Table of ContentsAbstract art “Many New Worlds” by Seraphim TelepPlaces artA Poem By Meesha AhmadiTechnology art“The Dawn” by Seraphim Telep“Love Beneath the Moonlight” by Meral ArikPoster Art“What would tomorrow be if we were

gone?” by Ryan EmhoffPeople art“Lady of the Sea” by Mehrnaz SiavoshiWarrior by Cathrine ShiFlora art“The Truth” by Seraphim TelepAnimal artWings Staff

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Natasha Todd Tom Giron

Tom Giron Meghan Sabik

Meghan Sabik Natasha ToddTom Giron

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PlacesMany New Worlds

Day by day, many new worlds I mentally create,

And day by day I scribble them down upon some flimsy wooden slate.

I write about the good of peace and about the evil of war,

I write how the trees do grow and how the falcons soar.

I write how the adventurous soul explores both wood and field,

And how the warrior, when time calls, picks up his sword and shield.

I write about the flowing rivers and about the bountiful flowers.

I write about the city life and how to live away from towers.

I write about the many things that make men sane or mad,

And I write how men gain a happy life, though for some it turns out sad.

by Seraphim Telep

Nekarty Telep

Nektary Telep Seraphim Telep

Kristi Lin Mehrnaz Siavoshi

Seraphim Telep

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Seraphim Telep

Kristi Lin

Seraphim Telep Seraphim Telep

Nektary Telep

Kristi Lin

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A Poem By Meesha Ahmadi

She wishes life had a meaning Hopes and dreams worth completing Her mother cries as her daddy fights She screams into the world “Too much hatred and so many lies!” She holds a picture in her hands from when she was just a baby Of her joyful mother and her friendly daddy What had happened for their life to amount down to this? She closes her eyes, and whispers a plea To God in hope of some serenity Interrupted by shrieks of grieving pain Mother is hurt, daddy is insane! She runs out into the cold outdoors of New York Closes her eyes and tries to forget Flashbacks occur, she tells herself not to fret She yells into the world “It must get better someday!”

Edward Yeow

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Andrew Forman

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Opening the door And hides in the closet She whispers to herself “What has happened?” Life is just a game where I always lose Emotions I feel I never get to choose I have to grow up and stand up for myself No more hiding, and lend some help She opens the door and walks up to the fight Mommy and daddy pause As she begins to cry Our family is no more Breaking the picture They used to adore Years go on Daddy is out Mommy is happy And no more pain She looks at the clear blue sky And calmly says “This is not the end”

Meghan Sabik

Hayden JohnsonNatasha Todd

Taylor K. Laser Jack McPhillips

Taylor K. LaserBrandon Grunberg

The Dawn by Seraphim Telep

Oh dawn, oh early streaks of gold,When the sun first peaks o’er the mountain topsAnd the shadows of the hills unfold.In these first few moments of day,When many of the world’s people sleep,Only a few have risen to see this fair displayAnd contemplate the things of old.

Of all the learned, the prudent, and the proud,True Knowledge comes to but a few;And then as just a whisper of a sound,To gain the wisdom of the True.

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Love Beneath the Moonlight by Meral Arik

So baffled here I stand,Astounded; mortified.Here I cringe at the horrid prospectOf my selfish tears spilling,Trickling unto my rosy cheeks with such reluctance,Given that they certainly possess no right to do so.My heart shrieks with distress,Oh how I loathe the shame of retrospect,But how I yearn for a time before malevolence had ever glanced in my direction,Before it had become a part of me.

I rest here foolishly,For not a single constituent of my seemingly outstand-ing educationCan lead my naïve mind to decipher his strength.We seized from him his family, his possessions,And all else to his humble name,While in return we imposed upon himNone but intricate labor and ghastly punishmentsFor the most preposterous of matters.

Oh how fortuitously he lures my deceitful adoration,As the moonlight dances upon his mannish splendor.He subsists with such endurance,With such a marvelous will to live as I have never be-fore witnessedAmong my monetarily engrossed household.

But I am prepared to ease his anguish,

For nothing in God’s name has given meOr my guardiansThe right to place upon his tender black skinThe gashes that now dwell upon it.I am done hiding; I am bringing to a closure this mali-ciousnessThat has eternally stainedMy once ingenuous soul.

But I persist in concealing my delicate figure from himBehind the menacing thornsThat now separate my manor from my cotton fieldUpon which he presently toils.Oh God,Those very thorns detachMy heart from his,Though I wish they would hinder their dreadful endeavors.

The hour strikes eight as all beneath the sticky summer skyFalls to darkness.As I turn around,I desert all faith of companionship with thisFascinating slave,To wash and slumberAs my now sodden visage and heavy heart greet the eve-ningWith repentance and shattered reveries.But suddenly, as I take one final glance in his direction,I find my eyes deeply interlocked in his.

