The Quill2012­ 2013

The Quill

Volume 72012-2013

Princeton Academy of the Sacred Heart

Cover: pen, ink, and calligraphydrawing by JP Leddy ’14

Manuscripts are submitted to the staff of The Quill.All work is revised for grammar and clarity.

We are pleased to announce a contest to design the coverof 2013-2014 Quill.

Princeton Academy of the Sacred Heart1128 Great Road

Princeton, NJ 08540

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Table of Contents

A Man Living, Scott Durish 4Acrylic on Canvas, Arthur Lewis 5 Drawing, Atticus Lynch 5 What You Leave Behind, Tucker Dunn 6Dear John Grisham, Atticus Lynch 765, Dana Gajewski 8Nightscape, JP Irizarry 9Time, Matthew Daudén 10My Favorite Time of Day, Charlie Clark 11Go to Bed, Ruedi Kasabach 11Weather, Christian Bae 12Light, Omar Khan 12Leaves inspired by Georgia O’Keefe, Charlie Clark 13Pi, Brian Radvany 143.14159265358... Garrett George 14Pi Isn’t Wonderful, Scott Durish 15Guitar Man, Jack Landis 16Dog, Garrett George 17What Hurts More, Brian Lu 18Boo Radley, Myles Brown 19Cave Painting, Ruedi Kasabach 20

Jackson Island, Stefan Reutter 20Jackson Island, JP Jeanes 21Jackson Island, Dana Gajewski 211627, Bobby Vogel 22Self-Portrait, Rohan Chatterjee 22Great Wave Block Print, Robert Enck 23All the Many Quills, Brian Rowntree 24Pen and ink with calligraphy, Bobby Vogel 25Drawing in the style of Thiebaud, Steven Kopits 26

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A Man Living

A man living Must choose his wayOr else he will falter And wither away

A man living Can't skip through life No matter how much painNo matter how much strife

A man livingNeeds to grip it well Or else it will drop And crack like a shell

A man living Has to squeeze out its meaning And once it's dry Wet it once again with feeling

A man living Must not think of the end But think of what to do Before he ascends

Scott Durish ’15

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Paintings on Canvas with Acrylics

Vito's in the style of Edward Hopper's NighthawksAcrylic on canvas Arthur Lewis ’15

Acrylic on canvas Mathew Dauden '15

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What You Leave Behind

Some people think life is nothing,They think it is an empty dream, They waste their time, Until their life just goes up in steam,

But life is more than working, Just lasting everyday.You're the one that can make the choice,To turn another way,

Leave your mark upon on the world,As others did before,All those others who answered,When opportunity was at the door,

You will die, but do not worry,We all do some day,What matters is what you leave behind,What you do and what you say.

Tucker Dunn ’15

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This letter was a New Jersey finalist in the Letters about Literature Contestsponsored by the New Jersey Center for the Book and the Library of Congress.

Dear John Grisham,

Your Theodore Boone books have taught me a lot about the law.The books changed my whole point of view about the role of thecourt system. All of your books kept me engaged, but I especiallyenjoyed the first one. I not only learned about the ranks in thecourt, but I never realized there is a judge for every case. Yourbook partially changed the way I live. Theo really inspired me. Heis so independent. I loved how he never depended on his parents,but was obedient. I love exploring my town and being a little morefree.

Being a lawyer really never crossed my mind for a job.When I read this book I realized that I wanted to defend innocentpeople and take the guilty down. It was the first book that made methink of being a lawyer. As Theo kept gathering evidence that Mr.Duffy was guilty, I felt I needed to be in the book, so I could savethe day and help Theo solve the case. If I become a lawyer, I notonly want to take down the guilty, I want to make sure the peoplewho are innocent are not put in jail. There are lots of charges thataren't true, which make me angry and motivates me to want tohelp.

After I told my teacher I would be writing to you, she gaveme a bit of your writing about your jobs before becoming a lawyerand then a writer. It gave me the thought that you can't plan yourlife. It's like a book; you never know what happens next. One cango from being an underwear salesman to a lawyer like you. Thelaw really inspires me. There are great stories to tell, and there isalways a mystery to solve.

Sincerely,

Atticus Lynch ’15

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65

Among the pitter-patter of the rain.And light pollution. I saw the number 65 In grey! Upon the side of an orange street carRevving its engineTense with anticipation.UnbridledA flare eruptsEngines explode with revsAll at the redline. And the wheels skid! Off into a dark, deep fog.

