Category: 12th

lightning and thunder tantrum
I muse in the pour, Mississippi up
impish children scream like they are being held for ransom
I allow the rain to fill my soul’s cup
What many see as nature’s wrath
I see as an artist’s patient craft
A bow strikes a cello in the clouds
Thunder her mellow vibration resounds
It takes me back to a younger time
when the scourge of thunderstorms shriveled even my mind
when my grandmother’s words did inspire
a gaze of wonder
that made thunder
seem meek heavenly not at a dire

---

Westwood

12

You are the artist that painted my happiness on the canvas of your own compassion
Your brush fashioned my reason for being vibrant when my mind wanted to be whited out
When I shouted out as my paper-shredder mindscape tore my own drawings to pieces
You were my escape, from that place where my deep fears had real shapes
I’m grateful for all that you’ve done. If there’s some way I can show,
Make you know how you turn my crooked stick figures into masterpieces
When the water colored the edges of my eyes you replaced my faded tones with vivid acrylic
I was a cynic with an acidic mind
A ballistic missile with a fistful of broken dreams
But then, brushstroke by brushstroke, you painted over my lost hope
Helped me cope when all I wanted was to just say nope
And leap off the edge of my own psychoses
You drew roses over my crown of thorns that I wore to make sure I was my own martyr
But you, with your mind, your heart, and a pencil, made me my own starter

---

Cedar Ridge High School

12

Words were always a roof
To shelter me when I had felt no joy
Don’t you understand what words are for me?
Haven’t you ever wanted a place where you felt safe?
Can you even see a roof through all of these words at all?
These aren’t
just words
For me there
the only place
where I can
live unharmed

---

Mcneil High School

12

Es desafiada con altas expectativas y con mucho gusto, toma el desafío.

Pero a veces…
Es insuficiente.

Pero el sagitario nunca quiere abandonar su búsqueda del éxito.

“No es que no quiero, es que no puedo,” le dice el sagitario a sus padres.

En un mundo lleno de gran desafíos,
lleno de corrupción,
lleno de personas sin moral,
Hay desafíos que encuentra
La más feliz de todos los signos zodiacales.

La depresión le consume su querer de viajar,
de platicar,
de aprender,
de lograr las metas,
de enfrentar obstáculos.

El sagitario pone una cara enmascarada,
una cara feliz.
Pero con un alma deprimida.

Quiere lograr, quiere aprender, quiere viajar, quiere enfrentar los obstáculos.

Quiere ser feliz y sonreir.

No se quiere derrotar por las expectativas.

Pero a veces…
Es insuficiente.

//

She is challenged with high expectations and with great pleasure, she takes the challenge head on.

But sometimes…
She just falls short.

But the Sagittarius never wants to abandon her search for success.

¨It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s that I can’t,” says the Sagittarius to her parents.

In a world full of challenges,
full of corruption,
full of people without morals,
There are challenges that find their way to
The happiest of all the zodiacs.

Depression consumes her desire to travel,
to socialize,
to learn,
to achieve her goals,
to confront obstacles.

The Sagittarius puts on a mask,
a happy face.
But has a depressed soul.

She wants to succeed, she wants to learn, she wants to travel, she wants to confront obstacles.

She wants to be happy and smile.

She doesn’t want to fall short of everyone’s expectations.

But sometimes…
She just falls short.

---

James Bowie High School

12

Wildflowers sprout from my skeleton,
wrapping around my bones and creating makeshift ligaments.
With each blooming flower my courage grows stronger,
my feet becoming velvety roots,
stubborn in their soil,
sure of themselves for once.
As my ribcage overgrows with tiger lilies
And birds of paradise and sunflowers,
My jaws unhinge in a cascade of
Carnations and blue bonnets and hibiscus stems.
I wear a flower crown of daisies upon my skull
To remind me that I am noble
And brave
And daring
And I rule this organic mess I call mine.

---

LC Anderson High School

12

Tho on land I may no longer be
I can see a cornfield on the sea
stripes of plankton occur and green seem to fulfill
the cotton fields white crested will
The deep blue water dips and sways
Imitating hill countries curvy ways
the rustle of wind through grass does weave
to the ears, the waves do as much to please
Snapper flesh like a bluegill tastes
I can devour them with no less haste
No matter what I may do or see
It all still feels like Texas to me

---

Westwood

12

Whenever I’m asked who I am, I falter
I freeze and I stutter, then I take a step back
2, 3, 4 steps back, and I turn around and run
Run to the recesses of my mind
The internal sandbox of sand and good excuses
Dig out the words I can use to cover my bruises
Something like “I don’t know”
Or “Ha ha, woah!”
That’s deep. I don’t know.

Though I don’t see why
I can at least try

I’m an optical illusion
I think I work this way but the real me works that way,
I’m a plane on a runway
I know, with 89% confidence, how to get from point A to point B
But I’ll never take off, that’ll never be me,
I’m a spaceman, a lost cosmonaut flung across isolated dimensions
across deserts of dying stars, with nothing to do but pray for absolutions
or a mercy that’s more permanent, more final…
I tell myself I am these things but I don’t know. This is hard.

This won’t be the poem where I tell you what I like
The truth is, I’m boring, and there’s not much I really dislike
This won’t be the poem where I tell you what I’m scared of
The truth is, the only thing that haunts me is me, what I’m made of
This won’t be the poem where I tell you why…
Why I love the rain but watching it from the window makes me cry…

And I’m sorry if I talk quietly or I mumble,
Or if this isn’t good enough,
But the truth is, when you’re so scared or ashamed of what you can do,
Or what you have done
You get shaky when you’re asked “who are you”?

