THE
LOS T
ART
The Lost Art Volume 2 2015
McKinney High School 1400 Wilson Creek Parkway McKinney, TX 75069
AUTUMN
5 “Seasons” by Keith Ayiku 6-7 art by Christian Perez “Journey to Find Myself ” by Teyah Murillo 8-9 photo by Taylor Peabody “Who Am I?” by Gregory Morgan 10-11 art by Shayne Grace “Truth #4” by Hal Adams 12-13 photo by Taylor Peabody “Important” by Treasure Treanor 14 photo by Lilibeth Sanchez “Goodbye” by Austin Henry 15 photo by Colin Mitchell “56” by Noor Hummadi 16-17 art by Sara Suttle “The One in Charge” by Kaela McKim 18-19 photo by Noah Hernandez “Me, Myself and I” by Jourdan Williams 20-21 art by Christian Perez “Love and Family Are One and the Same” by Channing Jones 22-23 photo by Clayton Dishner
WINTER 25
“Seven-headed Cerberus” by Kai Foster 26-27 art by Alysa Delgado “It is Really, Really Hard to Let Go” by Shayne Grace 28-29 art by Shayne Grace “Prosperous Death” by Jenna Rincon 30 art by Carmela Najera “What a Good Girl” by Danielle Howard 31 photo by Aleyam Velazquez Castro “The Class” by Adan G. Duhart 32-33 photo by Rhi Quesenberry “Fathers” by Chase Crump 34-35 photo by Patricia Alquiza “Answer Me” by Kristen Jolly 36-37 photo by Mikol Kindle “Talis Iocus!” by Robb Lee 38 “Winter” by Sam Hyden 39 photo by Victoria Sandoval “Rosaline” by Margot Deatherage 40-41 art by Sara Suttle “Christmas Tree Sorrows” by Shannon Doyle 42-43 art by Shayne Grace
SPRING 45
“A Voice Unheard” by Hal Adams 46-47 art by Amelia Kinsinger “Rage” by Alex Hollingsworth 48-49 photo by Luis Garcia “Chrysanthemum” by Keith Ayiku 50-51 photo by Colin Mitchell “I Stand” by Kyra Rogers 52-53 photo by Carennia Go “Dancer” by Kayla Benitez 54-55 “Hablar de ti” by Idalia Juarez photo by Fernando Henandez “Ireland” by Macilynn Avary 56-57 art by Amanda Willis “The Poet” by Shannon Doyle 58 art by Margot Deatherage “It” by Gabriel Atkins 59 art by Gillian Ryan
SUMMER
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“Five Years From Now” by Bailey Wicks 62-63 photo by Frances Humphrey “Drive” by Bree Johnson 64-65 art by Elizabeth Chinn “Elephant” by Kai Foster 66-67 “Grapes” by Shannon Doyle art by Alex Macias Untitled by Nathan Salazar 68-69 art by Josie Olsson Untitled by Katelynn Cannon 70-71 art by Lauren Hawkins “One Man Lost Didn’t Stop Another” by Dakota Hughes 72 art by Magi Ye “The Immense and Indescribable Blob” by Margot Deatherage 73-88
Autumn
Seasons
A Journey to Find Myself Who Am I? Truth #4 Important Goodbye 56 The One in Charge Me, Myself, and I Love and Family Are One And The Same
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A JOURNEY TO FIND MYSELF My lips were raw, and my tongue had been soiled because I was forever enchanted by the taste of Sin. As my days became desolate and life started to prolong, I had realized that I was deprived. The mirror that I had looked into every morning reflected the haggardness in my eyes and the gauntness in my body. So I began my journey to seek what I was
hungry for. But along that journey, I became mesmerized and, at the same time, disgusted by this world. I had learned that people become objects and objects become worth more than people. My life began to twist and turn like strings on a puppet, and before I knew it, my strings were so tangled that I soon was paralyzed with the feeling of being lost. So now I’m faced with a new journey; a journey to find myself. - Teyah Murillo photo by Taylor Peabody
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WHO AM I? My name is tease. I can joke and make you laugh. I can make you feel good. I can lift your spirits, and fill you up with kindness. Or I can put you down. I can make you cry. I can make you want to look over your shoulder everywhere you go. I can confuse you and make you think, “How can this be?” My name is brush. I can glide through your hair, though I tend to get stuck. I can be your tool for a blank canvas, anxious to spread the premature beauty. I can be a gentle nudge, a hope for something more. Or I can be overreaching, making a mistake on the painting. I can get stuck in your head. I can accidently push you over, making you think, “Why did you do that?” My name is jail. There’s nothing very nice to say about me. I keep you locked in, feeling alone and ominous. I am four walls of seclusion. Four walls of turmoil. Four walls of shame. I keep you thinking, “Why am I here?” -Gregory Morgan art by Shayne Grace
