Spring Showcase

The Richview Voice presents The Spring Showcase, displaying creative writing, poetry, visual art, photography and short films by RCI students. 


The Swan

By Mariam Al-Hulaibi

A Bee’s Dream

By Mel Jenkins

Whatever

By Shabahat-Noor Husnain

I’ll be your whatever
I’ll stay for forever
I’ll hold your hand
I’ll sit with you on the beach in the sand
I’ll keep your secrets
I’ll stay through your pain
I’ll dance with you in the rain
I’ll keep you warm
I’ll keep you cool
I’ll make you smile and laugh like a fool
I’ll pick you up when you fall
I’ll listen and answer every time you call
I’ll remind you that you’re worthy
I’ll remind you that you are so rare
I’ll always be there
I’ll show you what the world could be
I’ll do for you what no one ever did for me

The Bench

By Lia Marchione

If you want the rainbow, you’ve got to put up with the rain.

By Amnah Jaber

🌺💦 r  a  i  n    🌦

By Shelley Debartolo Campos

Smells of sea salt,
A dashing drop, slightly untouching
The voluminous lashes of her face,
Shivering,
Her left leg aching with each forward step
Her toes slushing against
Squeezing water flooded into her sandal
She was envious
Of the dandelions
That floated with the wind,
While gravity hauled her back
To reality.


The Tulips

By Mariam Al-Hulaibi

COVID + Class

By Meilin Cha

Covid Fatigue

By Amelie Hamlyn-Lovis

Anxiety

By Ana Downes

You consume me
You are a darkness of which I can never flee
It seems that everywhere I go
You like to follow me

You envelope my thoughts in fear
In sadness, worry and gloom
Why is it that you make everyday seem
Like a never-ending doom

You are my silent battle
A fight that’s easy to hide
I’ve gotten so good at masking
The storm that erupts inside

You take control of my life
And I feel so helpless
You capitalize on my fears
And feed into my stress

I’m so tired of you taking the joy
From my every day
I’m exhausted from the task
Of keeping you at bay

I know you are irrational
But somehow you make me feel
Such a false, distorted sense
Of what is truly real

But I am stronger
Than you’ll ever be
And I will not let
You consume me

The city never sleeps, but I do.

By Amnah Jaber

Hands Off My Hijab!

By Salma Osoble

Screaming Dude

By Anonymous

Rainbow Man

By Margaret Petrova

Orange

By Jessie Chen

The girl and the Wind

By Abigail Marshall

She felt her eyes open, but she could not see. She knew her eyes were open because she could feel a slight breeze trying to force them closed. Her eyes were open, yet she could not see. Not the soft white light of nighttime and not the harsh glaring light of daytime. She could not see at all. It was complete darkness all around her. She turned her head. She could not hear. Not her hair moving against the soft grass, not the birds that she knew were chirping because they were always chirping. Always chirping. Always. 

She cried for help. She did not know this because she could not hear, but her voice was not a voice. It was just silence. Nothing. What was she without her voice? She could do nothing but move her fingers along the field of grass and flowers in which she was lying. She could do nothing but cry soundlessly, feel the tears streaming down her cheeks. She could do nothing but yell as loud as she could without making a sound. All the while she could feel gentle breezes ruffling her hair, caressing her cheeks, trying to dry her tears.

She stood up and ran. She thought she was running. She felt the ground hitting her feet and the wind rushing faster and faster against her, pushing her back. Back to the ground. Back to safety. Back to the comfort of the grass and the tears and the silent sobs. The wind was her friend. He had been a good friend. A strong and constant friend for her to rely on. But now he was denying her wishes. Denying her right. Her right to run and to pant and sweat. That is what she wanted, to feel her body giving way and collapsing. Knowing she had done all she could to escape this hell on earth. 

