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A COOL SHARK CAR

The Arkansas Writers In The Schools Anthology1991

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The Arkansas Writers in the Schools Program is a project of theArkansas Arts Council, the National Endowment for the Arts, and theUniversity of Arkansas at Fayetteville. The program is staffed bymembers of the University's Programs in Creative Writing andTranslation.

Co-Directors: J'laine Robnolt and Robert M. WallaceProject Coordinator: Michael Heffernan

We wish to thank all of the students, educators, and administratorswho participated in WITS during the 1990-1991 school year andsupported the program with donations and enthusiasm. We alsowish to express our deep appreciation to the following people whomake WITS possible: Sharon Pyka of Research Accounting; Dr.Keneth Kinnamon, Chairman of the Department of English; Dr. LeoVan Scyoc, Associate Chairman and Director of Composition; RhondaBenish, Office Manager of the English Department;English Department secretaries Shelly Efird and Elizabeth Sutton; Dr.Don Ousterhout, Director of Research and Sponsored Programs; Dr.John Stokes, Assistant Director of Research and Sponsored Programs;and the members of the staff of Printing Services, who have givengenerously of their time each year.This year's anthology title is based on a drawing received by RichardMatthews from a student at Baldwin Elementary in Paragould.

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PARTICIPATING SCHOOLS

Anderson Elementary, CrossettBaldwin Elementary, ParagouldBeebe Elementary, BeebeBiggers-Reyno Elementary and High School, Biggersand ReynoBooneville High School, BoonevilleDumas High School, DumasFarmington Elementary, FarmingtonFordyce Middle School, FordyceFountain Lake Elementary, Hot SpringsGreenbriar Elementary and Middle School, GreenbriarHoratio High School, HoratioHot Springs Middle School, Hot SpringsJohn Tyson Elementary, SpringdaleLockesburg Elementary and Junior High School, LockesburgLonoke Elementary, LonokeMarvell Primary, MarvellOur Lady of the Holy Souls, Little RockParkin Elementary, ParkinPea Ridge Elementary and High School, Pea RidgePrairie Grove Upper Elementary, Junior High, and HighSchool, Prairie GroveRinggold Elementary, BentonRose Bud Elementary, Rose BudSheridan Junior High School, SheridanSpringdale High School, SpringdaleSt. Theresa' s School, Little RockVan Buren Junior High School, Van BurenVan -Cove Elementary, CoveVilonia Elementary, ViloniaVilonia Junior High School, ViloniaWest Elementary, ParagouldWickes Gifted and Talented Program, WickesWynne High School, Wynne

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VISITING WRITERS

Brad BarkleyPatty CommerfordHeather DoyalLee DurkeeJhon EmeryAndy FoxJames FrankCharles FreelandKathryn GessnerKris KirkGraham LewisJames LovelRichard MatthewsIan MorrisSusan PeraboDavid PrattJay PrefontaineSonya ReevesJ'laine RobnoltKenneth SmedleyDan SmollaRandolph ThomasJohn ThompsonGrant VeceraRobert M. WallaceDavid WestSteve YatesBob Zordani

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THE ARKANSAS WRITERS IN THE SCHOOLS ANTHOLOGY1991

ART DIRECTOR: JOHANNAH BOMSTERCOMPUTER CONSULTANT: ANDY FOXEDITOR: J'LAINE ROBNOLT

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ANDERSON ELEMENTARYCROSSETT, ARKANSASFaculty Contact: Mary Jane Bell ManningVisiting Writers: Richard Matthews and Ian MorrisDecember in CrossettDecember in Crossett smellslike pine strawfrom Christmas trees.It looks like white shavingcream on the ground.It feels like cold cold icein your hand.I t sounds like people singing

carols.I t tastes like sweet candy.Jenny DonaldsonI Am an EarringI dangle off someone's ear,But I cannot hear.Sometimes I'm an animal.I could be a shape,Or I could be an ape.I could be a flower,Or the Eiffel Tower.I am bright and pretty colors,And I have many brothers.Stella SchuellerWindThe wind is a cool breezeflying through the air.I go in places everywhere.I am not afraid of anyonebecause I am only air.Kelly Gray

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My RoomMy room dirtyMy room trashyMy room bigMy room junkyDouglas, 4th GradeThe BaseballI am a base ballflyin' through the airI feel the bat hitting me,sending me flying throughdespair.I taste the bitternessof the glove at the end

of my journey.Roy LangstaffI Am a RattlesnakeI hear my tail rattling,I feel mosquitos sucking myblood,I smell the dirt getting in myeyes,I taste the grass getting on mytongue,I see a lawnmower coming atme.Jason Hughes

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The GhostI see shaking shudders.I hear the door beating in thewind and the hooting owls.I smell the fresh fish on theshore.I taste the stickiness of thecobwebs.I feel the coolness of the nightand the moon coming up.Nancy GreshamI Am a FootballI see players charging at me,I hear helmets crashing by me,I feel like I'm going to throwup,I smell sweat and hot popcorn,I taste dirt flying in my face.Danny SchuethI Am a Small KittenI smell my mother tryingTo bathe me as I run away.I feel her rough tongue lickingmy face.I hear my brothers and sistersmeowing at my mother.I taste the milk frommy mother.But I cant see a thing.Jamie Willis

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I Am a FrogI taste the bugs in my mouth.I smell their guts being crushebetween my teeth.I see their wings flappingas I try to catch them.I hear the crickets chirping.Joey Fletcher

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BALDWIN ELEMENTARYPARAGOULD, ARKANSASFaculty Contact: Christy BlackshearVisiting Writers : James Lovel and Richard Matthews

Arkansas AcrosticArkansas is where I liveRice, wheat, and com are foodsKilling living deer is a hobbyAnybody that wants to come, doNobody can only come onceSay, what state are you from?Arkansas is where to live-Seriously, please come.Rachel WoodI Am a White FlowerI am a white flower.When it rains, I take a shower.I smell fresh fall days.When it's winter, I smell themDifferent ways.I taste the grass .I eat it fast.Sometimes I eat cheeseAnd I see the trees.I look up at the skyAnd then I die.Kimberly SteeleThe PumpkinI am a pumpkin.I feel people cutting me.I smell them bake meto make a pie.I hear them laugh--I taste some of the waxfrom a candle.I see them put me outside.Mike Kington

So Much DependsSo much depends uponA redCarRacing with the clearWindBeside a brickWall.Dawn BeasleyLoveLove smells like a flowerAnd tastes like a warm

summer's shower.Love looks like a person smilingAnd sounds like a dog barking.It feels so warm that every timeYou touch it you would probablySquirm about.Karina GurnseyI Am a DictionaryI smell paperI taste chocolatey fingersroaming through my pages.I see words.I hear people reading my words.I feel thick.Wendy Jones

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Babies,Babies, send them to the Navies.I can't take them anymore.I will kick them out the door.Daniel StaffordHow Will You Know?How will you knowI f the earthquake is coming?How will you know?The floor starts to move.The ceiling will fall.The bricks will fall.How will you know?Chris Jackson

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Boo for BoysBoys are disgusting.Girls are truly thoughtful.Boys will knock your booksdown when you're walking

in the hall.Girls will grow upAnd will not get married.Crystal GurnseyI Am a FlowerI hear bees buzzing all arounme.I taste sour pollen.I feel strong winds blowing.I see seeds flying in the windNikki Pillow

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BEEBE ELEMENTARYBEEBE, ARKANSASFaculty Contact: Jean Harvey

Visiting Writers: Charles Freeland and David WestThe Bass Fisherman Speaksof the Lake at DawnThe lake is so calm and foggy.There's nothing like catchinga big bassOn a quiet lake at dawn.You can smell fish as you glidethrough the lake.You can feel the cool waterAs you reach down to getthat big fish.Chris RoperThe Astronomer TalksAbout Being Alone with theTelescopeI would say that I love

to be with my telescopeAnd to look at my stars andplanets.I talk to my telescope just likea personAnd I tell it what I seeAnd sometimes my telescopeWill even answer me back.Tonya WoolseyI f Fingers were HeadlightsSeeing would be sliding yourhandOut the windowTo see who's there.Charlie Willard

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How to Know for SureYou're on the MoonFirst you would not seeanything.Then you couldn't stay on theground.You would just have to floataround.When you come back to the

spaceship,You would float there too.It's hard to stay in placeWhen you're in this place.Malinda HerringThe Aging AthleteRemembersHis Last VictoryI was in the ring,The smell of sweatAnd the flashing of lightsfrom cameras.The bell rang, the champswung,I ducked by reflex.I remembered the champhad a glass jaw.I swung with all my might.Boom, it hit. He fell to theground.As he staggered up, I swunga gam.That swing was the last.He was down for good.Josh Jeffery

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The Truck DriverWhen he speaks of the road,He thinks of miles of opencountry.When he's on the road talking

on the CB,"Come over,"He's listening to the radio.But the bad part is smellingthe pigs.Corey SimmonsScaredIt is in the middle of the nightAnd the cat jumps in front ofyou and says meow.You're asleep.You wake upAnd the dog is lying rightbeside youAnd you touch itAnd you don't know what it 1sAnd it scares you.Malina StovallThe Evening WeathermanComplains About GoodWeather"We haven't had rain allmonth,"Said the grouchy weatherman.He is losing his audience."When the sun shines,My tonsils hurt,"Said the grouchy weatherman.Greg Soell

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The 7-11 Manager TellsAbout 3 A.M.He said, 4 green thingswalk in and grab 4 bags ofchips,4 sodas, and 8 candy bars.And then three Goons come m.2 of them had gunsand 1 had a metal suit on-and War broke loose betweenthese 4 green thingsand those 3 Goons.Then a guy in a ski mask walkin with a hockey stickand starts swinging.It was just a mess.Nick HoweWaitress on Friday NightShiftThe Friday night shiftIs always a doosey.I always have to work lateWhen I should be out cruising.All the tables are taken,That's when I start shaking,Because everyone is hungry.Besides most of the guys areugly.Being a waitress isn't easy atall,Especially waiting on thosehuman hogs!Angie Armstrong

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BIGGERS-REYNO SCHOOLSBIGGERS AND REYNO, ARKANSASFaculty Contact: John Edington, IIIVisiting Writers : Richard Matthews and Jay Prefontaine