– Dana Gajewski ’14

Dana’s poem is modeled after "The Great Figure"by William Carlos Williams

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Nightscape JP Irizarry ’15

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Time

When the moon fades,the sun comes out as though reborn. The dew on the grass glimmers like glass, The first rays of the sun reach out,Touching everything with the soft warmth of day. The light fights the shadows until they retreat,to hide in the corners to stay.Happy and ready to start a new day.

When the sun reaches the middle of the sky,the heat is ruthless and cruel. Plants need watering, and maybe some will droop. The birds are playing in backyard birdbaths, Deer are sleeping quietly until dusk,Rabbits are hopping around in gardens,People are home, waiting for the heat to be over,Only the air conditioners are working overtime,

Finally, the heat retreats, to create a chill in the air; the sun is ready to set. It says good-bye in red and pink. The last few of the sun’s rays try to grasp something to pull them back into the sky, but they fall over the horizon. Shadows claim the world, and they set it into a deep slumber.Roads are deserted, playgrounds are empty, and everyone is silent caught in a web of peaceful sleep,Waiting for the sun to rise once more.

Matthew Daudén ’15

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My Favorite Time of Day

I fly through the skyAnd I don’t even try

Now I’m fighting a dragonThen I’m drinking from a flagon

Now mystery I'm in a book Pretending to be the evil crook

Finally in my favorite placeSailing a sailboat in a race

Next I wake up in my bedthis dream fills me with dread

Charlie Clark ’16

“Go to Bed”

Warm sheetsNo more treatsHear the pounding on my doorSmell the clothes on the floorSlip into my coversGet away from brotherly hugsPillow on head “Go to bed!”zzzzzzzzzz

Ruedi Kasabach ’16

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Weather

Weather sits in a chair of air and clouds

It wears a jacket of water and life It is everywhere and will be everywhere It celebrates itself and makes a storm It eats nothing and everything Life is a toy for weather

- Christian Bae ’16

Light

Light is a string, pulling you out of the darkA hand, reaching out to you when the shadows have cornered youOr maybe a flower bud, waiting to shineIt’s a guide, leading you to your havenIt will always help those who deserve it Always Omar Khan ’16

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Colored pencil in the style of Georgia O’Keefe Charlie Clark ’16

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The Pi Poems 3.14159265358979...The first line of a pi poem has three words. The second line has oneword in it; the third line has four words in it; the fourth line has oneword, the fifth has five, the sixth has nine…. You can actually have aninfinite number of lines since the number pi goes on and on and on….

PiIt goes forever.Eternity,Pi is so long,Forever,Why must you go on?Every time I see you I wonder please finish.It won't I give up trying to read you!Oh number, I hate youAlways going on!How can you remember it?I am sorry that I cannot remember piWe learned a smaller version in math class today! Sadness, disappear, humility, these are the causes Of pi, three point one four one five nine...!

Brian Radvany ’15

3.14159265358...

The mystery’s solved.Pi,The brain-crippling tastes shroudsAnything,Besides the circumference of pie,Sitting on the plate restraining my will to resist.Oh, pi,Three, one, four, one, five, nine…Six numbers that haunt everyMath student’s mindInfinite numbers crowd my paperNever to be used ever again while testingBut still so delicious… Garrett George ’15

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Pi Isn’t Wonderful

3. Pi isn't wonderful.1 Infinite 4 Every time I look 1 Forever5 It hurts my eyes so9 It makes me want to throw out all math 2 My head 6 my incredibly confused, destroyed, battered head3 Begins to ache6 Making my brain start to break5 Everything starts to spin inside3 My brain, causing 5 It to go dangerously insane8 My mind starts to fall apart and drown9 In an ocean of numbers and math disturbed sounds 7 I look away in hope of retreat 9 Shredding my paper up for my fish to eat!

-Scott Durish ’15

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Guitar Man

Traveling through each town on footBut no one knows his name

None recognize the songs he playsBut they love them just the same

He soothes the soul and heals the heartBut never asks for money

He'll play his songs, each and every oneWhether it's pouring rain or sunny

Where he lives, no one can tellWhat he eats, no one has witnessedBut injuries don't seem to stop him

Nor do pain or sickness

He plays at dusk, he plays at dawnBut you'll never hear his voice

He'll kill your fears and crush your hatesAnd help you make that choice

Jack Landis ’14

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acrylic on canvas Garrett George ’15

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What Hurts More

What throbs is rage, what aches is rejection.

Exclusion is a frigid, malicious cage, entombing one from that desired stage.

With that consideration, I'd prefer rage, in my opinion.

But now I recall occasions in that position under the vengeful malevolence of anger.