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TRUTH #4 What once was here is now no more A testament to time before That had once come, and now has passed Impermanent – nothing can last Or so they say, and so it goes And as for where – nobody knows But that was then, and this is now The moment lives, don’t ask me how Just ask me what you want to do Because today I’ll stay with you But if today goes by too fast And time cannot let feelings last I’ll think fondly to what was then And remember us two again And in that way, you are still here Kept in my thoughts, holding you near So time may pass and feelings fade But I won’t have to be afraid What once was here never has gone A memory that still lives on -Hal Adams photo by Taylor Peabody
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IMPORTANT It is important to remember that people Are not people. People are skin, cells, vitamins, and atoms. The person who bullied you in fifth grade? They are 73% water, Last night, when your dad hit you? His brain has a left and right side. The girl who gave you that look because your bag wasn’t Gucci? She has an esophagus. The people who have the nerve to Scare you, Beat you, Mock you, Laugh at you Are. Just. Bodies. But, The people who love you – they are not people.
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Your best friend. When she hugs you, She is the Milky Way. The boy who kisses your hand before your lips, He is Kolob, The star that scientists believe is the closest to heaven. The teacher who shares a favorite book with you, They are a falling star, People who love you Are made from bits of space. People who are made from skin and bones Never take time to think about space. Space in all its glory is a Wondrous, Fantastic thing. Just like you. -Treasure Treanor photo by Lilibeth Sanchez
GOODBYE I’ll hide the tears in my pillow. I’ll smile with my eyes. Just don’t pull away from me; Don’t stab me with those knives. I’ll give you lilies to hide my thorns. I’ll be brave enough to face the heat. But when you leave, save me enough strength To be able to stand on my own two feet. I’ve always wondered why people drift apart; What causes a relationship to die. I guess now I know for sure, The weight of the word “Goodbye.” -Austin Henry photo by Collin Mitchell
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56 Thank you for the 56 on that Pre-Cal test, it really raised my self-esteem. 56 Put it by itself It seems like a lot 56 dogs 56 dragons 56 broken dreams 56%? Throw it away I entered my password to get onto the grade book Yes, surely I made above an 80% 56 hours of studying will get me that, won’t it? But no. 56% I probably should’ve studied 100 hours. Maybe then I wouldn’t be thinking about the retake But nevertheless: thank you. -Noor Hummadi art by Sara Suttle
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THE ONE IN CHARGE There is a controller for everything, whether you like it Or not. They take your happiness and dreams and maybe your spot. They go forth and then back and then back and then forth when the real controller is right on the porch But the controller does have an Interesting name. Filled with not one, not two, but three letters arranged. First starts with a y, and ends with a u Count to 15 in the alphabet and you’ll have the last clue Y o u. -Kaela McKim photo by Noah Hernandez
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ME, MYSELF, AND I I am omnipotence. Chosen to be right here right now. Uttering my thoughts into existence, transmitting verbal frequencies, the one whose words will age with time, yet will still have substance, since there are no boundaries attached to my pen. A powerful ambiguity. I. -Jourdan Williams art by Christian Perez
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LOVE AND FAMILY ARE ONE AND THE SAME Channing Lovelace. I can’t find her anywhere. Neither could anyone else, 18 years ago. I’ve never seen her face, but my father has. I wonder what he was doing, watching the news on the night I was to be born. Was it before, during, or after? That’s the funny thing about being born – you don’t remember that it happened. It’s like being named, but we’re reminded of it every day. I wonder the names they sifted through. The givers of life. I wonder if he, shirt tucked in, tie squeezing his throat, on his way to church, knew he would name his daughter “young wolf.” Like the young wolf stolen from her life, I stole her name, and I try to honor it like a young wolf should. Long nights howling at the moon, doing all the things my soul drags me to do. Ripping at the throats of those who stand in my way. Living, simply because I was given another day. Emotion, strong as the glow in a wolf ’s hypnotizing eyes. I’ve always been jealous of his relationship with God. Why can’t he be as open to talking openly with me, as he is to talking with a supreme being? And then I remember he gave me this name. Not Caleb, like my brother before. A good, solid, Bible name. Not because it was practical and what he believed. No, perhaps more simple than that. The beauty. The feeling when hearing it aloud. Channing. Primal. I wonder if his head jerked up. Did a smile creep across his face? Like ears perk up, wolves wait to feed their kin, fur ruffles in the wild night wind. Like the leader prancing proud. Did he run to my mother to tell her the passion he felt in a name? Meat swinging in his jaw to give to the pack he loves unconditionally. -Channing Jones art by Clayton Dishner
