Tuesday, June 28, 2022

The Sandlot Movie Review by Difan Li

 The Sandlot Movie Review by Difan Li

The Sandlot is a classic coming-of-age film produced in 1993. The movie follows a group of young boys, and in particular, Scott Smalls and Benny Rodriguez. Smalls is a new boy that moves into the neighborhood and struggles to make friends. Benny invites him to join his group, a mishmash of baseball players that spend their days at the sandlot playing ball. Smalls repeatedly embarrasses himself by his inability to play ball but with the encouragement of Benny, finds his way into the group. It is later when Smalls himself in a whole heap of trouble involving a baseball signed by Babe Ruth and a giant gorilla dog named the Beast, that he discovers the true meaning of childhood and friendship and Benny finds his courage and determination for greatness. This movie is a hilarious comedy that is both silly and inspirational and captures the joys of youth. I personally find it to be really endearing because it is a movie I first saw several years ago, introduced to me by my sister, and it has repeatedly found its way back onto the TV screen at two or three times a year. It portrays everything in a very comical light, and shows things from the perspective that you might expect from a group of young boys. This creates a fun, lighthearted mood that is kept up throughout the movie. You might be able to see yourself reflected through the characters and even relate to some of the reckless and oftentimes childish acts that they commit. I recommend giving this movie a go and you’ll certainly be up for a great ride!

Wednesday, June 22, 2022

Rome, a poem by Abhinav Aradhi




Tu es vir foedus,

Sed ego ad tu curro.



I am a sultry man,

But I get so inflamed with passion when I see you.



Tu es vir piger,

Sed ego tu magnissimus amo.



I am a foolish man,

But when I see you all the nerves in my brain align.


We conquer each other,





Ego te amo, viri mei.

 Aeternum et semper.

Vineyard, a poem by Abhinav Aradhi



Lowbrow ideals

And people who indulge in them

Like wine in its vintage

Fermented and demented,


Forever intertwined

Like grapevines all tangled in gossip

And people who want to rule the world

And people who stray away from the mold


And perish for it, like wicked fools.

Tragic, wicked, fools.









Child Star, a poem by Abhinav Aradhi


Child Star

All I wanted for you was to be adored,


Preyed upon like a carnivore

In a butcher shop.


And all you ended up wanting

Was solitude,

And the simple pleasures of

Vegetable pastures.


We both wanted different shades of green,

Mine glitzy and lined with velvet,

Yours in stems and spring.






Tepid, a poem by Abhinav Aradhi



Everything is overwhelming

And crushes me like the weight

Of a billion worlds on my spine

Because that’s what it feels like, sometimes.


Words, they camp out in my mouth,

And refuse to step an inch out,

Or they come out as timid whispers,

And mumbles, light speed.


Nothing I can do about it.

Forever and onward

Overthinker, a poem by Abhinav Aradhi



He’s a weird little

Twisted up fool

Who’s caught up in nothing

But his own roaming thoughts.


And no one seems to care

About the things he’s obsessive about

But he continues to jabber to the air,

And plagues his mind with unnecessary burdens.


He gets wrapped around

In the threads of others lives

And is heartbroken when their novellas

Don’t go the way they glimmered in his dreams.


And he’s so entrapped in his mind

That he sees nothing but pink flesh and doubt

But he continues to slip around in the cerebrospinal

Thinking about people he’ll never meet.


He’s got a flair for the dramatic

That spikes up when he’s alone

And he mutters to himself like a maniac

Because otherwise he’d bubble up and



And the cracked parts of his life

Seem ungodly to him

So he floats away on the clouds of the rest

Unaware of his little flotilla dissipating.


He feels betrayed when the people he follows

Online and in reality

End up becoming versions of themselves

He didn’t anticipate.


And the whole world seems to him

A frightening, horrific place

So he takes solace in escaping

Off to a psychotic space.


He gets high on imagination

Then falls flat on his face

Because no matter what he seems to think of

All the harshness never leaves.


A prisoner of his obsession,

He toils away in perpetual thinking.



Tuesday, June 7, 2022

Echelon, a poem by Abinav Aradhi



Midnight rambles,

And thorn wrought brambles,

Traipsing along a trellis up the mansion wall,

And the road outside is still.


There’s a billion bodies in there,

And the road outside is still.


Jewels sparkle gladly on the throats of corpses.