So I guess I might swap my opinion, For the blazing fury of a temper is just as crushing as isolation.

Brian Lu ’14

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Boo Radley

A crack in the curtains, A beam of light Penetrates My eternal night.

With no one to care I stand here alone, Wondering ifI’ll ever leave home.

In the beginning, Right from the start I never belonged, I knew in my heart.

Misunderstood, Unknown, unnamed, It was always meBeing blamed.

Now this lightFalls on the floor Tempting me To walk out the door.

To see what I’ve been missing To walk upon the grass, To have the wind brush past my face And not be blocked by glass.

But I know This can never be, So I close the curtains And walk away.

I’m the man in shadows That no one knows, I’m the man in the houseWhere no one goes. Myles Browne ’13

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Ruedi Kasabach ’16 Pastel inspired by Cave paintings of Lascaux, France

The Jackson’s Island Poems

The three sat around the campfire, The red light shining true, Being described with satire, Bathed in a red hue.

The first wore rags and oversized boots, The second failed to woo, The third pirate was in cahoots, They were made to resemble you.

Stefan Reutter ’14

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The Jackson's Island Poems Continued

Jackson's Island is a pirates' land,One where they can think and plan.There they will try new things,Smoking, thinking, and wearing their bling.They stood under a dark gray sky,And wondered how fast it would go by.The trees rustled, and fought with the wind,As the three pirates stood and scratched their chins.

Jackson's Island surrounded by water,One way to get across is to swim like an otter.A pirate must obey the rules of their pact,And if they do not they will be told to go back.As the day closes,There was a bed of roses,For the dead boys,Who used to be pirates. JP Jeanes ’14

The cold, gray dawn Showed a small little glint of the sun. The birds chirped, signaling the horizon has appeared The white smoked curled up into the sky, until it was caught by the gentle blowing of a calm breeze.

The wooded forest gave signs of life. The animals poked their heads out of nests and holes, Only to clamber back in once I passed by. The only other noise was the toot of the riverboat horn. The churning of the great wheel and the engine that drives the boat. I turn back, to find Huck and Joe rising from their beds.

Dana Gajewski ’14

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1627

A simple lonely pine tree does not fathom a hawk –

But a nice white ash, with twiggy nest will make it want to

Squawk!

Bobby Vogel ’14 Inspired by Emily Dickinson

Self-Portrait Rohan Chatterjee ’13

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All -School Project

Interpreting the Great Wave Off Kanagawa Wood block print by the Japanese artist Hokusai

Block print by Robert Enck ’15

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All the Many Quills

What was a quill in the olden days?Simply a tool To use then refill

What was a quillWhen found on a bird?A soft tail featherFor that was God's will

What was a quillWhen found on a gnawer- a porcupine, a hedgehog?When used, blood will spill

What was a quill In 2012? A drama, a show 'Twas quite a thrill

What now is a quill?A book of hard workThe result of a school Created through good will

The Quill is created From students contributionsHard work, much stress But it's all worth it

Brian Rowntree ’14

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The Quill2012- 2103Volume 7

If you would like to sponsor The Quill, your name will be listed innext year’s edition. Please make checks payable to Princeton

Academy, indicating The Quill in the memo. Contact Holly Weise for more details.

Pen and ink with calligraphy Bobby Vogel ’15

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Steven Kopits’14 In the style of Thiebaud’s cake paintings

2012-2013 Quill StaffMyles BrowneJonathan MannJP SinukSteven KopitsStefan RuetterNicholas McLeanMckenna Palmer

Zander Kurowski

Nikhil AggarwalWill TewellJack LandisBobby VogelMichael WoodleyDana GajewskiMax Sanchez

Art Directors: Max Sanchez and JP SinukFaculty Advisor: Holly Weise

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The Literary Launch PartyOctober 30, 2013

Dana Gajewski welcomes the contributors and guests.

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Princeton Academy of the Sacred Heart, an independent Catholic lowerand middle school for boys, is committed to academic excellence within

the context of a faith­based community.

Our mission is to develop young men with active and creative minds, asense of understanding and compassion for others, and the courage to

act on their beliefs.  We stress the total development of each child:spiritual, moral, intellectual, social, emotional, and physical.

Our philosophy is rooted in the 200­year tradition of theSociety of the Sacred Heart, which educates children to become leaders

of a just society by adhering to the following five goals:

A personal and active faith in God

A deep respect for intellectual values

A social awareness that impels to action

The building of community as a Christian value

Personal growth in an atmosphere of wise freedom.

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