Letter From The Editor

Dear Readers,    

March is the favorite month of many students and teachers at NSHAHS. Not only does March promise the warm weather and sunny skies of spring, but it also brings with it Shiriyah and Passover break.

The March issue of The Written Voice celebrates the poetic masterminds of NSHAHS. The issue includes poems from Shiriyah 2013 as well as several poems from a poetry slam that North Shore students attended at SAR High School. Students were required to write a luc bat poem relating to their grade’s theme in their Shiriyah poems which were judged based on thematic content and poetic elements. In addition to free verse poems about Purim, several unique pantoum poems relating to different aspects of religious experience are included from the poetry slam as well.  Take your time reading the poems and finding inspiration to write your own! Please visit our blog for more interactive features of The Written Voice. Enjoy and happy Spring!

                                                                   Sincerely,

                                                                   Anna Hardcastle

Editor-in-Chief

The Luc Bat Form

The Luc Bat

The luc bat is a Vietnamese form of poetry. It means simply 'six eight' due to its pattern of syllables per line: 6,8,6,8,6,8, etc. There is no set length to the luc bat, so it can be as long or as short as you'd like. But what really makes this form interesting is the rhyming structure, which sounds a little complicated but is easy to grasp in practice. The sixth syllable of every eight-syllable line rhymes with the last syllable of the six-syllable line before it, which in turn rhymes with the eighth syllable of the eight-syllable line before it. When the end of the poem is reached, the last line jumps back and rhymes with the first. Each of the following luc bats relate to the assigned Shiriyah theme for the grade.

Childhood

9^th Grade Theme: Childhood

By Neda Shokrian

6- There is a cycle that

8- We can’t truly get at and change

6- For it’s frankly quite strange,

8- Yet already arranged. From our

6- time of youth, there’s power

8- selected to tower through those

6- who live life like a rose.

8- Before blossom, he knows that he

6- can still mess up, yet be

8- beautiful and still then see how

6- that moo of G-d made cow

8- is miraculous now, and will

6- gaze in awe at Brazil

8- because children are still filled in

6- like joke books that begin

8- where an author has been but not

6- where a child will spot.

8- just because the youth rot, it still

6- can not remove the thrill

8- that without fail will mill always.

Courtship & Marriage

10^th Grade Theme: Courtship & Marriage

By Rebecca Rosen

It was the first of June

And as the clock strikes noon I see

Standing right before me

Beautiful as can be it’s her

All else becomes a blur

My thoughts began to stir they were

A jumble and a slur

No one else I’d prefer but sam

As fragile as a lamb

A little push, oh damn! A shove

A new gift from above,

My lord, this must be love! I swoon

Her eyes, heavenly stars

No longer I find found cars so fine

Because she is divine

All else became sheer swine so why

As ten months ticked on by 

I knew but not to cry so she

While I’m down on one knee

said sweet the words to me, “of course!”

And as my voice grows hoarse

I cannot feel remorse it’s love! It’s ours

I stand at the altar

My hopes not to falter, I knew

Said those two words, “I do”

The joy that blew right through my soul

She completes me, we’re whole

But her love took no toll one breath

Do us part until death

And so in that breath, we swore

All troubles out the door , they ran

One day in June it began

Much More powerful than the sea

Love between you and me

If only you could see then wake

Loving you? Piece of cake!

And as the leaves will shake, whisper

Quite a lovely kisser

Misses to my mister I know

That even as the snow

And wind screams and blows too hard

And the scotching sun charred

The earth, it’s now so scarred and worn

Our son, finally born

The seasons leave us torn but still

Our love, it must, it will

Fight any storm or chill, a dove

Pure white, just like our love!

Raising Children

11^th Grade Theme: Raising Children

By Anna Hardcastle

  

A mass of love so strong

And they waited so long for her

Then, finally, she stirs

With her eyes of azure and she

Smiles with such great beauty.

Her mom stares happily, she shines

As she tickles her spine.

So peaceful, so benign- they blink

Now she’s five, dressed in pink

And they can’t help but think, five years-

Gone far too fast as feared.

Now she’s ten, she has tears- she fell

Off her bike and she yells

She doesn’t feel so well. Her mom

Comes over, keeps her calm.

She’s fifteen, off to prom. “Say cheese.”

They smile big in the breeze

She’s every girl’s envy. And now

Five more years; moving out

They are taking their vows for life.

They say “now she’s a wife

And now it is her life.” Five more,

She has one to adore;

He is already four, so quick.

She asks Mom, “What’s the trick?”

Mom tells her, “Don’t panic, it’s fast

You will wish it would last.”

They reflect on the past with grins

She caused their world to spin

“It’s her from here on in,” they say,

“It went by like a day

But at least we can say she’s great,

After such a long wait,

And now she has to wait, not long.”