Autumn Pine ConesThe brightly colored leavesFall to the groundLike feathers,Floating softly all around.The frosty air bitesAt my noseLike a puppyNipping at my toes.Bridget RushCripple U.F.0 . Sends S.O.S.to EarthWhen the aliens from ZaraxWere cruisin' in space,The evil Lord GwarShot 'em outta their place.They called for helpBut to no avail;The S.O.S . to EarthEnded in fail.They hit the ground--Blood squirted like ketchup.And they screamed: I'VEFALLEN,AND I CAN'T GET UP!Steve GodwinSo Much DependsSo much depends uponA yellow dogRunning with Big BirdsBeside Pink ElephantsTeddy

Pine cones inThe trees-Green, brown,And black-Though youAre noUse toMe youLook likeA ChristmasTreeDaniel HurstThe TrainI live by the tracks.The train goes and comesBy my house day after day.It goes, "Toot, toot,"And then whips on by.When you are asleep again,It's like a great big brother.He goes by and heTells me it's timeTo go to school.But on SaturdayI stay in bed.D. Zachary Williams

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Granny Gets an EyefulIt was sweet, soft, nice, and hot.We were being very sneakyme and himDown in the basement atGranny's house.Everything was going smooth,We were almost done.The door opens.We stop and hide-Here comes grannyAnd catches me andMy brother eatingThe last of her chocolate p1e.Jennifer HagoodDog, Dog, DogI went home one night,And turned on the light.I went in the kitchen,And found my brothers itchin';They were scratching theirheads'Cause in the refrigeratorMy dog was dead.He was very niceAlthough he had lice;He stunk like burned spinach;It made me mad.I called my dad,And he was oh so sad,But the stink was just rightAnd brought my dog back tolife.I f you don't believe my storyJust ask my wife!Jay Malone

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BOONEVILLE HIGH SCHOOLBOONEVILLE, ARKANSASFaculty Contact: Lana HamptonVisiting Writers: Bob Zordani and David Pratt

Spokane, WashingtonLooking out of the house'swindows,I see electricity.Fluorescent pink and blueBlinking on and off.The sound of horns beepingAnd buzzing comes through theopen window.Each car making its own noise.Stepping outside, the smell of

exhaust overwhelms me,And yet it smells cleanFrom the day's rain.Letting out a sigh,I can almost taste foodFrom the fast food joints.As I reach over to pull up some

grassThe earth feels warm and softAnd yet rocky cold likeconcrete.Shelly MakusOld MexicoI f I could go, the things I'd see:Not the cities or the lights of

town,But the small places forgotten.Language the Mexican wouldRide off among mountainsAnd the setting sun.Denise McKinney

I f a Pom-Pom Were a Pieceof PaperYou would write on purple goldwhite plastic strips.You would carry them underyour arms or in a bagAnd the writing wouldprobably rub off.You would grab them in the

middle of a pep rallyAnd would be crumbling upAnd shaking your homeworkAnd yelling--Go Cats!You would lose your homeworkAmong all of themAnd then get a demerit.Rene Puls

MadAs a sixteen year old blondeCruised town in her red FerrariRuthless, frantic, pursued,Like a heroine in an EdgarAllen Poe story.Suddenly her car belched likeA bullfrog as she slammed on

her brakes. She hadflattened a cop.And her love for her car wilted

Like a rose at summer's end.Third Hour Group Poem

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The WindAs the day goes by and theearth grows older,This big gust of wind comesthroughAnd things grow colder.It comes by and gushesthrough trees;It quietly picks upAnd rustles the leaves.When you're standing around,It gently blows through yourhair.It flies around prettilyWith nothing to spare.It blows through the water,Calmly with no time to spend.As you listen closelyYou can hear it blow.It's always aroundEven during snow,When you walk outsideWithout a careAnd do not see itEven though it's there.Kelly WebbBooneville NightAfter the lights go downWe all drive throughThe single stop lightThat marks the center

of town.We weave memoriesTo bind us throughThe years.Anna Salzer

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Boonevil leWhen I look at you, I seeA compacted littleCompartment.It ' s like a suitcase withEverything in a perfect place.Your air is filled withThe aroma ofFreshly grilled hamburgers,Or french fries burntTo a crisp.I f I could reach out andTouch you, you would feelRough and worn downBecause of your old age.Your streets are filled withThe joyous sounds of studentLate on Friday night cruisingThrough town after anotherBearcat victory.These are the reasons whyI am fascinated byBooneville.Anony mous

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DUMAS HIGH SCHOOLDUMAS, ARKANSASFaculty Contact: Gloria LayVisiting Writers: Jhon Emery and Jay PrefontaineThe Retiring Teacher SaysGoodbyeLeaving the job that he loves,The retiring teacher walksaway slowly,Like an airplane that is leveling

off into the sky.He looks back as if he were arabbitBeing chased by a hunter; hisvoice shatteredLike a broken window when hespeaks.He drives off weaving like amadman at 2 mph.He waves one last goodbyeAs if trapped on an island,Flagging for help.Michael MeadowsThe Preacher's Wife Thinksto Herself on SundayMorningShe thinks to herself on SundaymorningWhile sitting in Sunday SchoolOn the hard wooden benchesWhat a relief it would be toStand up in her new blue dressThat was sticking to herLike paint to a house.Then the bell rang. She stoodUp and the blue dress began toPeel. The women lookedAshamed, the men amazed.Shantel Livingston

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Life Goes OnI sit here--thinking,About how funny life is.About boys and girlsAnd their very first kiss.How babies and infantsGrow up way too fast.Grow into toddlers,Whose friendships will last.I think of adolescents,Whom puberty will hi t soon,And turn into teenagers,Who demand their own room.And into adults these teenagersWill mature,Maturing by livingThrough heartaches with nocure.And these adults will marryAnd have them a kid,Then we 11 go through thisprocessAll over again.Karen CooperWoman's Breast ImplantsExplode at High AltitudeWhat atremendous

pnceJoy Bowles

better bustbigger,for ato pay

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Looking For Mr. Right-Woman Married 21 TimesMarried 21 times and I've stillnot found my sunset ormy deep blue ribbons.I'm the type of galwho doesn't get discouraged.I give all my moves like BoJacksonand I can't find that guy withthe serious action.I know I look goodand I think I'm fine,the way I'll get a guy to marrymejust one more time.As I've grown into adulthoodI've tried all these guyswho are certainly no good.They're like an earthquakeshakin' and sayin' "Mine, mine,mine." They'll take youfor your last nickle or dime.So if you're going to getmarrieddon't you dare do it twicebecause love is like your lastdollarwhen you're shooting some diceor a barefooted man standingon tee.Frankie RicksHigh School Student KillsTeacher Over a "B"Bang.Jason Bronson

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Twilight ZoneWelcome to the Twilight ZoneWhere all of your nightmarescome trueWhere the victims are regular

peopleBut the ones who come backsane are few.You never know quite what toexpectWhen this journey to hellbegins.It's all evil versus you.And you 11 never know who'll

wm.The planets all start rotatingaround,Gaining speed as they go.Rains pour down, lightningstrikes.Winds begin to howl.Your head starts spinning

soundAnd blackness slowly creeps mUntil suddenly you're joltedawakeTo face the worst kinds of sin.All the evil forcesJoin in the tortuous gamesLaughing and screeching whileDancing around the blue

flames.Karen Cooper and Julie Nichols

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FARMUNGTONELEMENTARYFARMINGTON, ARKANSAS

Faculty Contact: Margaret MillerVisiting Writers: Brad Barkley and Robert M. Wallace

HeavyHeavy sounds like ten p1anosFalling from the Sears Tower.Jason MorganLazyLazy looks like a personSleeping on a couch.Lazy sounds like a dogHowling in the day wind.Lazy tastes like an appleRotting on a tree.Lazy smells like womenSmoking in the street,Into the breeze.Beth LewisJanuaryJanuary looks like iciclesForming on your nose.January sounds like someoneYelling GOT YOU!After hitting you smackIn the face with a snowball.January tasts like hotchocolateRight from the microwave.Tilly Louise Brinacombe

MeadowA meadow at night wouldsoundLike millions of whispers.Or like a babbling brook,Or a fan on low speed.Maybe it would sound likeLow, rumbling thunder.Or a fire crackling in thehearth.Or something like a windRustling in the trees.Melissa SwiftSunThe sun might sound likeThe whistling of the wind,Like rushing water,Like lots of people screaming.Mia BarkerIf Planets Were TelevisionsI f planets were televisions,We would watch the

darkness of spaceAs Martians fly by.I f planets were televisions,The screen would be dust,It would sound dusty and dry.I f planets were televisions,We would watch our favoriteshowWith a telescope.Laura Hampton

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CloudsClouds might sound like anorchestraPlaying through the spring air,Like a crisp breeze in themiddle of winter,Like a rumbling train.Cathy RunklesCloudA cloud sounds likea slow breezeblowing the clotheson the clothes line.Or soft velvetrubbing together.It might sound like a birdfluffing its feathers,or somebody softlybrushing her hair.Rebecca CapperHow to Know For Sure ThatYou Are in My BedroomMy bedroom is whiteAs snow.My bedroom smellsLike sweet cookies beingbaked.My bedroom sounds likeDeer in the meadow.Casey Dawn Fail

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What Would Happen ifCarrots Were RockingChairsYou would have to eatCarrots that rock.I f rocking chairs were carrots,Rabbits would always beAt your house.Melody WagnerFastFast looks likea racecar zoomingdown a track.Fast sounds likea jet plane whenit's firing to take off.Fast tastes dryand dustylike dirt or rocks.Fast smells likedust or dirton a windy day.Fast feels likea breezeon a nice, cool day.Benjamin Glenn

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FORDYCENODDLE SCHOOLFORDYCE, ARKANSASFaculty Contact: Pat WoodsonVisiting Writers: Dan Smolla and Randolph ThomasThe Flying SquirrelA flying squirrelIs the strangest thing!He hasn ' t a feather.He hasn't a wing.Yet through the airHe skims and scoots.He doesn' t fly.He parachutes .Steven McDanielThis Is Just To SayThis is just to sayI drove the truck around theblock. You were probablywanting to use it. So forgiveme, I had fun driving.I was going to come home,but I figured I was going to geta whipping,so I might as well go onand have fun .So I went down another blockdoing 50 mph.I had ten dollars with me,so I went to the gas stationand filled her up.Then, I went home to get itover with--my rna met meon the porch with my brother.My grandma looked worried,but my rna, you couldn't seethe whites of her eyesuntil I told herI had filled it up.Brian Bouman

