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About

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scihizine

LAYOUT ARTISTS

Alyssa Mae Acedo
Arienne Chrystensen Cajilig
Luanne Leigh Eseo
Cassandra Marguerit Cruz
Dave Ailjun Bitoon
Wince Dela Fuente

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TRADITIONAL CATEGORY

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Modelling Competition

Model Mania

Spoken Poetry Competition

Write out Loud

There's a love that everyone knew

All these stories so wild, and vibrant

Each one so different and new

What could this be? This curiosity?

There's a love that everyone knew

And I guess my heart longed for it too

I was young when we first met

You saw the innocent glimmer in my eyes

As my heart raced and my palms began to sweat

You were a new beginning

The pinch of thrill I was clearly missing

An adventure slowly unfolding

You pull me in and my body is trembling

But it's okay

Two years into this, you hadn't changed

You loved knowledge so much

You searched through my mind like an open book

You loved nature so much

You had bushes of red flowers that you wore like a crown

You loved the heavens so much

By twilight you were a pink sky that descended into purple

Three years into this, you took me by surprise

Effort after effort yet barely recognized

I witnessed the new dimensions of love

Love was the sharp chill just before the break of dawn

Love was sisterhood, brotherhood, camaraderie,

Love was the silhouette of the trees

As I look across the oval in my safe balcony

Tomorrow the winds may blow harder

But this love stays the same

Until Four years into this and I'm standing on top this mountain I've built,

Power in one hand, responsibility in the other

And i wish these moments would last forever

But sometimes love has to end and it's for the better

You're not just a love

You're a passion, an education, a home, an institution

And when I see end in sight, i shall not tremble

Because this love is different

This love doesn't change

it changes you

Because Five years into this I'm gasping for air

If love was on steroids this would be the year

I've suffered five years

What more does love want?

So with tears in my eyes thesis in my mind and a decision in my heart

Padayon, love says

Padayon hangtod imo puhon mahimong karon

Padayon, love says

So Six years into this and the work is done

But where to next? When the lights dim and it's time to pass the torch

I'm not a child anymore

All these things that love has prepared me for

When it's time to say goodbye, leave it all behind

Dust off your cap, love says, it's going to be fine

You're all you're ever gonna need

There's a love that everyone knew

And even though it's over for some and for some it's

brand new

Let me tell you

There's a love that everyone knew

And a school that everyone loved

Each story is different

Each story is equally unique

And although it may seem that all I have are these memories

I have a love so great

And a story to hold on to

And one thing's for sure

When you get to love Science High

It can be yours too

The Six Year Journey

poem by: Gabrielle Anne Bongon

Performed by: Alyssa Gwyn Arellano

Write out Loud

1st place winner

1

2

Cajilig and Ocaba

J: Farthest from the door

looking towards the floor

lost in mind

thinking thoughts of before

pondering, what the future has in store.

A: I stare at the board clean of any writing,

my mind now blank of the thoughts I had briefly

reflected on,

I begin to count the seconds left until class ends—

savoring the last few minutes I have before the bell

rings.

 

J: Our golden days, gone past

my memories gathered to last

loneliness, I had basked

with friendships, I surpassed.

A: The sun calls out to me disrupting my counting.

I look to the window from where it cried and bear

witness to a bird perched on its nest,

humming what I believe to be a lullaby, though unknowing

of my prying eyes as it, too,

was captivated by the same warmth I know is

absent from my hollow shell,

one I’ve craved ever since i was robbed of it.

 

J: A place of hope and joy it has given thee

my future it had guarantee.

A: The faint sound of a bell rings in my ears.

My shaking legs struggle to keep me grounded.

I take a breath and make a turn to leave behind the

ghost of a once dead girl.

J: Thoughts in my head, racing

the beating of my heart, pacing

past memories full of smiles

future hope made by trials.

people walking along the hallways

studying and learning as always

I recall as my memories fade

The path I took, the friends I made.

