Vineland Public Library

Teen Talk

The Young Adult Literary Newsletter

• Teen Talk 2001

Teen Writing Contest

Library’s Teen Writing Contest winners announced

The Vineland Public Library has announced the winners for its Teen Writing Contest. Poems and short stories written by anyone ages 13 to 18 were eligible. The library received 15 entries.

First prize for each category was $25 cash provided by the Friends of the Vineland Public Library and publication of the winning entries in The Daily Journal's "Neighbors" section. Second prize was a $20 gift certificate to the Cumberland Mall. Third prize was three free passes to USA Grand Slam Cinema in Vineland. Prizes were compliments of the Friends of the Vineland Public Library, the Cumberland Mall and USA Grand Slam Cinema in Vineland. All winners will be published in "Teen Talk," the library's young adult literary newsletter.

All winners live in Vineland unless otherwise noted. The winners are as follows: ·

1st Prize, Poetry-Jacqueline Marquez, 13, Orlando, Fla. (formerly Vineland) "I Love You"

2nd Prize, Poetry, Samantha Braidi, 13, "September 11, 2001"

3rd Prize, Poetry, Joshua Bocher, 15, "Untitled"

1st Prize, Short Story -- Evelyn Duffy, 16, "Trumpeting Harris"

2nd Prize, Short Story - Raquel Gonzalez, 16, "The Coffeehouse"

3rd Prize, Short Story - Danielle Trucano, 17, "War Without Peace"

Teen Talk

Teen Talk at the Vineland Public Library gives local teenagers the opportunity to express their creativity and see their writing published.  Teen Talk is distributed for free at the library. Teen Talk is edited by Head of Children's and Young Adult Services Helen Cowan Margiotti.

• Teen Talk Jan/Feb 2001

• Teen Talk March/April 2001

• Teen Talk May/June 2001

• Teen Talk July/Aug 2001

• Teen Talk September/October 2001

• Teen Talk November/December 2001 (Special issue--contest winners)

Teen Talk July/August 2001

Never the Same

by Becky D.

You came into my life one day

Expecting a good friend

But never did it occur to you

That your lies would make it end

I've tried and tried to keep you near

But we've drifted far apart

The pain I feel is torturing

Like knives into my heart

You were always someone I adored

I thought you knew that well

Then the day you turned against me

I felt I’d gone to hell

It sickens me to think that you

Could treat me like you did

But once the problems confronted you

Behind your lies you hid

You were a jerk you must admit

And now I'm gone for good

Because you lied you lost a friend

I just wish you understood

by Jennifer Rose Confalone

Teen Talk May/June 2001

Fish on A Hook

by Liza Monroy

I may look blank and I may look vacant

I'm a vacuum

looking for something to fill up my space

Do you have what I need

I'm staring at you and I'm asking you do you have it?

Turning Away

by Jennifer R. Confalone

You call out to me

I turn away

Your on your knees

Starting to beg

"I’m sorry," you say,

"Give me another chance"

I simply smile and walk away

You reach out

And grab my hand

I turn around and watch you freeze.

Your eyes widen in shock

As the hilt of your knife

Is sticking out of my chest

I smile and tug

The knife comes cleanly out

And simply slides into your heart…

I wake up screaming;

Feeling for you next to me

I realize…

I am alone in the dark.

Say Goodbye

by Jennifer R. Confalone

Say it…

Say it…

"For once," she said

"Say how you feel"

Say it…

Say it…

"Tell me now," she said

"Or I’m gone"

Say it…

Say it…

"What is wrong with you?"

She said as she slammed the door

Say it…

Say it…

"Too late"

"I’m saying goodbye"

Say it…

Say it…

"I love you" he says

As he cries.

Only Me

by Jennifer R. Confalone

Give me your heart

Say you love me

Give me the truth

Because you know I love you.

I’ve never given up,

Believing in your love.

Even though you had said

Our connection wasn’t enough.

Then one day

You strolled back in

A smile on your face.

That’s good and all I know,

But you haven’t said

What I wanted to hear.

Tell me you mean it

Tell me you care

Tell me when I look in your heart

I will be the only one there.