Retirement/The Golden Years

12^th Grade Theme: Retirement/The Golden Years

 

Bright, jubilant roses,

My life decomposes to dust,

No desire for lust.

All that remains is trust in her.

I think of what we were,

Some of it is a blur but I

Remember just how shy

She was when I walked by and how

I miss her so much now,

Years after that great vow and still,

Now I feel the same thrill.

She will always fulfill my life.

She is my deceased wife.

I overflow with strife because

Age has given me flaws

And I wish I could pause time and

Place her hand in my hand

And roll around in the sand like we

Used to do by the sea,

Such a sweet memory; alas,

Sad how all things must pass,

A broken blade of grass is me,

Because I am lonely,

And I desperately need my

Wonderful honey pie.

I might begin to cry. She’s like

My other half. I strike

The door and start to hike up the

Mountain which has extra

Sun and a new freesia. I dance

And think of my romance,

All I see in distance- roses.

The Pantoum Form

Pantoum: “The modern pantoum is a poem of any length, composed of four-line stanzas in which the second and fourth lines of each stanza serve as the first and third lines of the next stanza. The last line of a pantoum is often the same as the first.” Each of the following pantoums relates to some aspect of the writer’s personal, religious experience.

The Wedding

The Wedding

By Darby Sinel

  

Looking towards the back of the sanctuary
Her eager presence is felt by all
The lace train flows behind her like the tears in her father’s eyes
A long aisle leads her to this next stage in her life

Her eager presence is felt by all
A collective breath hitches, captivated
A long aisle leads her to this next stage in her life
Well-dressed, the fidgeting groom awaits

A collective breath hitches, captivated
Still, bridesmaids look on like the Queen’s Guards
Well-dressed, the fidgeting groom awaits
Side by side, the rabbi addresses the anxious couple

Still, bridesmaids look on like the Queen’s Guards
Decorated, the chuppa frames the bride and groom
Side by side the rabbi addresses the anxious couple
Praising God for ensuring the sanctity of family

Decorated, the chuppa frames the bride and groom
Onlooking, parents beam in conjunction, full of joy
Praising God for ensuring the sanctity of family
The sound of the glass breaking is lost in the families’ applause

Onlooking, parents beam in conjunction, full of joy
Another stage of life found through God’s guidance, grace
The sound of the glass breaking is lost in the families’ applause
Each moment directing to the path in God’s vision

Another stage of life found through God’s guidance, grace
The newlyweds exit, ecstatic, hand-in-hand
Each moment directing to the path in God’s vision
Looking towards the back of the sanctuary.

Closeness to Our Creator

Closeness to Our Creator

By Arianna Zarka

  

I grasp our last ounce of memory by digging my fingers into the hundreds of crevices,

I adjust my shawl; my shoulders must be covered,

My long skirt looks funny on me but,

We must dress respectfully.

I adjust my shawl; my shoulders must be covered,

I look at the women, all dressed modestly,

We must dress respectfully,

I can’t see my father; there’s a barrier between the men and women.

I look at the women, all dressed modestly,

I ask a woman for her Siddur, she says no; I look for my dad,

I can’t see my father; there’s a barrier between the men and women.

I realize that it might be a good idea to say Shemah, the only prayer I know by heart.

Again, I ask a woman for her Siddur, she says no; I look for my dad,

For a while I couldn’t find him, I still can’t find him,

I realize that it might be a good idea to say Shemah, the only prayer I know by heart,

I draw my body even closer to the withering wall, trying to remember words.

For a while I couldn’t find Him, I still can’t find Him,

It has always been difficult for me to find G-d,

I draw my body even closer to the withering wall, trying to remember words,

Words to prayers from the Siddur and words to my own prayers.

It has always been difficult for me to find G-d,

Today I feel a connection with G-d, maybe the connection is from the,

Words to prayers from the Siddur and words to my own prayers,

Which I am trying to annunciate through my deep sobs.

Today I feel a connection with G-d, maybe the connection is from the,

Tears of praise and hope and the words to my made-up prayers,

Which I am trying to annunciate through my deep sobs,

I feel that my words mean something and that he’s listening and before I take leave,

I grasp our last ounce of memory by digging my fingers into the hundreds of crevices.

Why Remember

Why Remember

By Neda Shokrian

  

Every time I sit at that table,

I think and think and I can’t connect

How does their struggle relate to me?

Why do we remember the exile?

I think and think and I can’t connect.

Why should I remember some slave from years ago?

Why do we remember the exile?

I never asked to be a part of this.

Why should I remember some slave from years ago?

I didn’t agree to become a Jew.

I never asked to be a part of this.

Where is the joy in being a Jew?

I didn’t agree to become a Jew.

Do I want to follow these traditions?

I never asked to be a part of this.

There must be some consolation to remembering these slaves.

Do I want to follow these traditions?