A: Oblivious, my feet begrudgingly plod to the

rhythm of a routine I’ve always known to abide, but I

am unconscious and only now do I realize that my

body’s running on autopilot.

J: Alone again deep in my thoughts

wandering along my memories, lots

The choice is made, a decision begot

My past mistakes may be distraught.

 

A: Whisked away, I sit pliant under the embrace of the sun, blanketed by the cover of leaves which sway to console me, I close my eyes and puff out an exhale,

I feel my breathing begin to calm, tension dissipates

into thin air.

 

J: My hopes and dreams soar

upon the sky, I look toward

the time of hesitation gone away

tomorrow, I start a brand new day.

The future shines in the distance.

The past doesn’t define my existence.

A: With my head down, I press on to the route that lies ahead,

I stand idly by a street corner, my arm extended for

a jeep willing to take me home.

I opt for the seat isolate of other people, which just

so happens to be farthest from the exit, while my

head plays out the events that had occurred that day,

at the back of my mind, I knew. Tomorrow would be just like today,

but I don’t mind it all that much—at least not anymore.

Cajilig, Arabella Chrystine C.

Ocaba, Jorel Cloud

Ating balikan ang mga oras na di malilimutan

Mga oras sa nakaraan at sa kasalukuyan.

Kung kailan remote ng TV ang palaging pinag-aagawan.

Sa channel na may kartung pambata,

May mga cartoons na laging sa’yo nagpapaligaya.

May mga cartoons na may babaeng nagbubulag-bulagan,

Nasa tabi na nga lang niya, ‘di pa rin niya makita.

May tatlong osong walang hanggan ang pagkakaibigan,

Magkaiba man ang lahi at katangian.

May pusang laging naghahabol sa daga, kahit siya’y pagalitan,

Sa kaniya pa rin siya nakikipaglaban, ‘di lang siya mapalitan

Ng iba

Kung kailan, tuwing pagkagat ng araw o sa pagsimula ng umaga,

Sa segundong idinilat ko ang aking dalawang mata

At sa minutong iniunat ko ang aking mga braso’t mga paa,

Makikita ko nang hinihinila na ni mama’t papa ang mga basura.

Mga basurang ‘di kaaya-aya

Mga basurang lagi kami ay dumidistansya

Mga basurang nasa loob ng mga plastik

Mga basurang salita na galing sa bibig ng mga adik sa panlalait

Na kung ika’y nakatalikod, parang mga umiiyak na biik

At ‘pag hinarap mo’y bigla na lang tatahimik

At tatalikod ka na naman, dinig mo pa rin na sila’y humahagikhik.

O, tama na, teka lang, taympers muna, nagiging off topic na.

O, eto na,

Eto rin yung mga araw na palaging may pangako.

Mga pangakong kahit buhay tinataya,

Kahit tatanungin ka ng “mamatay ka man?”

Kahit itapon n’yo pa ako sa karagatan

Pero kung ang pangako ay ‘di matupad,

Edi patawad, ‘di ako naging mapalad

Pumunta ka na lang sa bahay namin agad- agad,

Makiramay ka na lang.

O, malapit na ang pasukan

Nakahanda na si mama ng floor wax, pamaspas, pandakot at walis

Akala kong sa bahay kami maglilinis,

 

 

Sa paaralan pala kami magpapatulo ng pawis.

May roon na kasing brigada

Na taon- taon kaming pumupunta.

Para ‘di na raw kami mag-aambag sa bursar ng tig-singkuwenta.

At sa pameryenda naman ni ateng mapagbigay,

May coke at ensaymada.

Sarap ‘di ba?

Nag- umpisa na ang pagiging high school ko.

May magiging bagong crush na naman ako.

May makikita na rin akong mga bagong mukha,

Kadalasang mga unico iho’t unica iha.