I Always Get A Window Facing the Sun

by Liza Monroy

I always get a window facing the sun

facing the drinker the minor

wanting me to open my lids

He thinks he's so beautiful

and everyone knows it

Leave it up to him and his R and B

he may have a vintage car

but his Firestone tires won't

get him far

He could spread the butter on and

scrape off all the crust

Always the first one there

but last off the bus

invading

numerous ladies

agree

he has a big mouth

but he keeps it clean

A microphone between

his knees and teeth

like an Adonis

You're my favorite one

I always get a window facing the sun

I'll warm your alcohol

You remind me so much of mom

makes me smile

I'd give it all up for you anything at all

Last

by Benediza Shortt A.K.A Melissa Areland

I must win this race

Be the second in any case

Spread these wings and fly away

Be first to wake and greet the day

To watch the moon from outside my room

First to see a bright star

Though it is so far

Pick the first beautiful flower

Dance in the first April shower

Prove to the world all my power

See the new budding grass

Look at my reflection through clear waters like glass

Make for myself a new birth

And fully realize all my worth

Be rid of the guilt and shame in my past

To face the world and not be masked

Feel white snow fall on my face

Know I am a sinner saved by grace

To look at a mirror and

Have no fear

Of what has become of me

Discover what it is that makes us free

Send an everlasting message in a bottle and seal it with a cork

Just better my work

Climb my very own mountain

Be refreshed from my fountain

Handle my problems

Even learn to solve 'em

Lay in a mound of cool soft dirt

Find a way to control my hurt

Follow my heart

Willingly make a new start

To cope with disappointments and still have class

Have pride in being a lass

To win this race I'm sure I must be fast

That is why I worry

Will I be last

Teen Talk March/April 2001

Weather

 By Lisa Vermillion

 The wind is mourning.

It shrieks in anguish and howls in rage

for things lost long ago against

Any lone traveler stranded without shelter.

The sky is sobbing.

It sleets and snows,

Its face dark and clouded like

Figures languishing in wait for their lovers’ return.

The sun is angry.

It beats down mercilessly

Trying to bake anything that

Dares try to move in the blazing bright heat.

The rain is healing.

It falls gently upon the earth,

Soothing and caressing

With its soft pitter-patter and quiet slosh.

The earth is forgiving.

Like a mother tending to her children,

She may be angry.  But have no fear,

For the rain will return all to her good graces.

Never Was Meant

By Lorraine Montalvo

It’s been here with me and it’s not going away

I want to remove it but it sinks deeper

I’ve been here with it hating it for being here

it—inhabits me but I don’t know where

A long time ago, I loved you

when you were me

and now you’ve changed

And I’m not you

So, where does that leave me?

You went away and left me here with it

and now I have no choice but to live with

this everyday this disgust this lust but alas no love

A long time ago, you drew me in

but forever after, you happily push me away

no I am in between

just like I was before you came

nothing at all

Giving Up Then Giving In

by Rose

Giving up was what I thought

Would be the best for me

I had fallen too hard

And fallen too fast

Got hurt, I didn’t know what to do

Letting go of him

I thought I had to let go of love

Never trying or even looking

For another chance.

You popped out of my past

Into a new future

And soon I looked at you

In another light.

You gave me hope

You gave me trust

And you gave me a chance

Giving up was not right for me

But giving in to love was true.

You Have My Heart

By Rose

Hold my hand once more

I want to feel your touch

You’re leaving so soon

It hurts to know.

But I will reluctantly let go

Because I know you will return

To me and only me.

I want to feel you next to me

I want to hear you breathe

Lying silently next to me

I want you to have me.

I’ve given you trust

I’ve given you love

And you’ve returned both in kind.

I handed over my heart

As I was loathe to do

But now I’m happy, nervous and scared

Because I know I love you.

 Carpe Diem

by Evelyn Duffy

Go them, if you dare.

Go and dream,

Brave the ones

Who close their eyes

Against the beauty of the world.

Dare to dream, and dare

To bring your dreams back with you.

Dare to think, and dare to believe

That there is greatness to

Light the dark.

Dare to laugh and to cry and to roar.

Dare to read and speak and listen.

Dare!

Dare the dangers and the beauty!

Dare to see past all the lies

And dare to know that they will

Be swept from your path as swiftly

As the wind moves sand.

Dare to suffer silently so that all

Might know peace.

Dare to fly.

