haikus by Moriah Houwers, Jordyn Lewis, Juan Jimenez, Daniel

Hernandez

Poem by George Ibarra

Haiky by Taylor Paul and Famirka Then

Haiku by Taylor Paul and Famirka Then

Ronald Brid

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Clean up the blood

The war is won

Clear out the bodies

The battle is done

The war is over

No more wishing on

Horse shoes or 4 leaf clovers

Start the presses

Inform the crowd

No more violent messes

Scream it out loud

No more fighting

Peace is here

It‖s the time for laughing for happiness and cheer

All war has ended

All violence has stopped

All broken trusts are mended

All the accusations dropped

The world is one now

No more unfair discrimination

We‖re all united now

No more segregation

If only every one could

Put away their pride

Then scared civilians wouldn‖t have to hide

Peace on earth could

Finally be achieved

Love from everyone

Could be received

If only peace were

More then just a dream

But I‖m afraid it isn‖t

It never will

It seems….

Natalie Calvo

Pe

ace

on

Ea

rth

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Diana Angel

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Voice

I speak yet unheard.

Demeaning words drown my ears.

Then I learned to yell.

Those who sought to hurt

I bested with my bellow

Forcing them silent.

Unheard became heard

And perspectives were altered

So my song shall live.

Belen Caballero

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Reef Tyuse

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In Your Heart of Hearts

The closer you get to the light the greater your darkness becomes. As it length-ens and grows it becomes alive with an unquenchable thirst for darkness and evil. Living in a dark and black world where dark inky tendrils of dark matter snaking in and out of unknown places. This is the dark ancient people feared and avoided, it is the dark that sucks even the light deep inside you; sucked out of your soul only to be lost in the never ending emptiness. This place has no name they say so I have given it many. The abyss, the dark place, hell [with one l], the underworld, the vanishing lands, the dark plains, and the one I call it most Home….

And yet for every dark there must be a light, which also means there is a place where the dank dark evil is repelled and banished, destroyed and defeated. Where the light that was stolen is replenished and where the sun shines brightly and warmly for eternity, it is where the birds of legend fly with grace and beauty, and where light lulls you slowly to sleep with soft gentle breezes and cool smooth sounds. This place does have some names, some you know some you don‖t. The Garden of Eden, heaven, palace of the gods, the enlight-ened plains, and also home for you see your heart is to both. Beautiful good, and terrible coexist in all of us, but it is up to you to choose which one you want to be…

Christophe Blaize

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Nicole Cordoba

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The High School Experience

The bell rings at last

It‖s my favorite period

Finally, Lunch Time

The “scary” sophomores

Walking with Pride through the halls

“Step aside freshies!”

The Brand New Freshman

Looked down by Upper Classes

Waiting for next year

TERRA Senior High

Filled with great new beginnings

Above all the rest

Natalia Matamala

Nicole Cordoba

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On the balcony,

Half-torn nightgown stained with blood,

Bruises on her face.

Tears fall like stardust,

She looks beautiful in

Moonlight. Broken love.

She‖s got a love like

A hungry wolf on the prowl,

Half-dead. Ravenous.

Velvety brown eyes,

Hair like a spoon of honey,

Tips of pink fire.

She swims in remorse,

Drowning her sorrows. She

Deserves so much more.

Someone that treats her

Like some old-time princess in

A child‖s fable.

But right now her tears

Amplify the moonlight that

Falls on her sweet face.

I only hope that

She can love herself as much

As I love her now.

Her Prince

Michael De La Morena

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Je t‖adore

Je veux proclamé à Dieu

mes sentiments pour toi

Je t‖adore

Je voyage d‖ici au fin

du monde pour toi

Je t‖adore

Je travaille du matin

à nuit pour toi

Je t‖adore

Je traverse des champs pour

chercher une belle rose comme toi

Je t‖adore

Je me suis blessé quand j‖ai

le coup de foudre pour toi

Je t‖adore

Mon amour.

