What would happen if you
live always in relation with others
The strange sight results from
a new ways of seeing reality
Imagine a single particle
The entire fabric of our lives
quests throughout our lives
are considered positive
Strengthen my will
The spoon appears to be broken
Open my eyes to see you
Think about what happens
When you respect each other
That are both positive and negative
Imagine a pine needle falling from the tree above
Like a chicken casserole, still clucking
Kind of like New Year’s Eve, just quieter
I don’t know, maybe a hive five from your dad when you score a goal.
As if it’s fresh snow packed together.
Imagine strobe lights during a funeral
All because of lovoo…
Maybe an ear ache at your great aunt’s weeding,
Or a splinter that you’ve had for three weeks
I don’t know, maybe a runny nose, with no tissue in sight
And that my friends is lovoo.
Whoever is dead will stay dead
After a day, though, they are still vibrant,
ideas they had still thriving, and belongings being sold.
After a month, the deceased slowly deteriorate.
Their favorite color begins to be lost, and whether
they used rose or mint perfume is suddenly wondered.
By the time a year has passed, can anyone remember their name?
Or their eye color?
After two, the dead vanish with their memories.
Can you even remember their name?
Of course the dead stay dead.
We’re too occupied to keep them alive.
This is just to say
I have found Waldo in the book.
He had red on, it me took me 4
seconds, less time than it took you.
I circled him on ever page
because I know you have trouble with
these kinds of things.
It’s okay though, maybe one day.
Anne Marie Toomer
I felt an outing in my brain
I felt an outing in my brain.
A simple one that your grandmother tells you never to do,
on the edge of a recline, gripping the metal bars till my
knuckles seem as white as the looming clouds.
A splay of brown and blonde hairs, defying the wind and
our consistent laughs, whirl around into my open mouth and
distorting the empty houses that pass by.
And by the time a collected turtled is hissing in the front seat,
we’re running barefoot on the lake sand, avoiding glass bottles and deer tracks.
We’ll disturb the sparkling, still water with
burning bug bites and eager eyes until our fingers and toes wrinkle in defeat.
And chasing the sun to the house, our traces of summer
bliss with dry off as if it never happened.
Confidence is as rare as a shooting star
when you see the flashing golden beam
you capture the image in your brain
like a camera takes a picture of an
ordinary family posing for their Christmas card
Suddenly the star stops and leaves
from your eye sight never to return for
another decade when the years have
finally trudged on for another dreadful ten years
your blue eyes will be searching the star filled
sky for the one gorgeous golden star to return
and maybe it will stay for awhile longer.
Laura Jo Randall
He shelters me from the hard
pressing heat of the day. Cooling
my skin, his old wrinkles are
visible in the soil while his web
like hands reach toward the
nourishing sunlight. He shelters
me in the rain. And dazzles me
with his red and yellow jacket
when the heat drops. He does
not notice time or suffer pain,
he has just always been there,
and there he will always be.
I Felt a Car Collision in My Brain
I felt a car collision in my brain
and heard the lightning strike a
pine, the glass formed imprints
on the walls of my reason,
a dripping of oil that needed
dilution, the salty taste of a
rusted engine, I could see
this image as a car passed
The water tastes like vanilla Febreeze just sprayed in a moving car
The Fed Ex Forum smelled of dripping sweat and burnt popcorn from miles away
The cheeseburgers tasted like a burning hot potato with butter splattered on top and eaten before the butter had time to melt.
The Mississippi River looks like a piece of untried bacon on a skillet ready to be cooked.
Laura Jo Randall
My arms are weights
with empty anchors on the end
I, the springy spider Lily,
am now a sweater
an elderly sweater
Words are losing meaning
as my once green eyes,
Then a spark of something
loud and bitter
crackles in my ear.
My companion for many years,
comes again tomorrow.
Freedom is the raindrops escaping from the dark grey clouds,
Freedom is the sun rising at dawn to greet the tired world,
Freedom is the waves coming in contact with the burning sand,
Freedom is the joy of finishing a stressful school day,
Freedom is the excitement of meeting a new person,
Freedom is the happiness of knowing you are loved.
Freedom is when everyone is happy,
what everyone deserves,
where everyone belongs.
I wanted to be a lion.
I wanted to be a lion so brave and bold
I wanted to never be afraid of the dangers that face me
to sit on the tallest rock and look down on my enemies.
Showing ever animal that I am not afraid, & have no fear.
I wanted to have no fear and show every animal that
I am not afraid of anything.
I wanted to sit on the tallest mountain and shine down to everything.
to never want to be scared of danger.
I just want to be so brave & so bold.
I just want to be The Lion.
Mount St. Mary Academy
Little Rock, AR
Date of Visit: September 29 – October 2, 2014
Faculty Sponsor: Maureen Stover
Grade Level: 9
Appx. Number Students Served: 240
Visiting Writers: Cheyenne Autry, Megan Blankenship, Josh Idazsak, David Kinzer