Dare to believe with all your heart

That there is truth, and there is

Beauty, and there is a greatness!

Dare to be loyal, dare to be true,

Dare to love that which should be loved.

All-American Teen

by Danielle Trucano

I hate the way people think you’re better just because of how you dress

I hate that they can’t see you for who you really are.

We get the names like "Crackhead"

That truly,

should refer to you

The parents and teachers believe your cover

While we see right through it.

To them you are the picture perfect, All-American Teen

But they don’t see what goes on behind the scenes.

They don’t see the insecurity, addictions, and problems

They think they see in us.

I hate that people look past us

Right to you

In you they see angels and innocence

In us they see trouble and depravity.

Despite these things I hate

Most of all I hate that to them you’re better than me

Because to them you’re just the

All-American Teen they see.

Teen Talk January/February 2001

night dancer I watch you from afar

entering a garden of black

you’re insane, profane, and stained

never talking always dancing

to a silent symphony

black roses glittering seem to reflect

your pain

your fate is to hate the day world

you cry as you dance

you cry as you realize it is another day

so you take your bow

the show is over

dancer of the night

I’ll watch you forever more

The Married Man

by Rose

He breaks the silence

I look up

Hopeful of

What he might say.

He talks of the weather

We talk of the news

And my heart

Is left empty.

Why doesn’t he care?!

Why can’t he see?

That I love him

And I want him

To love me

Love me with the passion

I’ve always felt for him

And not leave me bereft

Even in my sin.

The Orphan Train

by Rose

The road goes on

And on and on

The wagon bumps

The baby wails.

The dust is choking me

And the wind

Almost knocks me away

I’m only 15

Why am I here?

Just because my mom

Decided to give me away.

"I can’t take care of you"

Were her words

So she decided

To put me on

This godforsaken orphan train

I pick up the baby

Wishing my world away

Whilst in the midst

of these children

All my hope flies away.

I’ll never go home again

And I’ll always

Shoulder this pain

While I have to

Look to my future

As I continue

In this wagon

On the orphan train.

To graduate from high school is a very important and joyous occasion for the young person graduating. For those who must stand by and watch, however, it can quickly become depressing.

Picture a graduation party, a month or so following the actual ceremony, where there is a grill, and hot dogs, and a cake that says "Congratulations!" in bold icing letters. At one spot in the yard, the graduate and her friends may be found lounging, hiding, though they disguise it, from the adults who always want to talk about college and money and careers, and laugh over things that were far more amusing just a few months earlier. They are still coming to terms with two facts: the first being that they are free; under the law of country, then family, they can no longer be constrained from following the path they chose. The second fact, which only the wisest come to fully appreciate, is that an episode in their life has come to an end. The child is no longer a child, but has yet to prove herself as an adult. To prove this, she must leave all that she has known, or must decide never to leave all that she has known. This is an extreme choice, but the age of graduating is an extreme age. It is a turning point, as well as a stopping point, a beginning, as well as an ending. After this extreme age, nothing will ever be the same again, because for the first time the child-adult must pave her way without the sturdy comfort of family, security, and all that is not the wild Unknown.

Through simple jokes and comments, the graduates say what are to be their true farewells. Certainly, tears will be shed and stifled over the months to come, as one then another boards a train, climbs into the cab of a rental truck, sets down in the back of the family car, and pulls away from the ones still behind. However, these last, gentle, almost reverent looks over the past are also the last common thread that these friends have been able to delay snapping. Because they know, deep in their hearts, that it cannot and must not live forever, this final salute is a friendly and casual one, made easy and painless for all.

At the other end of this brilliant spectrum disguised as a party stand the adults. Old, middle age, and young stand about, pretending to talk business or politics, work or weather, but really watching with an unexplained pleasure the hopeful group of young people. They remember, often without meaning to, when they had sat apart and said the same and thought the same and felt the same as the ones they watched now. A few of the nostalgic wonder where their own youth had gone, and a few of the cynics wonder how long the graduate’s youth can last. The wise, though there are not many here, wonder if youth can’t last forever, and if it can’t, if it can pass without regret and bitterness, without ghosts pulling themselves out of memory and anger leaping out of age.

