~Roaring Voice~ ~Reviews~
🍂Tamanend's Literary Magazine🍂
Editors' Note
Beloved Readers,
We are once again off to another great year! From the warmth and compassion of summer to the indecisiveness of September, the true colors of autumn reveal themselves to us. Fall's susurrous winds blanket us, comforting the world into Nature's Slumber. In this edition, we explored the decay of nature and the attributes that define the wonderous, frigid, but sublime climate of autumn. Below you can peruse the stunning brilliance of Tamanend’s very own Literary Magazine Club, Roaring Voices Review. Ranging from art, photography, poetry, short stories, and much more. Our club members have devoted their time and effort to create these works corresponding with this edition’s theme, Nature’s Slumber, for you to enjoy! Please circulate this throughout the community for more engagement and appreciation of these creative students. Thank you for viewing and have a festive fall season!
Love,
Roaring Voices Review's Editors <3
Contrast - By Ella Liu
Eclipse - By Brianna Moynihan
I woke at 5:30. Exhausted, I tried to go back to sleep, but couldn’t. I’m so tired. Why do I have to wake up so early all the time? I groaned.
With nothing else to do, I decided to go downstairs. When I came to the stairs, the ground looked different. A red light was glowing dimly on the floor. It looked like blood. I went down to investigate. “Wow!”
As I looked out the window, the moon was enormous. It looked so different than it did when I went to bed.
The moon was still huge. But it was white, not red. It had an eerie glow, like this one’s and it had clouds covering it in just the right places. Let’s not forget, it was bright. Very bright.
I decided to go for a walk outside. The moon looked really cool, so I decided to take some pictures of it from outside.
I grabbed my coat, boots, hat, and gloves, then went outside. It was much colder than I had expected. Tiny snowflakes started to dance through the air. Some had already piled up. I love the snow.
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Lonely Yellow Leaf - By Talia Perlman
Festivities - By Layla Wood
The Greed of Man - By Araiza Del Toro Amaya
A man lives atop a placid, tedious hill
In a house of blundering brambly branches
Tall windows enlightening his
feeble soul
Antiquated furniture glutting, flaying within
Within
Within
A man gazes at an unmalleable background
At clouds remaining dormant, not a thought to caress
At trees that never balter, not a change to celebrate
At a world he can never change
A man that has it all
Forlorn rooms that embellish his callow heart
Thorns adorning his innards
Skin pell-mell waiting for the barb's encroachment
His smile of indefinite premonition
A man that will never relish
Halcyons of infinite ages
Eternities of the endless
The guarantee of forever
A man full of
Resentment
Orgulous
Bile
A man full of
Insatiate
Fantod
Devoid
A man full of nothing
He is sick of bore
But refuses to chide the jejune
To spit at the floor
To do anything at all
A man that
acquiesces
rejecting to unfetter the future
Afraid to be scathed by what may come
A man whose hill seethes within us
Constructing its own unkempt house
Its own towering windows
Its own fear to face
Melancholy Altercations - By Lily Mercado
Star Fairy - By Maeve LogueConroy
Nature's Slumber
The falling of the leaves
Could be someone’s pet peeve
As they step on them on the sidewalk
The crunchy sound
On the ground
From delicate figures to pieces they go
The chilly breeze
Hits your sleeves
Making you shiver as you walk
Most enjoy the smell
Of the warm treats and beverages, quite swell
The sugary scent lingering in the air
The candles of lumber
The amount of animals seen, now a low number
Nature’s slumber is here
Just Before the Leaves Fall - By Talia Perlman
Pixelized Characters - By Layla Wood
Song of the Blood Moon - By Rachel Thomas
A sharp screech stabs into the night, with an enflamed moon bleeding through. With scattered thumps, my heart clashes against the cold bars of my ribcage, chasing a gasp out of my throat. Lost in darkness. Brittle sand dances with my fingertips, as I brush it away. Exiled in the desert. I blink once. Twice. Thrice. Nothing. Staring through black eyes. Trampling my ruffly black dress, my legs possess a mind of their own.
