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Welcome to the St. Nicholas Academy Writer's Corner. The purpose of The Writer's Corner is to showcase exceptional written works by our students. Throughout the academic year we will rotate student writings to give a broad sampling of some of their best works. Enjoy!

My mind is blank like a wall

I have no thoughts none at all

I should be thinking about the

article due for this class

My mind is like a window pane

with no glass

Empty, echoing all the thoughts


My thoughts disappear like the

Titanic sank

My mind is blank like a wall

I have no thoughts none at all


  Mary Showalter


An Alphabet of Criminals


A is for Alice who held up a bank

B is for Bernie who killed Mr. Hank

C is for Carla who made counterfeit money

D is for Darrel who knocked off his honey

E is for Eddie who got busted for dope

F is for Frances who has no hope

G is for Gabe who gutted a stranger

H is for Harvey who shot at a ranger

I is for India who hijacked a car

J is for Jeremy who didn’t get far

K is for Kim who kidnapped a baby

L is for Louis who’s innocent…maybe

M is for Murphy who “borrowed” some paintings

N is for Nasha who did evidence tainting

O is for Oliver who stole the king’s yacht

P is for Paula who tried to buy pot

Q is for Quincy who lifted some jewels

R is for Ronald who broke all the rules

S is for Samson who blew up a bus

T is for Tim who strangled Old Russ

U is for Uncle who threatened his boss

V is for Vicky who poisoned the sauce

X is for Xing Xing who was being a pest

Y is for Yalena who was caught in Hong Kong

Z is for Zelda who just went along



 Nichole Diehl




You said you looked beyond the past.

Beyond the tears that were shed.

You said forgiveness is easy if you try.

Do it once and you will not return.

But when the time comes to forgive, i can’t.

When the time comes to forget, i can’t.

Every moment i have lived, whether it be bad or good.

Every moment is burned.

Burned inside me forever.

Never to be forgiven.

Never to be forgotten.


 Amanda Carroll


a big quiet cave

time stands still

so many saints

are together with me

They care and I care

and time does nothing to separate

their presence

Mine and Fr. Jacob’s voices break the

heavy silence

sweet perfumed incense curls upwards

with our supplications

muted cars whiz past outside as if in slow motion

another planet through the hazy

filmy curtains

we are here praying for the world

I’m hungry—sometimes bored—or cold—or hot

or tired and sleepy

But it’s just taken for granted

Fr. Jee Jee at 4:00 is what it is

 You gotta go


We say a lot of Lord Have Mercy’s.

We pray for the church, the archbishop,

the dead people, all the Christians,

the firefighters, the soldiers,

and help for ourselves.

Praying is such a perfect way to

handle problems.

And then we sing about saints who

jump into thorn holes to purge their

lustful thoughts—they are kinda crazy.



Katharine Showalter

A Poem by Miguel Velez

Four figures emerged from the smoke;
The horsemen of the Apocalypse are on the march.
The horsemen destroy everything in their path.
Men, women, and children scream and run for their lives.
The horsemen's armor reflects the fiery destruction around them.
Death, War, Famine, and Pestilence are upon us.

A Poem by Jonathan Turner (9th Grade)

Alert, intelligent, swift
Orange as the most orange orange
Graceful like a gazelle
Protective like a mother

A Poem by Hanna Carroll (10th Grade)

Pink is fun
It tastes like lollypops
It smells like the circus
It reminds me of cats, roses and bubble gum
Pink makes me want to run

A Poem by Christen Trettel (9th Grade)


Navy is depression…
It tastes like salty tears…
It smells like the bitter cold breeze…
And remind me of dark waters…
It sounds like silence…
Navy makes me feel sad…

A Poem by Joseph Keck (12th Grade)

The Apartments

The leaf sits softly on the patched cement walkways
The grill sits forsaken waiting for the next summer
Leaves scattered softly across the courtyard
A tree planted firmly is bare of its leaves
The wooden fence rests covered in green ivy
Green grass is turning brown in spots
Cloud cover sits heavily blocking the blue sky
Tiny ant crawls across the walkway
Tie wall rests with spots of moss
Old deck sits having experienced many winters

A Poem by Nicole Diehl (9th Grade)

Evil is silver
It tastes like bitter coins
It smells like frozen wind
It sounds cruel laughter
It reminds me of sharpened daggers
Sorrow is silver

A Poem by Chris Showalter (12th Grade)

Old Lady

My stomach was growling,
I needed to eat.
I walked to the restaurant
That was right down the street.

I walked down Park Place,
And looked up ahead.
I saw an old lady.
She looked almost dead.

She was walking a dog;
It was twice her size.
It saw a squirrel –
Ears started to rise.

Like a shot from a gun
He ran in despair,
And pulled the old lady
Along in the air.

Where I’m From - by Grace Diehl (7th grade)

I’m from the sweet smell of the freshly cut grass,

From the delicious scent of my sister’s vanilla shampoo,
and the clean sweet earthy smell of the new rain,

I’m from the fresh smell of newspaper,

From freshly brewed coffee in the morning,
and my grandma’s powerful lingering perfume,

I’m from the funny everlasting smell of our car,

From the warm smell of macaroni and cheese, and the salty air of the
Florida Coast I’m from annoying, buzzing bees around my head,

From chirping birds, and the cicadas humming on long summer evenings,

I’m from babies screaming in the yard, Tugboat and Squirt barking across the street,
and eating salty pumpkin seeds on Halloween,

I’m from white beaches, perfect for making sandcastles, and weekend family
trips to the cabin.

Where I'm From - by Amanda Carroll (8th Grade)

I am from white, fluffy beaches and clear, frigid water.

From Sukie and Pepper to lemon linguinie.

From the curious, comforting smell of new books.

I am from dad's thick beady-eyed glasses and mom's loud,
rustic cough.

From Grandpa's fresh, smoky car.

I am from Paul's country " Git ur done".

I am from brightly lit streets of New Orleans.

From Aunt Becky's childhood stories.

From Dandy's big, hazel-brown eyes.

I am from sweet, tangy garlic to cocoa butter lotion.

From Hannah and I's big, plastic spring horses.

I am from long, thick grass and privacy fences.

From freshly cut grass and warm garlic bread.

I am from hot chocolate, from Hannah's soft, comforting music box.

I am from love and family emotions.

Where I am From - by Elizabeth Trettel (7th grade)

I am from shattering objects as my name is being called.

From “Here comes Trouble with a capitol T,” as I walk in the room.

I am from “be quiet.” “Your annoying,” “she started it,” “go away,” “you’re stupid”, “don’t touch,” but I live for that roll!

I am from putting hot pans on tables and burning holes.

I am from hot sand and multi-blue waters.

From strange stares and the sweet smell of the Greek bakery.

I am from a big loud amazing Greek/American Family

I am from big Easter parties. From roasting lambs, cracking eggs and lots of food.

I am from chubby arms and legs

From boney arms and legs and “you’re too skinny”

I am from my grandparents Carpentry and painting workshop smell

I am from a laughing sister and turkeys climbing on my head.

From naming and chasing lambs and goats.

From racing to get the egg when the chicken clucks.

I am from one of the worst feelings in the world.

From not being able to control yourself after surgery.

From IV's and crying and trying to stay still

From medicine taking over my body.

And that is where I am from.

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