WHEN WILL THEY KNOW?
Everyday we play games and sing
never finding a way to talk.
we all dance and laugh out loud till the
We all sit down in English
listening to the poem, and speak.
But the thing is when will
they know me.
I’m quiet, and shy, I never speak out
We do stuff and work together
but never socialize.
So I say again when will
they realize me.
I’m from the 3am hospital trip
I’m from leaving and not coming back
I’m from the screaming home
I’m from the slamming doors and broken walls
I’m from the packing and unpacking
I’m from the laughing schools
I’m from the broken home
I’m from the traveling
I’m from the good and bad
I’m from the here and now
I’m from the forgiving and forgetting
but most of all I’m from the life worth living.
What Country Music Tastes Like
Country music, it’s hard to explain my feelings without
the ability to hear your sweet harmony, it’s like
I’m there on the white front porch on the farm hearing
the cattle “moo”! Just sitting in my rocking chair
just after church, enjoying the nice sunny afternoon.
I looked at the dirt road over the river and saw
a ’67 Chevrolet truck drive by. Without the ability
to hear, I taste and see the country music in
my life, it’s all around me.
November December January
Cold and harsh in the North
Yet still the children build snowmen.
How to Have a Good Party in a Nursing Home
Most nursing homes are gloomy and bland,
like a rainy day and asparagus mixed.
Spicing things up would be like bringing back spirit.
A perfect party to get things back and kickin’,
would be a bingo tournament
with dancing and laughs, and drinks flowing,
a mix of apple juice and Sprite like the
sparkling champagne from their younger days.
a party simply to bring back the memories
of their younger years.
During harsh winters
Tucked away in their cozy dens
Bears, bears, bears.
What I heard on a subway in New York City
As I get on I see a single mom in
depression, holding a crying baby, and
the conductor saying where’s your ticket ma’am.
In the back I see a group of guys that
look like they may be up to something, and
the frustration of a business man, late
for work with a cup of coffee spilled on
his pants. I finally sit down beside
a little girl and she said, did you
hear that, I said, no, the girl said,
what I heard was your stop to
Her gentle eyes, never judging
so full of love and peace.
No matter what you did or said
you were always welcomed,
all of this said with her eyes.
When I look in the mirror
those eyes I long to see
sadly no longer belong to me.
When she left she took them with her
Now the color of her eyes is all that remains
The eyes gazing back at me, they aren’t really mine.
Not anymore, not the eyes they were.
What remains in me?
Two holes that used to be a window.
The windows are dirty and broken.
Only a facade is left on my face.
Everything was together
Then it fell apart.
I cant comprehend why
I don’t know how you feel.
Mountainburg High School
Date of Visit: May 9 – 10, 2013
Location: Mountainburg, AR
Faculty Sponsor: Traci Kannett
Grade Levels: 10, 11, 12
Appx. Number Students Served: 150
Visiting Writers: Aran Donovan, Stefan De La Garza, Willi Goehring, and Hank Pate