My first instinct is to flee,But something within me is preventing me from doing so.I perceive his growing tense,As I gradually begin to inch forward in his bearing,

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Moe Scott

Orr Amran

Taylor Bray

Crossing the boundary between prejudice,And steadily progressing towards coexistence.

He stands stationary, now without even a glimpse of bewil-dermentWithin his striking brown eyes.I halt just footsteps before his majestic silhouette,And wait.My breath escapes meAs he extends his mighty hand,Guiding myself to intertwine my fragile fingers into his,Which enclose as I abruptly encounter a sensation,An unfeigned sentiment,Which I have never before experiencedIn such bare purity.

He draws me closer, until our faces gently touchWith Miss Moonlight as our sole critic.His sweat collects upon my own brow,As we smoothly remove our dissimilarities,And become one.And with one kiss upon his heavenly lipsI realize.I stole all good in his life,And he stole my heart.

No man or woman has ever been,Nor shall ever name himselfSuperior in regards to his friends or foes,And every so oftenLove may just be the only indication

Of this enchanting truth.It was for me.

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People

Adam Taylor Mehrnaz Siavoshi

Orr Amran

Heidi Berg Orr Amran

What would tomorrow be if we were gone?

By Ryan Emhoff

What would tomorrow be if we were gone?If the cities were devoid of voices,And all human malevolence withdrawn?If the Earth, no more, suffered from our choices?

The tendrils would creep to reclaim their place,As the rightful denizens of the ground.Only tears from clouds would print the Earth’s face.And the soughs of the night would not be drowned.

The ramifications of our absence,Seem to be non-existent to the Earth.As if our presence showed just arrogance.Like the world and its creatures rued our birth.

The Earth will live despite the hole we leave.And for us, not a single life will grieve.

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Vicky DerricksTom Giron

Edward YeowLauren Cruz

Edward YeowAndrew Forman

Lady of the Sea by Mehrnaz Siavoshi

She walks alongThe ocean blue

Never touching the sandShe knows her said future is untrue

Tears fall fromHer blue green eyes

She knows she’s doomedTo this sad, sad life

And though they tell herIt’ll be ok

She knows in her heartIt isn’t.

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moved up two grades when the teacher asked him to write an es-say explaining his behavior. After reading his essay, Mrs. Elmer, Nathan’s teacher at the time, admired the work that she called “the finest piece of writing by a student, college or elementary, that she had ever read” and promptly informed Principal Barnes. The rest of the class was made up of children that were “just ordinary,” and Principal Barnes had never bothered to learn their names. Among them was Leia Nathan. Leia man-aged average grades, was not at all artistic or creative, and was always out sick. Principal Barnes only began to register her existence at the beginning of fourth grade, because of count-less trips to the nurse’s office. He believed these trips were un-necessary. Leia could not go a single day without visiting the nurse’s office. She bruised and bled easily and would often be excused early from P.E., complaining that her knees and el-bow hurt. I mean c’mon the girl is barely ten, how can she have joint pain?! was what Principal Barnes thought every time he looked through the window of the nurse’s office and saw Leia sitting, with her feet above the floor, on the day bed. Leia was from a middle-class family. She had one broth-er, Jonathon. When Jonathon attended Skyway Elemen-tary, it was almost immediately evident that he would go far in life. He began reading newspapers at the age of three, and could do two-digit multiplication by the beginning of second grade. In addition to his academic accomplish-ments, Jonathon was an athlete, known for his fearlessness and agility on the soccer field. Leia dwarfed in comparison. After hearing that Jonathon had a younger sister, Principal Barnes could not wait to see what the other Nathan would con-tribute to school. Leia was somewhat of a letdown and Principal Barnes turned his attention to the higher achieving students. Leia was a timid girl, unlike her outgoing brother. When playing soccer, Leia would often run in the direction opposite of the ball, and during P.E. she had what Coach Lynch called “tea parties”

Warrior by Cathrine ShiPrincipal Barnes was a kind and round man, and when he walked he tended to roll a little. Today, he would be greeting the school’s new fifth grade teacher. He rolled towards Room 5A, clutching in his hands a square package. In his head, he began to prepare himself to tell the story of a young girl who attended Skyway Elementary a couple of years back. He lifted up a large, rather porky hand and shakily opened the door. Lumbering into the classroom and looking around, he called the name of the newly-appointed teacher and heard nothing but the echo of his own voice. Principal Barnes looked around the room, noting the vacant seats surrounding him. Touched by nostalgia, he imagined little Sophie Roget sitting in the front of the room with her hand held high. Be-hind her sat Maximillon Cliff, with whom Principal Barnes had been very well acquaint-ed, after having signed about fifty of his referral forms. Oh, and then there was Brandon, yes Brandon, who was seldom seen without a box of tissues. Down the row sat “little miss perfect” Stacy Bernard. She played piano and trumpet, had won the sci-ence fair three years in a row, and played travel basketball. She sat next to the genius of the class, Nathan Mitchell, who had skipped two grades. Nathan had had his fair share of trips to the principal’s office, a result of boredom in lower grades. He was