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WINTER Seven-headed Cerberus It is Really, Really Hard to Let Go Prosperous Death What a Good Girl The Class Fathers Answer Me Talis Iocus! Winter Rosaline Christmas Tree Sorrows
SEVEN-HEADEDCERBERUS Seven-headed Cerberus wove larva into a tattered cloth while the rest of us moths flitted about towards the golden light of the exit. One of those drooling, dripping heads knows by nose that I’m slipping by. Though, too enamored by the glow of her Sunday morning TV, she can’t see tiny me sneak beneath flabby jowls. Do your job, you big, dumb dog! Guard us, your hellish, writhing treasure till we shake ourselves of your vice. Stupid, stupid Seven-headed Cerberus! -Kai Foster art by Alysa Delgado
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IT IS REALLY,REALLY HARD TO LET GO It is really, really hard to let go when you’re tangled in someone’s life just like our hands, intertwined two wistful kids caught in a summer dream that we never thought would wither dry. And I realized, too late, that it was winter already, and if time were measured in miles we’d be worlds away. I feel the guilt every day, raking its claws down my back it wakes me up in the morning with a smirk whispers, “what have you done?” It shrinks away with the shadows of noon, only to return as they stretch towards the setting sun. A fire had erupted between us, and I turned my head I told you about my pain, you took it as a “never come back,” and the signal between us went static then dead. So still, I wonder, if you sit there too your knees a pillow to cradle your head, if remorse is weary to show, and if you are having as much trouble as I am letting go? -Shayne Grace art by Shayne Grace
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WHAT A GOOD GIRL She had heard these words for as long as she could remember. From friends. Strangers. A constant shower of praise. “What a good girl” When she as she was told. “What a good girl” When she put the needs of others before her own. “What a good girl” When she hid her faults from the world, trying to live up to the standards that had been set by people who didn’t even know her. The words haunted her, no matter what she did. “What a good girl” When she hid her face from her friends and family, so they couldn’t tell she’d been crying. “What a good girl” When she wore cute sweaters to cover up the scars running down her wrists. “What a good girl” When she furiously washed out her mouth, scrubbing away any scent of the cigarette smoke on her breath. No one could ever imagine the weight she carried. “Her?” they’d say. “But she’s such a good girl.” -Danielle Howard photo by Aleyam Velazquez Castro
PROSPEROUS DEATH She smiled contemptuously Treacherous veins destroyed her eyes Glossy marble shaped her brow Do not fear the old grim For she is more unsuspecting Than the sneakiest shadows Or quiet corners Contempt does not shadow sympathy But shadows the unrelenting scholars Who take death and life prosperously Death brings an unrequited life of bliss to the living And tranquility to those who are not. What a turning table it is to think that life is better when we should hold onto the end. -Jenna Rincon art by Carmela Najera
THE CLASS The ride is harsh and strainful on the body as we stop from sign to sign. And when we reach our dreaded destination, we tip the driver with paused emotionless expressions devoid of all reason and logic. And when our restless souls lie outside the white towering brick walls, our backs are forced to hold the struggles of our worst nightmares. One by one they go through the grand crystalline doors. Dragging one foot in front of the other only to reach a cold table and stool. Our instructions are clear and precise. And after we procrastinate until the last second, we raise our arms and strike the chisel with a hammer, etching in marvelous and complicated symbols in the hard rock. And when all is said and done, we leave this infernal place with whatever force we have left, only to find that our average was a 72. -Adan G. Duhart photo by Rhi Quesenberry
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FATHERS
