Art piece: “Van Gogh Christmas Tree” by Katelin Lopez
“Van Gogh Christmas Tree” by Katelin Lopez
Kellenberg Memorial's Literary Magazine
An important extracurricular part of the student life at Kellenberg Memorial is our literary magazine, Renaissance. Renaissance members meet weekly to write, read, and discuss literature and the arts. Our magazine, published in print annually each Spring and digitally throughout the year, contains the creative writings and artistic talents of students from grades six through twelve. The creativity in these poems, short stories, essays, and art is often learned about in the day-to-day work within our classrooms, but here they are expressed by our contributing student writers and artists. If you would like to see our webpage, please search kellenberg.org/phoenix on your browser and find us on the menu options.
“Childhood Christmas” by Ciara Bice ’25
Waking up on December 1 to find the Elf on the Shelf and open the Advent Calendar there is a sense of joy that fills the soul. Decorating the tree, putting up the Nativity and setting up the Advent Wreath. Taking the train into Manhattan to see the tree and decorations. Attending different shows like the Christmas Spectacular and the ballet. Driving through the Jones Beach light show and staring in awe and all the colors and designs. Wrapping gifts for all my family and friends was like a craft. Laying out cookies and carrots for Santa was such a fun activity. Trying to stay up tracking Santa and see when he would be arriving. Then waking up to the smell of waffles and Christmas carols blasting. The Disney parade being played on the television. Me and my four siblings wait on the stairs to take the picture then run down to rip open the presents and see the stockings. We were all so jovial and grateful. Then somewhere along the way the magic seemed to disappear and the happiness seemed like a chore. As we grew older the once very happy season turned into a gloomy time. As I am now a senior I realize that my childhood is slipping away and I will forever cherish the memories of the magical season of Christmas.
Article by Phoenix writer Griffin Strauss ’25:
Photo credit: Mary O’Brien
The Renaissance gathered together to view the 2015 documentary “I Come From,” a film displaying the Voices Inside prison program in Kentucky.
In room 238, the Renaissance gathered with movie snacks and watched the documentary on Friday afternoon, the regular meeting date for the literary arts magazine club. The film focused on inmate Andrew Phillips, a prisoner spending time writing his own plays. Through the Voices Inside program, Phillips developed his play which was produced and premiered in New York. Another inmate used poetry through rap to express his grief in regards to his past mistakes. Each of the inmates featured in the documentary explored his identity through the redemptive power of creative writing and expression.
After watching the film, the Renaissance members discussed “I Come From,” expressing how they were inspired by the inmates’ ability to embrace the arts and find their spirit in such a seemingly hopeless situation. The students were also fascinated by the ability for the prison system to reform through endeavors like Voices Inside, which allow prisoners to grow in healthy and productive ways.
Sophomore Mary O’Brien, who watched the documentary, said, “I was inspired to see these men in difficult situations using art and poetry as an outlet. It sparked my desire to write my own stories and hopefully contribute to the Renaissance one day.”
“Renaissance” publishes regularly on the Kellenberg website and features student literary and artistic works and also publishes an annual print magazine. In addition, club members meet regularly for discussions, readings, and workshops. Any students interested in joining The Renaissance can use this link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/10h2vzBcnL_S3ua0iTmaPBoY2pYvQl8gEPdfhYT0LFSk/edit?usp=sharing
A dusk was come; the earth a sullen quiet
Had raised to protest Night’s impending gloom,
And pulled the tired land to noiseless riot,
Forestalling to the most the coming doom.
And animals, whose shadows claimed the night,
And glimpsèd were before they turned to naught,
Shrank from the chilling silence, and in fright,
Cried for the warmth the sun no longer wrought.
Then suddenly, this deathly silence shattered,
By chanting in a monastery near,
Brought all the dark, foreboding thoughts to tatters,
And filled the earth with singing sweet and clear.
The notes brought witness: man was not forsaken,
Though light be stripped from land, and earth be shaken.
The freedom we chase
Kids’re so quick to grow up, they dream of being “free”
They race through long grass barefoot, past playgrounds and climbing trees
They never stop to breathe, or take in any scenes
Twenty summers pass and suddenly they see
The freedom that they longed for was never truly free
Now they button up their collars
Pull their laces tight
Looking over shoulders
For a time when everything was bright
Sometimes
Time seems but a sad joke
Millions of tiny pictures
Bright, flashy,
Cheap.
All crowded
Into a frame which reads,
Your Life.
But if you push aside
That frame,
You’ll see a curtain
From afar
It looks so thick
You could never see through.
But if you come up close
You’ll see
It’s really made of
Gossamer
Woven by fairy-fingers
And spun on
Dreams.
Sometimes
I flick the corner of that curtain,
And glimpse
What lies Beyond—
But then, against my will,
My hand
Pulls back,
It’s Not Your Time Yet.
And so I turn
To face Reality.
The Energy of The Mind
By Veronica Belanger ’24
Today and tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, tired I find
myself running on the hamster wheel of my own mind.
It leaves me wandering in place, in complete confusion While it runs and jumps (mostly to conclusions).
I just want a break, to ease this aching head.
Sleep becomes my ocean, I’m in the boat that is my bed.
Even while unconscious, my brain cannot rest.
It won’t slow down, pounding like the heart in my chest,
Weaving these tales, ‘dreams’ as they’re called:
Sometimes they’re soft and lovely, sometimes I’m left appalled
How does my brain know things that I do not?
I’d try to take control, but that’s a battle that should not be fought.
I’ve left it to its own device, wandering as it pleases I just listen closely to all its ranting and its speeches
I attempt to keep up with its pace, I really and truly try, but why, oh, why must my brain have more energy than I?
Distance
By Elena Brutus ‘24
As I crossed the border I knew
This was the last time I would see you
She told me from the beginning to keeps my distance
Of course, I’m stubborn so, I didn’t listen
The days flew by
and our friendship grew
Soon everything in sight
reminded me of you
So this is goodbye
To my very first friend
The distance between us
Stretches on till the end
Love’s No Streaming Service
Feeling blue lately
without you
but looking at this screen
reminds me of you.
It’s 3 A.M.
The distance between us
is tiring my heart apart.
I wish we were a Netflix movie
so I can just hit restart
Painting: “Let Music Free Your Soul” by Mia Rose Spence ’30, The Renaissance Challenge Winner
Ashlynn Newsome ’25 Reese Holloway ’25 Tristan Weber ’31 Emily Fox ’31
“Energy Doll” Illustration by Brandi Licato ’24
“Mary, Mother of God” In celebration of the Month of the Rosary and the Feast of Our Lady of the Rosary. Rosann Passalacqua, ’27