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thon’s tear-streaked face as he came into the Principal’s office to tell Principal Barnes the terrible, terrible news. Jonathon barely sat down before he collapsed into large, broken sobs. Principal Barnes watched, heart-broken, as one of the most put-together young men he had ever known was torn down in front of him. Principal Barnes looked at the swollen, red face of Jonathon and saw that the mischievous sparkle in his soft brown eyes was gone, they looked dull and lifeless. Not a word passed between the two, but the two were on the same page. A silent under-

standing crossed the two and soon Principal Barnes’s own eyes began to water. Leia had cancer, and her chances at living were slim. * * *

Principal Barnes rubbed his eyes; he felt ex-hausted. All his memories flooded back to him and he struggled to restrain himself. He opened his eyes and faced the front of the class room. Leia materialized before his eyes, as did the rest of her class. She stood at the front of the class, tall and proud. Her poise and strength rivaled

that of a soldier. A lot had changed since the beginning of the year. She no longer was afraid to speak in front of the class and when she spoke, the words that came out were beyond her years.“Hi everybody,” she greeted the class. “Some of you may have guessed, but I’m sick. I have cancer, which is a disease that makes all your hair fall out, which is why Mrs. Porter lets me wear this hat in class. I know it sounds scary, but I’ll be okay. I know that cancer is changing my life a lot, but I can still do normal things, like playing tag and helicopter. I can still play Neopets too. I’m kinda scared, but you guys don’t worry, my brother always says life’s too short for that. I’m gonna fight

with her friends. This was juxtaposed with the athletic nature of her mother, a fitness trainer at a local gym. Michelle Nathan was what some would call an irresponsible mother, and had been married more times than the other mothers could count. Her busy schedule left little room for her to spend time with her two children. Because Jonathon was old enough to drive his younger sister, he took her to and from school every day and often had to take care of her at night. As a result, the two shared an unbreakable bond that was comparable to one between a father and a daughter. Principal Barnes first became aware of Michelle’s distracted and inattentive nature towards her kids when, one day, Mrs. Porter, Leia’s teacher at the time, came to Principal Barnes, concerned. She had noticed that Leia seemed tired and sick-ly. She also noted that Leia had lost some weight. Principal Barnes felt a little worried and promptly notified the girl’s mother. Passing on Mrs. Porter’s message, Principle Barnes tried again and again to explain the unease he felt towards Leia’s condition, but Michelle brushed off his concerns like they were an annoying piece of lint on her favorite wool coat. * * *

Principal Barnes began to acknowledge the surround-ings around him again. The new teacher had not arrived yet. He took a few steps forward and gingerly eased him-self into a chair. With an unsteady hand, he pulled out his handkerchief and blotted his shiny forehead. He could still remember the ominous words Mrs. Porter spoke to him:“The class was taking the Chapter 6 Test, when Leia walks up to me, white as a sheet, and whispers, ‘Mrs. Porter I-I-I-I don’t feel well, is it all right if I go to the nurse’s office to rest a while?’ Before I could answer the poor child’s question, she collapsed. Her head hit the whiteboard and she just crumpled into a pile on the floor.” The large man took a deep trembling breath and tried to ig-nore his impending headache. He could still imagine Jona-

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Natasha Todd

Seraphim TelepKristi Lin

Natasha ToddKristi Lin

Nektary Telep

this battle like a warrior and who knows, maybe I’ll win.” The middle-aged principal of Skyway Elementary School sudden-ly felt very old. He reached up to wipe the tears that were forming in his eyes. Leia might not have been the brightest or most athlet-ic student at Skyway, but she was definitely the most courageous. She was a warrior and even though she lost her battle with cancer, she had won the respect of everyone who had been in that class-room listening to her talk about the disease that was killing her. * * *

The fifth graders of Room 5A noticed nothing special about their classroom. But, if you looked the corner of the room, just two feet away from the teacher’s desk, you’ll find a bookshelf. On the only uncluttered shelf, you’ll see a square picture frame, and in that frame sits a photo of a girl with one of the biggest smiles you’ll ever see. And, if you look closely enough, you’ll see the words, “Leia Nathan, Warrior” engraved into the frame.