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Menu for an EnemyPoisoned potatoesDiced liversFried heartsBaked chicken eyesIntestines with bloodCold sewageTerry Z.The Bleached ShirtThis is just to sayI bleached your shirt.I t was a mistakeThe bleach lasted on there.I didn't know.Forgive me.It's a rainbow now.Takishia EdwardsHearing FordyceTo me Fordyce is likeHearing a pin drop from thesky.I f you were on a huge towerYou could see half of it.It's so quiet it soundsLike eating a piece of bread,And it's so smallI t feels like touchingLeaves of a tree.Rondell Peevey

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FordyceFordyce is small like an acorn.Little yet very young.It sounds like the quietGrowth of a tree.Fordyce smells like coffee.Bitter and bleak.I see Fordyce asA hummingbirdWithout a beak.I f I could touch FordyceIt would feel like a grindstone.Rough and gray.I f I could taste FordyceIt would taste like medicine.Bitter and nasty.I believe Fordyce will sproutUp from an acorn to a tree.It can be done as you will see.It will be done by me.Renee ThompsonPassing By the JunkyardHeaps of headlightsStare at me.Radiators. wheels.And fan-belts smile.And a thousandMore parts rusty and newSeem to sayTheyd all like to goOn a car ride again.Steven McDaniel

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Money TownThis is the placepeople pay their debts-in the placemoney grows on trees.No one here is poor;everyone has at leastthree trees.These trees are reallyevergreen.so they grow all year.The way you get thereis through your dreams.But you have to buy a ticketor never make it.So if you want a ticketsend $5.00to the address below.Tyson ParhamFordyceYou can hear the train leavetownAnd come right on time.You can see the kidsPlaying in the park.You can smell Georgia PacificAll times of the day.You can taste the foodUptown in the stores.Wesley Larnus

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FOUNTAIN LAKE ELEMENTARYHOT SPRINGS, ARKANSASFaculty Contact: Donnice CowartVisiting Writers : Patricia A. Commerford and Sonya Reeves

The GardenMy Grandpa is plowing thegarden.He feels the vibration of thetractor, and smells fresh dirtgetting plowed.He hears the motor of thetractor.He sees the dirt getting plowed

up.He works like a beaver buildinga dam.He is thinking of the fruit hecan grow in the garden.Brian GibsonAnxietyPatty is chewing her fingers.She's shaking like a drier,Shaking and screeching like a

carThat wants to stop but can't.Her mouth is full of lemon pits(And passes through the X-raymachine of her mind).She smells smoke in the darkSnaking under the door.Mrs . Killingworth' s Class Poem

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Field DayBlotches of children jumping in

Grandpa's field, riding horses,"Ice, Ice Baby," pounding on myboom box, I rip open a frozenSnickers. The wrappercrinkling entices me.I ravish it,Tranquilized by an AppaloosaFoal in the distance.Mrs. Luman's Class PoemMomMy mom, driving the bus,Feels spit wads hitting herin the back of her head.She smells sweatAnd hears with her earsAnd sees ugly kids.She feels like going home.She is thinking about lyingdown.Josh Hendrix

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Loving DayI stare intently at the blotches

of people talking andLaughing on Grandpa's freshlycut grass;While in Grandma's kitchen,My aunt bakesHer special cookiesAnd puts them in the basketLined with soft red silk.Christine BaileyRight Before the Play

your hands are sweatyAnd your throat is dryyou also feel butterfliesIn your stomachyou forget all your linesBut as soon as your part comesyou know every wordAnd butterflies leave yourstomachMike Marshall

ShellyMy cousin is primping-She feels friendlyShe smells like perfumeShe hears her brotherscreamingShe tastes the hairspray fallingfrom the airShe sees herself in the mirrorShe looks like a clown puttingon make-upShe's thinking about how she'sgoing to look.Jennifer Vaughn

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Fear of PaddlingI've signed the boxfor the fourth time.I'll choose a paddling.It will sound like a screen-

door slamming.It will feel like havingyour hand slammed in a door.It would taste like rusty metal.It would smell like burningbooks.But I do not know what itwould look like becauseI would be bent over.All of this crossed my mindas I go to put my card mthe box.Jessie MaloneFishingMy brother IS entering a fishingcontest.He sees a 30 lb. catfish.He feels excited about the fish.He smells some rotten shrimp.He hears the sound to start.He's paddling as fast as adolphin.He is thinking of winningthe $3000.Jarrod Breshears

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GREENBRIAR ELEMENTARY AND MIDDLE SCHOOLGREENBRIAR, ARKANSASFaculty Contact: Janice JonesVisiting Writers: Patricia A. Commerford and Kris Kirk

Life of a PencilBeing born in a branch of atree, then being chopped offand shapedinto a round hollow tube,a thin black rod shovedthrough my middle,a silver hat placed on my head,words and numbers printedon my side, and shipped offwith my brothers and sisters toa faraway shore,placed on a shelf waiting to bebought by a kid for school.I am sharpened to a fine tipand used to mark words onpaper till I am dull and need tobe sharpened again .Finally I am too small tosharpen; then am tossed into aplastic container--never to be used again.Josh OdomThe Experiences of a ForkI am a rusty, flakey fork,I get pushed into a pile ofmuddy dirt.I'm poked into a dark, endlesstunnel.Then I get dunked in a soapy,wet sea.I then get put on a pile of coldsteelAnd wish for mornmg.Leah Turney

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That's What T.J. Is LikeHe has big brown eyesand short brown hairThat's what T.J. is likeHe has short fingernailsand white skinThat's what T.J. is likeI like T.J. and T.J. likes meThat's what T.J. is likeHe likes to play soccer andbaseball too, sometimes turtlesThat's what T.J. is likeHe don ' t play football orcheckersThat's what T.J. is likeJered FarrarSoft SkyShy Cheyenne lived inItaly with her sis. Every noonShe would look at the soft sky.Cheyenne Graddy HartwickA Boy Named JaperJaperAlwaysSangOutside atNoonJason Johnson

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Noisey J BirdsJ Birds untateEverybody, evenRats,Even ourMomYou are mean, J BirdsJeremy BirdSandy SamSandy SamAte aMap ofARKANSAS everyNight.ThenHe hadA tummy ache.Samantha FloroMichaelMichael Scott is my nameI 'm in the hall of fameCatchers are scared of mebecause I'll break their glovesHitting the ball so far above theAtlantic Ocean, here it comesEnding a little far awayLanding in Africa on hay.Scott JohnsonJessica DillardJust bewareEverybody becauseSomeoneSpecialIsComingAgain

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Death of a PenI hate being a pen--Teachers rub me over paperAnd make my blood pour out.When I'm outta bloodThey throw me awayInto a cold metal coffinWith a mask that covers myfaceNever to see daylight again.Chad MartinLife of a WatchI stretch out on the counter

and wait,Oh what a boring job.I'm always really gladWhen he wraps me around hisarm.Like pictures in a viewmaster,Marching in a row,The faces stare at me intently,But always look away.I wish they would speak to meBut no one ever does.The rain is my only friend,Stroking my lonely face.Ooh!! That hurts, please, pleasestop.He's twisting my arms again,Turning them around.He does this every day.Amy Sims

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HORATIO HIGH SCHOOLHORATIO, ARKANSASFaculty Contact: Sherry HodgesVisiting Writers: Andy Fox and David West

A Hardware StoreThe hammers hung on theircoils like steel eyes looking onwhile the old man in the backpoured nails into their bin.It was a musty and stale smelllike the whole placewas in a cardboard box.The electric drills lookeddignified, like army colonels.The whole place frighteninglydark.Laramie FantThe Retiring Teacher SaysGood-byeI was used to going toAssembly, but not my own.I would be hearing speechesAnd all that stuff.But it would be for my rettnng,After 21 years of teaching,I had to retire to be with JSL's,For I was an important person.I was the Starman.I was a hero to all children.Anthony MurchisonA View of a JunkyardI imagine old cars and beat uptrucks and an old shack and asalesman in an old suit and aparking lot, dirty and beat upwith holes in it.Scott Higgins

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The Waitress Speaks of theFriday ShiftI come in every day,The same time, the same dress.The dress is quite short, andDraws whistles from the guys.I don't like it, but it's part ofmy job.Each night is the same routine.I wait the tables andGet the tips. Most of the time,It's the same old people.People coming to drown outTheir problems with wine.Nothing ever happens.But it's all I got to keep meAlive.Tonya LindseyKorean RestaurantLanguage and laughter fill theroomAs the men drink from theircups.Their eyes squint closed atevery tiny grin.How I wish I knew what theywere saymg,For they all stareWhen I enterTheir laughter hushes,And their grinsTurn to critical frowns.Rachelle Jones

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A Police StationBare yellow bulbsCast a sallow underglowOn all the surroundingsDough-faced men in crisp blueQuestion long-legged girlsIn garish war paint.Scents of old coffeeAnd something darkerPrevail here.It is a place for the peopleOf twilight.lana LovellThe 7-11 Manager Speaksof 3 A.M.3 a.m. is the craziest hour.This is the time of the nightWhen people come in withcurlers,Barefoot and unashamed.Or when the hip-hop homiesFrom Broad StreetCome in with their wacked-outhairdosTo buy light beer andBubble gum.lana Lovell

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Thethe

AstronomerTelescope Discusses

The telescope could be a scarything.I looked through the tiny,narrow passageThrough which you can see allthe heavens.You can see many stars, brightStars, peering at you wickedly,Daring you to peek at them.Margueritte GideanAn Empty PlaygroundI saw the monkey-bars,The swings, the slides,The seesaws, and the sand box.I was just standing thereStaring at the play things,Wishing I were young again.A bird flew overhead,I looked up, and it remindedMe of when I was little.I saw my friends fallingOff the seesaws,Trying to balance themselves,Trying to see whoCould go highest on the swings.I was playing in the sandbox,Slinging dirt everywhere.I heard a bird, looked up,And something was coming atme.Then I realized, I was all aloneCarmita Kelly

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HOT SPRINGS MIDDLE SCHOOLHOT SPRINGS, ARKANSASFaculty Contact: Julie GrantVisiting Writers: Ian Morris and Robert M. Wallace

You Know You're in MyHouse When ..You walk in the doorAnd see a Shar-peiThat is jumping up and downTrying to get you to play.You look down and seeA carpet of shag;It looks like a piece of clothCut off from a rag.I f you come in,You won' t see us grooving,But you might see a lot of boxesBecause we're moving!Staci M. WilsonSnowflake AcrosticSnowflake, snowflake-NoOne knowsW here you willFloat to next. You areLikeAKite drifting in the air;then when you come, it's likeEntering a world of white.Katrina Beaty

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The Life of a SkierRiding the waves,Feeling the breeze.Electrical machinesPulling you down.Flipping in the air.Tumbling overEach little drop.Feeling excitement!Never, ever stop.Ashlye KeatonColorsColors are how you feel.Red is when your feelings areHotOrange is when you just feel?????