It was a dream. She wanted to believe it was a dream. That she would open her eyes and she would see the soft white light of night-time or the harsh, glaring light of daytime. That she would turn her head and hear her hair against the grass. Hear the birds that were chirping. Always chirping. Always. She would feel her friend the wind and they would play their games and someone, anyone, would be able to hear her voice. But something about the running and panting and sweating seemed so absurdly real and overwhelming. It could not possibly be something she had created deep in the subconscious of her mind. 

Her dress ripped to shreds as she ran into bushes and rocks. She ran until she felt an edge. Where there once was ground, there was no more. She could feel the wind pushing her away from it. Pushing and pushing but never being gentle with her. Never asking why she felt drawn to the edge. He tried to stop her. The wind. But not even he, her dearest friend, could hold her back as she felt the certain death beyond the cliff. Beyond the ground, beyond the earth. Beyond life. Finally, she pushed hard enough against the wind that he conceded. He watched as his oldest and closest friend jumped off into the great beyond and knew she would never return to him. Not her eyes, bright and sparkling, not her ears, small and perfect, or her voice, joyful and full of life. They both knew it was over, and yet not one of them regretted a thing. Not a thing as she crashed into the dark unknown. Her wild and untameable self, relieved that it was finally over, and he, silent and stoic and solid as he turned away, unable to accept that this is the end.


A Journey Through Covid-19

By Natalie Skinner

Waterfalls

By Margaret Petrova

Many things in life can wait, but the sunset won’t.

By Amnah Jaber

The Summer

By Mariam Al-Hulaibi

Longing

By Christina Dinh

Marine Life

By Meilin Cha

Funky Land

By Amelie Hamlyn-Lovis

Okay

By Shabahat-Noor Husnain

Invalidating emotion
In my mind raising commotion
Only relative to how they feel
Irrelevant to how I heal
They imposed on my well-being
And everything I was seeing
Am I unbothered or is it repressed?
Always left feeling a little depressed
Possess a wound that I can’t repair,
Deep down in my heart somewhere
Can’t cry, can’t frown, can’t scream
Pretending it to be a dream
“Tears only make your face wetter”
Telling yourself things will get better
I’m not quiet they’re threatening
The lack of change is deafening
My thoughts won’t end
Against them I can’t defend
This place I can’t stay
But if you ask me how I am,
I’ll say I’m okay


Time

By Ana Downes

Time
Time is an evil thing
The dark and desolate hands of the clock reach out and grab you by the throat
Pulling you farther and farther away from the life you thought you had
The life you enjoyed living blissfully carefree
The life you didn’t cherish enough
Because you were too young to know what would happen
When time curled its tongue
Dripping with sorrow
And exposed its jarring teeth
To bite you
And make you abruptly realize
That it would chase you every single day of your life
Faster and faster as it waits to strike again for the final time
You find out that every moment you experience is temporary
Nothing ever lasts
And it can never last
Because of time
And just before the sand in the hourglass comes to a stop
Only then
Do you realize
How lucky you were
Before the demon found you


Voices

By Lia Marchione

Covid Effects & Perspective of Teens

By Alex Currie

The Neighbourhood Swing

By Mel Jenkins

Autumn Evening

By Sh’rye Johnson

The Night Sky

By Margaret Petrova

My Secret Friend

By Natasha Kangrga

(inspired by ‘The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas’)

I wanted to join my new friend
So we thought I could try to blend in

He asked me to help look for his father
Though the whole time I could not stop my falter

The video showed this camp was a happy place
But all I see is sadness on everyone’s face

Now something strange has begun happening
Guards are ordering people, tackling

There is only chaos now
My friend and I are stuck in the middle of a crowd

I don’t want to stay here but I cannot move
These guards do not recognize so they aren’t behooved

I want to go, I want to leave
Why did I come here? Why was I so naive?

