Rhyme & Reason, Fall 2022

First, as always, I would like to thank the artists who have produced the amazing pieces showcased in these next 30 pages.

Next, a huge thank-you to the teachers and our advisor, Mrs. Batchelor, who have supported artists and sta alike through this process.

And nally, this all would not have been possible without the tireless work of the R&R sta .

We hope you enjoy this 20th edition of R&R Creative Arts Magazine.

Sincerely,

Abigail Wells Editor-in-Chief

FROM THE EDITOR FROM THE EDITOR

OF CONTENTS OF CONTENTS

Editor: Colin Welden

Nathanael Adegoke

Grace Roche

U N T I T L E D.

MY HEART. MY HEART.

BY ANONYMOUS

My heart. It’s yours. Not gi ed but stolen. Because a gi means I wanted you to have it, or I trusted you to keep it, or that it was meant for you. But it wasn’t.

e lies you fed me through that bright handsome smile they carried me away on a vacation for a while, a vacation from my problems, and hurt insecurities

because I stupidly trusted that you were the right one for me.

I thought I was running from all the bad but no.

I simply sprinted right into a virus I can’t see, but I know it lives to continuously infect me with its open invitation because it somehow unlocked the key. My heart.

Beating a million miles a minute but it was mine till you stole it while I was distracted in your eyes,

e eyes that infected me with those girly butter ies but now seem to just make me cry, Make me hungry for the life that was before you before us before what I thought was my vacation before you stole my heart and sped away like a train leaving a station.

Good morning! e weather is amazing today, don’t you think? I love it when the sky is this shade of pink, and the clouds are u y cotton candy that I could just grab and eat. I suppose I should tell you about the accident, right? I’m sorry, I don’t really remember much… I was driving to work when I saw something standing in the road. I thought it was… a unicorn. And I wanted to pet the unicorn. But then there was a lot of blood… ey won’t answer my questions about the person I hit. I swear it was an accident though, I would never hurt anyone! Never, I swear! I swear! I would never hurt anyone because… well, I know what it’s like to be hurt. I don’t want anyone else to deal with the pain. I don’t remember much, but when I was younger… my parents were very neglectful. ey fought a lot. Sometimes, they–they hurt me; I think. I don’t remember. I don’t want to remember. And that girl, walking with the man in the road, she looked a lot like me, and her father looked a lot like my father and–

Do you have any candy? I really like strawberry la y ta y, or maybe pink gumdrops, or um… pink marshmallows. You don’t? at’s a shame. I’m really hungry.

I don’t understand why you’re asking so many questions about my parents. I haven’t seen them in a while. My dad died a few years back, because of a heart murmur, and my mother followed soon a er. She was always very frail, you

know. Weak. I mean, she was just very sad all the time. She never seemed to believe me when I talked about all the beautiful things in life. e ying cats, the double rainbows, and the little talking mice that scurry around all the time. I think when you’re sad, you don’t want to notice the happy things, because you like being sad. I’m not like that. When I’m sad, I think of all my favorite things, like puppies and cinnamon rolls and pink! I don’t like thinking about the things that make me sad. I don’t like thinking about the accident.

I don’t want to talk about the accident! I don’t remember! ere was no man, there was just a unicorn, and I was listening to Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows, and I wanted to pet the unicorn. Nothing bad has happened to me lately. No, ever. Everything is perfect. I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t remember…

I’ve never been diagnosed with any mental disorders, no. Or any physical ailments. I actually don’t remember going to the doctor at all in the past twenty years… but that’s okay, nothing bad happens to me. I have the unicorns and the puppies to protect me from the bad things.

Yes, I’m willing to pay for the damages.

Yes, I live alone. No, I’m sorry. I don’t remember.

BY ANONYMOUS

HEAD IN THE CLOUDS HEAD IN THE CLOUDS

BY NATHANAEL ADEGOKE

Romanticizing madness

Leaves me habitized to sadness

Leaves me reeling in this feeling

It makes me want to die

Pitying those who pity me

Can’t believe they deal healthily

Why is it so hard to breathe?

