The Aviso
Welcome to the inaugural edition of The Aviso, a new voice for the school community and a place to showcase the literary and artistic work of students. An aviso is a naval watercraft which is used to despatch messages between ships, and I hope that this initiative will play an integral role in delivering messages throughout the school community. The Aviso will form part of each forthcoming MGC newsletter, featuring submissions from students across all year levels. I thank this inaugural edition’s contributors, as well as all the staff who have contributed their invaluable support, time and effort to launching The Aviso.
The Aviso collects submissions every month – we are currently seeking submissions for the April newsletters. If you would like your work to be featured in an April edition of The Aviso, please send it to theaviso@mgc.vic.edu.au before March 31. I look forward to relaying your future despatches!
Xara Hudson, Humanities Captain
Artwork by Livia Cotronea-Bennett (Year 7):
Deep Blue Home – Anushka Jha, 7 Lyons
Colors swirl in a haze and water stings my eyes,
as I drift down to sand the sun shines on endless blue
while the goldfish plays, I'll catch you
Palm trees welcome me from above
whilst coral beckons me on downwards.
I choose to go down, till the sun barely shines
I choose to go deeper, from sky to dark to navy now sapphire.
The trench falls in to sight, my destination has arrived.
Swallowed by darkness, my companions brighten.
They twinkle like stars with their blinding light,
am I in the deep or up in space?
Lights wink in my eyes.
Shimmering scales reflect the light.
Sky blue water is my home
in the warm sunlight zone.
Brain coral gives me a test,
while fan coral cools me down.
Dolphins and I play hide 'n' seek,
Octopus teaches me acrobatics.
Oh! Home sweet home.
Untitled – Alina Ivanova, 9C
It cracked and thundered, and a sea followed behind. The sailor paid no mind and fished for plastic per usual. Fish were rare today, just the same as yesterday and the day before. As the last iceberg fell and shattered, mixing in with the warm, green ocean, the fisherman hummed quietly to himself.
The sailor’s partner came up from behind him. “What’dya say, Punk? The Last Iceberg fell and yer gonna fish for more shopping bags?”
Punk shrugged, “So? I’m living it up on me boat. The waves won’t crash this beauty, so the climate can’t sink me life.” He heaved a sack of cans and bottles. Punk paused and turned to his friend. “Why in the coal would you care about what happens to the last iceberg, Skimmy? Tonald Drump already said that things were gonna be fine.”
Skimmy looked across where the iceberg had been. It was a white, gigantic beast once. So big you could see it from space; where the rich live.
“You see, Punk. My kid back at home wants to be an astronaut. He says he wants to be up there and find a new planet. Every day he asks why in the coal his grandparents say that grass is green, not black. The planet he wants to find, is a planet with green. And what am I gonna say to him, when he finds out the planet he’s standing on, is the planet he’s been looking for?” Skimmy smiled, weakly. “Were you ever awake in History, Punk?”
Punk didn’t give Skimmy’s words a thought. He huffed and threw his fishing sack back into the water. “Nah, I could never afford school. Why’dya ask?’
“There was this girl, they talked about. She’s long gone now-”
Punk laughed forcedly, “Well, no wonder. History is about the past isn’t it?”
Skimmy hesitated. “Y-Yeah, but that’s not the point, Punk. We learnt about a girl called Greta. She knew that the last iceberg was going to fall, before even the majority of us knew what ‘Global Warming’ was about.”
Punk raised a bushy brow. “I think it’s called the ‘Hotting of the Planet’, Skimmy.”
There was no reply. Instead what answered was the water’s weak gasp. The boat dragged in. The sailor did not see the incoming wave. As he only believed that waves won’t crash his beauty of a ship, and the climate won’t sink his life.