Some of the highlights from the 2012 edition of Collab:
Final Thoughts Contest Winner (Best Entry from a Senior)
Needles & Carnations
by Kerri Biagiotti
Here the life and laughter never cease
Come with us; your old life falls to pieces
Hush, don’t speak, better your life instantly
You’ll fit the mold, and adapt brilliantly.
Delusion your friend; fantasy your home,
Forget all of the things you have been shown.
There’s no feeling like this. Of that I’m sure.
Passion and bliss, this life becomes a blur.
Don’t think about the pain. Now you are here
In our dream world you’ll find nothing to fear.
But this is a gamble; I can’t promise you’ll win.
You’ll only feel numb once it pierces your skin.
Fun withers to fake. Confused, you have lost.
Chained to this new life, you can’t bear the cost
To change. No, it’s too hard. Stay here, you will,
To replenish that love, your next big thrill.
So keep calm and relax, it’s all in good fun.
And don’t you dare stop to think of what you’ve begun.
by Toula Papadopoulos
2011 Poetry Contest Winner
A Poem about My Father’s Opinion on Opinion
By Futaba Shioda
Molecular units in a cellular process,
Ability To Piss off
A Trying Parent
The fruit juice to life!
Fifteen steps to enlightenment
To the = sign
(Too many buttons on the calculator)
127.63± i^89-¥ = x
Negative thirty-four to the eleventh power!
Radical y minus nineteen!
Pi plus i…? Or my foot.
Doubt lest proven
‘Never’ is finite
Mental boxes of
Formulated emotions waiting in scheduled lines,
Everything [except the Republican Party]
17- 4 = truth
Osmosis, mitosis, grammar, and sex.
(13.68 + 2 seconds of silence)
A tranquil light shaft sprinkles across my pencil…what about art?
Pulsating hums in the unexplainable turnings of cosmic strings?
(Pluto falls out of the solar system)
Adapt To Patriarchy.
Art Contest: Top Entry by a Junior
Black and White NYC
by Marissa Coté
2011 Fiction Contest Winner
by Michelle Lee
It is quiet, excluding the leaky sink that drips. The eternal heartbeat of the apartment. She closes her eyes and tries to forget about that fight that happened a couple hours ago. She tries to stop hearing the words he screamed, angrily echoing inside her head. She is careful to step over the broken glass of the picture frame. She is careful to keep from moving too quickly because her body aches. She is careful to ignore looking at the bruises on her arms, blossoming against her skin, where he grabbed too tightly. Again.
“I love you. I love you. I love you.” He would repeat that phrase. Over and over again until she believed it. Until he believed it. Then they wouldn’t fight anymore. They would go back to normal. But then again, what was normal? Wasn’t this normal? Weren’t their fights “normal” at this point?
It had gotten easier after each fight. She learned certain things that would only infuriate him more. Don’t speak. Don’t look him in the eye. Don’t defend yourself. Don’t exist. It was her fault. It was always her fault. An unwashed dish. An unmade bed. An unpaid bill. If she wasn’t so clumsy, so careless, so silly. If she were more careful, they would not fight. They would be happy. But she kept messing up.
“Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me.” He would murmur as he curled up next to her in bed, the song that lulled her to sleep in a false sense of security. She would lay awake at night, thinking, wondering; until his breaths evened out and she no longer felt terrified of the stranger next to her.
But she loved him. And because she loved him, she would simply be more careful.
Art Contest: Best Entry by a Sophomore
His Last Breath
by Courtney Koffink