If you wanna know why I don’t let me show through en here are all the things I’d never say to you

I tell myself-

You’ll never write a word that everyone hasn’t heard

So why even bother?

You’re just such a bother

You’re a burden

You’re hurting

But don’t tell a soul

Cause you’re too ugly

You’re like a black hole

Burdening and bothering is blasphemy against me

Is all I seem to know

If I didn’t hate myself

Maybe I’d help myself

Maybe I’d feel worthy

I don’t think they heard me.

When my smiles scream for lifelines

When I’m not focused all the time

I’m in my head

Wishing I was dead

Wishing I’d wish for some help

But I’m stuck with the blasphemy against me

It’s all I seem to know

But I don’t know anything

My mind is a little thing

So why does it take down my will?

WHAT I’M THINKING

WHAT

I’M THINKING

BY LILY BELL

UNTITLED UNTITLED

BY MALLORY TINGLE

MARY AND HER PINK MARY AND HER PINK

BY LILY

Mary Matthews walked down marble steps in her golden heels

Suitcase packed, her fears of nishing school real

A senator father and an heiress mother, what else could she be?

Must become a lady despite her dreams of ying over the sea

A perfect pink hat, only memories of the estate of her youth

Mary’s sister was done When Mary rst begun e plan was: learn for a while

To earn that walk down the aisle

But might as well take a break to travel So, Mary ran there too.

Crossing the seas

Mary’s happy as can be Wind on her face

e pink hat kept in place

Ready for the adventures ahead Dreams in her head

As she sees the perfect white coast

e Matthews enjoyed European delights And Mary met a sailor as crazy as the night

And when Mr. Matthew gave a call Saying she shouldn’t be there at all

Mary took her pink On his boat, together

Saying she shouldn’t

Mary took her pink On his boat, together

Far away as the winds

Love bound them together

Crossing Mary’s happy Wind on e pink hat

She and her sailor’s

But there’s boats Her father stopped them before

Covered in shadows of Mourning at nishing school screamed

And two years of studies le A rich man sounded But it was much en loving the sailor whose All dressed She prepared Of her brand-new Clutching the faded hat as though

When her husband bought her So, during

HAT’S ADVENTURES

HAT’S ADVENTURES

pink hat and her man together they ran shouldn’t be there at all pink hat and her man together they ran winds would take them together like a tangled string

Crossing the seas happy as can be her face kept in place sailor’s future ahead boats covered in red before the American coast

the future she dreamed school where she couldn’t have screamed her with a ring and her hat sounded dreary much less eerie whose heart couldn’t beat back dressed in white prepared for the sight brand-new home though it were all that she had her a new one, it just made sad during the days

She entertained

Until night crept along

And she felt all wrong

Mary didn’t even cry when she heard Her husband had died from an enemy’s sword

Crossing the seas

Mary’s numb as can be

A frown on her face

e pink hat kept in place

Going back, Europe’s ahead

Even though her sailor is still dead

She nds herself old and alone now, so what else can she do?

With nothing else there Mary nds some cool air

In an art lled building that reminds her of her old house

She nds one painting and stares at it quiet as a church mouse

It reminds her of the men that she’s lost

Pink hat and all

People have a ball

Gawking at her like she’s a part of the art show

And maybe she is now so Mary Matthews stands still and remembers the life that she and that tattered pink hat lived.

BY JACKSON BURNS

How lucky i am

To hear the wind in the trees

Speaking to my soul

UNTITLED UNTITLED THE PLACE THE PLACE

BY COLIN WELDEN

Check your expectations at the door

Leave your preconceptions behind is is the place where all are equal is is the place where no one hides

Forsake your pristine presentation

ere’s no need for suit and tie

For here the widow cracks a smile

And the jokester dares to cry

Every face her is a stranger

So abandon all your fear

Leave your mask behind you

No one knows you here

B

T E N S O R O F I C E

SHOOT.

