Westside High School

MARCHING SOLDIERS

Because the leaves leave
their barracks.
Because they go to battle
with the wind.
Because when they fail in their
quest they are dead.
The war is never won
every creature know this
quarry it is called Fall.

Morgan Reynolds


The Night Light Fox

The lightning was a fox zipping behind
the darkness of a moonless sky. Flashing
from one cloud to another. Trying not
to be seen from the outside world.
Soundless and sneaky. Finally stopped by
the shot of sunshine.

Rachel Jackson


untitled

Confusion is blind, it has seen too much
Confusion is deaf, it has heard too much
Confusion gave up it has become too old

Paul Schulz


A Martian Sends a Postcard Home

It haunts me in the morning.
Yelling and screaming in my ear.
With my eyelids dragging the floor,
I can feel its jealous rage.
It’s a devil that never sleeps.
Tormenting with my head.
Piercing number stare at me as I sleep.
Watching every movement. Waiting to strike.
Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep!!!

McKayla Bittle


Panther

Black as night
cries coming from nowhere
stalking its prey

Zack Campbell


Case Study of Human 169

169 is a typical human teen
Or…at least it seems that way;
We are still pretty unfamiliar with humans.
Anyway, he starts his day by rolling off
his soft sleeping rock.
He stands up and reaches for his ceiling.
I don’t get that. I know he knows he
can’t touch it.
He then sniffs his underarms.
He makes a face in disgust.
Then he begins to put on layers of fur
He sniffs each article and makes a face
When he doesn’t make a face,
he applies the fur
He then spends his day staring at
a glowing box.
Then goes back to his rock.
…these guys are boring.

Randy Stepp


Untitled

Napoleon was very short
So short he would never pick an apple
One day as he sat under a apple tree
with the forest whispering away
he thought of an idea for ways to pick an apple
A bucket! he shouted
He would stand on a bucket
He got so close to the apples he could
smell the delicious scent.
He picked one and bit into it.
It was rotten

Justin Tedford


Colorful Box

The Box of wonder
fell from Heaven
The Box of wonder
hit a rainbow
the Box of wonder
transformed
the Box of wonder
gave color to the world.

Cody Perrine


Stolen Car

A red dodge was stolen &
found 900 miles away
in Arkansas with
no life in miles, but in
the area was 1,000 mosquitos
swarming the vehicle the
cops opened the door & found a hand
detached stuck to the wheel
The Arkansas Police
turned it to a murder case

William Dorney


Hot Pink Mustache

His mustache is hot pink.
He didn’t mean to dye it that
way. He thought he grabbed black
but grabbed hot pink by mistake.
Now everyone laughs when they
see his hot pink mustache.

Jasmine Garner


How to know for sure I’m at my house

There is a tree outside my window,
Half cut and seems broken.
A knot lays a few feet up this tree
that resembles a square…
Inside my kitchen,
Old tin and tile rest on the walls..
A woody smell, almost like cedar,
fills every room in the house.
My bedroom…
Every morning, a little bird sits on a bush
right beside my window..
Chirping loudly reminding me that this house
is only my house..
And it is unlike any other anywhere

Hailey Weathers


The Roman senator

The worried senator lamented the outcome.
Caesar had been a brother to him for countless
years
Why oh why didn’t he warn him?
Caesar’s blood shined a dark red on the
Senator’s hands.
His cries of help still echoed in the Senator’s
head, like a bad song going over and over
Why oh why hadn’t he stopped them?
Why did he join in with their plot?
Why did he kill his only friend?

Justin Tedford


Tunnel games

go dark then Bright
they scare children
not me
they are rough
sometimes smooth
Tunnel games do not smell

Cody Perrine


South Hills

The rolling Mountains, sweet rivers,
Shining Gold deep beneath the surface,
Fresh Air and fire-smoke, burning the wood,
The Car playing music to my left, the
Humming bird in the tree to My left
Beyond the leaves. The Whining lawn
Chair I sit on.

Shayanna Baxter


English is a Train

English is a locomotive train
on the tracks of tomorrow. She
is a fan of chess being played
by two ducks on a late afternoon
in Dallas, Texas. She looks down at
the top of Math’s head. English
is never right, but never wrong.
She drives a 2010 Chevy
Corvette down a gravel road, with
tires chewing at small dirty stones.
On the weekends, she plans for her
next busy week spent eating
candy with habaneros on top.
She uses no ketchup with chicken, no
cheese on her pizza, and no meat
on her burger. She listens to
soft classic with the volume on her
red stereo as high as the knob will
go. You might think English is a
bottom feeding fish, but she is a
cloud connecting a rainbow to its
pot of gold.

Cory Parsons


What This Poem Will Do

This poem can’t whistle, can’t ride a unicorn,
or do the Harlem shake, or use the
force, or play a guitar, or bend
fire, or squish cow archers, or do
fifty front flips in the air, or like
purple food, or chew with its mouth
open, or sing while it’s breathing, or
ride a pink flying unicycle, or
high five a bear, or find a wizard
friend, but this poem can jump, play video
games with wizards in it, eat blue food, dream
of high fiving a bear, laugh, run, jump 10 feet (or
just maybe 6 inches). This poem can be a fast talker,
have fun, ride fun rollercoasters, rhyme if
this poem wants, skateboard, listen to music,
draw unicorns, become rich.
This poem will go to Six Flags in Illinois
and ride the rollercoaster the Lions Gate!
All night you hear this poem crying
because unicorn-bears on fire are not
real.

Shawn Puckett


Untitled

For every rooster, there is a rainbow.
For every song, there is a riddle.
For every step, there is a fall.
For every long, jagged coat, there is a beautiful
black stallion.
For every wrong turn, there is a cooked
omelet that smells like fresh eggs, ham, & cheese.
For every sparkling star in the sky, there
is a dirty sink full of unwashed dishes.
For every worn out dream, there is an
energized child playing hopscotch in the yard.
For every love poem, there is a divorce.
For every tattered hat, there is a new
sewn blanket with squares of all colors.
There is time left to see all the
lights and gowns of today, no worries
upon the hillside you have crossed.

Rebecca McCormick


Dear Poetry

You spring. You dress as
shadows. You bounce out of
nowhere like a wolf. You can
make some cut deep like scissors.
You attack like a turkey with
words. But sometimes you can
be as bright as yellow. Strange
as Liz. You can go anywhere
at the tops like a caterpillar. But
you breathe on our hearts softly.

Osornio Antonia


Westside High School
Location: Hartman, AR
Date of Visit: October 3 – 4, 2013
Faculty Sponsor: Amy Blackmon
Grade Levels: 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12
Appx. Number Students Served: 160
Visiting Writers: Megan Blankenship, Michelle Myers, Jack O’Neal, Hank Pate, Scott Ray, and Diana Reaves