In loving memory of my grandfather, Don H. Hill, Sr. A father is someone who is there when their child needs them. Someone who is willing to give anything for his child. Someone who will go through Heaven, Hell, or both to shield their child from darkness in the world they live in. That is a father. But some dads? Some are not a father. Some are men who see their children as a nuisance rather than a blessing. Never there when needed, always leaving the kids to wonder if it was something they had done. If maybe they were the reason their family was not whole. Always wondering why the other families were so happy. And why the other kids know the joy of a full family. So when my dad came to me at the age of 12. Asking me for forgiveness, I denied him that. He had not earned that right. I wanted a father but not him. He had 12 years to make amends, to be a father. 12 years too late. -Chase Crump photo by Patricia Alquiza
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ANSWER ME Although the sun may be out, the rain hasn’t stopped falling, the ground hasn’t ceased its calling. A wave of depression washes over my heart. It pushes me like a cart. Relentlessly tearing me apart. Tears, like waterfalls, drift from my eyes. Darkness clouds my mind. I’m in a bind. That’s not so kind. Forever surrounded in a melancholy world. Will I ever be able to escape from this darkness… in this abyss? Answer me, Please. You... like poison that flows through my veins. Slowly infecting me second by second. You...with words thick with acid, that drips down my very being and corrodes my aching heart. You...with hypnotizing eyes as if they are a pocket watch endlessly swinging back and forth. You...with a taunting smile as if you're Lucifer himself. Deceitfully deceiving me as if you are the fabled Labyrinth. You... with a melodic voice like an angel's, that fills me with peace as if I'm in the eye of a hurricane. But up close, you're a siren in disguise, leading me, slowly...ever so slowly to a devastating wreck. That will result in my death. Answer me, Please. Before you, I saw nothing but sunny days. Now I'm traveling in a sinister maze, that fills eternally with tricky games. Brought on by countless destructive hurricanes. Forever and always chasing tomorrow, in order to escape this sorrow. Will you let me go? And let me run on into the sunset without you? -Kristen Jolly photo by Mikol Kindle
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TALIS IOCUS! I lift the bottle to my lips And take a swig, take a sip What an endearing little couplet! Addiction is never a joke -Robb Lee photo by Victoria Sandoval
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WINTER leaves swirl through the streets dead branches sway with the wind children bundle up -Sam Hyden
ROSALINE When you told me you loved me you whispered it like a secret so quiet and private, as if you were ashamed. When I started to drift, hoping you would catch me you turned and ran the other way. Did you think I did not love you? When you ran into her arms, I asked myself was there something wrong with me? Did I not hold you tight enough to keep you from falling away? Did I not kiss you tenderly enough that you had to go and kiss the face of death? An angel spoke yet she spoke a curse that doomed you the moment your eyes met hers. My love, as you took your final breath, did the thought of me ever cross your mind? Or did you not realize that the poison that burned down your throat burned a hole in my chest that could never be healed. You told me that you loved me but Lucifer had loved God before he was cast down into eternal darkness. -Margot Deatherage art by Sara Suttle
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CHRISTMASTREESORROWS I knew this day was coming. The day every Christmas tree dreads the most. The end of this life. The start of another? Who knows? They’re approaching. Their ugly grinning faces gazing up, admiring my incredible height. Their dirty fingers grasping at my beautiful bristles. Stay tall. Stay proud. Oh God. Here he comes - the axe man. Wooden hilt, shiny silver blade. Sharpened to perfection. Goodbye cruel world. He’s swinging it. He’s… He’s… THWACK Owwwwwwww. OH LORD. This is the end of me. THWACK Why are they doing this? WHY? What have I done to deserve this? They’re still smiling, perhaps even more than before. THWACK I AM IN SERIOUS PAIN. Oh no. I’m falling. Falling… Ouch. Woah, I’ve never felt the muddy ground before. It’s awful. Oh my God, is that me? That stupid, pathetic little stump? It’s… not part of me anymore. I’ve been cut in half. Weird. Am I invincible or something? Surely death is soon to come.
