hayfield wingspan literary magazine

EMPOWER

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HAYFIELD WINGSPAN LITERARY

MAGAZINE

We came up with the idea of empowerment because throughout the year we discovered many unheard voices that deserved to be recognized. We feel that representing our community through literature - in all of its forms - is a great way to express our individuality and be heard.

WillPower

by Xavier Seibel

When you go on a run

When you ask your crush out

When you get up every time you fall

Its not ignorance

Its not stupidity

Its not a hopeless venture

Its not your demons trying to trick you into a false sense of security

Its the most powerful thing any human being can have

The most powerful thing any living creature can use

It what drives us to do good

To do bad

To take risks

To make innovations

To challenge tyranny

Even when things seem hopeless

When it looks like there is no way out

Its always there

My Poetry

By Ana Escobar

I’ve always been short, silent, small

I’ve never stood strong, proud, or tall

I’ve never been armed with strength or pride

This is the story of my life:

My poetry’s my life

Because my life’s my poetry

I stuff everything I can in words

To make more space in me

The rhyme makes people listen

The words make people see

The rhythm gets to fixing

Something broken inside me

It used to be a talent

Just a talent, nothing else

Then others took notice

Made fun of me for it

And those jokes made me think to myself:

What if I could lose this pressure

Without ever losing my mind?

What if beneath these untamed emotions

There’s something I’m destined to find?

So I searched for the words that I couldn’t have said

And frantically wrote them,

And read and reread

A breath of relief

From the weight off my chest

And something so others

Might e’er understand

Pianoforte

By Ana Escobar

But you play my chords

And you play them loud

And I dare not flinch at the thunderous sound

But when yours are played

In a heartless pound

You sulk and search for a pity crowd

But it's over now

Now I'm done with this

We'd have had a chance if you'd tried to fix

All the things you do

And the things you don't

But you must not care cause you clearly won't

I could try to break you

I could try to stay

But I feel that it’s best now

To just walk away.

Tattoo

by Jason Cucalon

Cold and distant

That is how we are in atmospheres most unfamiliar

But even the frost permeates the liveliest skin

And so we live in the dark corners of every room

Illuminated by fireflies

Even the angels cannot find us

But the joy found in this short ride is worth the pain soon benign

Even if we’re bound by fate to soon go

At least destiny intertwined our ways for a breath not so cold

Even if its as temporary as those pink sticky notes

No one is afraid of the heat

Until the burning seeps into stinging blisters

Yet if we dive in a body of water

Us returning to the surface we cannot promise

As fast an eagle’s flight

Or as softly and gentle as processed wool

Did we understand each other like fools

Absorbing a grain of knowledge

When we have traversed through the mountains top

While becoming common with the valleys below

That fleeting feeling of lost

As unaware of its vivid pattern as a decorated moth

You’ll probably be haunting me like any other ghost

Yet the words that come with your voice

Lines of a sweet symphony

Only written but never spoken

The evidence of you couldn’t fit enough into your sticky notes

The disruption in a softly written song

Although yours is also that of sorrow

Like mine my harmony will be

Excited for the routine to which I’m linked

The verses and breaks that could be made with you

Even if the timer continued to run forward

Wasted time I can only regret later

As I sit here in a blaze of thoughts blocked by muddled energy

While I find the enjoyment combust

All while I inscribe a faint history worth of memories

It remains eons away of those written monstrosities

I recalled your name

Yet I felt a faint call when I saw your face

Even if I assumed that “I don’t know you”