Further and further we all walk
All I smell is sweat and I am covered in dust

When we stop I hear a screech
A metal door opens and something reeks

We are all shoved into a tiled room
And our clothes are ordered to be removed

I worry less now and assure my friend,
“It is just a shower” and extend my hand

We are both cold and huddle together
Our hands held like brother and brother

The door closes and gets locked
Another loud noise emerges and we look up

In the ceiling, at the top
A man with a gas mask appears and I want this to stop

He takes a substance and begins to pour
I cannot believe the Jewish are a cause for this war

This acid burns and I can only scream
But then we drop and there is only stea

-The Holocaust, 1941 – 1945


We’ll belong to the Bugs & the Flowers

By Christina Dinh

Spring Violet Flowers

By Natalie Skinner

Life of a Ballerina

By Leilani Murray

Long Man

By Amelie Hamlyn-Lovis

A.W Effect: Rihanna

By Sh’rye Johnson

Idealize

By Jasmine Miljure

A frigid breeze twists through the room
Papers fluttering around like butterflies

The fire flickers for a moment
Onto the cold stone a spark flies

Rain patters on the windowsill
And upon entry it all quickly dries

A girl is sitting in the seat closest to the fireplace
Spring break means she has nothing to agonize

She was reading her favourite book
After many years it still mystifies

The crinkled pages and broken spine
Made it easier to familiarize

She doesn’t remember where she got it
And it hasn’t changed since it first met her eyes

She loved it so much that adoration clung to the pages
Like how the soft smell of perfume on clothing lies

She didn’t mean to fall asleep while she was reading
But the rain and fire sung their lullabies

Guiding her into a peaceful slumber
From which she wouldn’t wake until sunrise

The book will still be there when she gets up
She has time to further fantasize


New Growth

By Natalie Skinner

Sunlights Bike

By Mel Jenkins

Bubbles, 2020

By Tenzing Sungkhor

Resting in a Field

By Natalie Skinner

Milo, 2020

By Tenzing Sungkhor

Milo, 2021

By Tenzing Sungkhor

It’s What’s Theirs.

By Shelley Debartolo Campos

The compacted,
Yet voluminous darkness squeezing in molds of dainty backyard flowers
Plastered amongst the –
White, red, orange walls
A complexion yet reminding me bittersweetly of our times running through the museum exhibit
But now it’s just “…you” scrawled against the walls
Now a breeding ground of
Obnoxious children screams
Confused of their way around
But today we are now what those kids were
“Where are we headed?” She questioned annoyingly
“We are barefoot and puzzled but the loud NYC streets of storming fate is bringing me to your warm embrace”
He answered;
While feeling her Versace perfume dance along from the wind behind
From the direction where his “only one” was coming from
But she still hesitated
To walk next to him


Flower Mask

By Christina Dinh


Eyes Above Us

By Amelie Hamlyn-Lovis

Maua ya tembo

By Leilani Murray

Peanuts: Comic Book Cover

By Sh’rye Johnson

Chasing the Spark

By Leilani Murray

“Don’t leave me, please! I can’t do this without you!” 

A little girl cries to her mother, tears in her eyes. Begging her mother to stay with her. Begging her to come with her. Hearing screams from different people being dragged away by these…creatures. Screaming everywhere. 

Then darkness. 

“Ahhh!” I suddenly scream, waking myself up from that important moment in my life. The one moment where everything changed. For good or for bad I don’t know yet. I look frantically to the sides of my room and notice the dark marks of light hitting it. 

I need to control my emotions more when it comes to my powers, if I don’t people will find out

I suddenly look at the clock and see the time. My eyes suddenly bulged out. “Oh shoot me!” I fly out of my bed, quickly put on my clothes, snatch a bagel in a hurry to catch the bus. 

I wait at the bus stop and look at my watch, 8:40 am, work starts at 9:00 am, and I live 30 minutes away by bus, and my car is getting fixed. If I’m not there by 9:00 am I might as well find a new job. I suddenly hear a honk. I turn around to see my next-door neighbour and best friend, Tarence Taylor. 

I walk over and get into the car.

“Late for work again Sekani?” He says with a smirk I know all too well.

“Just drive Taylor before I change my mind.” 

Tarence and I have known each other since we were 5. He doesn’t know my secret though. My parents think it’s too risky for anyone to know about it. Know about my past. It pains me every day to lie to him about this, how I wish I could tell him, but it’s for the best…right? 