Woooah, okay. Now I’m being lifted up. This is… well, humiliating. Oh please, where are they taking me? What is that… WHAT IS THAT? They’re wrapping me up in some sort of tight, stringy seal. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. HELP I NEED CARBON DIOXIDE. I hate this. If I had arms, these people would have it coming big time. Okay, lifting me again. Is this a Christmas tree alter or something? I’m ready to be sacrificed. Just get me out of this thing. They’re strapping me down on the top of one of those human transporter things with wheels. I’m so confined right now. Oh, I think we’re moving. Yep, definitely moving. Picking up speed… Oh man, this is scary. We’re really moving now! I’m gonna fly right off of this, I know it. This is absolute torture. WHERE ARE THEY TAKING ME? If I could cry, I would. Trees aren’t supposed to move at all. Let alone speed 60 miles an hour. HELP. Okay, okay. We’re slowing down. I see houses. I see trees. But not Christmas trees. Other ones. Boring ones. HELLO BRETHREN. CARE TO LEND A HAND? Oh wait. You don’t have limbs either.
We’ve stopped. Miraculously, I’m still attached to this stupid death machine. Oh great, they’re touching me again. Please don’t take me to the chophouse. I want to live. Alright, they’re taking me inside. Ugh, now I really can’t breathe… Woah, what’s happening? They’re tilting me. If they drop me again, someone’s going to die. Oh, yes. YES. I am officially once again upright. I’m standing in some sort of metal shoe. It feels weird but at least I’m vertical. I hated being on my side. And they’re taking this plastic prison off of me. Thank you, thank you. Oh sweet Jesus, I can stretch. Okay what’s this giant box doing in front of me? The humans are gathering around it now. They’re pulling out a long wire with lights on it. Is this the end? They’re wrapping it around me.
Wow. I feel awesome. A bedazzled conifer – who’d have thought? They’re all gazing at me, grinning. There’s more items in the box. Colorful balls and tiny characters with little hooks on them. The people are smothering me in them. I honestly feel rather glorious. Like a king or something. Reds and golds and greens. All over me. And it’s warm in here. Cozy. Unlike the tree lot. Is this what I was so afraid of? That terrible journey was somehow worth it. I’ve always wanted to be admired. I love this. -Shannon Doyle art by Shayne Grace
SPRING A Voice Unheard Rage Chrysanthemum I Stand Dancer Hablar de ti Ireland The Poet It
AVOICEUNHEARD Undisclosed and unfulfilled Holding back a true intent Thoughts waiting to be distilled Yet condemned to be misspent Unrevealed and unresolved Alone, a secret resides Latent thoughts kept uninvolved Doomed to remain unrealized Longing to express a voice That too long had been deterred Unable to make the choice Remaining a voice unheard Afraid to become estranged From friendships made long ago An identity arranged To follow the status quo Will it ever be the way I so wanted it to be? Maybe far away, someday I’ll finally become me -Hal Adams art by Ameila Kinslinger
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RAGE I was in a dark place Not a place devoid of light Of compassion Of sensitivity The sun was no stranger I was not alone, But I was. I had a life, But I wanted to live. I sought not some epic conclusion, nor fantastic exclamation, but a much rarer fantasy. The Manþa of the mind, and with a similar level of tangibility. An incredible, beautiful, and entirely unmolested state of being. A passion, a fervor, a fire. Better suited to fields of gleaming dragons and trees bearing gifts of gold, I was condemned to normality, unveiled attraction, and the horrible, spiteful misery of hope. Nothing was to be done. Nothing could be done, of that I was sure.... And then I wasn’t. Her name was ____ _____ _____ Now I shield my eyes to see -Alex Hollingsworth photo by Luis Garcia
