top of page

Brrrrr!

We were inspired to create this winter themed webzine by the artwork provided by the Pathways students. Thanks to everyone who submitted. 

Shawn Ward

I Say The Winter Freezes All by Gavin Annis

If you don’t believe in snow, you have to believe

That nothing ever withers away.

Because that’s what snow signifies:

The rot of plants and decay of memory,

Months of the past lost to swirling monotony.

One can go into a form of stasis, losing

Track of goings-on, and when one wakes

The fabric of their life is unraveling, frostbitten.

When I woke, the doctors had me string

Jewelry of dull, rough beads. All white, like the

Walls, like the padded rooms, like the windows.

I ended up with a necklace, just big enough

For me to wear. The doctors immediately took it

And threw me back to my blank, cushioned room.

In this winter of five years, I have forgotten

The sun’s warmth, the leaves’ fall, the flowers of

The spring and summer. I’ve lost all the friends

That I had found, forgotten my purpose here.

The winter in this place has frozen me to my core.

Taylor Whitley

Dying Before Death by John Caron

I know one day I won’t be as active

“I remember back in my day..” they tell me

Most times I drown them out,

But sometimes it depresses me

We all live until we die,

But some die before death

We live for the thrill of youth,

And then we’re disabled by time

Some people are happy with old age,

But some are a living corpse

Without adrenaline,

Without danger,

The radical youth are killed by boredom

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Caitlin Yannizzi

Sean Carney

Shattered by Brianna LaPaglia

There was nothing more devastating

than watching the tears pour out of her eyes

like water falling into a plastic cup from a pitcher.

She was a glass castle shattered like an

ornement falling off a christmas tree.

 

Nobody knew why,

nobody cared to ask.

She was living alone in a world

where happiness is only really shared.

Untitled by Celia Rosa

When the crops died,

I dug my fingers through the soil;

Raked my nails through rocky beds.

I was searching for the water

I knew must still be there.

Shawn Ward

Home by Anonymous

The crisp air travels with the wind,

Creating the door to make an eerie sound.

 

Swiftly moving against the wind.

The sound of water swaying fills the air.

 

Warm sensations are felt,

as pancake mix sizzles on the stove.

 

Knowing this is home.

 

Almost as if there's magic hanging around

from the hard counter tops to the soft curtains.

 

Providing the sense of protection

and love.

 

Brightness comes through the window

with urgency

 

Finished pancakes leave a trail of

sweetness and love.

 

Yousra Bendarkawi

Ryan Mott

Untitled by Kalee Lucier-Hill

I have memories from when I was young,

Memories of you,

Memories of you holding me in your arms,

Memories of the warm simplistic feeling that I felt with you,

Memories of being at home,

Memories of feeling safe,

Memories of being loved.

But those memories of the warm simplistic feeling, turned to stone

And I got ripped from my home.

Brutally tossed into the reality, that nothing good lasts forever,

And safety turns to fear,

And love becomes a labyrinth of complexity.

Memories begin to fade.

Until you are all alone.

The bitter silence, eats at your mind.

Until you have nothing.

Nothing but to be cold.

Nothing but to wish for those memories.

Sean Carney

Untitled by Alyssa Hatch

Do not be afraid

to express what’s inside you.

Every day you’ll find

that through the eyes of strangers

you’re no more than just a face.

Sean Carney

bottom of page