Who are you?
Who are you? Speak up.
What’s wrong with you?

I was born suspended in water
In the rain on an island in the sea
From the day I was born, I wasn’t free

My parents brought me to the world
They gave me love, then they imprisoned me
I wasn’t free
Early on, I learned that everything had a cost
Mine came in the form of promises to my father
Obligations to Dad

He told me,
Our love brought you here, so you can’t be a painter
Can’t make animation or movies
Can’t write novels or scripts
The world has enough artists
If you want to be a creator, then go create money
You don’t need these dreams, there’s promise in stability

He told me,
You can’t bring us shame
You can’t tarnish our name
You can choose who you want to love
But on your wedding, the day of
I will not pretend to care
I promise I won’t be there
This is not a negotiation
There will be no more discussion

He told me,
My opposition is a felony
The quiet rebellions I commit make me a criminal
And like a criminal, I should be tucked away,
Contained behind a curtain of steel rods

I am not free.
I am not free.
But in indentured servitude, I subsist
In hidden pastimes I resist
I choose to create things. I draw and I write
I continue loving my boyfriend with all of my might
Because this is how I fight
Some part of me still wants to fight
But is this right? Will I be alright?
Some part of me still wants to fight, punch back, retaliate, engage!
But the larger part of me wants to crawl back to my cage…

In the sun I ignore, but at night I lay on the floor, my body so sore
My mind swelling like a boil
A pocket of pink wire knotted and tangled
Agitated and inflamed, bloating my head
Overflowing with thoughts, conflicted
Emotions, unchecked
Insanity, in effect

I’m Frankenstein’s monster: evil and scared, evil or scared

I resent things, I envy others,
I lash out, I hurt people,
I am malicious and a liar
I’m a serpent in the fire

I didn’t weep
I smiled and went back to sleep
When I was told he was in an accident
On the highway, a car with a crater, a dent
Despair in the house, why did they lament?
He didn’t die
He’s on standby
Right there, downstairs
Unscratched, limbs in both pairs
Still the warden of my jailhouse
Still the father of a mouse

Quiet, small, weak
A mouse.

I act like a fool but I follow the rules
I dance with defiance but hide my riots
Because my opposition is a felony
The quiet rebellions I commit make me a criminal
And I don’t know who I am,
I just… I just know I don’t want to be bad

---

Cedar Ridge High School

12

I recently sat down on a rock.
Evening had passed,
And in a long while,
I finally noticed the sky.

There were no trees around.
No buildings, no people.
Just me and the dark expanse.
I was intimidated
But I took off my headphones
And allowed the private session to begin.

I reached out my hand.
My fingers shrunk the closer they got to the stars.
Smaller and smaller,
As if my hands were instead feet
And were hoping to run away.
Eventually, black milk would engulf everything around me.

Then I noticed the stars.
Stationary fireflies,
Minute lighthouses,
Pinpoint diamonds,
Shining against a pit of pure oil,
A blanket of obsidian.

Each star whispered the stories they were told,
All the silly things people promised to them.
Most of them were beautiful and childish.
Some of them were tragic and bleak.
All of them made me look into myself,
Made me wonder,
Had I anything I needed to say?

With patient eyes, the stars waited for me to speak.
Now, I had to open my mouth,
And offer my words to the star-collared priest.
My voice would become permanent in the primordial soup.
Eternal and constant, for future dreamers to sit on rocks and listen to.
Now, I had to open my mouth,
And confess.

---

Cedar Ridge High School

12

there are buildings in a field
guarded by crows and the heavy veil of crying clouds
a crowd of children rush for safety,
swiftly to keep their tails from being bitten

come along, come along. don’t stray behind!

if one trails astray
eyes would prey
mouths would shrink and curve to the floor
come along fool, anyday fool

when the doors shut tight
there’d be no more light
in the eyes of a child left behind

in the courtyard, they assume different forms
boys would grow horns
girls would sprout thorns
stragglers would lose their feet
as they’re chased down through patches of wheat

above, above
the clouds darken
above, the crows swim in schools
forming oily pools
wisps of black feathers that blot out the sky
coordinated swoops
harmonious loops
a dance and a caw
not a single flaw

the stragglers try to run
as the children have their fun

come along, come along, they said
come seek safety in the Castle of Crows

---

Cedar Ridge High School

12

Your smile is the warmth that heats my cold heart
Your eyes widen as they focus on me and your heart
beats faster when I touch you
Everything about you I could fall in love with again
Your long hair falls deep just as I did for you
So beautiful in so many ways
You say you gonna change me but I’ve already
changed the second I laid eyes on you
You claim I’m yours but you aren’t mine till I tie a loop
on your finger
You aren’t mine till I’m the first thing you think of day
and night
And you aren’t mine until you wanna spend every time
you have with me
My soul
My heart
And myself belongs to you
For who would I be without you teaching me how to be
better
A kiss from you sends a sensation throughout my
whole body leaving me thirsty for more
You flirt with your eyebrows when your lips do no
talking
And you kiss with your heart when your tongue touches
mine
You wanna be here when I go through my hardest
times
And I wanna be there no matter how much you push
me away

---

Cedar Ridge

12