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When I was 8 years old, my family went on a summer vacation to a small town about an hour north of New York City called Central Valley. One night we went downtown for ice cream at the drugstore and were surprised to find the streets empty. When we walked to the firehouse, we saw the dispatcher sitting outside on a chair that was leaning against the building. “Where is everyone?” I asked. “Over at the Joneses,” he replied, indicating a house with a tilt of his head. “They just got one of them new television sets. Whole town’s watching Milton Berle.” The idea of an empty town sparked my imagination, so I wrote an article about it and submitted it to the community newspaper. How thrilled I was when the story appeared on the front page! Imagine, then, how thrilled I am years later to be able to make it possible for other students to be published. I hope you enjoy seeing your words (and art) in print as much as I did. And still do. — LEAH S. DUNAIEF A message from the publisher ©133737 A. Craig Purcell ~ Anthony W. Mercep ~ Timothy B. Glynn Martin F. Simon ~ Scott MacLagan, of Counsel “Congratulations On Your Creativity” North Country Road, Post Office Box 712, Stony Brook, New York 11790 • 631.751.5757 Glynn Mercep AND Purcell, LLP LAWYERS BY LYDIA HSIEH-BEATTY MINNESAUKE ELEMENTARY SCHOOL GRADE 6 Special 2015 pullout section

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Page 1: Pens & Pencils 2015

When I was 8 years old, my family went on a summer vacation to a small town about an hour north of New York City called Central Valley.

One night we went downtown for ice cream at the drugstore and were surprised to find the streets empty. When we walked to the firehouse, we saw the dispatcher sitting outside on a chair that was leaning against the building.

“Where is everyone?” I asked.

“Over at the Joneses,” he replied, indicating a house with a tilt of his head. “They just got one of them new television sets. Whole town’s watching Milton Berle.”

The idea of an empty town sparked my imagination, so I wrote an article about it and submitted it to the community newspaper.

How thrilled I was when the story appeared on the front page!

Imagine, then, how thrilled I am years later to be able to make it possible for other students to be published. I hope you enjoy seeing your words (and art) in print as much as I did. And still do.

— LEAH S. DUNAIEF

A message from the publisher

©13

3737

A. Craig Purcell ~ Anthony W. Mercep ~ Timothy B. GlynnMartin F. Simon ~ Scott MacLagan, of Counsel

“Congratulations On Your Creativity”North Country Road, Post Office Box 712, Stony Brook, New York 11790 • 631.751.5757

Glynn Mercep and Purcell, LLP

Lawyers

By LyDIA HSIEH-BEAttyMINNESAUkE ELEMENtAry ScHooL

GrADE 6

Special 2015 pullout section

Page 2: Pens & Pencils 2015

Is it Worth it?By cAtHErINE JIANG

r.c. MUrpHy Jr. HIGH ScHooLGrADE 8

Is it the sweet thing in my day?There is nothing so good, I wish it were forever.

Although, is it worth the time or does it stand in the way?

To put my body at risk, whatsoever.So delicious, such happiness it delivers.

My waist will widen, my health will regress. The thrill, the options, it gives me the jitters!

I hope I can still fit my dress.

Whatever I crave or my frame of mindYou are everywhere.

Look at those calories, I am blind. But I do not care, there will be no affair.

I’ll make sure we see each other every now and then.

But I will not be here over and over again.

The Truth of LoveBy VArSHA tALANkI

r.c. MUrpHy Jr. HIGH ScHooLGrADE 8

Each eerie night, she waited for her love, The nights felt longer as days went onward,

Had it been her, which he had got rid of?What had she done, was what she had wondered

He no longer acknowledged her presence, Their dialogue was a dual of words,

Bitterness had demolished love’s essence, She was trapped in a cage like a lone bird,

She thought that their tough times were in the past, He said that their days would last forever, Little did she know, they would be a last,

His presence gave her safety, however

Through the dreadful days, her feelings did tame, And then she realized, love is just a game.

By AMANDA SpAccArELLIWArD MELVILLE HIGH ScHooL

GrADE 12

By ANtHoNy MUScArELLAWArD MELVILLE HIGH ScHooL

GrADE 12

Page 3: Pens & Pencils 2015

By ALLISoN cUttINGMINNESAUkE ELEMENtAry ScHooL

©13

3737

A. Craig Purcell ~ Anthony W. Mercep ~ Timothy B. GlynnMartin F. Simon ~ Scott MacLagan, of Counsel

“Congratulations On Your Creativity”North Country Road, Post Office Box 712, Stony Brook, New York 11790 • 631.751.5757

Glynn Mercep and Purcell, LLP

Lawyers

By oLIVIA pASSANANtEWArD MELVILLE HIGH ScHooL

GrADE 12

YouBy LExI SULLIVAN

r.c. MUrpHy Jr. HIGH ScHooLGrADE 8

You are the love I set my eyes upon,The star of which upon my eyes will shine,The dream my mind rests upon at light of

dawn My heart’s desire of which my soul does pine.