SHOOT.

BY COLIN WELDEN

Somewhere deep in the city, there was a streetlamp, buzzing with electricity. Moths ock to it, both because of the glowing light and the shelter o ered by the dome of the light, protecting them from the rain. Below the light, there was a man. He wore a long coat with the collar turned up to hide his face. He sported a black panama, casting a shadow over his eyes. Across the street, the light from a window on the fourth oor of an apartment complex ickered out, and another gure emerged onto the re escape. He was smaller, younger, and less seasoned than the other man, but he knew how to use the silver pistol tucked into the back of his jeans.

e two men met with no acknowledgement aside from a brief nod. ere was much to be done that night.

e older man had to admit that despite his initial disdain for his partner, the younger man was skilled, and he would make a dangerous enemy. e older man wondered if, over the course of the two years they had worked together, he had become fond of the boy. It was such a shame that he had to die. Reluctantly, the older man reached for the pistol in his pocket, admiring the way its sleek surface reected the moonlight. is gun had killed before. It would kill again. He raised the gun, aiming at the back of the younger man’s head. He could do this.

“You won’t do it,” the younger man countered, as if his partner had spoken the words aloud. Both had stopped in their tracks, standing perfectly still on the city sidewalk. It would be so easy to pull the trigger. e older man could shoot his partner and go home to his son, as he did every night. But this kill was di erent. is kill was personal. He had been given this assignment as a punishment, a reminder of what happened when he allowed himself to care about someone. Still, he was unable to pull the trigger. e younger man turned around, pointing an accusatory nger. “You won’t shoot me.”

“I will,” the older man protested, his hands shaking. “I’ll do it, just watch!”

But the younger man only shook his head and sighed. ey stood in silence for a moment. e older man knew what he had to do. He knew what the punishment was for reneging on an assignment. Still, his hands trembled. His nger fell from the trigger. e gun dropped to the ground.

“I can’t.”

“I know,” the younger man said, not unkindly. “I know.”

e gunshot cracked through the night, seeming to shatter the sky itself. e sidewalk was stained dark red, and the man on the ground let out a guttural noise as he choked on his own blood. Frowning slightly, the other man tucked away his gun, turned on his heel, and went home.

GHOST GHOST

BY COLIN WELDEN

ere are days when I don’t think of you

When your ghost neglects to haunt my mind

I no longer hear your voice calling my name

And the details of your face have le me behind

I can close my eyes without seeing your face

I don’t cry over photos of us anymore I can go to sleep without thinking you’re there

My fantasies don’t include you showing up at my door

It’s been a year since they lowered you into the ground

But only now are you nally dead

I won’t think of you tomorrow

Stay out of my head.

PRINT & CHARCOAL PRINT & CHARCOAL

BY ANDONIA ALEXANDER-SMITH

ARASAKA ARASAKA

BY NATHANAEL ADEGOKE

ARASAKA v.2 ARASAKA v.2

BY NATHANAEL ADEGOKE

APARTMENT 208 APARTMENT 208

BY COLIN WELDEN

At 11:59pm on a Wednesday, Dave waits outside 63 Willow Court Road, watching the window of apartment 208, waiting for the signal. It comes a few seconds later when Jack, the apartment’s inhabitant, opens the curtains and cracks open the window. Dave quietly ascends the re escape and opens the window so that he can sit on the sill. Jack knows he’s there before he sees him. Before he catches the pervasive scent of cigarettes or hears the scu of boots on the re escape, he knows. is is how it always is.

ey both sit on the windowsill without looking at each other, Jack facing the inside of the room while Dave watches the city lights. Neither of them can suppress their smiles as their ngers curl around each other.

“I missed you,” Dave admits.

“I missed you too,” Jack replies, putting his head in his hands. “I didn’t expect you to come back.”