Yellow is when you're justHappy, delighted, joyful.Green is also whenYou're ?????Blue is when you'reJust d

0w

nViolet just Mixed upColors ..Tomeka Witherspoon

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Night Sounds at My HouseAt night I hear many differentsounds.My hamster is running on itswheel,And it sounds like someone isscratching on the wall.I hear my little brother startcrying for my mom.Then slowly it starts gettingquieterUntil all I hear is the bubblingOf the fish tank and the windOutside my open window.Katrina BeatyDanceSoaring through the airlike a swan,Whispering to my feet,I accomplished a grande jette.I leaped into my partner's armsAnd circled in the biosphere.Landing on my toes,I pirouetted acrossThe barren wooden surfaceAs I finished the piece,I took a bow and silentlyBreathed heavily.Ashlye KeatonMy Hip Hop DayRolling down the strip m myhooptyGirls all around--can't you see?Patrick Trice

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How to Know for SureYou'rein Hot SpringsThere's a lot of sights in HotSprings.You really ought to see 'em.Go down and see what'sAt Mid-American Museum.It's really cool in Hot Springs.You should really come andvisit.Come and stay at the ParkHilton.Please, you really shouldn'tmiss it.Ed HowardMy RoomYou know you ' re in my roomWhen you trip over clothes atmy door,Which I wore two weeks ago.When you find candy wrapperstuffed in my drawer andOthers that landed on the floor.Then you hear my mothersaying,

"Clean your room. Get thevacuum and throw that junkaway." I say, "Okay,"But I don't do it anyway.I like my room that way.Sonya Blackmon

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JOHN TYSON ELEMENTARYSPRINGDALE, ARKANSASFaculty Contact: Carolyn J. BrooksVisiting Writers: Brad Barkley and Robert M. WallaceCloudsClouds sound like cottonrattling in a bag,Or a huge white snowballrolling down a hill.Carie AdkinsRage

Rage looks like my big brotherWhen he doesn't get his way.Rage smells like a hot sidewalkOn a summer day.Rage tastes like rotten milk.Rage feels like torn silk .Rage sounds like a broken tapeOr a teacher screaming because

you're late.Charles AppleI f Pumpkins Were WheelsI f pumpkins were wheelsAnd wheels were pumpkins,We would grow wheels in thegarden.At Thanksgiving, we would eatwheel pie.When we got older, we wouldwant a set of pumpkins.When it came time forHalloween,We would carve our wheels.Dana Adams

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I f Planets Were Old SocksI f planets were old socks,We'd have laundromatsAs big as the sun.I f planets were old socks,Everyone would have to wearshoesThe size of the earth.Andrew LankfordI f Volcanoes Were DesksI f volcanoes were desks,You would be writingOn a piece of lava rock,And desks would eruptScissors, crayons, paper, andbooks.Chris HendrixJupiterJupiter would soundLike my sister cryingIn the middle of the night,Or like someone breathing.RandyWhat an Island WouldSound LikeAn island would soundLike a houseFull of the deep blue sea.Brandy

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LonelinessLoneliness looks like an emptygraveyard.Loneliness feels like cold aircoming at your face.Loneliness smells likesauerkrautand steak in the pan.Loneliness tastes like bloodafter a tooth is pulled.Loneliness sounds like a piece

of dust landing on a desk.Lindy BryantMy Grandmother's KitchenI f you were in mygrandmother's kitchen,You would see an old mangriping.You would smell all kinds offruit.You would taste instant mashedpotatoes.Michelle KilpatrickWhere I LiveWhere I liveThe grass is as greenAs a lima bean.The water is as clearAs a crystal ballRolling downA limestone stream.The clouds blow gentlyAcross the sky,And the birds singUp in the sky.Jared Hallam

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The Moon Would Feel. .RoughLike an armadillo's shell.Layne Skelton

JoyJoy looks like children rippingopen presentsAt Christmas.Joy feels like a soft kittenOn a cold winter day.Joy tastes like mygrandmother's carrot cake.Joy sounds like church bells

nngmgOn Easter Sunday.Sarahbeth Lehman

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LOCKESBURG ELEMENTARY AND JUNIOR HIGHLOCKESBURG, ARKANSASFaculty Contact: Dewanna AdcockVisiting Writers : Andy Fox and David WestMusic Poem: "Little BeggarMan"Two old men sitting on a porchin rocking chairsPlayed a banjo and violinWhile the wind was blowing,Leaves rustling and stormComing in from the north.Talking about the funThey had in the old days,Wishing it was still that way.John HubbardHomeless PeopleHomeless people are not allbad,But sad of what happenedin their lives.As children they wantedTo become a doctor or a lawyer,But only became bumsLike some people call them.They sit in alleys, beg for foodAnd look through trash.Worrying of what mighthappen to them,Saying what might happenI f they die in those cold wetalleys.Abbie Hall

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The Bass Fisherman Speaksof the Lake at DawnJust another peaceful perfectday to fish.It's always quiet, calm--justperfect.I'm ready for a change,A mistake maybe.It seems to me it's not fair to

the fish,A little wind, maybe some rain .Just something to even theodds.Chris SandersWorkWork feels like tendonitis.It smells like hot metal

in a blacksmith's shop.Work looks like diggingpostholesfor a fence.Chris TurnerWhat Would a Gas StationTaste Like?Diesel coming out of a big truckGoing fifty miles an hour,Burning rubber on Interstate20.Chayne Wilson

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An Old AtticImagine the smells of old,musty boots that should bethrown out,but the people didn't want to

fool with it.Seeing all the dust, almostsneezing--but holding it back.The old trunks that Daddy hastold so many boring warstories about.Trying to see yourself in areflection of a dusty mirror.The cobwebs surrounding anordinary rocking chair

that used to be Grandma's.The sticky feeling when youdust them away.Stacy GibsonShadowA shadow would feel like amarble,Brand new, just out of the bagA shadow would feel like wetglass.Anthony Green

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How to Know For SureYou're Meeting My FatherFirst, you look for a big manWith a bald head.He will invite you inAnd talk to youAbout painting carsAnd his shop.Anthony Green

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LONOKE ELEMENTARYLONOKE, ARKANSASFaculty Contact: Liz SmithVisiting Writers: Richard Matthews and David Pratt

My RoomYou know you are in my roomwhen you see 52 posters.You know you are in my roomwhen you see a Utah Jazz trashcan. When you see a desk, onewindow, a bed, and a peacesign painted on the wall--that'swhen you know you re in myroom. You see something whitelike whipped cream andsomething black like chocolatesyrup on my bed--that's my catand my dog. When you seeclothes overflowing from thedresser--that's my room.Joe SchaferThe CoatI am a coat hanging on a rack.I can feel people slipping theircold arms into mine.I see people slipping moneyinto my pockets.I smell candy bars that peopleput in my pockets.I taste sweat on peoples hands.AnonymousRain AcrosticRain is falling,And it is notIn the South. It is m theNorth.Richard Kethley

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CoolCool smells like a leather jacket,Aquavelva, and Crest.It sounds like a revvingmotorcycle, and feels like awarm engine and leatherseat.It looks like a passing Corvette.It tastes like the wind.Mrs. Elam' s 4th Grade ClassPoemI Am a ClownI hear the children fightingover me.I see myself holding balloons.I feel the cold ice when I skate.I smell the womens cologne.I taste the paint on my facewhen I lick my lips.Kristen WilsonThe Race CarI can feel myself overheatAnd I can hear the screamsOf people cheering the cars on.I can see the finish line as I getcloser and closer.It smells like popcorn andpickles.I can taste the airThat is fighting me.Josh Aukes

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The Ugly Monster in MyClosetThere was a monster in mycloset long, long ago.I used to be afraid,But one night I fought thatmonster.His breath smelled like throw-up;I felt like I was going to die.My mom tells me his name isMr. Boogey Man;He makes a big sound:Err, Carr, Sarr .. Boy, it is awful.I don't know what he tasteslike, but I don't want toknow.He feels like slime gushingbetween your fingers.Worst of all, he looks likethe ugliest, stupidest, grossestThing in the whole world.Crystal Anditon

Plane to Distant PlacesI feel the passengers get

aboard me.I hear the stewardess saying,"Buckle your seatbelts, please."And when my jets take offI smell the peanuts people eat.I will taste the mud on people's

shoes,See the stewardess serving thepassengersWhile they put their luggage mthe cabinet above thewindow.Shane Matthews

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My ClosetWhen I see youIn my closetWith my maskOn, I screamBut knowYou can'tScare me andYou knowYou are inMy closet.Amanda Marquita Walker BamBamI AmCan You Guess?A PuppetI hearThe children laughing at me,Saying I am a dummy.It doesn't really bother meBut I do feelKind of hurtBeing switched toAnother hand.Lindsie B. TempleMichaelManyIntelligent thingsCan have gone in hisHeadAnd sometimes his mom saysEat your egg, and he says I

don'tLike them.Michael Bridges

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I Am a Poetry BookI am a bookThat is filled with feeling.People tell meThe things they like.I like to reread the poemsThat they type in me.There are thingsThat I don't like.I don't like i t when peopleThrow me downOn the desk topsAnd I don't like i t whenMy pages are torn out.Crystal AnditonMy NickelsI can see my nicklesSitting on the tableWaiting to be spent.I can feel themWhile picking them up.And I can hear themJingling in my pocketWhile runnmg throughFields of grass.Sonya Brown

3 1

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MARVELL PRIMARYMARVELL, ARKANSASFaculty Contact: Dr. Susan ClarkVisiting Writers: Andy Fox and Kenneth SmedleyIf Fingers Were Baby DollsI f fingers were baby dollsHow could you touch?Your blood couldn't runThrough a baby doll clutch.I f fingers were baby dollsHow could you eat?Your fingers couldn't moveWith baby doll feet.Marcus RobinsonHow to Know for Sure ThatYou're Meeting MyGrandfatherHe sounds like a dogWhen he's asleepAnd he talks like a girlAnd when you see himHe will say hey babyWhat are you doing todayBabyJoy DensmoreLazyLazy is when youAre very stillAnd someone tells youTo do somethingAnd you do what you feel.John Carruth