You have emblazoned my fire within,Added a twinkle to my dulled eye,

My dreams more magical than they’ve been With you my heart does fly so very high.

Though I am unseen it is me you saw Through the mirrored walls I hide behind,

Your kind gentle heart did leave me in awe,And your bright beauty did have me so blind.For though you may have loved me greatly, You’ve come to love her much more lately.

A Conversation Overheard

By cAroLyN MANDrAccHIAWArD MELVILLE HIGH ScHooL

GrADE 12

She said “it’s like being on a date with

a new guy who just won’t tell youwhat he wants”

and I’m stuck here wonderingwhy on earth we’re expected to know

everything when I can’t tell you the amount of times

I’ve fallen off my bikeand I haven’t seen the world from anywhere

higher than my bedroom window

and I haven’t had the chance to find out if your hands are cold

and if they shake when you’re nervouslike mine do.

“Seriously hurry up” she says asI’m stuck wondering

how many days I will spend wishing I knew

why one leaf fell from a treebefore the next

why every book is about a girl who hates herself and a boy who finds

her beautiful anyway, like it’s an act of charity

and why I’ll spend most of my lifewanting to be somewhere else

even though it’s called home for a reason.“I’m sorry I’m just taking my time” he replied

and I’m stuck ponderingwhy we have to apologize for that.

Page 4: Pens & Pencils 2015

Stars in the Sky, Thoughts in

My HeadBy oLIVIA koMoSINSkI

WArD MELVILLE HIGH ScHooLGrADE 10

Writing as a student has become a mechanical process

Our minds,Which yearn for freedom,

Are encased in an infinitesimal boxThe box of invisible restrictionCreated by some anonymous

sitting at a deskTrying to control the way we think

Despite the monotony within this boxMy mind is liberated

Because I think interpreting the enigmas of my thoughts

Is nothing short of beautiful

I see myself as an astronomerExploring the never ending cosmos

of my mindSimply trying to make sense of the

unknown for the world to see

Sometimes, I look up at the night sky and see nothing

NothingBut assorted specks of twinkling crystals

up aboveBut other times,

In the perfect collision of fate and genius,There are shapes

The dagger in the belt of mighty OrionOr ladles scooping oblivion into galaxy

And in one ideal moment,This jumble of mess in my head

Makes senseIn this moment,

Ink blots on parchmentbecome a symphony,

Moving pictures tell a story and become a filmScattered stars,

become a constellationAnd these intangible ideasFloating about in my head

become writing

FreedomBy AIDEN roGErS

NASSAkEAG ELEMENtAry ScHooLGrADE 5

Freedom is an open plain,You can run

Around with no oneto stop you

Freedom is a great book.

Anything can happen,the possibilities

are endless

Freedom is beautiful music,It’s syle thatchanges with

never-ending beauty

Freedom is a thoughtfun mind,it runs wild,

it can think ofanything it wants.

By AMy cHENMINNESAUkE ELEMENtAry ScHooL

GrADE 3

By SHANNoN BErryr.c. MUrpHy Jr. HIGH ScHooL

Page 5: Pens & Pencils 2015

The Lacrosse GameBy WES SILVErMAN

W.S. MoUNt ELEMENtAry ScHooLGrADE 5

The lacrosse stick dances in my headThe lacrosse ball flies as the stick catches it

The turf giggles when the camera staresThe lights pretend to be the sun

The scoreboard counts when the net says ow!

Somewhere Far and Far and Far Away

By SHAHzADI IISAr.c. MUrpHy Jr. HIGH ScHooL

GrADE 9

Oh, the joy he felt to be this way;Somewhere far and far and far away;Where none could ever capture him;

Where in the endless rivers he would dare to swimA place full of mythical, magical days;

Where he would spend them in a hazy dazeRunning up mountains that reached the sky;

Touching the fluffy clouds way up highOh, the joy he felt to be this way;

Somewhere far and far and far awayA place full of glittering butterflies;

Hope and freedom that came with each sunriseThrough green grass valleys that always led

somewhereWhere the smells of pure nature filled the air

Oh, the joy he felt to be this way;Somewhere far and far and far awayThis place he escaped to every day