“Of course, I came. I wouldn’t just leave you.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

ey both sigh, leaning against each other. Jack thinks of the question he is too afraid to ask. Dave thinks of the answer. Both are ashamed.

Jack stands up to pace around his room, wringing his hands, and Dave twists around to face him. “Jack…”

“Does she know?”

“No. Not yet. But she knows something. Keeps snooping around my room, asking about everything. She doesn’t know about you, though, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“You’re getting sloppy.”

“Maybe I am. Maybe I’m hoping I get caught. Wouldn’t it be easier? I could just leave. Stay here every night. With you. Would that be so bad?” e man’s eyes burn with desperation, and Jack knows it would be so easy to just agree, to say that that would be all he could ever want, that if Jack could just have him, it would be enough. But he can’t.

Jack walks back to the window, leaning over Dave’s head. “You should go.”

“I probably should,” he agrees, but neither of them moves. ey always do this, entertaining the idea of letting the whole thing drop, of making the right decision, even though they both know they won’t.

A few hours later, just before the sun rises, Dave slips away, gently pressing his lips to Jack’s forehead before tiptoeing down the re escape and disappearing into the night. No one questions the young man out on an early walk; no one hears him when he slips through the window of his own home and slides into bed next to his wife, who doesn’t even stir. He watches her intently, wondering what would happen if he woke her up right now and told her everything. He thinks of his children. He thinks of his own family, who tells him that this is all for the best, that his true self deserves to remain hidden deep in the slums of the city, con ned to apartment 208 in 63 Willow Court Road. He closes his eyes and dri s into a dreamless sleep. Jack lies alone in his bed, thinking of Dave, wondering if this is how love is.

HAND SPIRAL HAND SPIRAL

BY ANDONIA ALEXANDER-SMITH

STARS STARS

Here I am in the darkness I am trapped here I am safe here

I don’t think I will ever leave I am not sure that I want to In the shadow of the night no one can see

e cracks in my smile

e scars on my skin

e aws I can’t shake

In the shadows

No one can see me

Shine brightly my star

Bring hope to the night

You’re all that I have

When all’s said and done

Shine brightly my star

I’m afraid of the sun

SHARKS SHARKS

BY ANDONIA ALEXANDER-SMITH

SHARKS SHARKS

FALSEPROMISES FALSEPROMISES

BY NATHANAEL ADEGOKE

FALSEPROMISES FALSEPROMISES

ALLEY ANGLE ALLEY ANGLE

BY NATHANAEL ADEGOKE

By: Julia Luttrell

Itwasn’tworthit

the other day I ate a tree

it was big and tall and green

But now I can’t sing or talk or breathe or move or play or laugh or eat

cause now I have a big ol’ tree growing out inside of me

Animals

By: Baxter Kelley

Everyone loves animals but Dogs and cats are too much

Frogs and rats are small hogs and bats are annoying snails and sloths are boring

Everyone’s scared of snakes sh die too soon

pandas are always hungry and bears kill you basically, what I’m saying is that there is no animal for you. I hope you get the message that bears will always kill you.

Life Over ere

Day dreamer

Head in the clouds

Losing the future

Lost in the now My body is present My feet on the ground e weight of reality Holding me down My mind wanders elsewhere Somewhere in space

Unchained from reality Without time Without place

It’s not that I hate you Or that I don’t care

It’s just that it’s easier: Life over there

By: Anonymous

I have all the freedom I don’t have to be me As the sight of myself Gets harder to see Abandon all pretense To hell with this mask My method is patience

Existence my task Lost in my own mind e world fades away I’m silent and distant With nothing to say You tap on my shoulder An anchor A place And for this I hate you I don’t want to wake

Stagger

By: Nathanael

Adegoke

By: Nathanael Adegoke

Untitled

RESURGE RESURGE

LANDSCAPE LANDSCAPE ANONYMOUS