Contributor: Ian Castorillo

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Shipwrecked
Oceans in the sky as I swim to fly
Submerged in the water
I am a vessel made of life

For it is the heat of passion
For it is the cold of isolation
For it is the cruel wind
That tries to push the sails

Issues of the ship are surely sufficient
But it is the sand that makes my heart coarse
Lost on the shore
As a burning bush beckons me towards the sea

Calm waves tame my brain
And as the walls of the sea split and separate
My feet move like turtles
On a clear path clean and complete

Worship brings forth rising tides
bringing me towards the clouds
Walking carefully close to the stars
A voyager hoping to return


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Ian Castorillo was determined at the age of four to reach all of the strings of the guitar, now, he talks with chords. Subsequently, he eats gourmet Subway sandwiches with calloused fingers. Sitting in his broken studio chair, writing songs and poems, Ian dreams of being on a concert stage.