Category: 2018-19 Submissions

I have a sister and I feel different emotions with her. Sometimes I am angry, sad, happy and disappointed with her. But at the end she is still my sister and I still love her.

---

Govalle Elementary

4

They make me whole
They make me realize my
own worth
And not once have they
loved anything but all of
me

Identity is strange
But I’ve loved finding
mine with you
Beautiful and intelligent
No label could ever veer

He, She, They,
What’s the difference?

I only see them for them
And I love this love

---

Early College High School

11

Aquatic life glides across a canvas screen
and I enjoy the false magic,
because the advertisers hugging children with
plastic arms, always guarantee
a future enthrallment.

But I want to go beyond the glass that makes
Aquariums two dimensional projections in classrooms,
to finally slice the restless
waves, burying identical suburbs
under castles of sand.

I will find the white whale that protects
my saltwater heart.
Soon, the depths will procure
a gleaming token of independence.

For now I settle, with the cheap
string of pearls pressing
against my neck.

---

James Bowie High School

12

Walls
Walls that have seen me grow up.
A small girl who ran and played.
Every sleepover, play date, and mess that was made.
Seen every fight and every night that I cried.
It’s seen toys and decorations go,
and said goodbye to friends that I used to know.
Seen hundreds of movies and read many a book.
watched me eat meals my mom would cook.
Seen my changes in style and clothes.
Watched me dance and put on shows.
Seen dusting, vacuuming, and complaining galore.
Seen mountains of clothes bury the floor.

And in all these years the walls have filled.
Become wrapped like a present in posters, calendars and poster boards.
Now the time has come to unwrap the silent watcher.
The four walls that surrounded me.
Almost like stripping a museum of its history,
the posters and paper come down.

I look at the blank walls and only now I realize,
that they’ve been looking back at me all along.

---

Stony Point High School

10

A snowy mountain cap within the grass,
as malleable as clay, the lamb
cross-eyed, gazing
at paper wings of a butterfly
suspended in light.

On the opposite side of the range,
the closeness of flanks disrupt any chance
of sleep. The sheep climb
over rusting machinery
To the sound of assembly line bells and tv static.

Wrapped in rainbow blankets,
the sheep decay in their unmarked graves.
Both domesticated followers, victim
to shining shears that snip away wool in clumps

Leaving a rash of pink flesh,
vulnerable and guilty, an empty manger
littered with crushed straw. Heartbreak then
begins to ebb away, eroding
as it always does.

---

James Bowie High School

12

What once was Parisian dreams,
slinks out of the warm sun
with a hint of abandonment.

The museum is silent now,
Except for the falling glass tears
of the nameless;
a weeping woman.

Critic muse the final piece,
sipping their acrylics, blended with
a dash of red wine.
Gripping the stem of their glasses with moldable judgement.

They place authenticity
Upon the staircase of eyes
enshrined in agony,
encased in oil.

Disjointed limbs slice
The composition.
A period of deep blues becomes
violent and bright.

The minotaurs are unleashed.
And the scattered fragments leftover
from their massacre, are hung in gold
and called cubism.

---

James Bowie high school

12

Seeping sands of an hourglass
A graceful, solemn stream
Trickling down, oblivion waiting

Looming on the edge of a chasm
A fleeting unknown unfurling over the
Seeping sands of an hourglass

Feelings of unease bloom
Deepening with a surge of dread-
A graceful, solemn stream

A pounding rhythm, a drum-like beat
Sound spilling over shards
Trickling down, oblivion waiting

---

Ann Richards

9

If home is where the heart is,
I don’t think I live here.
If home is where the heart is I’m far, far away,

If home is where the heart is,
I don’t think I belong here.
With my heart so far gone,
And being so different in comparison,

If home is where the heart is,
I think I need to change.
There’s so many things I haven’t done.
I’ve never lived on my own, or been to Pride.

Mother I’m telling you,
If home is where the heart is,
Home is not here,
And I don’t think this has been home,
Not in a very long time at least.

---

C.D. Fulkes Middle School

8

Time is weird, especially as a student.
You either have too much, or not enough.
You’re either bored, or you’re stressed.
It’s either you’re hanging upside down from the furniture scrolling through social media,
Or you’re cramped over yourself as you try to finish that last assignment at 2:00 AM.
It almost seems like there is no in between,
There is no ‘Just in Time’.
At least not anymore,

---

C.D. Fulkes Middle School

8

Light is funny that way
you see,
Darkness flees at its sight,
Its gleam reveals things hidden with all man’s might,

But in gluttony it yields another blindness.

Thus to live in darkness is to have acquired
A keener vision of things most inquired

Retreat therefore,
From the flashing lights,
Into the still quiet darkness–
awaiting sight’s completion.

Away from that place with all that radiance,
That place where everyone pretends to see

---

McNeil High School

11