Bolpen na ang gamit sa pansulat at ‘di na lapis

At dun na nagsimula aking pagkilatis

Sa mga kakalase kong halos bukambibig ay ingles,

Sa mga nakahihigit namin na laging may baong tsismis,

Sa mga guro kong kami’y maituwid ang ninanais.

Natatandaan ko na din yung mga araw na palagi akong masaya,

Na kahit madapa, ako’y babangon at tatawa.

Mga araw na ‘di pa uso ang mga ngiting maskara

Mga araw na ‘di pa peke yung ating mga tawa

Mga araw na kahit taho lang sa umaga ay busog na.

Ah, muntik ko nang makalimutan

Ang mga araw na lagi nating iniingatan

Ang mga araw na itinuturing nating sariling kayamanan.

Ang mga araw na palaging may tawanan, iyakan at kulitan.

Ang mga araw na may pa-open forum, may nag-iiyakan

Pero ‘di naman hinayaang umuwing luhaan

Kundi umuwing may ngiti sa mahigpit na yakap na aming ibinahagi.

Ang mga araw ng ating pagtumba,

Na tayo’y nagsandalan sa isa’t isa.

Ang mga araw na tayo ang nagwagi,

Buong araw tayong nagsasaya’t nakangiti.

Kahit may mga hindi inaasahang mga panyayari,

Nandyan pa rin kayo sa ‘king tabi.

Ang mga umagang binabati ng malalaking ngiti

Mga ngiting nakapag-toothbrush gamit ang Colgate ni Sarah G.

Ang mga tanghaling may laging tawanan at asaran.

Ang mga hapong may “paalam muna, kita tayo bukas”

Lalo na ang mga taong naging unan na yayakapin.

Mga taong naging kumot na itatago ka ‘pag ika’y natatakot.

Mga taong naging kurtina na tatakpan ang iyong pagkabahala.

Mga taong naging lilim na pagpapahingahan mo ‘pag ika’y pagod na pagod na.

Mga taong naging sandalan mo sa oras ng kahirapan.

Mga taong palaging nandiyan,

Kahit kailan, kahit saan, at kahit maging sino ka man.

Lahat ng ito ay bahagi ng ating nakaraan at kahit sa kasalukuyan.

Kaya ito lang ang masasabi ko,

Sana nama’y ibaon niyo ito sa inyong mga puso.

Ang ating mga natatandaan ay ‘di katulad ng ating nasaksihan.

Kasi lahat ng iyon ay noon lang.

Noon Lang

By: Janylle A. M.

Habang hinahalikan ng kahel na araw

Ang mga tuktok ng puno

Lumalabas naman ang mga nagtatagong puting kaulapan

Mula sa mga berdeng dahon

Na isinasayaw ng makapal at malamig na hangin

Kusa namang tumitingala sa kalangitan at bumubukas

Ang mga talulot ng mga nagsisigandahang bulaklak

Kasabay ng pagsilip ng bahaghari

Sa mga patak at sanaw ng katubigan

Tunay nga namang isang kahanga-hangang litrato

Na walang sawang iginuguhit ng bukang-liwayway. 

 

Hindi ko mapigilang maramdaman

Ang ningas ng aking pananabik

Pananabik sa aking pagbabalik

Pagbabalik sa minsa'y nakalipas

Isang aninag ng nakaraan

Na sa akin ay nagdulot ng silakbo

Silakbong tumutugma sa tema ng musika ng aking puso

Na kailanma'y hindi ko pagsasawaang isalin

Gamit ang mga talinghagang kayang iluwa ng aking bibig

Dahil ito ang hiwaga ng pag-ibig

Pag-ibig sa minsan kong naging tahanan.