“You ok? You look like you’re on your own planet or something.” You have no idea. He looks at me with a concerned look in his eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m fine just thinking about work. Speaking of, how is work, Mr. DJ?” 

“Hmm let’s see I have a gig this Sunday for a Wedding.” He says this as we stop at a red light. 

I am overwhelmed with joy for him, his career is taking off. “Really, that’s amazing! You are going to get so much notice from it! I’m so happy for you.” 

At this, I’m so happy that I engulfed him in a hug. I hear a sharp intake of breath from him. I don’t know if that meant a good thing or a bad thing but I continue to hug him trying not to let my emotions get the best of me and crush him from my strength. 

After a few seconds, he slowly wraps his arms around me returning that hug. It feels nice for a moment. Is that wrong? 

After what seemed like an eternity we heard a honk and we both jumped out of our seats. Finally noticing the green light him driving off. The rest of the car ride we sit in uncomfortable silence. “Why did I hug him? Now things are going to be awkward. Why has this been happening lately?” My thoughts are blaring after what happened. 

Why would it be awkward we’re best friends, after all, it’s not like we’re-

 “We’re here.” Tarence says breaking me out of my ongoing thoughts. 

“What?” He slightly chuckles at me. 

His eyebrows arched and gave me a perplexing look. “The place in which you work.” 

“Oh yeah right!” I frantically get my stuff and get out of the car and nearly shut the door when he asks, “You need a ride home too?” 

Giving me that look. You know the look where you’ve seen it before and it’s just so annoying that when they look you can’t help but smile. “No, Mr.Taylor I think I’ll be just fine.” 

He chuckles again saying “Oh so if I’m Mr.Taylor then who is…” He nearly says something but something passes his face akin to embarrassment and he says nothing except “Uhhh never mind you gotta go. I’ll see ya” 

I want to stop him to ask what he was going to say but he drives off. I look at my watch realizing I have 5 mins to spare so I go to the nearest coffee shop and get myself breakfast. I walk into the coffee shop and notice the news. Three kids trapped inside a 10 story building on the top floor. I feel a sense of responsibility in my hands. The firefighters won’t get there in time. I think to myself. 

Wait, I can do this. I have powers that I know how to use… sort of, but I still can fly there faster than anyone and those kids might die if they suck up too much carbon dioxide. I can get there before the firefighters even get in their trucks. I take a black trench coat off the rack of the coffee shop and rush into action. I ran behind the shop. I fly off to find that burning building. 

After a minute or two of flying around downtown California, I am accompanied by a thick cloud of smoke. I fly up to the building through a window to find the kids. I hear the sound of crying and screaming and fly to where the sound is coming from. It’s coming from the East side of the building. The sound gets louder as I get closer. I stop where I hear the sound more. Apartment number 1003. I bust open the door and I run inside seeing the 3 kids one of which is still a baby no more than 3 months. I stare as if I’ve seen it before. 

Flashback 

A little girl no more than 3 months is cradled by her mother and father sitting right next to her. The baby starts to cry.

” Don’t worry mommy’s here mommy’s here.” The mother coos to her baby. “We’ll never let anything happen to you.”

End Flashback 

I shake it off and focus on what’s happening. The oldest which looks 8 is holding the baby while the other is around 4. I hold the 2 kids (the other still holding the youngest) and I dash out of the building. 

I get out safely with the 3 kids and find the mother. She runs up to them. She’s a fairly young woman with dark brown hair and a slim figure. “Its Ok mommy’s here mommy’s here.” 

I look at her with a sense of joy on my face. To see a mother that truly loves her kids. I’ve seen people that all their life never had the sense of love from their mother…to not remember or even know their mother. Just then a bunch of people crowd around me. 

“Miss, Miss what do they call you?!” 

“How did you know those kids were in danger?!” 

“Miss, are you the new superhero for California?” 

After that last remark, I fly away.


Thank you to all who submitted pieces for the show!