Category: 2016-17 Submissions

Red clashed with yellow.
Blue clashed with white.

Clouds
unfinished
thoughts of white and grey
floated across
the sky
like a herd
of castaways.

Trees of all races
stood exhausted
in their kingdoms
of grass.

Leaves of all ethnicities
scattered
to the ground.

Grey staled the pale
aged concrete
placed without meaning
carelessly.

A rainbow of wrappers
flee’d their bonds of death
clinging to the freedom
of nature.

The light breath
of a warm winter
strained against
the arms of the trees.

And there
opposed to social norms
scattered the inhabitants
of higher standing.

Colors only matched in the eyes
of complexity.

Movements could never be
understood
by the simplicity of nature.

Yet everything seemed connected.

Where do I fit in?

---

Bowie High School

11

I reached for the pen, but the emptiness in my heart shocked my hand. I trusted him. I believed he cared. He was my friend, and he told them I did it. My skin throbbed where it was cut, but my heart was what hurt. I sobbed, but light found path into the windowless room, when I found the strength to write.

---

Casis Elementary

4th

I am a raindrop wild
Sitting in a pond so mild
It’s boring here each day
With nothing to do, nothing to say
Some fellow raindrops got slurped up
By a flock of thirsty ducks
I wouldn’t want to meet that fate
Inside a duck does not sound great

But one day I started to rise
Slowly soaring to the skies
I began to break into droplets so small
You could barely see me at all
The other droplets broke up too
And floated with me in the blue
I asked the sun what this thing was
He replied as he usually does

“It’s called evaporation, Child,
But you aren’t still a raindrop wild
You’ve simply taken a new form
Why, Child, you’ve been reborn!
I’ve changed you into gas, you see
And a gas is what you shall be
Water vapor is your new name,
But that will not stay the same.”

Higher and higher I soared
I began to condense, I was no longer bored
We clumped together drop by drop
The cold air blew, we couldn’t stop
Squeezing tighter and tighter, packed within
Ominous, gray, battered by wind
I asked the sun, “What is this thing?”
When the sun answered he seemed to sing
“it’s called condensation, Child,
But you are still a raindrop wild
You’ve simply taken a new form
Why, Child, you’ve been reborn!
All the droplets clumped together
To bring a bit of weather.
A cloud is your new name,
But that will not stay the same.”
We grew so heavy, I started to drip
Pilp! Plop! We slid and we slipped
Beginning a sprinkle and ending a downpour
Lightning zip and thunder roar
Water falling from the sky
Crashing, splashing from the high
Oh! It was just so fun.
“I’ll tell you what it is, ” said the sun.
It’s called precipitation, Child,
But you are still a raindrop wild
You’ve simply taken a new

 

6

Into the car,
through the school day,
out the bus,
inside the car,
past the shop,
toward the club,
near mayfield,
with the cacti dye,
by the warm watery embrace,
Dive!

---

Casis Elementary

4th

A kind lone snowflake,
drifting down to the pathway,
one of quick water

---

Casis Elementary

4th

Love, the beauty in our hearts, it shines, and it blooms, with the beauty of a flower and becomes a tree, sprouting from our hearts, until it reaches another with a heart bloomed, until, the miracle happens, they connect and together they forever flourish.

---

Casis Elementary

4th

We came to a stop,
the door opened
and a thick air filled the car
and creeped into my lungs.
I cough and sniffle,
dirt covers my face.
As we walk down the streets
of red, orange, blue and green houses,
mix matched tall and short, big and small
made of twig cement or bricks
Fruit stand, carts selling make-up
tacos and aguas frescas
line the block and barefooted children run everywhere
asking for food or money.
I can feel the warmth in every step I take
to get my grandma’s house.
I hear “bien” and “como estas,”
a language that

I am a raindrop wild
Sitting in a pond so mild
It’s boring here each day
With nothing to do, nothing to say
Some fellow raindrops got slurped up
By a flock of thirsty ducks
I wouldn’t want to meet that fate
Inside a duck does not sound great

But one day I started to rise
Slowly soaring to the skies
I began to break into droplets so small
You could barely see me at all
The other droplets broke up too
And floated with me in the blue
I asked the sun what this thing was
He replied as he usually does

“It’s called evaporation, Child,
But you aren’t still a raindrop wild
You’ve simply taken a new form
Why, Child, you’ve been reborn!
I’ve changed you into gas, you see
And a gas is what you shall be
Water vapor is your new name,
But that will not stay the same.”

HIgher and higher I soared
I began to condense, I was no longer bored
We clumped together drop by drop
The cold air blew, we couldn’t stop
Squeezing tighter and tighter, packed within
Ominous, gray, battered by wind
I asked the sun

sounds foreign now
and I realize; I’ve missed this place, my home.

---

Fulmore Middle School

8

Heaving,
salty liquid
chokes,
sand scraped
knees and
elbows.

You force breath,
burning eyes,
and land
on its unwavering form.

Once one with it,
sure to be there for the rest of eternity.
Cold, blue bloated body
lost among the fish and coral.

Lost concentration,
diverted by the cerulean tint,
unconscious of approaching waves.

Washing over you,
filling lungs,
uselessly fighting.
Flailing limbs,
limp after several moments.

Unaware how you got to shore,
hazzines encompases you.
It must have spit you out,
once the dark overcame you.

You know it to be merciless at times,
pushing the body and the mind,
forcing you to fight for whatever you’ve come to it for.

It’s allure transfixing,
morbid curiosity daring you to jump back in,
let the harsh waves provide the comfort you crave.

It’s a safe harbor,
and its cruel,
and you’ll never be able to drag
yourself away from it.

 

Many fear you, but I find comfort in your dark endless feel

To be alone with your mind at such an hour can help

Your thoughts organize themselves into good and bad.

It’s just me, myself, and I in a room I know all too well.

No one comes knocking with dishes that need doing

Or with animals that need walks or clothes that need folding.

From 11 to 6 there is this silent peace is the world that

No one pays attention to-those hours due to the sleep

We all succumb to due to the day’s work mere hours earlier.

In those hours society expects nothing from you.

Those are the few hours you are truly free to do what you wish.

You hold more secrets than the universe holds stars:

Secrets between lovers, and conversations with friends

That will never see the light of day.

I can thank you for the open door to creative works that come

From the loneliness you bring.

People say they change when you come, but I think they feel more free when the sun goes down and

You lift the pressure of daily expectations,

You offer a sort of freedom when the city sleeps and

Only few dare to wander the streets

In fear of those who don’t.

You are the lonely person’s love

And the couple’s cover.

People use your acceptance to hide what they do

From the accusing light of day.

So many compliment your beauty

But don’t stay awake to truly admire you.

Then the sun rises and those who slept

Wake to the sun’s warm embrace and

Those who didn’t excitedly await

Your next arrival.

 

Anderson HS

10