“Rachel,” the wind whispers. It all stops.
My fingertips fade to ash. The blood moon burns you black. The sticky sweet taste of freedom drenches my tongue. Each of the looming scraggly trees construct my new home. Darkness envelopes me in a cocoon, where it’s meant to shackle me and send shivers down my spine. For the first time, I breathe.
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Beauty in Nature - By Vincent Daniel
Sunset Angel - By Maeve LogueConroy
Chile y Sal - By Araiza Del Toro Amaya
The hunch in my back arcs deeper as my dry hands grasp for the basket of the yellow-green ripened fruit in front of me. The moist wind licks my figure effortlessly through the, seemingly futile, barred windows that home me in and thwart everything else out. With every melancholy click of the sofa, my body’s endeavors unfetter, weaving itself tighter into the threads of the aged, but timeless couch. Gray clouds churn, arguing sunlight or storms. The seething gnashes of the thunder chide the callow skies away, it has been settled. My eyes relax back onto the sluggish, placid lumps of ground in which arrogant jocote trees flourish proudly, impatiently waiting for the downpour overhead to quench their everlasting thirst.
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Leaf By - Sam Cohen
Which Witch - By Layla Wood
Eggs - By Abhay Chathuruthy
A Tiger's "Orange" - By Banessa Ortiz Ortez
Hunny - By Malaika Khan
Strangers in Autumn - By Talia Perlman
I used to watch the people
Their faces bowed with dreams
Their stories veiled with whispers
Or so that’s how it seems
I used to watch the people
All afternoon they strolled
Down the block and around the corner
Hands in hands and hands in cold
I used to watch the people
Their eyes filled with thought
Their feet filled with pain
Clumped like fallen foliage
With wind still puffing through their brain
I used to watch the people
As the leaves flickered like a flame
The night was dark, and days were old
But the people always came
I used to watch the people
Their names I’ll never know
But their faces and the leaves
Will only lead to snow
Sunkissed - By Elsy Alvizures Bonilla
Batman, Arkham Series: In Honor of Kevin Conroy - By Max Jin
The Death of John Boddy - By Malaika Khan
Prologue:
Ms. Scarlet had grown up in a poor town, not too far off London. All her life she had to fight for the necessities she needed to survive. She would steal from local vendors, stores, and eventually people’s pockets. Her father left when she was young, and her mother became gravely ill soon after he had left. Her mother could barely manage to survive, and Jade was the only one who could fend for the family. She had to take care of her mother, ensuring that she wouldn’t be left unfed or unclean. Right from a young age, Jade was thrust into the role of a nursemaid for her sickly mother. One day when she was out, getting food, she ran into a man. This man wore a pristine suit, a fancy watch on his wrist and a golden pocket watch. It looked as though he owned numerous estates. He looked down at Jade, her appearance filthy and her tan skin and grimaced. She was carrying a bag of fresh food for her mother, the best food that they had for a while, and medicine, which was terribly hard for her to acquire.
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Snow White's Seven Dwarfs - By Araiza Del Toro Amaya
Hide the Decay - Rachel Thomas
Arms and legs fold into origami,
Just to confine into a steel stiff cage,
Impervious worms wrestle where eyes should be,
Handcuffs of puppet strings, ready for stage,
Bars of impalpable expectations,
nobody will find decay in this pit,
no matter the thorough excavations
under the heels, innocuous petals split,
Drip-drop, crimson stains the off-kilter hands,
Crumpled heart falls out the chest, a touch could shred,
A cacophony of screams fills the lands,
Long thorns choke the penitence sodden head,
Before we lose it and all our goal,
All I need is some of my own control.
Editors' Goodbye
Green to yellow, yellow to brown, brown to nothing at all. Dormancy struck all, the wind's bore tainted the hearts and hand of any. And yet, fall remains asleep, unaware of its influence - either cherished or loathed. Regardless, the beauty of change is evident and breath-taking, quite literally.
Autumn: the hidden gem of the seasons.
See you soon,
Roaring Voices Reviews Editors <3