Minnetonka High School Issue 2: Winter 2018
MUSE Magazine 2018-19 All works featured are original contributions from Minnetonka High School students. Editors are Alice Bennett, Ethan Blomgren, Meili Gong, Gloria Lee, Mia Tabor, and Scott Sorensen. Advised by Stuart Pease. Powered by Lucidpress.
CONTENTS
Student Page Literature Maya Ballbach ............................................................................................................................... 4-6 Riley Blankenhorn ....................................................................................................................... 7-12 Annika Larson ........................................................................................................................... 13-15 Alix McNutt ..................................................................................................................................... 16 Scott Sorensen .......................................................................................................................... 17-26 Michaela Tabor ............................................................................................................................... 27 Art Riley Blankenhorn ................................................................................................................... 28-30 Ellie Copeland ........................................................................................................................... 31-33 Eleanora Papp .......................................................................................................................... 34-36 Kayla Stevenson ........................................................................................................................ 37-39 Scott Sorensen .......................................................................................................................... 40-42 Andrew Wilcox ......................................................................................................................... 43-44
Junior
Artist’s Quandary I imagine your mind Is a yellow marigold patch, Each flower budding With each new thought. I imagine you see life Through Dali’s soleful brown eyes, The warping of time, Paint dripping off the edge of the earth. But, I know that your light heart Would mix this With the eyes of Dr. Seuss, Houses popping up in the horizon Like small, colorful mushrooms. I know you, You get goosebumps At every differing opinion, opposition, And opponent offering to tease your ear Into patience. You listen like a detective
Maya Ballbach
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Who has already found you to be The murderer, victim, and butler Before you’ve even managed a handshake. You watch the world like a mouse Does a cat; Calculate the math in the music, Rather than just let it be. Trapped in your mind You constantly puzzle, And seek to understand why You can never feel free. This much I know.
Corn Look at all the corn In its never-ending loneliness. Among its thousands, Yet so individual and alone. Carving out the emptiness in Those who look. To look and see: The one who went mad, The "Ms. American cornfield" The one who is actually barley, The one who "did it" with soy He who was damaged by hail, She, rolled by a tractor, The timid, small stalks, The stalks with big britches, The ones who keep their ears low to the ground, The dreamers lookin' up at the sky, So many, Yet all so isolated All so far from each other.
Senior
Riley Blankenhorn
What The Damage Has Done. Never will I ever say the word. Nor will I say I do to you. The words are a prison. A word with such power. Power to manipulate. Never will I let it continue. I will never again say the four letter word. The word is not a word of passion or commitment. It was a word of disappointment in regret. Of restraint. It’s nothing but a word used as a drug. More addictive than any other vice. These words are cursed and dangerous. Trouble runs through my veins, I live for it as lives in me. No matter the amount of regret I have, speaking that slaughter will not be one of them. Enough mistakes, mistakes I have made with the delusion of the word. The word is a religion. The religion is not benevolent nor forgiving. Religion tore me apart. The word is not something tonight. It is a word that is a massacre of trust and unity. I will never use this word again. The word that has murdered and caused anguish. Such torture and torment. The worst punishment, to speak such evil than to hear it back. The most infamous fire is the one of that ring. The word is one of the trails. Manipulation of sacrifice, always to be but trail. Whether caught or not, the word is the cause of all pain. Never again will I speak the word of my history. The words of my pain will soon be forgotten. The prison is weak and the religion I do not believe. All will be forgotten and I will be free. Free of the burden, of the four letter word.
Nursery Rhymes Smiles, smiles Are no fun Unless they’re forced on everyone. Smiles, smiles Are no fun Unless, Your’s is a fake one! Smiles, smiles Are no fun Until yours is a broken one.
The Pessimist The pessimist The pessimist has the strongest grip Of reality We don’t worry about getting disappointed Because We know there’s disappointment The lower the expectations The safer you are We are a true secret society Cast away by the half full glass We know things no one else does Love doesn’t exist. Everyone will always have altered motives. There is no such thing as honesty. Trust no one, Because you will be disappointed & betrayed. Happiness, Trust, Hope, Is vulnerability. The pessimist Knows better than to get their hopes up. Negative Is it something to not possess? How is it that negativity is seen as useless? Reality is not determined by your mindset, Reality is random order of events. Negativity. Negativity does not mean to hate everything. It simply means to be aware of the possible, Negative outcomes. We believe in honesty. Life is lies, Better to be aware, Then in a fantasy A utopia.