Leaving your mark like an imprint on my brain

You are stuck to me like an adhesive

Yet in a moment we will be the past in an instant

All while your remembrance is embraced

Such as that of a permanent tattoo

Loneliness had never felt so distant

Spaces away I may still be weaved upon its frigid hold

I, the loner yearning for your companionship

Irony produced into those who grin empty feeling

Let it be their best entertainment

But let it rest happily with the same sensation as it was once engraved

Ageless ingrains such as the umbra ink imprinted on my brain and your skin

In contrast to the only reminisced yet cherished and present sticky notes

Save as Draft

By Jason Cucalon

Running towards the future did those innocent melodies

Those people charging against the bellowing winds

Yet when it comes to symphonizing with a choir of my own voices

I should have been singing our faults

It was better than you screaming my already recognized flaws

I could hear you

It was just… simply a case to where I no longer cared for you

This is not some tape where you can fade my fear into mute mumbles

Or a tape where you can skip past this part

The part where you learn

You are the reasons that my eyes have changed

From Amber to Red fueled rage

But don’t be so worried

Because when it comes to playing your game

You will be reminiscing on pupils lost in fear you had drawn towards you

Linked to you once safe in past days

The stars we once stared at as they became novas

Under true prescience until it was altered

Once I hailed a breath of clarity that was incased within your words

Even if it was the future that was unknown

I am aware of the valley sunken delving further and further

Just as I was sure that you loved me until I was ‘not good enough’ for you

But I still walk upon these fields of aspirations in the form of fleeing dandelions

While you are pulling yourself away from the rubbles that you left in your dawning

Finding to be lost is what made you better

Meanwhile I left something that made me a shuddered sun to a masking moon

For so much time

By the end of the day

Another broken song, another completed cycle I could not escape of

I hoped to make sense of what you were

Yet you were the same as those siren songs in tales I could only barely bother to rely upon

Fall to when it came to pondering on my sorrowing choices

You were the inspiration I had relied upon

Mostly when I had to pity none other than myself

A collection of sheets now just victims to the roaring, freeing currents swallowed by the frigid tides

Perhaps I see now that I had to leave you

To finally hear genuine words that we hadn’t covered with unsettling laughs

Such as words of blown repentance

Or even words such as “I love you”

All under the strangling air

Holding our hands when we were happily out of reach

Or rather

It was that presence that held onto us when we could no longer feel for each other

Gazing at these things

Only then was I afraid to break a heart

A hollowed one that was never hesitant to commit such crimes

I am just singing songs of farewell

Once I lived those painted sceneries

Or dreamt of the perfect end of dusk before dawn

Yet I couldn’t envision your face in those built longings

That have should have been my signal

To never return to your bed

Or to have gotten out of these sheets

Just know that to me you are nothing but dead

Forgotten Sun

By Marcelo Malferrari

How do you do anything when there’s nothing you can do at all?

When the words you speak carry the weight of feathers

That float in and out the ears of those they’re meant for

Of who do not believe in the weight words have

Who resign to apathy, terror crashing over and over, again and again

Unwavering, incomprehensible, dread lurking with each one

Extinguishing the flames every person holds within themselves

Their cold husks unable to dream

What is there to do for them?

Anything.

For you to do what you can

I tell you not to light away their dreary endless fog

Or guide their ship of trouble out their sea of hardships

Nor force their frown upside down.

Simply exist with them

Like a moth’s flame

And bequeath to them the light you find in your days

And let it make ripples in their ponds

To help them find their own light

For how can you know the sun when you’ve lived an eternal gray

3 Poems of a Lonely Writer

By Isabella Pete

I stand amongst the ashes

Of my past troubles

I see you amongst the smoke

From the bundle of flames

You left me stranded

Begging for you to return

Does love make desperation look less childish?

I realized I truly didn’t need your attention once I started caring for my child-like nature

Hold my hand and prey for yourself

As once you let go,

You’ll never see me again

I am free from you,

Yet feel so exhausted

From the pain left after those punches

Nothing feels better than the stinging

Open up my lungs, you won't see my fears

I stay far from you

My safety is my biggest concern.

Untitled

By Abby Peterson

did you see her eyes ablaze

like a match to gasoline

the built up tension

you forgot to mention

that it's breaking her like a twig

so sick of hearing their lament

a stoic

a strong warrior

enduring the battles

that slowly break her down

men, they think they can speak for her

they're hardly men

pushing her out

invalidating her words

her transparency

they attempt to shut her down

but she doesn't have a switch

she's an ever glowing aura

to bright to burn out

she'll set the world on fire

with her anger

her kindness

her love for others

the flint and steel

to the dry brush

The Rise and Fall of Mario

by Ivan Panov

In the first part of the story, Mario and Luigi work together to defeat Bowser and his army, resulting in Bowser's death. However, Princess Peach, who had admired Mario for his bravery before, becomes disillusioned with him due to his violent actions. Meanwhile, Luigi, who had long been in love with Peach, finally confesses his feelings to her and they agree to marry, withLuigi becoming the new king of the Mushroom Kingdom.