 

Nagtungo ako sa loob ng obalo

At umupo sa napili kong puwesto

Pinagmasdan ko ang bughaw na kalangitan

Ang nagliliparang pangkat ng mga ibon

Ang luntiang mga damo at halaman

Ang nakapalibot na mga puno at gusali

At ang tagdan ng bandilang nakapuwesto sa gitna

Ang bawat detalye nito

Ay kabisado parin talaga ng aking puso

At ang payak na kapaligiran nito

Ay ang siyang simbolo ng aking tahanan.

 

Kung ihahambing ko ang araw na ito

Sa normal na araw noong nagdaan

Siguro ay narito parin ako sa puwestong ito

Nakikinig ng mahinahong musika

Habang hinahangaan ang tanawin sa aking harapan

Iilang estudyanteng nag-aaral ng tahimik sa isang sulok

Magkakaibigang nagkukwentuhan naman sa aking gilid

Sa kabilang banda ay may maagang kumakain ng tanghalian

Mayroon ding grupong-nag-eensayo ng kung para saan

Habang ang iba naman ay abala sa paglalaro

Lalapitan ako ng aking mga kaibigan at kami naman ang magtatawanan.

 

Pumasok ako sa isang asul na tarangkahan

Ganun parin ang pigura nito gaya ng dati

Pansin kong tila bagong pinta ito

Marahil ay kailangan na rin sigurong itago ang bakas ng kalumaan nito

Unang hakbang mula sa aking pagpasok

Ay agad sumalubong sa akin isang napakapamilyar na tanawin

Tumakbo ako papalapit sa munting halamanang nakagisnan

Pumitas at natikmang mayroon paring tamis ang santan

Sa bawat panibagong hakbang ay hinahaplos ko ito

Tulad na lamang ng ginagawa ko noong araw

Na parang ako parin ito sampung taon na ang nakalilipas.

Mga ganitong imahe ng nakalipas

Ay ang mga imaheng kailanma’y hindi kukupas

Mga imahe na sa akin ay patuloy na maghahatid ng tuwa at galak

Mga imaheng patuloy na magpapaalala sa akin

Sa mga biyayang ipinagkaloob sa akin ng paaralang ito

Ang biyaya ng kaalaman at karunungan

Ang biyaya ng samahan at pagkakaibigan

Ang biyaya ng pagtanggap at pagmamahal

Na kahit lumipas man ang kayraming taon ay mananatili itong saksi

Sa kawalanghangganang biyaya ng ala-ala

Na handog nito sa bawat isa sa atin.

Galimgim

-Aninag ng Nakaraan-

Tresmundo

Gella Tres

2nd runner up

Dear Scihi,

 

Remember me? I wasn’t exemplary, astounding or on top. Still, everybody knows my name. I only wonder if they know my story as well.

 

Dear Scihi,

 

I saw a group of freshmen eating by the pond the other day. A timeless scene of unapologetic laughter and high school life. They were talking about a show I’ve never heard of, talking like they had the sun in their palms and nothing else mattered but the actor’s name and their shared water bottle. I wonder what it felt like to have my name spoken with such light. Like my name was their friend. Like my name mattered.

 

Dear Scihi,

 

We partnered up in class today. I’m the odd one out again. They avoided eye contact again. I had to answer it myself again. Still, I wonder why they looked so shocked when they realized I passed an extra one.

 

Dear Scihi,

 

This is the first time someone cried in the secret corridor. Her friend was there, cradling her head and rubbing circles around her back. She spoke in soothing whispers, blanketing her friend with warmth that calmed her tremors. I wonder how many times I'll let words for someone else calm my tremors too.

 

Dear Scihi,

 

I’m not used to crying, but if it’s the only way to make them know I exist then I’ll do it. I wonder why they look so terrified though.

 

Dear Scihi,

 

I just learned what tears taste like. They taste like the ocean, so salty that they left my mouth parched for words. I just learned what my sobbing sounds like. They sound like hiccups overlapping, in a cage so hollow, it echoes again and again and again.

 

Dear Scihi,

 

I’m so alone.