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SummerBeautiful sun that on theHorizon shines so brightSweet smell of dewy grass mThe morning and nightSweet juicy watermelons that

just ripedHot as a stove in a desert houseHear water rustling in the hillsso light.Nathan Lang GrayHelplessA boy who can't walk withoutfalling downA doctor's office that smellsLike medicine in townIt tastes like lime jello whenyou're sickIt feels like a big pond ofquicksandThe sound of an ambulanceracing down the roadReal quick.Nathan GrayThe StrangerI will be outside in the yard.And he will come by.But I do not know him.Dale Brewster

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The PoemI love my mommyAnd my mommy loves me.My mommy cooks me rice.My mommy cooks me fish.I love my mommyAnd my mommy loves me.Johnette ProwellHow to Know For Sure ThatYou're Meeting a GhostHe will say whooAll down your house.You will be frightenedAs a little mouse.You will see himUp on a chair.Combing his long,Black, ugly hair.He smells likeToothpasteCrawling on his face .But he's cookingA little black fish on aBoxing ring.Pamlir IvyHow to Know For SureYou'rein My Front YardYou will see a basketball goal,Large, smelly chickens,Baked beans and pork chops,And my sister in her swimmingpoolHaving a bowl of peas.Twain Owens

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My WomanI knew this woman, she's allmine.I say she's beautiful, she say

I'm fine.I love her so much, no matterwhat she do,I have a woman, how aboutyou.I gave her twenty-one children,almost twenty-two,She have so many, she don'tknow what to do,I'm beginning to sound like the

old woman in the shoe.Tynisha DavenportHow to Know for Sure ThatYou're in My ClosetMy closet is like a shoe store,But one shoe is the left wayAnd the other is the right way.My clothes are on the rack all

wrong.And I have a long rope in mycloset,So don't try any tricksBecause I know Kung FuJust for you.Tashanderlyn Nekor

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OURLADYOFTHEHOLYSOULSLITTLE ROCK, ARKANSASFaculty Contact: Gretchen GowanVisiting Writers: Andy Fox, Kathryn Gessner,James Lovel, Ian Morris,Susan Perabo, and J'laine Robnolt

I f Pianos Were ChewingGum(Spelling left intact)I f penos were chewn gumI wud say, "Wowi,this is totoley osmm,this is rad kol--totoley ."Matthew, 1st GradeMy Monster(Spelling left intact)A scelikin is hiz hedand a kaktis is hiz telhe has a gieit pizza for hiz bote,tree iebols, and six feet batwengs.He has a sabrtoh (sabertooth)and likes spinning.Josh, 1st GradeMy Monster(Spelling left intact)He has ers lik a coke botlhe has a tal lik a snakand fangs lik a tigrand fet lik a allagatrand a nek lik a tufpikand a nos lik a berand he is as tol asthe mpirstatbidn (Empire StateBuilding).Andrew Garrison, 1st Grade

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My Monster(Spelling left intact)My momster ' s name ISSo and So.It is a half girl and half boy-she and he.She is green, yellow, purple;he is pink, red, blue.It is all difrit colors.Rachel, 1st GradeMy Monster(Spelling left intact)My mostr is a dragn.It flys like a bird andcilits (collects) coke cans andstringand bodls of fizz and socks withhols, and my mostr is coolbecose he sktebords andlikes pizza.Steve Aday , 1st GradeMy Monster(Spelling left intact)She is skinyShe is witeShe has a chriangl noseHir name is AllisinShe has a red swetchrt onShe eats candyCrystal , 1st Grade

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I f Alligators Were RaceCarsI f alligators were race cars,We wouldn't ride long.The Indy 500 would be theGator 500 and not many peoplecould come along.We would ride amphibiousvehicles that would needrefueling every ten minutes.The refueling is...YOU!GULP ..Ben JansenI f Planets Were TeddyBearsYou could take a nap on thegroundWith your favorite slumber pal,And President Roosevelt wouldrule the land.Dragons would be puffingOn top of animal stuffing,And jumping to the groundFrom the Empire State BuildingWould be like jumping onto acushion of air.In school, "B"'s would be theGrade standing for Bears.Christine CashI f Chickens Were Race CarsWe would get eggs from racecars. They would have to refuelat Roadrunner. You would havechicken feed for the prize; andyou would race aroundKentucky Fried Chicken parkinglots.Jonathan Kelley

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Aunt EaterToday I bought an Aunt Eater,But my uncles are mad becauseAll they can see of their wivesAre hats and shoes.Laura SchulteValentine's Day Recipe2 tablespoons of hearts1 1/2 cups of love3 cups of happiness1 tablespoon of Valentine cards2 cups of I Love You's4 cups Be My Valentine'sKerri ProctorIf Alligators Were TV'sI f alligators were televisions,you wouldn't get too close.You would have to punch itseye to turn it on.You would punch its teeth to go

to a different channel.David AdayThe Mechanic SpeaksThe engine is a wondrous thingThat's filled with oil, pipes,And all sorts of gearsThat dumb people breakAnd come crying to me saying,"Fix my engine (sob, sob)."So I fix the thing and thePerson comes back and says,"Oh, thank you, MisterMechanic." So that's most ofMy life and all I have to showIs greasy hands.Christian Cash

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A ShadowA shadow would sound likeA soft wind going across ameadow.A shadow would smell like a

cold day.A shadow would taste likeA raw carrot three years old.A shadow would feel like asmooth rock.Laura SchulteThe CountryCruising down the dirt road

in a small car.Listening to the musicand looking out the tinywindowInto the tall fields of corn andwheat, smelling the fresh air.It seems like they're slowlydancing in the light, quietwind.Melanie ManzoMonthsThe months of the yearAre wonderful to hearLike in June the birds singingIn August the childrenswingingAnd in July fireworks in theskyLike bombing lights all over.Megan Southern

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If Sisters Were PencilsI f sisters were pencils, I couldSharpen my sister's head.I could also break it off.Lian NguyenDecemberDecember feels like freezingsnow, crawling in your boots.It looks white as a sheep's wobleached a zillion times.It would taste like an ice cubethat's been in Antarctica,it smells like water,and sounds like feathersfalling on a bed.But even with all of thisI play hide and seekwith my rabbit,and I'm outside all day.Charles EnderlinA Golf Ball"Fore." Off went a golf ballToward a chicken soup factoryThe ball went through thewindow,And sounded like a shatteringvase.The ball bounced the wallAnd hit a worker in the back

of the neck.At that instantHe spit out his cherrybubblegum.What a sight, I say.Just a wonderful sight.Elizabeth Westerman

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The Story PoemI was making some dinnerfor my mom,She was nervous about it,

but I was calm,I went outsideto get a leaf--It started to flyto my disbelief.I gathered some peat mossto put in my stew,And to my surprisethe peat moss flew too!When my dinner was ready,

my mom ate a lot--She flew out of the housejust like a shot.Evie O'Brien

My RoomIn my room at nightI hear rain on my roofAnd the smell of peat moss fillsThe air outside my window.The taste of chili peppersStill taunts my mouthAnd my hand still graspsThe leaf that my grandfatherHad given meIn my room.Patrick LaughlinThe FlagThe flag is freedom.The flag is pride.Martin Luther King, Jr.Had a dream aboutBlack freedom.Beau Bradburn

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On a FarmLeaves flyingand rain on the tin roof.On a farm,

On a farm.In the field,the corn in peat mossand hot chili peppersOn a farm,On a farm.Joey A. CantisBefore Me (A Music Poem)Down in Oklahoma, in 1848,people came from all over tosettle the Great Plains.Three men sat by the blazingfire, slowly eating the littleracoon meat they had.The men sang a sad song.In the break of morning themen quickly leaped on theirhorses to set out for anotherhard, rough day,as they ventured farther thanever before.Jenny HoltOld Hicks (A Music Poem)It reminds meof old hicks,when people wouldsit on a porchand say,"Why in tarnationdid youburn dinner?"Sarah Graham

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Can You Imagine BlueCan you imagine a blueand purple-striped tree withan orange and green bumble

bee?How about an upside-downrainbowwith coin pots hanging low?Or even clouds that talkWith eyes that can stalk?Can you imagine?Sarah Broderick

Growing UpWhen you are nineand playing ballwith the neighborhood kidsand you fallthe humiliation rushes overyou in wavesand you begin to feelthe hurt knee and they laugh.The tears are there,and proudly you bite your lipand blink them backvictoriousfor big girls don't cry.Then, years later,an angry look from someoneor a song that touches yourheartcan make you break downin tearsand they call itgrowmg up.Erica Troppoli

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Wishing WellWishing WellWishing Well, oh, Wishing WelGrant a wishI wish you could.A penny I'll dropI f you'll stopAnd grant me what you shouldJason WestermanW arWar looks like a time bombready to explode.It sounds like a whistle blowinm your ear.It smells like sulfurjust taken out of the ground.It tastes like spoiledmayonnaiseon your salami sandwich.It feels like oilthat won't get off your finger.Mike Santamaria

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The GiftI got a gift the other day,From my mom,Who's miles away.It wasn't shoesIt wasn't socksIt wasn't candyIt wasn't a boxIt was just a note from myMomTo meA note that was specialJust because it wasA noteA note just for me.Robyn Cord

Things My Mother NeverToldMe Not To DoTo suck on the part of a penthat you write withTo walk across a pool coverTo go down a slide with a dressonTo cut my brother's hairTo throw grapes off a balconyTo dress my brother up as agirlthen show him to my dad.Anonymous

Losing a Basketball GameLosing a basketball gameIs like falling out of a tree.I t is like having to get upIn the morning and go toschool.It is like when your footGets stuck in very thick mudAnd when you fall in themiddleOf a race you were winning.It is like when a balloonBlows up in your face.Mike Santamaria

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PARKIN ELEMENTARYPARKIN, ARKANSASFaculty Contact: Louise WebbVisiting Writers: Graham Lewis and Jay PrefontaineI f Candles Were OrangesI f candles were orangeswhen the lights went outyou would have to lightoranges with a banana and theorange and the banana wouldmelt and then you would haveto try apple. Probably peoplemight get sick of this and tellthe light man to put real lightsand candles and the light manwould change the oranges backto candles and all people wouldbe happy.Dermecial M eachell PoundsWho Am I?I have the colors of black andwhite and I wiggle when Iwalk. I am a funny little birdin a tuxedo.I lost my ability to flyBut I am really cute.You can find meAlong the coast of AlaskaOr maybe at the North Pole.Feguna Fenay HarmonWho Am I?I am green all overAnd I live in the sewerWith my masterWho is a rat.(Ninja Turtle)Scotty Hodger