A Foolish Wit. Once shame on you Twice shame on me Three times shame on me Four times shame on me... Thus the rhythm of chains It begins & passed the point of no return Each time your hope is chipped Although each time you get them up again And the noose begins to resurrect Each time you get disrespected Stupidity swarms your head The foil tightens Self hatred appears Then to be fogged by the next time. Once again to see the light when the mercy ends The spark is once ignited & melted to an unbreakable bond The time may last but it will die It can be reborn But once rose from the rust it will never be the same. Rust & red Beauty turns to decay Lacking its allure Each piece starts with shine Presently blood stained links Distract from the dangerous mess Sharp to the touch & to the eye. Selected by bare hands Apathy to the blood of that could be shed Gentle but reckless Disappointment with the found safety Lack of consequences for innocent actions Eyes that have lost their purity then Begins to release the fine iron Like whispers in my head The light engulfs the tightening cuffs Forcing its way to be felt Felt to the marrow Once again I remain proven moronic
Annika Larson
Roses The cities were burning But we didn't care. My arms were wings, my fingers feathers My hair under a silken scarf My heart under the veil of ignorance The motor was music. We only saw spring. Our eyes blind to everything but the Roses The sun a pregnant woman in hell The horizon looked like it was on fire Because it was But we only saw the Roses The car was our cage. Nobody could touch us here. Until I saw him. Time stopped The world turned grey His face covered in soot. His neck was laced in a garland of burns He was naked The clouds were sulfur. There were no roses There was only him sitting on the bank. Until the world started, time continued And we kept driving.
Annika Larsen
Fingernails Some bite you Some paint you Some don’t need you Some can’t live without you You make the music of nightmares But the sensation of dreams You peel up stickers You smooth out creases You are the tool of toddlers The toy of lovers You rip through the skin of plagued You soothe the scientists It may seem weird to write about you but if John Keats can Write an ode to a lock of hair, I can write about God damn fingernails. Thank you for your time
Freshman
Alix McNutt
The Climbing Girl Her shoulder length blonde hair started sticking to her neck as she grasped on to each colorful hold. Her legs started to become shaky as she pushed up to grab a large blue hold just out of her reach. Her arms ached as she strained to grab the lip of the jug. Her blue eyes shone with determination as she reached. It was just inches away. She looked down at the other climbers as they struggled up the wall, and at her friends standing off to the side - anticipation painted on their faces. She looked back up at the blue jug that would lead her to victory. Her eyes narrowed and she crouched down but heard someone yell, “No! Don’t give up! Keep going!” Various shouts of approval followed. She jumped. She didn’t think she had jumped high enough and her heart clenched, but her fingers found the large dip and locked on so tight her knuckles turned white. She pulled herself up and touched the ceiling. A shout of victory erupted from her mouth and the crowd below her cheered.
Sky Blue We look out the window, Less leaning against the other Than falling into Each other I watch a smile Steal across your face Your eyelashes tickle my Cheeks as you look up at me “What’s your favorite color?” You ask to fill the silence Because we are both drained of words Well my favorite shade Of spirit is you, obviously, And my favorite shade of being Is being here with you Or maybe that doesn’t count How about the color that’s Spreading through me like Ink in water, Love? Is that a color? Not quite. It’s okay, we’ll invent a new one We can dive to the bottom of the ocean To find a deep enough blue, And add diamonds To get the sparkle right I’d snag a pillow To mix in how many dreams I’m living right now Or maybe not You see I could capture the stars To make it, but it Still wouldn’t be bright enough Maybe we can just swirl Every hue of emotion I feel For you right now To create the most beautiful One we’ve ever seen Because if moments were colors Then this one is my Favorite “I don’t know, how about you?” I say, because I Could fill novels with this Favorite color I’m mixing “The sky right now.” You say simply, pointing to the deep blue You lean further into me, And I decide, “Yeah, that’s a good one too.”