However, Bowser's son, Bowser Jr., takes over the Koopa Troop and declares his intention to take vengeance on those who have betrayed him and his family. He struggles to gain the respect and loyalty of his subjects, but a long-time advisor named Cody warns him that he needs to give more power to the senate or risk losing his position.

Mushroom Kingdom had a hope that people would prosper and avoid any fear that they had a few years ago against the Koopa Empire. However, one day tragedy struck the Mushroom Kingdom when Queen Peach fell ill and passed away. The kingdom was thrown into mourning, and the citizens were unsure of what would happen next. In the midst of this turmoil, a new leader emerged - Mario. Mario had

almost always been a loyal subject of Queen Peach, but he saw an opportunity to take over the kingdom and seize power for himself. He convinced the citizens that he was the only one capable of leading the new republic in the absence of the beloved princess while Luigi was forced to abdicate.

At first, Mario's rule seemed promising. He promised to continue Queen Peach's legacy and to govern with fairness and compassion. People liked him because he was adamant to restore order and he executed the traitors such as Wario. However, as time went on, his true nature was revealed.

Mario was not the benevolent leader he had claimed to be. He was ruthless and power-hungry, and he cared only about consolidating his own power.

Under Mario's rule, the Mushroom Kingdom became a place of fear and

oppression. The citizens were afraid to speak out against him, for fear of retaliation. Mario's army of Goombas and Koopa Troopas roamed the streets, enforcing his rule with an iron fist. Mario also began to amass a great deal of wealth for himself. He hoarded coins and treasures, while the citizens of the kingdom struggled to make ends meet. He built himself a grand castle, while many of his subjects were homeless and starving. Mario also sent his men to hunt and assassinate his brother Luigi, as he had no heart to care.

As the years went by, it became clear that the Mushroom Kingdom was no longer the peaceful and prosperous place it had once been. The citizens longed for the return of Queen Peach and the days when the kingdom was ruled with kindness and compassion. However, Mario meets his end after 25 years of oppression in Mushroom Republic as someone hacked the Mushroom Republic, showing leaked footage of Mario’s secret palace. It was a dark day in the Mushroom Kingdom when news of Mario's death spread. The once-beloved hero had become a tyrant, ruling with an iron fist and showing no mercy to those who dared to oppose him. In the end, it was during a heated confrontation with a group of rebels on trial that Mario met his untimely end. As he stood atop a high platform, shouting orders and

brandishing his weapon, he lost his balance and fell to his death, plummeting to the ground far below. Some say it was divine justice, while others mourned the loss of a once-great hero who had fallen from grace. The story highlights the consequences of violence and the importance of responsible leadership, as well as the possibility of unexpected love and alliances.

Untitled

By Savannah Langley

Cold, Dark Streets Packed With Snow

by Isabella Pete

The Bronx gets especially cold during December, as the ice tends to settle in unnatural heaps across the streets and the rats hide away in hopes of surviving the deadly chills. Through the darkness of the street, dimly lit by lights older than the many families that have inhabited the broken-down apartments within the projects- a young girl wanders aimlessly.

She follows the voices that convince her she is on a quest to seek help, a quest that even she herself knows nothing about. The voices and people she sees tend not to be real, but she can not ignore them as they will only grow louder- oftentimes becoming angry and scary to her.

Behind the girl follows her sister, toughened by the long nights of chasing and the even longer days of standing up to the cruel bullies from their prestige all-girls Catholic school, she hopes her sister will just listen to her and come home for the night. Fear setting in as it only grows colder, knowing her sister is only in her nightgown. Fearing that someone would see her wandering barefoot and mumbling incoherently. As she follows after her she starts to pray to some higher power, anything that could come to their aid.

