small in size
full of spirit
and one hazy eye
she’s yellow in
spring, and dim
The broken ceiling fan in the center of the kitchen,
The television and video game console to the right of the
front door, and to the left of the hall.
The lawn mower that sits in the pale blue shed on the far
right end of the backyard.
The lamps which bathe the living room and bedrooms
with a stream of light.
The deadbolt on the door to the right of the couch.
The radio in the largest bedroom that always is on.
The old computer in the den that stores every picture that
contains memories of times past.
The earbuds that listen to the music of men long gone.
Since I ran away
Since I started living life
Since I ate my first meal
Since I got my first friend
Since I shot myself in the foot with my 22
Since then I have not been the same
Since I don’t want cancer
Since I don’t want to live in the bathroom
Since I don’t want to live in pain
Since I want to have kids
Since I want to be acne free
I’ll always eat gluten free food.
The town shook like a violent earthquake, ripping
the nails from the dim walls of every home &
business. Citizens held onto their doorways, hid
under stairwells but this was no new occurrence.
Mother Nature had a vengeance, inflicting constant
pain wherever she could & everyone knew.
They knew that the winters would be
longer than any other season & that the
summers only brought drought. They knew
that their ancestors disinterest for the only
Earth they had was the cause. So, they
sat. They sat & tried to stop the fear
from showing because they knew
it did no good.
The old oak tree in my backyard
the tiny wasp by the fridge
the torn teddy bear with cold lifeless eyes
the iPhone when its battery loses life
the land around me, covered in old scars
And the human soul when all hope is lost
The Bee Speaks
The sweet and succulent scent calls to me
The rainbow of petals shimmers in my sight
I don’t want the biggest flower of the crop
I want the one smallest of all
The tangy nectar tingles my lips
A steamy satisfaction slides down my throat
The fiery arms of the sun rub my wing
As I fall victim to nectar’s sweet escape
Sometimes I hold coffee,
clutched by the hands
of suited men racing through
the rain to the safe haven
of a car.
Sometimes I’m dropped and
broken by a cat heading towards
the juicier prize of a
piece of cheese left from
Occasionally I’m reused before I’m
thrown away, in an attempt
to need less of me.
Rarely I’ll be spilled, onto
the lap of someone trying
to impress someone else.
But I’m always put away,
or thrown away, because I’m
just for the moment, like
a breath of air, or a
drink of water.
Arkadelphia High School
Dates of Visit: April 30 – May 1, 2018
Faculty Sponsor: Sean Queen
Grade Levels: 9
Appx. Number Students Served: 131
Visiting Writers: Collin Callahan, Sacha Idell, Samantha Kirby, Sacha Idell, Anna Vilner