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The Truth by Seraphim Telep

Some say it’s Evolution,

But I say “Oh, no no!”

For I do not believe

That God would have it so.

Just take a look around you,

Glance at every living thing.

Just think, “How could the birds,

(Through chance) so beautifully sing?

How could the trees (through chance)

So perfectly photosynthesize?

And caterpillars, their bodies,

So flawlessly compromise?

How could the wings of birds

Transport them through the air,

If the crooked helmsman (chance)

Was the only helmsman there?”

So dear reader, take a look around

At this great glorious Earth.

Was this creation God’s great plan,

Or Evolution’s mirth?

Kristi Lin

Natasha Todd

Nektary TelepKristi Lin

Orr Amran

Nektary Telep

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Kristi Lin

Andrew Forman

Bridgette

Bridgette

Kristi LinAndrew Forman

BridgetteKristi Lin

Andrew Forman

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Wings Staff

Meral arik - Co-Presidentever since Meral was a little girl, she has had a deep passion for writing. She began winning writing contests in the third grade, and by the time she was a high school sophomore she had been recognized at local and statewide levels for her essays, poetry, and short stories.

Meral was Vice President and News editor of Oak Park High School’s Journalism Club/‘The eagle” student news-paper during her junior year. However, after realizing that her heart truly lay in more creative forms of writing, she de-cided to focus her senior year’s efforts on WiNGS literary Magazine. She hopes to pursue her love of writing through-out the course of her lifetime, and she plans to publish anovel or poetry book sometime in the near future. Writing will always be a part of her life, and she hopes you enjoyed reading WiNGS as much as she enjoyed working on it!

SeraPHiM TeleP - Co-PresidentWelcome and greetings to all who may cast eyes upon these words.

Seraphim Telep is presently a senior at Oak Park High School. He has always maintained a love of literature and writing, and since his youth he has written in many styles and forms. Through poetry, journaling, and story writing he has been able to impart his thoughts, memories, and feel-ings to an immortal and other-dimensional state. in particu-lar, Seraphim enjoys writing poetry since this artistic form allows for sincere expression and insightful meaning hid-den within just a few lines. Coupled with his love of pho-tography, Seraphim has found poetry a wonderful way to intertwine his other interests, particularly his love of nature.

it is this love of art and writing that inspired him to join the ranks of WiNGS as a poetry editor during his freshman year. Since then he continued to be an editor for WiNGS, and this continual devotion and love of art and writing eventu-ally inspired him to take on the position of co-president.

Writing has its magic, but seeing one’s work and the work of others in print is an even greater joy. Seraphim hopes you all will enjoy this publication. May it inspire future art-ists to master and perfect their artistic call.

aSHley SiaVOSHi - layout editorAshley began reading at the age of two and started writing her first stories when she was five. She had a very imaginative mind and easily came up with characters. a few of ashley’s poems were pub-lished in her elementary school’s literary magazine.Putting pen to paper has always been a way for ashley to express herself and make her thoughts known to the world. She enjoys word-play and finding the hidden meaning in poems and other written works. in middle school, ashley and some of her friends created a writing blog, giving basic advice on things like how to come up with a plot line and preventing writers block.

longing for another way to stay in touch with writers in her every day life, ashley joined WINGS as a layout editor in the first semester of her freshman year at Oak Park.

CaTHriNe SHi - Written Work editorCathrine is currently a sophmore at Oak Park High. She loves to read and learn about all the different experiences that people have gone through, which is what motivated her to join the Wings liter-ary Magazine. She really enjoyed reviewing all the submittions that were turned in and hopes that in the coming years, there will be even more. She also hopes you enjoy this magazine.

NekTary TeleP - Photography editorGreetings and good day to any who gaze upon this article.ever since his earliest days, Nektary Telep has been, and still is, ab-sorbed by the freedom and creativity that comes with art and draw-ing. He has done many different illustrations in his past days, and though none of them are even closely as grand as the Mona lisa, he considers drawing art as one of the natural talents that he is gifted with. His love of art allows him to travel to many different worlds, in-cluding his own, and to interact up closely with nature and make his own creations in the world ink and color. He is also in the processes of writing poetry and looks forward to mastering that ability in the near future. Taking pictures of nature and other scenic views has been a

favorite for Nektary for it allows him to see the true depth of nature’s hidden and precious beauties more than just once and to retain it for a period longer than memory would permit.Nektary Telep joined the WINGS in the first semester of his freshmen year to be able to help other artists, if not immediately presenting his own artwork. He looks forward to be part of the others carrying this great club onward through the rest of his time in Oak Park High School, and hopes you enjoy this artistic creation.

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