Jorge E. Perdomo

Translation:

I want to proclaim to God

my feelings for you

I adore you

I travel from here to the

end of the world for you

I adore you

I work from morning ―til

night for you

I adore you

I traverse the fields in search

of a beautiful rose like you

I adore you

I got hurt when I

fell in love with you

I adore you

My love.

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Je t‖adore

Je veux proclamé à Dieu

mes sentiments pour toi

Je t‖adore

Je voyage d‖ici au fin

du monde pour toi

Je t‖adore

Je travaille du matin

à nuit pour toi

Je t‖adore

Je traverse des champs pour

chercher une belle rose comme toi

Je t‖adore

Je me suis blessé quand j‖ai

le coup de foudre pour toi

Je t‖adore

Mon amour.

Jorge E. Perdomo

Je t‖aime

Tu m‖incites

chaque jour.

Mon amour,

je te donne mon cœur.

Je rêve de toi

chaque nuit

quand je dors

et quand il n‖y a pas de bruit.

Je te remercie

pour être dans ma vie

et pour être un bon ami.

Pour ces raisons, je ne vais ja-mais partir.

Elise Alfonso

Translation:

You give me butterflies

every day.

My love,

I give you my heart.

I dream of you

every night

when I sleep

and when there is no noise.

I thank you

for being in my life

and for being a good friend.

For these reasons, I will never leave

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Janie Salvatore

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Music

Singing to my soul

Beats rush past me gracefully

Leaving me speechless

Gabriela Mendez

Nicole Cordoba Janie Salvatore

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Jennifer Hidalgo

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Personalities Take Time

I guess if you could describe in one word, limiting, it would be vivid.

I almost feel stupid writing about myself.

It feels like something I would try to run from, but like a bug I am attracted to the light.

And we all have two faces.

We don‖t always want to admit to our treachery.

I‖m gonna start with my conscience because it is my skeleton.

And at many different inferences in my life I have wondered what is this?

This existence.

Don‖t get me wrong though I wouldn‖t have it any other way.

I can feel the color draining like raindrops down my neck down my body, there‖s no one else to blame but this one part of me called guilt.

And I like deep thoughts I like reading between the lines when there are no spaces for me to find,

Where the lines may overlap.

I like to play guitar and touch the keys with their melodic souls floating into my fingertips.

I will spend a lifetime trying to find love even though I know already where to look.

I tend to make things harder then they were ever meant to be.

Analyzing.

I‖ve been told I‖m confusing.

And I ―d like to believe that what I see is truth.

Because I‖ve come to far to have to start all over.

And I pray to God almighty that one day I will feel security.

That‖s all I ever needed.

I‖ve got something called a sin nature though.

And I‖ve caused my own problems many times before; I think that‖ why God sometimes leaves me to my own devices.

I‖m not forsaken, not only, just a little lost.

The irony in this all is I couldn‖t live without my problems, without my problems I would be perfect and I don‖t want to be perfect, I just want to race to perfection like everyone else.

O‖ yes I am a strange case.

Raquel Koela Jennifer Hidalgo

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Message from War

Dear Jackie Smith,

I regret to inform you this week your son has died in battle

His bunker was hit by a grenade and he got rattled,

He ran out to get away,

By misfortune this time he was hit with a grenade

…what a shame

He was a strong, courageous and heroic man.

His body is being sent back to the main land,

The coffin will honorably have a flag, it‖s a drag,

So many young men have to die in these days

In many different ways

To protect people who don‖t respect,

The intent

Of our country

The world is hungry for a change in the system

This isn‖t a schism or a mirage

Because every country is flawed.

Sincerely,

Cpt. McHenry

Javier Liens

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Emily Juliao

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Raquel Koch

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The lives and Times of your Kids: The Auction

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You ask us where we are going with our lives,

Saying days are only twenty-four hours; don‖t take a dive,

Spending hours masquerading in a world of music and rhyme,

In the land of make believe, it is always party time.

