Auditory Abstracted — Anna Miller ‘24
I made this piece as a part of my portfolio investigating the idea of ‘future nostalgia’ and trying to predict what will be nostalgic to me in the future. In doing so, I’m hoping to create a body of work that will help me to be more present and appreciative of the small moments in my life. Additionally, this portfolio will help me in the future to connect with and remember this period of my life.
Almas Perdidas
Tiempo.
Cuando pienso en tiempo,
pienso en amor .
Pienso en tristeza.
Pienso en el mundo.
El mundo en donde los niño
van a la escuela pero aveces no regresan.
La violencia de armas va tragando la vida,
la vida inocente de nuestro futuro.
Tanto que, cuando escuchan el pop de chicle,
no responden con risas pero con gritos. Gritos de terror.
Gritos que siguen más frecuentemente, que nuestro gobernador no puede entender.
Los gritos silenciosos,
Los gritos altos,
Los primeros gritos,
Los último gritos.
Los gritos desde Texas,
de niños de 5, 6, 7, años.
Con toda la vida enfrente, con felicidad, con aventuras.
Los gritos desde Florida
de adolescentes de 14, 15, 16, 17, 18 años,
con toda la vida enfrente.
Con amor, con sonrisas.
Fueron a la escuela como normal,
pero no llegaron a ver a sus mamás, ni sus papás, sus hermanos, hermanas, ni sus perritos, ni gatitos.
Sus corazones robados, que siguen atrapadas en la escuela en donde tomaron sus últimos respiro.
Atrapados sin vida.
Translation:
Time.
When I think of time,
I think of love.
I think of sadness.
I think of the world.
The world where children
go to school but sometimes never return.
Gun violence is swallowing life whole,
The innocent lives of our future.
So much so, that when they hear the pop of gum,
they don’t respond with laughter but screams.
Screams of terror.
Scream that continue more frequently,
that our governor can not understand.
The silent screams,
The loud screams,
The first screams,
The last screams.
The screams from Texas,
Of kids 5, 6, 7, years old.
With their whole lives in front of them,
with happiness, with adventures.
The screams from Florida
of teens 14, 15, 16, 17, 18 years old.
with their whole lives in front of them.
With love, with smiles.
They went to school like normal,
but they didn’t get to see their mothers, nor their father, brothers, sisters,
nor their dogs, nor their cats.
Their hearts stolen, they stay trapped in the school where they took their last breaths. Trapped lifeless.
Bianca Angelino ‘26
I wrote this poem just to highlight the horrible things happening throughout our country, like how gun violence is stealing our youth and we are scared to go to school. The ordeal of not being able to return home, to our parents, our siblings, our homes, is the most terrifying thing we are having to deal with now. Our government doesn't hear our screams, and we are hopeless.