She knows her mother tires after working three jobs to keep food on the table. She wishes her father had never left them. Her two brothers were of no use as they ran through the streets, enjoying their youth while she made sure everything was in order. She made sure her mother had some form of help, knowing she was holding herself together just as much as the sisters had been.

Simply knowing they were struggling was no new information to the girl. As she laid her sister down after successfully getting her home with minor scrapes she wished for a way to get out of that ratty little apartment.

She hoped for a day when her mom wouldn't have to overwork herself, where her sister could finally receive help for an illness she never deserved, and where her brothers would stop causing trouble.

She knew she would get there, she just had to be patient.

1. Sh*t.
1. What am I supposed to write about "empower"?
   
2. When have I ever even felt empowered?
   
3. It would be far easier to write about all the times I've felt the opposite
   
2. Father is driving. I sit next to him, in the passenger seat, trying to come up with a topic of discussion because we share no interests and I haven't seen him in three months and maybe he should just drive so we don't get hit and maybe, and maybe, and maybe, and maybe I don't say anything. But I do, because uncomfortable silence is worse than uncomfortable conversation. "Do you think there will be a female president in my lifetime?" This is something I had been thinking about for a while.
1. 
   
2. "No."
   
3. 
   
4. It was silent from then on. Because though silence may not be better, I will be constantly silenced as a woman, and must get used to it now.
   
3. The mirror was made to judge yourself in
1. I have never stood in front of my mirror for anything other than thinking "this doesn't look good enough."
   
4. Look around at people in positions of authority and power. Do they look like you?
1. They don't look like me.
   
5. My hands are too small, and my nose is too round, and my arms are placed incorrectly and my eyes are lopsided and my hairline isn't even and some days I just wake up looking green, or yellow, and I have scars everywhere and…
6. My brother is asked to carry the heaviest load of groceries
1. I carry the bag that has the cereal, crackers, and chips, the most calories, the lightest one
   
2. He is he
   
3. I am her.
   
7. I hope one day little girls never have the experience of thinking they are ugly. I remember the very first time I thought so
1. That thought crushed me.
   
8. I slouch too much, according to my father
9. Protagonists take their glasses off
1. Every single time
   
2. In pop culture, a girl feels most beautiful and powerful when she can't see herself.
   
1. I look like an alien with or without
   
10. I think to myself "they don't care about you, they don't care about you, they don't care about you, they don't care about you, they don't care about you"
11. This mantra is not meant to bring me down. It is meant to say that it does not matter how silly I look, or how hideous I am, or how insane I seem, because people will not be paying attention to me. They have their own lives and their own thoughts and their own fears and their own priorities, none of which involve me.
12. I can go outside and dance in the rain and feel happy and beautiful if I so wish, because no one else will care or feel how I feel, except for me.
13. I think my shoulders are quite nice, though. You could probably form a perfect log equation around them (which I think everyone would agree is the goal)
14. I have a pair of brown pants that fit me perfectly, no matter how much I've eaten.
15. Forest Green and Honey Yellow and Bronze Orange and Spice Brown
1. Colors I wear far too often
   
1. but they are comfortable
   
2. I feel powerful in Forest, Honey, Bronze, and Spice
   
1. They feel like me
   
16. Perhaps I am too loud, or too fast, or too tall, or too stupid, or too ugly, or too slouchy, or…
17. But I do eat any food I please
1. Not caring about calories
   
2. Not caring about unhealthiness
   
3. Only caring about taste
   
4. And happiness
   
18. I was taking a walk yesterday
1. It was 7pm and I was tired and procrastinating and needed to get away
   
2. A woman stopped me
   
3. Said "excuse me, but I think you're very pretty"
   
4. And I just about died inside
   
19. I think I've only ever been stopped to tell me I was doing something wrong
20. How do people feel empowered in a world that was seemingly made to tell us everything we are doing is wrong?

Staff Page

Special

Thanks

We thank Mr. Hannon, our sponsor for the Literature Magazine, for being such a great inspiration during this whole year and always being such a supportive role in both our lives. We truly could not imagine any success happening without the help of Mr. Hannon and his goofy self. Even though he is constantly nagging about deadlines and Starbucks, we still love and appreciate everything he does! Shout out to our favorite English teacher, Brian Hannon.