The parents are a small group to themselves; they are blinded tonight by the same thing that has let them see and learn so much about the world. They are blinded by hope and love for the child, for to them she will always be their child; they hope for so much love in her life, they love all the hope she has of her own. The parents will always watch and wait with a light in the window, while the others will go home and forget the glimpse of the past, and the future, they have seen this night. The parents love, and will always be loved.

Here you have seen the ends of the spectrum; the future and the past, hope and memories. But, as you always must, you look deep into the center--there is someone there. Someone who is just beginning to realize that someday the future will be hers, someone who is just beginning to feel that she may one day regret what she does or does not do during the course of her life. This person, this child, this one who looks beyond her years and does not yet know whether to be terrified or joyous, this is myself. The following is a very short story. It is the story of a graduating high school senior, and myself. I do not believe it will grow in the telling, but certain events must be changed for the purpose of privacy and the purpose of concealing from the reader that I, the author, do not remember in great detail every part, important or otherwise, of that long night.

At the time this story begins, I had ended my freshman year of high school and was eagerly awaiting my sophomore one. The summer was a lazy one, as the best summers often are, but I had been active on the volunteering front, and I knew that by next summer, my sixteenth, it would be high time for me to get a job. That sixteen was the earliest age the government let a person become employed meant little to me; I simply knew that when the next twelve months had passed by and I smelled June approaching again, I would begin to work.

I knew a lot, after my first year of high school; certainly, I knew dates and names and rules of grammar, but I also had learned a lot about human nature, and how people worked. What I knew best was that I knew almost nothing; that what I knew was just the tip of the iceberg.

The eldest daughter in a family that had been friends with my parents for longer than I’d been alive was ending her senior year as I was ending my freshman one. My family was invited to the graduation party in early July; we attended, and came early to help. As I set out cups and straitened searing trays of pasta, I found myself wondering what it was going to be like, three years from that night, when I was the one the guests were coming for and the one whose name was on the cake. I couldn’t help but wonder how I would face the challenges that would arise in my life; whether I would be alone or among friends, what the memories of my life would hold, what my hopes would be. These wonderings would cling to my mind the rest of the night, deepening as the darkness did.

When people began to arrive, I socialized, but my heart was not in it. It rarely is; I am not known for my skills as a "people person". I chatted with some teachers I knew who had been invited, and with adults who were old friends I had not seen in several years and probably wouldn’t see again for several more. I avoided the seniors. They were a class to themselves, and they were concerned with telling stories they all knew by heart, laughing, remembering, not really thinking about anything, having the last fun they would have while their group was made up of the same members it’d had for the past four years. It was not a place for me, a lowly freshman and a stranger to all but a few in that group, to intrude, and I respected that. There were sophomores there, people closer to my age with whom I felt slightly more comfortable, but I knew only one: the younger of the family’s two daughters. We had always been friends, but never as close as I might have wished. So, I did not approach that group either.

This left me with the company of the adults, or myself. I chose to wonder alone. I don’t know how long I walked in circles among the trees, just that when I became aware of the time again it was dusk. The last rays of golden light filtering through the leaves made me feel suddenly lonely. I headed back to the people and the lights spread out on the lawn.

The sophomores came over to me, and telling me I shouldn’t be standing alone, invited me along with their group. I went, not quite knowing why, except that they had asked me to.

Several hours later, I was tracked down by my father. He found me, still with that group of girls, and enjoying myself. They were fun to talk with, though I felt occasionally out of things because I was not part of their day-to-day lives. These girls had been friends for a long time; I was just a one-night interloper.

My father had me come into the house with him so we could present our gifts to the guest of honor, the graduate. We’d gotten her art for her college dorm room; it was as she unwrapped the posters and praised them and thanked us that the thoughts that had been running through my mind suddenly collided. This girl, whom I had known my entire life, was soon going to leave. When she came back, my mind whispered, then screamed, she would be completely changed. I was overwhelmed with pride at what she was going to go on to do and become, and what she had done to reach the position she was in that night. As she left the house to rejoin her friends, I knew that before we left that night I would have to talk to her myself and tell her how glad I was for her. In the meantime, I rejoined the group of sophomores.