In his mind forever did he stayFor he was always to be trapped inside this cage;

Full of endless sadness and hopeless rageJust so they could find joy in his presence;And drown his once ever-joyous essence

Oh, the joy he felt to be this way;Somewhere far and far and far awayWhere none could ever capture him;

Where in the endless rivers he would dare to swim

©13

3737

A. Craig Purcell ~ Anthony W. Mercep ~ Timothy B. GlynnMartin F. Simon ~ Scott MacLagan, of Counsel

“Congratulations On Your Creativity”North Country Road, Post Office Box 712, Stony Brook, New York 11790 • 631.751.5757

Glynn Mercep and Purcell, LLP

Lawyers

By EMILy LopEzr.c. MUrpHy Jr. HIGH ScHooL

By ryAN GANNoNW.S. MoUNt ELEMENtAry ScHooL

kINDErGArtEN

Page 6: Pens & Pencils 2015

InertiaBy tHoMAS WANG

WArD MELVILLE HIGH ScHooLGrADE 12

If there were a need for honestyperhaps we could spare the pain in our inaction,

the steadfast wick of our desireslost to the steady flicker of time,before our bones relent to regret.

We breathe in yet the words fester.The seed of what we desire is

wistful, silent,blooming to a torrent

whose waves never refuse to complyto erase the bleeding folly of the heart,

receding before the threshold.I ask of you only to speak your mind.

Life is too fickle to beconstantly climbing.

Years from nowwe endure hope that

memories will presidein the dreary,

dusty,fondly forgottenthroes of youth.

Her Beauty is a MiseryBy HArrIS SEMErtzIDIS

r.c. MUrpHy Jr. HIGH ScHooL

Why must I be the one you choose to blame?I keep my promise as you told me to.

You always want the greed and all the fame,And I must be the one to help you through?

I cherish you as if you are my queen;Yet like a slave you won’t give me a dime,

And while your beauty is like none I’ve seen,I can’t help but think that I’ve wasted time.Just think about the chances I have gained.

They lay to waste while I work day and night.Do you know how it feels to be constrained?Your sins, my grace, will not be taken light.

I told you that I’d be here ‘til the end,But I think that my love has just been spent.

Learning to SpillBy ELENI ANEzIrIS

WArD MELVILLE HIGH ScHooLGrADE 11

In my body, the blood is warm in the veins and in the belly.

In my house, the pipes are cold. The walls shiver to the bite of nearly spring air.

I ask my mother to make me pear soup.She says, “That’s for sore throats,

not abdominal pain.”Instead, she offers boiled ginger,

and forgets my mouth was never raisedto accept such spices.

But the ache persists: visceral, pulsating, and the blood is still warm

in the veins and in the belly. Walls collapse, strangling the

air out of opportunity,shedding scarlet patchwork

pieces: a labor of affection for humanity’s cyclical renaissance.

It cries out. I cry out.“Hush, it’s natural. It’s every woman’s duty.

It’s six thirty, the sun’s up now, go to school.”

Endurance prevails.

SpringBy SAcHIN pAtNAIk

NASSAkEAG ELEMENtAry ScHooLGrADE 4

Flowers start blooming smell the amazing smell

Colors all over the place that bright up the skyOutside we finally go after this long winter

monthsWatch all the butterflies and bumble bees

come out and land on the flowersAhh choo! Allergies are coming beware

Spring such a beautiful thing

Fire IslandBy rEBEccA ryAN

NASSAkEAG ELEMENtAry ScHooLGrADE 4

The lighthouse,shining through the dark night,

the boats will follow you.The yacht flags are waving,

Each one of a kind,waving on the boats

Going up spiral stairs,to get to the top,

gaze upon the view.You can hear the waves,

crashing down on the beach.

By ALExANDrA GArrISoNr.c. MUrpHy Jr. HIGH ScHooL

Page 7: Pens & Pencils 2015

My mom is the Best Mom in the World

By SArAH xAVIErW.S. MoUNt ELEMENtAry ScHooL

The first reason my mom is the best mom in the world is because she helps me clean my

room. Then she makes me happy.I love her so much. We have dinner together.

She makes me macaroni.Finally, I love my mom because she does hard

work. She is my best mommy ever!

©13

3737

A. Craig Purcell ~ Anthony W. Mercep ~ Timothy B. GlynnMartin F. Simon ~ Scott MacLagan, of Counsel

“Congratulations On Your Creativity”North Country Road, Post Office Box 712, Stony Brook, New York 11790 • 631.751.5757

Glynn Mercep and Purcell, LLP

Lawyers

jUmBlEd Thoughts of a Junior High School Student

By LEAH cUSSENr.c. MUrpHy Jr. HIGH ScHooL

GrADE 8

Something in Motion

By SEAN cASSIDyWArD MELVILLE HIGH ScHooL

GrADE 11

Her husband’s back from the deadAnd he’s been up for a month or so.