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I f Ants Were Peanut ButteI f we tried to eat a peanutbutter sandwichAnts would crawl on ourtongues.And if we spilled peanut butteon the groundWe would be setting the antsfree.You would get your feet all

messyI f you tried to step on the antsThen if you still wanted to eatthe peanut butterYou would have to go to thedoctor.Paige WestI f Rabbits Were Scissors

We would have 219 screamingRabbits in our scissor box.We would use the rabbits ' feetfor handlesSo his ears could cut paper.The scissors would live in afieldAnd eat all the onion, cotton,carrot, and tomato crops.And the fields would be a mesMs . Webb' s 3rd Grade ClassPoem

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The Bad Easter BunnyShe tastes like spinach andvinegar juice and growls likea combine.She has scissor ears and lookslike Godzilla. The Bad EasterBunny smells like a pig pencovered with rotten eggs anddiesel fuel. She feels like theyellow brick wallin the classroom.Don't Follow Her!Ms . Webb's 3rd Grade ClassPoem

What Am I?I am wide not thinAnd a combine helps me begin.What is in me tastesGood on a cob.You can eat it if you cook it.When it is dry it can rustleThrough your fingers.I f you look closelyYou can see my ears.What am I?(A corn field)Kendrice Davis

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Our KitchenOur kitchen feels like a hard,rough bump.It is quiet like a mouse.I t tastes like a chickensandwich,And looks like a big field offlowers . Outside,It smells like a strawberrybush.Then I hear a bird in the wind.It smells the fresh air.Then I touch the bird and IknowI am in our kitchen.Elliot DavisThe WolfI t has many sharp teethThat could poke through yourJeans.The wolf smells like garlic.He tastes like a piece ofKentucky Fried Chicken.He is noisy when he growlsBut he feels soft.Joseph Janes

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PEA RIDGE ELEMENTARY AND IDGH SCHOOLPEA RIDGE, ARKANSASFaculty Contacts: Bobbi Branham and Gail JohnsonVisiting Writers: Andy Fox and David West

The SunThe sun would sound like ajackhammerTrying to break a diamond.I f you could hear the sun,It would sound like a garbagetruck in the morning.Tommy D. MillerBoredomBoredom is like down indumps.Boredom looks like watchingmy brother swat flies.Boredom sounds like the NewKids. Boredom smells likegoing into a fish market.(P.S. Don't go there.)Boredom feels like you haveyour brother paidto wrestle you.Shane HarrisHow to Know for SureYou're in My ClosetIn my closet, I see clothes,Shoes, hats, and dresses.In my closet, there are messesThat I don't even want to clean,And all the fashions of a highmodel teen.Breanna Rae Clanton

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The MechanicAs I look at the chrome engineAll covered with my greasyhandsAnd it's squirting out withfluids that I've never seen.The silver color trying to shinethrough my greasy handsand colored liquids.Then I hear the roar of thebeautiful chrome engine.Chris BalsterThe Chicken FarmerWorries About ColdWeatherWill they die?Will I starve?Will my children go hungry?0 chickens please live,For we live for each other.Brian Easley

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If Grasshoppers Were TShirtsTheir legs would tickle you and

scratch you all up.I f you put your T-shirts in adresser,

It would hop away. And if youwash them,All the grasshoppers woulddrown.Jerold GloverHelplessHelplessly lost in the deep darkwoods, having a big brownbear chasing youUp a big tall tree and the bearshakingThe tree, and you're helplessWhen you hit the ground,You're helpless when the bearis attacking youAnd tearing you to shredsAnd eating you for breakfast.Shawn SpencerHow to Know for SureYou'rein My BedroomI f you want to be sure you're mmy bedroom,Just come on in, watch yourstep.I see you found the trash can.Now let me help you get it of fyour foot.Now, help pull. Oops!You fell into the clothes pile.Jason Wright

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Gas StationsI f you ever sampled a gasstation,You would know that it tasteslike windex,And goodies from behind thecounter.You would have a stomachproblem from all the gas youdrank. You would tell theattendant you would giveHim a break and have him last,

For dessert.Jamie RootHow to Know for SureYou'rein My Living RoomYou'll know for sureBy the drop-dead odor of cowsAnd by my slob of a sisterReadingOr watching T.V.Everything's noisy till aMassive6 ft., 200-and-somethingPound figure walks in.We hide behind furnitureAnd things that smell.Denise Parker

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How to Know for SureYou'reon the MoonYou would fall m all those

craters that there are.You would meet Armstrong andal l the other astronauts

That have landed.You would have Martianscoming and trying to offeryou cheese,To which hopefully you wouldpolitely say, "No."Jamie RootA Space Under a Sink In anAbandoned HouseA dark and smelly place underthe sink.The smell of mildew is strong.Spider webs are thick incorners.It is too thick to sweep away.Amy WorleyA Packed BusPeople talking and s1ttmg.Listening to the movement ofthe packed bus.But one little boy sitting by thewindow, not talking or

listening, justBlocking out all the people butwanting to sit and be alone.Not knowing what to do.For life is still a minute at atime.Sonja Renee Thomasson

Departure Lounge at anAirportBig fat man drops his suitcasThe suitcase falls open,Everything falls out.A blind man walking with acaneBegging for lots of money.A room full of peopleAll filled with smokeThat smells of hotdogs and

popcorn.You hear planes taking off.People laughing.Children crying.Annie GilleanThe Antique StoreDust collects in every nook acranny,The smell of furniture polishclings to the air.The darkness of the storebackgrounds the lively talkand sales pitches,Most people walk away with cracked and worn item.Everything is old.Older than you.Older than me.Julie Womack

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An Empty PlaygroundThe playground's empty.The empty swings blow in the

wind.The merry-go-round goes foran empty whirl.It's not like it used to be--it'stoo lonely.It smells like emptiness.That's the way it should be,It's not the way it used to be,It's too lonely for me.Chris Block

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PRAIRIE GROVE UPPER ELEMENTARY, JUNIOR HIGHAND HIGH SCHOOL

PRAIRIE GROVE, ARKANSASFaculty Contact: Ada WaxVisiting Writers: Kathryn Gessner and Susan PeraboThe Miss America PageantWas a DogThe Miss America Pageant wasLike a newborn puppy-Disasters everywhere.The contestants were so oldAnd wrinkled, like shar-peis.Dresses so long they remindedThe crowd of sheepdogs.As the shar-pei contestants didtheir few talents,Some resembled drunken, lame

poodles dancingAnd others of a group ofHounds tracking a racoonAs they attempted to sing.In the swimsuit contest, theyresembled bloodhoundsMixed with St. Bernards.

For the most importantQuestion, "What do you wantMost out of life?" TheyAnswered, politely as possible,"A can of Bolo. I'm hungry!"Kara BartholomewOctober Feeling

In October I always camp,When it's dry or when it'sdamp.When the leaves turn,My campfire starts to burn.On a chilly, October day.Scott E. Cummings

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Giant Bats Sucked My BloIt seemed a harmless cave,Safety was my goal.I groped and I crawledThrough the damp, musty holThere appeared all of a suddeA dim red light;As I pushed myself toward itI saw the most horrible sight.Like history's great armies thSwarmed all around.No direction could I run,No escape to be found .I only rememberTheir red, beady eyes;The feel of their bodies,No different than mice.When they left me alone,Pale and lifeless,They left me a memo:You should eat moreVegetables.Sarah Evans

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Like My Father WasFor years I yearnedFor Mr. Right--He had to be perfectLike my father was.Then one day,I met a man.He was much older,But everything I wanted .He was tall and broad,Like my father was.We talked; he was exactlyLike my father was.We married in the springLike my father did.The wedding was beautifulJust like my father was.He had a wallet,Just like my father had.To my horror, his real name,Was just like my father's was.Sis RathI f Cars Were Jell-0I f cars were jell-o,Then you would go riding inthe countryGoing slishety-slushFeeling all sticky inside.You'd roll down a hillGoing splishety-splush.Yes, it would be awful if carsWere squishety-pishety jell-o.Cortney M. Hides

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Princess Murdered 3,000Years Ago Is Back ForRevengeThree thousand years agoin a land far away,A lady married a man,in a castle they did stay.It was a night,all dark and gloom,That a man in blackcharged in her room.He killed her there,away from all sight,And ran far away,before the light.After many thousand years,the castle stands.The ownership was taken,by the killer's hands.On a dark and cloudy night,a stalking figure crept.I t moved up the stairs,and all quiet was kept.The murky lady stopped,at the door she used to know;She took a look around,there was no light that showed.She crept into the door,and steadied her blade.She took a look around,and there the man laid.She surged with her knife,into his side did it run.There the dead man lay,the killer's greatest grandson.Wesley Hart

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Mighty MaybellineThey called her MightyMaybellineShe always had such strengthOne day she took her child to

the zooHer child flipped quite a lengthShe was leaning over the croc'sareaWhen she saw some bacteriaDown she went, with a splatLanding on the croc's welcomematAs the croc came closerMighty Maybelline jumped

overShe took the old crock by thetailAnd with a swing it went a sailMighty Maybelline made theheadlinesNow a trophy on the mantleshines.Melanie Kelgere

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Come the DawnI watch the moon

Against the black-velvetSky of night.But then my face turns towardThe rising sun.