CHRYSANTHEMUM Maybe it was cuz you were pretty Maybe it was that you, being dyed all the colors of beauty and marvelousness And I, being cloaked in all semblances of the word darkness Would clash I’ve wondered if I’m drawn in like solar energy into black clothing But, in reverse I’ve wondered if I’m doused in all things macabre And you being the radiance that permeates all things, would pierce me Maybe I’m just craving the light like some monstrous being of night Like you’re some morsel before a myriad hunger that could only end in A collision As if I breathe in through rafter vents Sent like hairpins bent Against a board of chalk that only seems to stalk All things once loyal, they seem to balk Against this simile made of me Or maybe this metaphor against noir But only if I say three words That soon flit away like birds Cast into the barren night Wish ashen wings devoid of flight If only they’d stay with me But better they leave so you don’t see How drawn I am to all your light And I, who is myriad faulted night I’ll end in words that are but three Hopefully they’ll meet thee But it’s time I end this rant I tell With three words, I’ll smite the light dark spell I love you. -Keith Ayiku photo by Luis Garcia
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I STAND The sun is shining on my back The rain is pouring on my head But no matter what I will firmly stand No weather shall keep me down No voice will tell me I am weak For I do not stand for only myself I stand for the women who cannot speak I stand for the women who suffer So silently, so lightly Who tread on glass with a smile so tender To those souls who feel lonely I wish they knew that they were never alone Because I stand here with a sign in one hand And my heart in another I will scream until my lungs give out I will stand until the pen is put to paper And we are finally given our rights Not just as women But as human beings -Kyra Rogers photo by Carnnia Go
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DANCER She moved like no other Her hips whipped Side to side She swallowed her fears She drank her sorrows He watched her perform He saw the way She flew effortlessly across the stage Her oasis She was his oasis He fell in love by the way she moved She fell in love by the way he watched. -Kayla Benitez photo by Fernando Hernandez
HABLAR DE TI Hablar de ti is like talking about the most beautiful poetry. Hablar de ti is impossible because I’d never finish. Hablar de ti is to decipher the most beautiful thing in life. Hablar de ti is inventing something that is never going to exist. Call me crazy if I love you es cosa mia porque At the end, no one will understand. If I live, it is for you. If I die, it is for you. -Idalia Juarez
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IRELAND She lets Atlantic waters Shape her rugged shores From sandy unspoiled beaches To her mighty granite towers Warm breezes from the Gulf Stream She welcomes when they arrive Even though they bring her Rain laden cloudy skies Yet that is what makes Her grass so emerald green The most beautiful islands That you have ever seen Her silver lakes and rivers And heather covered hills Brown peat from bogs does welcome Warding off deep winter chills Her seeds are scattered over This great globe that we frequent When we return to her again It’s a present Heaven sent To look and admire The views that she provides We stand there as the tears fall And our hearts, they fill with pride. -Macilynn Avary art by Amanda Willis
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THE POET The pen, Quivering in my aching hand, Stabs at the paper Like a wobbly dartboard. I am the poet, Locked in a room Of knobless doors And handless clocks Ticking away eternity. The deadline Haunts me like a phantom In the night. It walks through prison walls To greet me. Tick Tock TICK TOCK The beating of it’s ghostly heart Pounds upon my own.