The novelty’s worn offAnd the affection’s rotted away

As she watches himShivering on the couch,

Speaking out loud to himself, this time:“A real man kicks down the door for his wife

And falls back into his burning houseAs it crumbles to dust on top of him”

She used to love hearing his voiceAnd talking to him sometimes for weeks

Without pause, and he used to listen,But now she can’t get far away enough from

his ramblingShe can’t get far away, period,

He’s a ghost and he’s bound to herLike his home and when she hears his voice

Seeping through her office door orHer car window or

Aisle three of Best Buy

She wonders if he’s even aware that he’s fol-lowing her

Because he’s not talking to her when he says,“A real man doesn’t live forever,

Doesn’t live to finish thingsA real man sets something in motion and dies

While it’s still picking up speed.”

She’s living in a new apartment now,And he’s taken to sitting outside her door.

His voice comes through in muffled shouts,Clearest when she’s trying to sleep

Like some animal scratching,Sort of obnoxious and more than a little sadBut he has hands, and sometimes she wishes

He’d let himself in.

wait wait waitI want to be an adult

Stop treating me like a childMy head aches

Too much homeworkI will finish it tomorrow

sleep sleep sleepOverslept

Missed the busI’ll just wear sweatpantsMissing so much work

Can I drop out of school?drama drama drama

No one likes meI have no friends

Why are they so mean?Don’t talk to them

I hate everyonerush rush rush

Don’t talk about high schoolLet me get through this week

When is the essay due?I just hope I pass

stop stop stopTake me back to yesterdayI’m wasting so much timeSorry, I have work to do

“Yes, school was good today.”I have no life

School is my life

By VIANNA HAMIDIW.S. MoUNt ELEMENtAry ScHooL

Page 8: Pens & Pencils 2015

©13

3737

A. Craig Purcell ~ Anthony W. Mercep ~ Timothy B. GlynnMartin F. Simon ~ Scott MacLagan, of Counsel

“Congratulations On Your Creativity”North Country Road, Post Office Box 712, Stony Brook, New York 11790 • 631.751.5757

Glynn Mercep and Purcell, LLP

Lawyers

headphones ondrugged

by the music that’s way too loudeyes closed

to forget how it feels when he lectures youover and over like the lines in the road

blocking out your favorite songsthat sound wrong in his cardrowning music with music

the honey-sweet guitarand the drum that syncs with the

bumps in the roadand you decide you like this better

than his grating voicewhen your eyes jolt open

dropped from your electronic fantasyyou’re in the real world now

and once your head stops spinningyou can tell you’re near the pizza place

in the dingy strip-mall that never has too many cars

but was the sign always that red?was the night this black before?

the contrast sends your mind spinning into thought

and the neon gives you a headachebut it reminds you of the song from that musicalthat you always end up singing with your very

best friendsand as you feel your eyes unfocusing

you know you’re gonna get another lecturefor the expression your face makes when you

zone outapparently you look angry

in fact, you couldn’t be happierto remember they care

before the music fades back inred light switching to greenand the bumps in the road

shake your now-melting heart

Pay AttentionBy ELIzABEtH zHAo

WArD MELVILLE HIGH ScHooLGrADE 11

Hair flies like paper streamers“Don’t worry Dory,Grandma’s got you.”Sweet Vidalie Onions

Boxes of eggs,Who are screaming to get out,

Are loaded on the dollyTo travel in

A maze with no dead ends.Dappled light shines on transparent apples,

While invisible bladesWhir

In their cages,Next to a stand

Where overpriced glasswareCall for your attention.

Cool, sweet, sheets of fudge.“How much?”“Four clusters.”

Limu Moui in the corner.A baby cries out

A siren call.Words stained beige with calm.

Salt seeds on my pretzel.The street magician

Pulling handkerchiefs out of shirtsleeves.And old green coke bottles watchLined up like little toy soldiers.

Red-Light SonataBy MADDy AVNI

r.c. MUrpHy Jr. HIGH ScHooLGrADE 8

Didn’t see your submission?

If your submission did not appear in Pens and Pencils, look for it in the Kids’ Times corner in an upcoming edition of the Arts and Lifestyles section of The Village Times Herald. By ABBy LILLy

r.c. MUrpHy Jr. HIGH ScHooL