For dawn has come.The first sounds of day,

Like far-off bells,Softly ringing in the wind.But dawn turns to day,

And day to night.And once again,

The world turns round.Tai T. Estopy

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RINGGOLD ELEMENTARYBENTON, ARKANSASFaculty Contact: Cindy HogueVisiting Writers: James Lovel and David Pratt

Rabbits Under the MoonI like to seerabbits underthe moon,dancing inwinter, dancingin June.But most of the timeI have to go to bedtoo soon.So I can't seerabbits underthe moon.Kristen CarterHow to Know When MyBabyBrother is WalkingHow to know whenMy baby brother is walkingIs an easy thing to do.All ya hafta do is listenAnd listen some more.Then you hear a bump!On the floor.Then you hear a Waa, Waa,W aa, and then you hear aShhhhhhh!And then he startsWalking again.Jessaca Smart

What Santa Does in JulySanta takes a trip to Bermudain July.He flies up high in the sky.When he gets there,He goes to his motel.Santa just can't find a hotel!Santa wears flowery shirts andshorts that are big.He is famous in Bermuda fordancing the jig!Sarah AustinCameraSome people don't like meBecause I almost blind them,Because of my bright light.I laugh when people sayFunny things and smile.You push my button, andTwo weeks later you seeOn your wallSomething I made.Aaron Crowe

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Things My Mother Didn'tTell MeMy mother never told meNot to wash the dishesIn the bathtub,So I did.My mother never told meNot to climbIn the window,So I did.My mother never told meI couldn't jumpOn my bed,So I did.My mother never told meI couldn't put shampooIn the freezer,So I did.But my mother did tell meNot to ride my bikeIn the neighbor's yard.But I did anyway.Stacie SealI Am a SpaceshuttleI am in the shapeOf a crayon.I fly high in the sky.I know where we are now.I sound like an explosionWhen I leave.The planets like me.Lorie Blace

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If Lamps Were WhalesLamps would be divingAnd floating over the ocean.The ocean would glowAnd fish could see whereThey were going.The ocean would soundLike clicks going on and off.The ocean water would tasteSalty and hot.It would feel like the sunOn your hands.Niki HeffingtonHow to Know When You'rat the BallparkYou go out on the ball fieldand you see the other team.You hear the crack of the batYou touch your glove with bhands. You can smellthe hot dogsand cigarette smoke go by.You can taste the nachos asthe ball whizzes by.And you catch it.AnonymousHow to Know You're DeadYou feel very uncomfortableYou kind of feel some fright.You know your heart's notbeatingSo then you know you're deaJessaca Smart

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WarThe war goes on with asudden fright,The war goes on all dayand night.Ant those who live therewill be few.Who meant so much tome and you,With cemeteries filled withgrave stonesThe lining of graves andseeing the bones.I just can't wait until it'sall over.But for now I canjust wish on a clover.Stacie SealsHow to Know My BrotherMy brother always hasa ring around his mouth.The boy up the streetnever hasa ring around his mouth.My brother always plays army.The boy up the streetnever plays army.How come my brotheris so unusual?Renaye Wilson

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ROSE BUD ELEMENTARYROSE BUD, ARKANSASFaculty Contact: Doug LangstonVisiting Writers: Lee Durkee, James Frank,

John Thompson, and Grant VeceraThe Room With a 1000ColorsMy room has 1000 colorsifs full of mostly redblue black and greenit has a bunch of junk in itbut thafs why I don,t cleanmy room.I keep throwing raspberry jellyunder the bedbecause I like the color redand if you come to my roomplease bring different colorsbecause my room hasa 1000 colors.Shawn GorhamFactoryMy dad works in a factoryat Matthews. He always workswith heavy cement machines.They feel like concreteand smell like burnt rubber.Tan with black sand all in it,the factory would taste terrible.He comes away sweaty and

tired.He always wants a cold glass oftea.While he, s at work,I worry about a machinefalling on him and hurting him .All you hear is loud machines.Bridget Hendrickson

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Poison RockI can strike youAnd make you bleed.I can eat worms.I can swim in water.But I blend in with the stones.Josh Elliott

BusesMy dad buildsyellow gray greenblue buses5 to 15 buses a day.But when he gets home,my dad has still gotto go and check on our cows.Heath MoteMy MomMy momgoes towork every daybut she doesnot have togo very far.My momgathers eggsout of a chicken house.She has to gatherlots of eggs.My mom getsvery sleepy .Brandy Foster

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My DadMy dad is his own boss.He spends his time workingon cars. He comes home atnight at 10:00 p.m. andeats popcorn and watches TV.Sometimes I go help him.I pick up some toolsand sometimes help put amotor in.I have a good timebecause I amwith him.Tom RossLove is LoveLove is loveThat is thatBut everythingIs the sameBut my lifeIs great myLife is goodMy life is funMy life is niceAnd the bestThing aboutSchool is workAnd theWorst thingAbout schoolIs PE andRecess.Christina Marie Turner

My DadMy dad has very little hairand he's a little wild.He brings so much candy homeit's like he gets trains ofelephantsto give to the zoo.When I get up he says,"Good morning how are you."His work is he fixes Cokeand candy machines.He doesn't like to get up early.I don't either.Caleb PowellMy ShadowMy shadow smells like the laststalk of com in an emptycornfield.My shadow tastes like arattle snake skin.My shadow sounds like abarn door creaking.My shadow feels like the insideof a scarecrow's hat.My shadow looks like askeletonwaiting in a dark closet tojump out and grab you.Class Poem

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All About HolidaysAugust is hot dry rainyand time to cut hay.Halloween comes and you stuffhay inside a scarecrowand go out trick or treating.When November comes,start cooking turkeyand celebrate Thanksgiving.When Christmas comes,be sure to celebrate.Dan FosterMy Mom's BedroomMy mom's bedroom usesall the white there is.But if I could repaintmy mom's bedroom,I would soak the curtains redwith green dotsand paint the book pagesyellow.I'd splash the bed withhot greens.Ryan HawleyMomsSome have long hair Somehave blond hair Some smellnice Some smell like mice Somelook like waterfalls Some looklike cattails.Michelle Anderson

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The Title Is ScaredI ' m scaredwhen people I don't knowcome when I'm by myself.And I'm scared whensomebody knocks on the doorand I don't know this manand he has a gun. And he saidgimmyall your moneyI see people standingat the door.And they are robbers .They robbed the bankawhile ago. And I'm scaredwhen there's somethingunder my bed. And I'm scaredwhen something is a monster.Katrina ArmstrongThe Day I Was BoredWhen I was bored,I touched just aboutEverything in my house.It tasted like buttermilk.It smelled like my wet dog.You could hear the windblowing.You could see a picturein my mind.Kristie Baldridge Poutry

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ST. THERESA'S SCHOOLLITTLE ROCK, ARKANSASFaculty Contact: Alice PfeifferVisiting Writers: Heather Doyal, Kathryn Gessner,and Sonya Reeves

BallparkOne of my favorite places is theballpark- -The smell of the grass, the feelof the dirtRed clay so dense you canHardly dig your cleats outDigging into the batter ' s box to

where your feet are twoinches in the dirt.Standing on the pitcher' smound waiting for the call,Looking into the stands as youSee all your friends and family.The smell of the food, the hotdogs, and the nachos,Nervousness and excitement isthe whole game summed up.The thrill of standing at theplate, waiting for thepitcher's fastest.Stepping into the dirt, swingingthe bat, and watching thatball fly--You say to yourself, I've never

seen a ball fly that far.People in the stands, in thedugout all cheering you on asyou round the bases.This is the ballpark.Adam Cheupsk

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In the LibraryYou know you're in the librarybecause it is quiet.The only thing you can hear isThe hard or soft books opemngor shutting.

It sounds like a soft thunder.You can smell the fresh ink.You can see and taste the dustin the air.The old books feel likesandpaper.The new books feel like baby'sskin.That's how you know you're inthe library.Jessica KronbergHot SauceThe hot sauce is like lavaAll bottled upAnd ready to explode.When used, the food becomesA small villageBeing demolished by the hotmolten lava.I f one took a bite of it,One would be like the peopleIn the village, runmngAnd screaming for help.Holly Hankins

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How to Know for SureYou're in D.C.The streets are busyeverywhere,People on the bus are payingtheir fares.The subway is zooming

underground,All the other people arewalking around.The Washington Monumentstands high in the air,The Lincoln Memorial is

crowded like a fair.Ford's Theater is showinga play,I think they show oneevery day.On the way home there's atraffic jam,Two cars hit each other and i twent KABLAM!When you finally get homeyou're really tired.During the trip the van brokedown and the warranty isexpired.Rick Gunther

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My StreetYou hear the sounds of thebulldozer movingand the kids playing on the

street.You smell the axle grease onthe concrete.You see people come and goand taste the bitternessof the rubber tires screechingfrom the car.And you feel the sticky grassas hard as a brick after you fdown from playing football.Dustin RobersonJunk YardChevies piled up like prisoneLocked in prison tightlypacked.The sound of barking German

Shepherds,Like broken records.Cars looking like innocentpeople ready to plead guiltRusty colors on cars lookingLike someone scraped awayYour soul.August Ort

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New Year's DaySounds like bottle rocketscrackling, people yelling, thethump of kids running.New Year's Day looks likefireworks sparkling in thesky,Children playing games,Pink balloons floating in thesky.Tastes like wine or beer,Carrot cakes or cherry pie,Chocolate covered cherries,Peanut butter brittle.Smells like chocolate chipcookies baking in the oven,People's perfume or cologne.Feels like sweat pouring downmy head,Other children running into meAnd knocking me down.Arrash Amani

AirplaneAn airplane is like a sleekhawk,Floating tn the marshmallowsky,Looking down at the earthWith its gleaming eyes.It lands like a featherGliding gently down to earth.Brian Cia

Rules for Taking a BathRule Number 1: Get yourbrother or sister, older oryounger; run the bath water,

sink her under.Rule Number 2: I f you seemold on the tub, make herscrub it off with your mom'snew rug.Rule Number 3: Get your

mom's new china, and break iton the tub. Then sweep itunderneath the dirty rug.

Rule Number 4: Shut thenew door so hard it falls on thefloor.Rule Number 5: Drain outthe water, or your sister mighttell that you sank her under.

Clarissa MaidaFrustratedFrustrated is when you buy afarmAnd then you find out it's notrich in soilBut rich in ocean water.When you're sleepwalkingYou try to get a drink of milkAnd you miss the cup.When Duck Tales are supposedto be on TVAnd instead it's Oprah Winfrey.When you capture a leprechaunAnd you find out he's out ofgold.Jonathan Strei

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Cemetery of the CapuchinoIn this Roman tombLie the remains of old humanSkulls shaped like a honeycombWith bones for a borderCrosses and skeletonsBeaming right at youWith a wicked old smileOn their ancient facesSmaller bones danceIn patterns on the ceilingShadows of bonesPlastered foreverOn the far wallNathan HamiltonWalking StickI f my sister Jenniferwere a walking stickI would put her in a jar.I could hear from her a talkinglike little beeps coming fromher; I could feel her sitting onmy arm when she's walking onit; I could feel her sting on myback; I could smell the stink ofthe jar after I got her out of thejar . I couldn't taste her unlessI ate her and I could see greendots on her. I could not see onespeck of fur on her. I f I sawher dead from noair in the jar, my mom, dad,brother and everyone elsewouldkill me.Jimmy Lee Parker

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Witch Doctor's HutThe witch doctor's hut IS darthan death.A candle in the comer is theOnly sign of movement or lifMasks, voodoo dolls, and bigBlack pots scattered around.I can almost taste the waterIn the hot humid air.Then the floor squeaksAs I take another step.A deep wicked laugh surrounmy bodyAnd a light flashes behind m

back.I jump and turn m less than

second.There he stood with a bigwooden mask.His mask and his grass skirtshake all around.He is mixing something in onof these pots.