It was such an amazing recovery.

There must be some consolation to remembering these slaves.

They are my family, my own blood.

It was such an amazing recovery.

Never before had they witnessed such a miracle.

They are my family, my own blood.

They are a part of me.

Never before had they witnessed such a miracle.

I realize now how they do represent the joy.

They are a part of me

Every time I sit at that table.

Of Our Essence

Of Our Essence

By Sherry Simkovic

  

The Imposing Wall; ever so omnipotent

Warm to the touch, tingling

Sharp to the mind, probing

A sharp spark down my spine

Warm to the touch, tingling

Looking up at the myriad of building blocks

A sharp spark down my spine

Felt by thousands of people

Looking up at the myriad of building blocks

Thousands of cries

Felt by thousands of people

All poured into a single gesture

Thousands of cries

Impossible to cut through the sea of people

To get close enough to feel its power

Inanimate objects are not supposed to be omnipotent

A crowd gathers every morning and every night

Unity felt, absorbed through the pores

Inanimate objects are not supposed to be omnipotent

Brought together by a single emotion - the need to touch the wall

Unity felt

As much as we do not like to admit it

Brought together by a single emotion – the need to touch the wall

We are gathered here today

As much as we do not like to admit it

But we push and shove to get to the front

We are gathered here today

To have the single moment we so desperately desire amidst all the cries and calls

We push and shove to get to the front

As we come into contact with sharp shoulders and quick elbows to get what we most desire

To have the single moment we so desperately want amidst all the cries and calls

We all have the same need

We come into contact with sharp shoulders and quick elbows to get what we most desire

We stare up at it

We all have the same need

The rays of sunlight merely peering over the ramparts

The Imposing Wall; ever so omnipotent.

I Live in a Glass Box

I Live in a Glass Box

By Sarah Silverstein

We live in a glass box

Subjects to heaven and hell

Are we creatures of free will—

Or merely puppets on a string,

Subjects to heaven and hell

Or merely puppets on a string

Are we creatures of free will?

Or are we brain-washed to fit in?

Merely puppets on a string, no,

I refuse to accept without questioning

Are we creatures of free will?

Who or what is granting me choice?

I refuse to accept without questioning

I know all the answers are bleak—

Who or what is granting me the choice

Or can answer the questions I seek

I know the answers are bleak

But decisions must be made

Who or what is granting me choice?

To live in awe, or to be afraid—

Decisions must be made

I must look within myself

To live in awe or to be afraid

My destiny is mine, my future is not paved

Are we programmed to be this way?

Are we creatures of free will?

The world so cloudy, but one can see through:

We live in a glass box.

The Shabbat Candles

The Shabbat Candles

By Rachel Dynkin

I sit and watch the flames flicker before me

As I reminisce and daydream of the past

Of the first time that I lit Shabbat candles

I ponder the fact that time runs way too fast

As I reminisce and daydream of the past

I think of this Friday night some years ago

I was but a foolish girl of eleven

Back then there was so much I did not know

I think of this Friday night some years ago

And recall that I did not know that I could

Make wishes after saying “lehadlik ner”

Rise for a moment from a world of vice to good

And I recall that I did not know that I could

Come close to God and pour my heart out to Him

And plead forgiveness, health, strength and happiness.

Now my life is filled with prayers to the brim

I just came close to God and poured my heart out

And told him everything I want in my life

I stare into the fire, my childhood image fades.

As my heart whispers one last time God end strife!

The Mask

The Mask

By Rebecca Rosen

Six days of the week we wear a mask

Ever changing, morphing,

But on one day only our true colors show

We take off the mask

Ever changing, morphing,

We look into the eyes of our peers

We take off the mask

This is who they really are

We look into the eyes of our peers

One day of the week, one single day

This is who they really are

True colors show

One day of the week, one single day

The warmth of the candle engulfs us

True colors show

The queen has finally arrived

The warmth of the candle engulfs us

Yes it’s frightening, yes it’s strange

The queen has finally arrived

On this day we celebrate our freedom

Yes it’s frightening, yes it’s strange

The miracle of the minority ever thriving, pulsing, so alive

On this day we celebrate our freedom

And I thank the lord for this day

The miracle of the minority ever thriving, pulsing, so alive

I show my scars, leave them our for everyone to see

And I thank the lord for this day

I take off the mask

I show my scars, leave them our for everyone to see

Yet the sun will always set and rise the next day

I replace the mask

I wish the time wouldn’t come

Yet the sun will always set and rise the next day

I’ll miss this day, just a fading memory but still

I wish the time wouldn’t come

I was me for that one day, and everyone can agree

I’ll miss this day, just a fading memory but still

I took off my mask; I became who I wanted to be,

Alive and completely free

I was me for that one day, and everyone can agree

Six days of the week we wear a mask