1

Written by Gwen Mariz Talisaysay and Jaye Samantha Abrigonda

Performed by Allyza Mae Sulib

Dear Scihi,

 

I’m so scared.

 

Dear Scihi,

 

Why do I have to stay here? Why does everyone have to know my name without ever knowing me? Why does everyone stay away? Can’t they hear me? Can’t they see me? I want nothing more but for them to know that I’m right here.

 

Dear Scihi,

 

Is this what a friend looks like? Someone brave? Someone who stays even after hearing bloodcurdling cries? Friend wore an undershirt and an open polo. Friend had dirt stains on his khaki pants. Friend had gentle but trembling hands, a concerned but frightened face, a kind but beating heart. Friend had eyes that saw me, a girl about his age, a fellow student, a Scihiyista.

 

Dear Scihi,

 

I was a schoolgirl, drowning in her own pain, yearning for a second death, a stranger to the people who share the same home she had. He was so alive, alive, that I thought maybe, maybe, it was enough to make me breathe too.

 

Dear Scihi,

 

It was 50 years ago when we first met. You were a plain schoolhouse with nothing inside and I was a pretty girl, a league above the rest. Who would have thought that my life would be a shovel in a gravedigger’s hand, a stake to my own heart? I lived a life and lost it, my mouth all stitched up and shut, blood seeping through the mud in a place that promised to be shelter. Promised to be my home.

 

Today marks 50 years. 50 years of nothing and everything, 50 years of us. You stood in barren fields and I called you home. You were tough and rocky soil to grow on, but I’d plant daisies on your bedrock because I knew they would grow up to be the loveliest. I’ve met so many people and lived so many lives because of you. You were my safe place and you helped me let go. Thank you for the memories. Thank you for the lessons. Thank you…for setting me free.

Dear Scihi,

 

From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

 

Always,

Your most loyal student,

Margarita.

3

1st runner-up

Dear Scihi

2

SSG ENTRY

Golden Days

I count the days in sheets of paper,

In heaps and stacks of

drowning pressure.

They color me stoked and

coddle me with pride,

But they forget that the

priceless trophy

Could wear and tarnish over

time.

 

The pen taunts me like a blade,

A double-edged sword waiting to strike.

While it trudges through the

obscure hereafter,

It pierces into humanity with

thinly veiled spite.

But when I lay on the grass in

a sleepless daze,

I reach for the sky and bask in

the hope of golden days.

 

~

 

Something about my present

makes me feel as though I can

outlast the glimmer of the

sun's setting.

 

Perhaps four years in this

school has made me stronger,

.... or maybe softer.

In a matter of days I've

become a king, an african, a

god, a leader-

I've spoken the language of

the triumphant but also of the

lowly,

 

Clothed in nothing but

courage and harmony,

I've braced myself against

tempests of failure and sorrow,

I have fought against an

unyielding tide of pressure-

 

I have kept the name, I have

run my part. These are the

golden days generations past

so lovingly speak of:

 

Blue uniforms and khaki pants,

sleepless nights and rowdy

rooms, quiet labour and

steady growth, muffled tears

but garish laughter-

 

Yes, this is absolute. This is the

tide of my golden days, the

height of my time.

But the tides I had then

seemed unclear until the

billowing waves crashed some

sense into me.

 

It is the moon that I face now,

many monsoons have come

and gone and tinged my

fingertips with shades of

indigo— enough times that

everything I touch turns blue.

 

I know the orbit of my being

will bring me back to better

times, but I cannot help but sit

and ponder anyway.

 

If I had known then that those

would be my golden days, I

would have basked under the

sun for longer. I would have

slept for shorter nights, spent

less time counting all the

trophies lined up on the top

shelves.

 

Maybe I would have even cried

out loud.

 

Perhaps that is why the stars

kept me oblivious, kept me

blind: I would never have left I knew.

Written by Chynna Penales, Clarisse Bagood, and Arienne Cajilig