We are told that there was magic in the times of old,

But is that beauty fading as this generation unfolds?

Kids need love, trust and confidence like you were shown,

Can more loving and caring be known?

You say we chill with too many episodes of fantasy from TV;

It is our escape from reality moving toward a like of poverty.

Our hearts are laden with burdens we are bearing alone,

Mom and dad please step forward and help us make it home.

Getting in touch with our feelings is a must at this age,

We are looking for a way out but only see a distorted page.

Life is not a tale to be told for moments of amusement,

Do not mislead us and cause our energies to be misspent.

Teach us to value our time and most of all enjoy life,

Show us how to exclude people who will cause us strife.

Ladies and Gentlemen, the auction has begun; what is your bid?

Going once, going twice – sold the lives and times of your kids!

Akilah Hill-Hamler

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The Hunt

The moon is rising,

The wolf pack begins to run,

They will soon hunt.

The moon is calling,

The prey doesn‖t know to run,

Its journey ends now.

They soon sight their prey,

Then picking one from the herd,

No one hears its cries.

The hunt is over,

The pack is still hungry,

And so it begins….

Anthony Vazquez

Kaelin Martin

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Nicole Cordoba Kaelin Martin

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Leaves fall.

Suddenly, the lakes

Trap life inside themselves.

-Daniel Manyari

Chloe Castanon

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Nature

By

Christopher Estrella

Whistling Freely

The leaves swam in an air lake

Construction and noise

Scaring the leaves away

Makes nature retreat, shrinking

It down leaving leaves

With no place of their

Own, nature vanishing with

No stopping at all

Chloe Castanon

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Ballet

By

Samantha Atherly

The ballerina

Twirls ever so gracefully

Across the floor

In 5th position

She shines around the stage

With agile speed

Her Pointe shoes glide

The curtain draws to a close

The bows are given

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Isleydi Rodriguez

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The Viking at Stamford Bridge

By

Anthony Vazquez

In the month of September, ten sixty-sox, during the hours ruled over nix,

A battle was fought, over Stamford town, and a warrior rose and stood his ground.

The English were crafty, they ran all through the night, they wanted to crush, them and show off their might.

They ran all the way to the old wood ford and what they then saw shocked them to the core.

A lone soldier stood bravely, while his comrades regrouped, and an axe and a shield, not even boots.

He hacked and he slashed, not a man before him stood.

They swore vengeance against him, but none could hold good.

An army he fought, bringing down every one, getting lower and lower until there were none.

The berserker became weary, not watching where he stood, for the plank he stood over had a hole in the wood.

A cowardly creature crept under the bridge and stabbed the great Viking where no man should hit.

The soldier knelt wounded while they pressed the attack.

At last he felt the need to fall back.

The enemy surged forth, there was naught that he could do, and they cut the great warrior down where he stood.

His ploy had bought time for his comrades to fight back and bodies of the English were surely not lacked.

Though we do not know the name of the man while he loved, he will forever be known as the Viking of Stamford Bridge.

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Reef Tyuse

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Ronald Brid

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The Tale of the Tiny Tail

By

Alex Saavedra

This rat had a tiny tail

One, none like all other

Everyone would laugh and stare

Even his mother

Why wont they let me play

With all the rest?

If they put me in the game

I‖ll try to do my best

I always asked my dad

Why can‖t I have any fun?

You‖re not like them

You have a stunted tail my son

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Isleydi Rodriguez

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Friendship Poem

By

Andreina Hernandez

The way to treat me might be good or bad

But I am happy that you are the beat thing I‖ve ever had

Sure you may be angry or disappointed at me

But that makes our friendship multiply times three

I‖ll be there for you no matter what

Even if you make a fuss

We will always find a way

To help each other everyday

Until…someone walks in and makes you blind

Which causes us to leave our friendship behind

It makes me wonder if she caused this wall

That keeps you and me from standing tall

But either way, I will be there

And be with you, talking about the memories we share

You will always be my best friend

And nothing will keep us separated until the end

Isleydi Rodriguez

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Isleydi Rodriguez

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Night sky, silk hands

Climbing into warm horizons, a

Touch of sun cradling

Waking souls.

