THE OLD ONES OF LORE
This one cried from the heart-wrenching noise
This one feared the unbearable future
This one screamed at the horrific sight
This one said never again to the
Old ones of lore
This one was terrified of her abusive father
This one hated the supportive mother
This one clawed at her ugly sister
This one said never again to the
Old ones of lore
This one died from Shame
This one murdered the father
This one went to the funeral
This one said never again to the
Old ones of lore
Caroline Henry
Angel Kisses
Why is the grass green?
A paint ball fight got out of hand.
Why do you brush your teeth?
So the teeth trolls won’t make a home in your pearly whites.
Why is everyone taller than me?
Once you turn 11, you embark on a quest and if you complete it,
The gift of growth is given to you.
Why are there stars in the sky at night?
A teacher had too many gold star stickers
so she used her flying carpet to stick them in the sky.
Why do I have so many freckles?
The angels kissed your sweet round face more than the others.
And darling, these truths will get you through, as long as you don’t look too close.
Vivian Boe
Her Kind
I have transferred ideas of my imagination
to visuals on innumerable blank pages
I have sculpted scenes of my life into the soft clay
I have glided my brush along blank
canvases depicting emotions
I have been her kind
I have tapped the ivory keys
to let you hear my heart’s melody
I have glided my fingers across the
strings to make them hear my voice
without me speaking
I have been her kind
I have cared for her and will always protect her
I have held her close intending to never let go
I have made a vow to keep her safe
I have been her kind
Kayla Bulmanski
Weather Poem
Tears of fallen angels land on my fingers,
caressing my hands before freefalling
into the soft soil, praying for a job,
a role to fulfill their eternities with. As fast
as it came, the clouds ran away,
giving the little bud room to come out and play.
Children tell stories of beasts
roaming under the mattresses, stealing
their toys and things close to them.
Some children have creatures perched inside
their closets, devouring everything they
put in there. But my monsters don’t live
in my house and steal my socks, they live
in my mind and they steal my memories.
Savannah Combs
On Turning 12
When I was 5, people were potential friends
waiting to happen, like diamonds to be mined
When I was 8, my friends and I were an
unstoppable army, united as a whole
When I was 10, I wanted to make any impression
I wanted people to know me for a specific trait
Not unlike a singer known for a
One-hit wonder
I wanted to be heard
When I was 12, I shut up
My mouth turned off like a light bulb
I wanted people to pay as much attention
To me as they did to the oxygen they breathed
Now, people were separated, clique-y
And I didn’t want to stand out.
Katie O’Malley
Up, Up, Up
We all put our hands up
I hear people’s cries
A fan feels like it is blowing us away
The clicking soon comes to an end
Regan Moore
Paris
The city of love, the city of fashion
A city world renowned
The pace seems slower like deer grazing through
a field of daisies.
The Eiffel Tower steals attention like a drama queen at school
Versailles shines as if royalty still lives inside its
walls of life of luxury and class
Shouts of words I don’t know
Buildings placed so delicately as in an art museum
The scent of bread floats through the town
As musicians at street corners play their songs
hoping it’s good enough to survive another day
The Seine , an intermission between the scenes of a play
The city of dreams, the city for me
Claire Althoff
For Sale
The ring of New Mexico, never touched
engraved locket stiff and sterling,
a reflecting cross.
Emma Foley
Ice Cube Melting in Desert
a blank orange canvas drizzling around me.
the faint noise of sand whipping in all directions
in constricted sessions, to-and-fro
the steady flow of clear liquid as it drains
smaller, smaller
a blur, then nothing.
Kathryn Studer
Untitled
Refrigerator smells like fingers
There is a dead fly laying on the floor.
A giant motionless puddle in the green sink.
The wind outside whistles in the storm.
My sister sound asleep on the table
You start to jog in circles.
My sister twitches.
It became silent except the sound of a chameleon.
Makayla Briggler
The Party
Those who have ridden across the plains of
Africa in a Barbie Jeep
Those who have actually returned to see
Mr. Alligator after saying goodbye
Those who have been awoken by their parrot
jamming to “Best of the 90s” in the shower
Those who have tried to balance a light switch
between the on and off position
Those who can successfully eat the portion size
recommended when feasting on Oreos
Those who have come across the tragedy of
arriving at their destination
Kayla Bulmanski
Baby Oil
Mopping baby oil on the kitchen floor
Ants working on my legs.
Green watery pancakes flying over my head
Heavy sounding winds.
My sister slides on the floor.
“You stop that”
Said my sister
Chameleons crawl out of the dishwasher.
Maya Johnson
Untitled
pigs running from the old hungry farmer.
squeals of the newborn piglets
hiding in the evening shadows
dinner being poured into our trough
the sweet taste of potatoes and carrots
before the knife comes crashing down.
Hannah Smith
Fall to Winter
Leaves fall steadily to the
frosted ground. A chilly wind
flows through my hair like
a stream. I hear the soft
putter of squirrels racing
among the trees. The sweet hot
chocolate burns my throat
but warms my stomach. The
firewood burning is intoxicating
to my brain and I know
that winter is coming.
Maggie Donlon
Mount St. Mary Academy
Little Rock, AR
Date of Visit: September 30 – October 3, 2013
Faculty Sponsor: Maureen Stover and Tippy McCullough
Grade Level: 9
Appx. Number Students Served: 300
Visiting Writers: Stu Dearnley, David Kinzer, Alice Otto, and Eszter Takacs