A big puff of smokeLeaps out of his pot...He is gone and a soft lightSlowly fills the room.Nathan Hamilton

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Christmas ..Sounds like crinklingSanta Claus wrapping paper,the clink clink of coins in the

Salvation Army bucket, and thehinging of cash registers.Looks like powderedsugar on funnel cakes, a LiteBrite, scoops of vanilla teecream flying throughthe air.Tastes like the aluminumfoil star on top of the tree.Feels like dry ice burningtaste buds .Smells like burning

candles.7th Grade Class PoemLady in the White DressShe walks through the cold,wet, tall grass alone,in thought,as the wind strugglesto pull her hat off.She stopson top of a hilllooking downshe sees the tiny townwhere she livesand in the distanceis the glow of God's furnacesetting offthe pink colorin the clouds.Leslie Bakosky

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SHERIDAN JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOLSHERIDAN, ARKANSASFaculty Contact: Melinda McDonaldVisiting Writers: Sonya Reeves and Kathryn Gessner

The Cereal SurpriseI am quite hungry.I go and get some cereal.I open the box.From there, I see it!I really don't know what it is.It looks like a bone.I look on the box.It says "Great HalloweenSurprise." I call for my mom.It smells of horrid,drives my brain to its utmostpoint. I have not moved yet.I hear a slow beat.It appears to come from thebone. It grabs me with fear.I call Mom again.She appears to not have heardme. I feel my heart stop.Frank Summers

Boy Has 3 ArmsA three-armed boy smellslike blood,looks like an alien,sounds like machinery.He hears laughter.He sees the world'sastonishment.Candice Thurmond

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Remains Found ofPrehistoric Reptile TribeThat Roamed Earth LongBefore Man Existed!The remains were found of aprehistoric reptile long beforman existed today.The people gather around,excited as a little bluebird

beginning to fly.They wanted to see what hashappened in the world.They want to see the big bonesof the huge reptile.They want to feel the hardbones,as if they were the biggest brickfound.They want to hear the chip, chipof the hammer,chipping away the muddybrown dirt.They want to taste the wet,moist air as the bones entertheir new world.

They want to see what roamedearth before man.Mari Williams

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Poem1 as the motor ranthe Harley gunswe race along

into the sun2 as we pass a housean electric guitar jamsand kids run byand a door slams3 I wished I weregoing towardsthat electric sound

playing the chords4 Just then a sound ran outmusic exploded into the nightwe turn aroundand see a sight5 our feet scrape the sidewalkas we stop to look around

as we turnwe hear another sound6 breaking glass, shatteringglass,the musics gonethe sound is ringingthe song is goneSandy Lowry

How to Know For SureYou're in SheridanAs you drive down 167highway,you 11 come upon a large, redbarnwith a faded old billboardon the roof.A school will let you knowfor sure--And large crowds oflong haired teenssmoking their cigsand drag racing their carsin front of City Hall at night.You 11 also notice a group oftrucksthat look as if their load is toolarge so their tires are flat.Then you u know you re inSheridan.Sandy Lowry

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The Looks That Make GalsGo Ga-gaHe wore a hard, hand-chiseledface like a statue,the perfect beaming smilelike shining sun at morningbreak.His teeth were as whiteas fresh pearls out of a clam.He had thick, lavishing blackhairto let your fingers roll through.His rugged looks make the girlsgo wild.His lips were like freshlyopenedrose petals,his eyes as blue as the Pacific,his nose as cute as a button,his hands as soft as a babe'sbehind,his fragrance lingeringin the morning air.His breath smelled of freshly

roasted chestnutswith a tint of mint,his chest as firm as a full grownstud,his skin as dark as a freshbakedbun.His jeans fit as tightas the peeling of an apple.As we walked in the morningsun,his lips pressed against mine.Becky Shellnut

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SPRINGDALE HIGH SCHOOLSPRINGDALE, ARKANSASFaculty Contact: Paul ClarkVisiting Writers: James Frank and Lee Durkee

The Farmer Explains LifeI reckin this world is kinda big.Where I live there'sa lot of chickens that gopeck'n round the yard andlay their eggs on the wetgreen grass. The cows justwalk around real slowchewing on the big 'o l weedsand sleeping under them big'o l trees. The horses runfree in the field above thebig 'ol mountain. And good 'o lDon, my dog, just lays onfront porch with his eyesclosed and his tongue a hangin'out.Dee Ann WolfeA BirthThe building stands alone;to walk in is to smell theoil that is used on leather.The mother has been in laborfor hours now and sheis getting tired. The coltcomes out, its color isthe color of the sun'sfirst shine in the morning.The colt goes to the motherto feed but she has died;there is no movement of theribs to show thedrawing in of breath.Robert Langley

Untit ledThe dim sun rays shinethrough cracked windowslighting up the dustbeing swept in circlesby the calm warm windThe freshly cut hay isplaced in neat goldenstacks in the dark loftIt waits patiently for thecold winds of winter to comeThe tall ladder rests againsta wall leading to nowherebut to a rusted bucket holdingon to an old bent nailThe cows and chickens joinin chorus filling thedung-stained air withhollow sounds.Thayla PainterUntit ledThe boy walked away from thehouse,his mother standing farbehind. Sight of her vanishedwhen he walkedThrough the towering pines.He came to a lakeWith black rocks surrounding him.He was upset at this point in time.Did not know what to do.Or perhaps he did.Toby Cranston

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Holiness?We were supposed to be atconfession.But we are holy enough, right?So we set out to find the infamous

"Scary Tree."You know the one with the pinkbunny on it that says "Burn inHell." So we got lost; I know whereit is. So I turned around, we setout to find it again. I promise Ididn't see the semi. Really, Ididn't. " I f you don't shut up I willkill us all," I yelled. Finally Ifound a place to turn offand got both the semi and the 5other people in the car off myback. The next Sunday I went toconfession and told him what Idid. "One Hail Mary," he said.And it has never been brought upagain.Denise Pel/inDoctor's DreamYes, I am a 100% certified medicaldoctor.With spare time, my colleaguesenjoy a game of golf. At thecountry club, of course.We all make the money. It's allone fine life. No. Not for thisdoctor. In my spare time, I like tohead over to my friend's car shop.I like to get my hands greasy anddirty, to feel the soreness in myarm after struggling with aheader bolt that wouldn't comeloose, to have sweat drip from myforehead. Now that 's a job.Jason Lourie

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UntitledThe rusted hinges on the armyfoot lockerPried open by his grandson'shandsDisplayed in disarrayCitation, medals, photos, anduniform,Never framed, never displayed.On the dusty walls,Where his purple heart couldhave hung,Was precariously preserved aHome made Father's day card a

children's drawings.Although he'd received a goldwatchFor his retirementIt was the toys we brought himThat he treasured .And on that last huntHe brought down the greatestbuck in the woodsAnd slipped quietlyinto eternityBefore we could bragon his skill.But that was just like Pop,The joy was in the knowing.Gabe BoweryLife on a Ninja 750You feel the air seeping throughyour Guess jeans,as the asphalt grazes your feet.The mosquitos are brave,as they dodge your head.Aaron King

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The Worth of GloryWalking downfrom the dust-covered old stage,sweat drippingfrom all parts of her body.You can still seethe sides of her tired facequivering from the leftover smile.Her knees are shakingas she removesthe broken-in black tap shoesfrom her feet.All the hours of practicefor a 3 minute spark of glory.I look down at my own handsred from clapping.I think to myselfhow I wish to be like her.Then leaving the auditoriumI see her climb into a carbeaten with time,and wonder what is glory worth?lana Wray

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VAN BUREN JUNIOR HIGHVAN BUREN, ARKANSASFaculty Contact: Mrs. ChotardVisiting Writers: David Pratt and Bob ZordaniTransitionThis town has been a soggy inkblot on the ledger book of my life.My cool, calm, calculated lifehas been jerked upside downby hillbilly ways.I long for simple city lifewith choking smog and noisystreets.Steve PonderStarfishStarfish were never hereuntil the first meteor shower.A bunch of young, rebellious starsclung to a meteor.It fell into the ocean,and they went with it.Their mothers found outand grounded them to the oceanfor life.J. MueheFrustrat ionFrustration is a short storyyou forgot was due.Frustration is the jarthat won't come unscrewed.Frustration is a morningyou're really late for school.Frustration is when you don't lookgood, but you really want tobecool.Tiffany Yates

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Great Aunt RubyYou can smell the perfumeas you walk near here.The wrinkling of her skinhas the texture of a prune.Her body shape resemblesthat of a toothpick.The breathing machine ramblesas you enter the room.You can taste her lonelinessin the air as the memoriesof her late husbandfade.Amy McGuireMy FatherI hear the agony of each breath;His weary smile still shows thepain.The room is filled with medicinebottles;None really seem to lead the waHis face is slim and pale withillness;He's like a ghost slipping out ofsight.I move closer, studying each smdetail.And peer into his broad mind.I see the small demons growingendlesslythrough his body, mind, and soulThey steal the hopes for futuredays;I know that he will have to go.Julie Steel

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StarfishZeus had been with one of his girlsAnd was afraid of going hometo Hera,So he drank a little too muchnectar.Hopping on the stepping stonesup to Olympus,He lost his balanceAnd fell off.Some stars held him up until heroseBut they had to shine so hard to

do itThey burned out.Zeus, feeling in debtLet the stars fall to earthAnd live in the warmth of the sea.Mary SpearsI Turned My Cheatin' HubbyIntoA PoochMy husband was whiningagain last night. Hes beendoing that a lot since Ichanged him. He11 nevercheat on another womanagain. He is now a cocker spaniel.He always had big ears anyway.You couldnt really blame him-who would want a wifewith green skin and a Pinnochionose .Angela Grymer

A ManI see a man lying lifelessin a hospital bed with machineshooked up to every part of hisbody.There are machines feeding himmedicines,medicines of every kind.There are machines keeping upwith the slow rhythm of his heart,beeping with every beat.The antisceptic can be smelleddown the hall.Finally all the beeping stopsand everything is quiet.All you can hear is the weepingof his wife lying on his shoulder.This man is my grandfather.Becky BarnettTipsy Official Tinkled on JetPassengers, Say CopsWhen the man got on the planeHe should have used the bathroomthen.Instead he waited up untilHe drank three bottles of straightgtn.He couldn t hold it any longer.In the aisle he stood and went,And became one unlucky, lonelygent.Julie Steel

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VAN-COVE ELEMENTARYWICKES GIFTED AND TALENTED PROGRAMVANDERVOORT AND WICKES, ARK