Dust rising off dormant animals

Breath of morning, as gold

Hands comb through dewdrops

She peeks into my window, wag-gling

Fingertips of light in my slanted eyes

Opening my dark mind to day.

Each moment of light is

Burned into my memory

By her golden fingertips.

- Oriana Daly

Emma Lee

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Isleydi Rodriguez

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Reef Tyuse

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The Crows

By

Anthony Vasquez

The creatures fly fast to the fields of war, drawn by the clashing and clanging of swords.

Guided by instinct, like all those before, they know they will feast on acres of gore.

The birds know naught who fights or why, yet the air fills with their harsh cries. They know from instinct, like those gone before, they know they will feast on acres of gore.

The victors victorious, the losers defeated, yet their hunger is still not abated. Yet not far away they hear the clashing of swords, tell-ing them they will feast on acres of gore.

Reef Tyuse

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There is not much that

I can say to change the way

I feel about you.

There is a monster

I hit him with some Jell-O

He became a chair.

I love my red bike

But one day everything changed

It became yellow.

I write a haiku

―Twas about you. It was great

but I lied a lot.

Sketch: Reef Tyuse

Haikus By

Christopher Latile and Miguel Botran

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Reef Tyuse

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Oscar Mendez

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Lunchroom

By

Amanda Brunner

Think or eat

That‖s pretty bad

Especially when it‖s social hour

The time to gossip

And do what they please

When really we‖re just too busy

Joking and laughing a large room full

Of tables and people

Too crowded to declare

Your own space

It‖s all a rush of gunk

The cafeteria is serving

Two people hiding secrets

It‖s all motley

All too confusing for words

It‖s like a disease

Incurable and unruly

But all it is, is a lunchroom

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Reef Tyuse

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Raquel Koch

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William Molina

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Ode to Potatoes

by

Daniel Vazquez

Potatoes, warm, fuzzy, and brown

Nothing can take it down

The crispy taste is the best

Wearing a salty and oil covered vest

Sizzling sweet sounds calling me

To that oily sea

Where they are drowning temporarily

So let then be

Sweet smelling salt

Sprinkling as they dry off

In a blinding light

Waiting to be eaten

As they‖re being packed

They‖re all wondering

Who will go first?

Who will go last?

William Molina

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Glittering gold warmth

Fingertips of sun, reaching

Far into the skies.

Oriana Daly

Ivo Smink

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Glittering gold warmth

Fingertips of sun, reaching

Far into the skies.

Oriana Daly

Ivo Smink

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Roses and Music

By Michelle Castillo

There she sits beside me, with her drawn on headphones and her ―too cool for school‖ attitude. Her quietness irks me; it‖s as if her voice isn‖t necessary, as if her mere presence could say it all. I look over. She is scribbling away on a notebook in a language that is foreign to me-- her thoughts. She seems too absorbed in her writing to notice my staring. Perhaps I am studying her, or perhaps I want to see what makes her tick. I am suddenly distracted by a voice and am forced to look away, though I observe her from the corner of my eye. I see her pick up her headphones. She evaluates the right side with a critical eye and, as if unsatisfied, makes harsh corrections with her pencil. Her thumb passes over a space and she finally smiles proudly: the rose, now completed, is a simple beauty. As I observe her I seem to become one with her. I can feel the loneliness she is feeling as she looks longingly at the empty seat in front of her. Yet I also feel that she longs to be part of something more. She doesn‖t want to be the lonely girl sitting quietly in the cor-ner of the class. She wants to smile, laugh, maybe even joke with oth-ers, as ridiculous as she thinks it is. The headphones are back on her head as she listens to music that isn‖t really there. She has now blocked out the world. The bell rings and she tiresomely picks up her belongings, plac-ing her dead iPod in her back pocket. I stall to watch her go; wisps of her clipped up hair fall in curls around her neck and her hips carry the weight of her belongings, swaying as she walks out the door. I feel a cold chill pass over me when she is gone, for I know now she will put on a happy face for the world. But only I know the truth. I know that far beyond the roses and music lays a girl who wishes for more.