Later, as my parents were trying to find my brother in the dark yard, I waited in the dining room that was adjacent to the den where the graduate sat, surrounded by her friends. What I needed to tell her would be difficult enough for me to get past my antisocialness; I didn’t want an audience. What I failed to realize was that while what I had to say needed to be said when she was alone, the night of her graduation party was not one when she would be, or should be, alone. I stood leaning on the back of one of the sturdy wood chairs, a storm raging in my head. I needed to tell her…I needed to tell her how happy and proud I was, and how much I hoped I would be as fortunate in the next few years as she had been, and how coming to her party had given me a bright view of the future that felt so far away but in reality was coming quicker every day.

I never did get her alone, to tell her all that I needed to. She stayed in the den with her friends, and I would not ask her to leave. My parents located my brother, thanked the graduate’s parents for hosting the party, and ushered me into the car. As we drove away, I could do nothing but regret an opportunity that, to be fair, was not one I had missed as I usually did. It was one, I concluded, that had simply not existed.

Weeks passed, and I no longer felt the powerful intensity of emotion I had that night. Such things can only happen to a young person on a humid July evening, and part of the magic of those nights is that the recollection of them fades quickly. Still, I hoped for another evening much like that one, only more personal, three years from then. When the hope and the love would be my own, and I’ll have found my place in the spectrum.

Thee Destination

by Chantele Serrano

‘Tis thee I see,

Walking across the desolate sea,

The earth trembled at thy beckoning, mountains moveth at thy presence,

Animals listened and obeyed thee

The sun shined as brightly as could be,

The moon radiated at thy beckoning,

The waves clashed against thy rocks,

Heaven’s eyes looketh upon the world,

The world is only but a grain of sand in thy hands,

May I fathom how big or deep thee can be,

May I reach you with a touch of my hand,

‘Tis thee with me,

‘Tis thee walking with me along the

path of righteousness,

In a blink of an eye I see thee,

Art thou appearing in my dreams?

Helping me and teaching me subconsciously,

I love thee and I thank thee!

Death Passes Over

by Rose

Have you not felt it?

Have you not

Felt his touch?

Death, enemy or friend?

Either way,

If you haven’t felt him

Then you are lucky.

Too many times

Has death passed over me

And touched my friends.

Always leaving them weak

And horribly vulnerable.

Leave us alone, Death!

Let me and my friends

ALONE!!!

If you’ve never felt death

Then you’ve had no grief.

Be grateful for your life

And pray he passes…

Pray that Death will

Leave you alone.

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Censorship

by Rose

Alone in a room

With no way out

No one to talk to

And no one to help

Locked up

Because of something I said?

What do they expect,

I’m a teenager

I say what goes through my head.

So what?

So I said

I don’t believe your god?

So what?

That I said,

I don’t like your laws?

I don’t agree with you

So of course you must

Immediately criticize my views

I opened my mouth

And truth fell out

So now I am alone

In a room

All by myself

I can’t say anything

You’ve covered my mouth.

by Anonymous

Each night,

you draw me into your darkness

make me forget the life I believe in

you make me think that everything is darkness

and there is no other way.

You all say you are condemned because you’re different

I say you are all the same.

they’ve taught you to believe nothing,

to see no light.

If your life is hopeless it is because

you do not know hope is there.

You blame me because I smile.

My life, like yours, is not all smiles-

but I smile because it is the right thing to do.

I have plans--I have hopes--I have dreams.

I have a soul, and what’s more, I know it.

I don’t talk about drowning it, or smothering it,

or slitting its wrists.

I believe that there is a God out there, and there

are reasons for being a good person.

I believe you should believe whatever you want.

I don’t believe I should tell you to believe what I do.

I believe you should extend the same courtesy to me.

I don’t condemn you--I applaud you, for thinking

outside the lines, for exploring the horizons.

I make choices, as you do.

Don’t step on my soul because you assume I’ll

step on yours.

Don’t be so quick to damn me because those

who came before me damned those who

came before you.

I do not bear their guilt or shame.

I did not commit their crimes; I will not suffer their punishment.

I do not care who you are, or what you believe.

Show me good cause,

and I will go to the end of the earth and back for you.

My loyalty isn’t given lightly, but once you have it

you don’t lose it--even if I should even lose yours.

The world is not a pit of darkness; do not

ridicule me because where you see shadows, I see light;

where I find hope, you see only despair.

Say what you like to me,

if I agree, I will help you; if I disagree, I will not confront you.

Do what you like,

Just don’t step on my soul.

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