Scott Sorensen
Band-Aids My hand doesn’t fit in yours Anymore Your fingers always were longer, I would tease They wrapped around My hands and planted themselves Like tree roots You said you’d never let go, That we’d grow like the mighty oak And blossom into the sky But one day you pulled yourself up from the earth And left Your roots were torn away from me They had pierced deep but don’t worry, I have band-aids Sadly, though, Band-aids can’t stop the flow Of tears It’s not that I’m still bleeding, Just that the scars show The empty spaces Where you should be In the end they will fill, Deep gashes turning to Slight pinpricks But although these scars may fade My skin will never be smooth again First I needed you, Then I wanted you Now, I just Miss you
They Told Me They told me To make new memories To our songs They told me it would take the Sting out of every note If those chords were re-struck To a cheerier tune They said if I forgot you, Let your tear stained page dry And then burned it, The words couldn’t Hurt me anymore If I snipped you out Of my photo album then your eyes Would no longer make mine Fill with tears They told me to walk away, To drench these memories In gasoline and light a match, Watch my days with you Burn away to ashes, Our bittersweet chronicles Devoured by flames But I will not. You see, We do not hate the sun Because night’s veil eventually swallows it No, we raise our candles To the ball of fire and capture its warmth. When stranded in the dead of night I will not blow out my measly wick I will hold onto every beam Of that flickering flame, Even when the dripping wax Burns my hands It may sting, but it Lights my way, A bitter flame Glittering through a pitch black night Our love may have slipped Below the horizon, But I still have a candle to Remember it by, And I will hold onto this final shining light Even if it chars me to my core So may our old songs always Pluck my heartstrings Otherwise my soul would be Silent It is better To have a heart full of longing Than one full of Nothing
Ringing You weren’t the sweetest note My guitar will ever strum But you were the one That drove out the silence Maybe that’s why it Keeps ringing You won’t be the one Who made my heart race the fastest, But you were the one Who showed me it could beat I didn’t fall in love with you, I fell in love with love And when you left, I didn’t just lose you It was love itself Marching away from me So I scrambled To give my heart To someone new I needed somebody, anybody To fill me with music again Because I didn’t want to go mute In the silence I had to make the guitar play, I didn’t care which note As long as it stopped the Silence
Wonderland Love is a snowstorm That never seems to fall enough To stick around It’s enough to taste, but So quick to melt away on your Tongue It may be a wonderland now but Don’t worry, the harsh daylight Should burn it off. Let's forget that. Hold my hand and we’ll Skate on through these streets I’ll twirl you in circles As magic swirls down From the heavens We’ll lie down on this Blanket of dreams and watch The stars shoot through the sky Forget the frozen wind These shining stars will keep us Warm Lose yourself in the glow Of the night as The streetlights draw A halo around your head We’ll build a snowman And call him Love He may melt in the morn But until dawn He is the greatest thing We’ve ever known I’ll bring you in close And sing you songs Under the freezing night sky But just as the snow melts My voice will die out. In the cruel, burning daylight I want you to remember one thing. After the sun comes up, Whatever the light sees Will never melt our Wonderland
Michaela Tabor
Silence You hated silence The way it bored into your skull like a worm Laid on your skin like a poison It seeped into your blood and paralyzed your brain Like an unrequited declaration of love hangs in the air Waiting to be collected You begged for something to fill the void Hated the way every rustle and creak was magnified like thunder Hated how my heartbeat drowned out all your thoughts The silence deafening and empty I loved silence Drank it in through every pore Indulging in the blanket of softly quiet comfort Loved the way it elicited emotions no conversation could It was the only time I could ever hear myself Every rustle of my skin Creak of my bones Rushing of air in my lungs My thoughts were music and your heartbeat was a drum In the symphony of reticence The silence deafening and rich
Ellie Copeland
Eleanora Papp
Sophomore
Kayla Stevenson
Andrew Wilcox
THANK YOU to everyone who submitted to MUSE Magazine! Please contact us at tonkawritingcenter@gmail.com with questions, comments, or suggestions. Those interested in helping create future editions of MUSE are also encouraged to reach out.