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Jennifer Hidalgo

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Nicole Cordoba

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Nicole Cordoba

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Victoria Silveyra

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The “I Am” Poem

By Jessica Gonzalez

I am mostly sunny with a 20 percent chance of rain.

I am the 11:11 wish maker,

Typically naive and

At times a risk taker.

Big frame,

Sturdy enough to hold the pretty picture.

I am the third and fourth hands of my mother‖s in the kitchen.

As well as her second pair or ears when she needs someone to listen.

I am bulging puppy brown eyes,

Which can detect the truth obscured by lies.

I am like the moon, pale and mysterious.

Prior lessons have taught me not to take life too serious.

I am, I have, my own say in every decision I make,

And with each one a further step I take,

Into fulfilling the goals for which I have set.

Knowing that given time...

They will all be met.

The past I no longer mourn,

For every rose has it‖s share of thorns.

They were merely apart of life‖s lessons I have learned,

From the obstacles that have previously occurred.

What kills us only makes us stronger,

Or so I have heard.

I am open to words from the wise,

Which can range from everyday people,

To those who won the Nobel Prize.

Listening to stories of others has always been a pleasure of mine.

It‖s like learning from others who have been in your position,

Once adolescent,

But made the transition.

Into, a full grown adult, which

I am not to far from.

Victoria Silveyra

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L'impossible

Les jours ne passent pas Sans les souvenirs de mon temps avec toi

Tu me fais sentir folle Pour avoir perdu le contrôle

J'ai pensé que j'avais perdu mon amour. Maintenant, je ne suis pas sûre.

Je te regarde, et tu n'es pas seul.

Tu la regardes; elle est très drôle. Quand je la vois, mon cœur s'arrête.

Je ne suis pas bête, mais je veux t'avoir Même quand il n'y a pas d'espoir.

Au revoir! Au revoir!

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The Impossible The days don‖t pass Without the memories of my time with you. You make me feel crazy For having lost my control. I thought that I had lost my love for you But now, I am not so sure. I watch you, and you aren‖t alone. You watch her, and she‖s great. When I see her, my heart stops. I am not dumb, but I want you Even though there is no hope. Goodbye! Goodbye!

Olivia Sanchez

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Raquel Koch

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Raquel Koch

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Victoria Silveyra

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Excerpt from Chapter 1 of "Painting on the Canvas of the Mystery of Melody"

By

Christian McCrimmon

Minutes slowly ticked by as the city commenced in it's casual routine, and all seemed normal until the arrival of an unexpected foreigner, Saturn. His beauti-ful silhouette was cast in the lavender sunset of the city's outskirts, which were faintly marked by the scattered growth of feeble grasses and the hazy smog that enveloped the air. Saturn was a dynamic athlete, his step continuing at a steady velocity, his lean frame revealed muscles with every contraction his body made. Saturn's disheveled hair rustled in the light breeze, a jet black mane that danced with locks of a cerulean blue. His eyes were slate orbs that contrasted off his tanned skin, his mouth was tilted into a crooked smile, and a silver captive ring hung delicately from his septum. Although his clothing was torn and dirty, an air of confidence and sophistication encircled him. A cluster of necklaces and brace-lets adorned his body, all handmade by himself over time. The city could only watch in wonder and awe as the suspicious gypsy entered casually, searching for his only destination: his sister's home.

It's been almost two years since Saturn had visited his sister, yet the passage to her house remained a vivid image in his mind. The dingy apartment community in which his sister lived lined the street for half a mile, and Saturn's destination soon came within sight. Although his veneer reflected only a mildly contented at-titude, Saturn was ecstatic. Thoughts on the arrival to his sister's home clouded his mind, and he constantly wondered how she had been. She meant everything to him, and he worked his absolute hardest to be able to visit her. In his last visit, he had stayed for three weeks because his sister was a sickly girl, and caught a virus. Now he was ready to visit his sister, hoping for her good health.

The dirty steps to the apartment were extremely congested, just like he re-membered, cautiously placing one foot in front of the other until he reached Apartment Number 7C. Saturn approached the door, knocking slowly but loud enough to be heard. The knock echoed in his sister's room as if it were a coconut's interior. A minute slowly ticked by, and Saturn's expression swayed from con-tented to anxious. He knocked once more, this time reached for the brass door-knob afterwards, and turned it so that it only slightly creaked open. The house was as silent as a sleeping baby's nursery.

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"Melody?" Saturn called out feebly, peeking into the cluttered room. There was no answer. Instead, an eerie silence loomed. He pushed the door aside, biting his lip. The apartment was only composed of two rooms, the first room; which contained the kitchen, and the artist's room; a colourful room which was con-gested with buckets of paint, easels, brushes, canvases, artwork, and other materi-als. Saturn saw no signs of life in the apartment, and crept slowly to the artist's room. A colourful piece, the room itself was artwork. He stood in awe at the beauty, looking only up to observe the beautiful pieces which hung from the room and walls. People, places, animals, expressions... The room's artwork expanded on every possible subject, in a symbolic approach. Even delicate pieces were carefully positioned to be held strongly. However, when Saturn looked down, he saw per-haps the most fragile piece in the room; his sister's corpse lying motionless on the floor.

Isleydi Rodriguez

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Friends or Foes? By Kylie Alvarez

They‖re supposed to be the ones who always have your back Tell you the truth even if it sounds whack I thought you were the one that I could always count on But when I needed you the most, you were gone Now… you go behind my back and tell everyone lies Yet when I confront you about them, you don‖t tell me why I feel bad for you since all you care about is getting attention I know I could never trust you with my well earned pension Well guess what… do I have news for you I have real friends now and they are loyal too So thank you for setting an example of what a person should never be With a personality like yours, you‖ll always be lonely.

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Taylor Paul

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Reef Tyuse

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Nicole Cordoba

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An old silent night It seems so far for me I bid farewell

Rebecca Gonzalez

Nicole Cordoba

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Group Haikus Moriah Houwers, Jordyn Lewis, Juan Jimenez, Daniel Hernandez

Haikus are stupid,

They give me so many headaches,

What‖s the point of them.

Juan needs a haircut,

I should give it to him now,

Where are my scissors?

Victoria Silveyra

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Group Haikus Moriah Houwers, Jordyn Lewis, Juan Jimenez, Daniel Hernandez

I like poetry,

I lie about liking poetry,

Do you like poetry?

I lost my red kite,

Can you find my red kite please,

Do you have my kite.

We are being forced,

To write a random poem,

They are called haiku‖s.

Victoria Silveyra

Oscar Mendez

78

In a dark void of a world,

She provides the light,

She is the heart of the sun,

The apple of my eye,

She is the spring time,

She has eyes of the night‖s stars,

A smile of glistening pearls,

Is she an illusion?

A dream?

No,

She‖s real,

Yet unreal,

She‖s as close to perfect as possible

George Ibarra

79

Nicole Cordoba

80

The sun shines daily

It provides us all with light

Then sets every night

Taylor Paul and Famirka Then

Chloe Castanon

81

Chloe Castanon

The waves crash gently

The sailor loses his knife

Provides the fish with life

Taylor Paul and Famirka Then

82

Catalina Mellado

83

Catalina Mellado

84