Rattled by the ceaseless drumming, My restless mind Dares not drift From the dogged path. It cries out To my drooping eyes, To my wounded soul, To my stained and aching hand still grasping at that pen. March on March on March on
-Shannon Doyle
art by Margot Deatherage
IT I found myself staring into It again yesterday or the day before, I can’t seem to recall. It never has eyes, yet it always peers into me, reading me. It always has form, yet no matter how It torments me, It is always a thing of little consequence like unused gears in the machinations of the universe. I see always see new paradises within Its gaze. Nirvana, Valhalla, a new Avalon greeted me on every occasion. Yet I found no reprieve from modernity within Its seductive glare. Only solemn fury to know I will never enter their golden halls of eternal perfection. I will never behold the wonder of Hyboria. I will never discover the decadence of Shambala. I will never find my Thule. As always, I break from Its gaze once again only to greet It the next day in bated breath, hoping to peer within the unearthly corners of my mind. -Gabriel Atkins art by Gillian Ryan
SUMMER Five Years From Now Drive Elephant Grapes Untitled (Nathan Salazar) Untitled (Katelynn Cannon) One Man Lost Didn’t Stop Another The Immense and Indescribable Blob
FIVE YEARS FROM NOW 5 years from now I want to be happy. I don’t know my goals. I hope to go to college Getting a degree. I just want to be me. 5 years from now I’ll be twenty-two Living in an apartment Off of campus. I’m ready to travel Then my life will unravel. In 2020 my vision will be clear In another town far from here. 5 years from now I just want to be happy, Free and young Because my life has just begun. - Bailey Wicks photo by Frances Humphrey
DRIVE Something inside of me is alive It’s bursting, running like a river Constant. It gives me the drive to move forward When the only things I’m certain about Are the things I’ve learned from My mistakes in the past. Now my eyes are open. I’m running straight into the winds of deceit. I think, I think, I think No, I know. I know I’m ready To take this far, Far, far away where I’m alone Only then will I know. -Bree Johnson art by Elizabeth Chinn
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ELEPHANT I managed to fit an elephant in the room, but nobody wants to talk about it. -Kai Foster
GRAPES People are grapes. We all grow. We all wine. We all jam. -Shannon Doyle art by Alexis Macias
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A lush, green ocean Soft to the skin, calm to the eye Full of vibrancy Filled with the frolicking youth -Nathan Salazar art by Josie Olsson
And today I was in deep thought, Tomorrow I’m in love, Next week I’m depressed, Next month I’ll be happy. I can’t hide these feelings. They say being happy is all that matters, But the question is… What makes you happy? And today I strip the layers of my heart to my love. He is what makes me happy. He brings happiness to my soul. -Katelynn Cannon art by Lauren Hawkins
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ONEMANLOSTDIDN’TSTOPANOTHER One man lost didn’t stop another He kept moving forward, while the other rose above He achieved, and the other watched and believed We still care, even though he doesn’t live We move on together, hoping to once meet again All we hold are memories in our mind, and Care for another in our hearts One man falls and rises above, The other stands strong and moves On to achievement. -Dakota Hughes art by Magi Ye
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS It is with immense gratitude that we dedicate this volume of The Lost Art to the following: The English Department, for inspiring students to write with passion, pursue truth in every endeavor, and explore their own experiences on the page. The Art Department, for providing a space where students create new worlds every day and for sharing those with us. The Photography Department, for showing students how to use their cameras to capture stories. Lori Oglesbee, for mentoring this new publication and fielding endless questions with infinite patience and wisdom. The Directors and the Board of Trustees of McKinney Education Foundation, for generously donating funds to this publication. Dr. Faris, for supporting the creative pursuits of the whole student body. We could not have done this without you. Sincerely, The Lost Art Staff
COLOPHON The Lost Art was produced using Adobe InDesign CC, Adobe Photoshop CC and Adobe Illustrator CC. We chose Bell MT for our body font (12 pt.), folios (12 pt.), as well as the names of the authors, poets, and artists (12 pt.). For our titles, we used Bangla MN (17 pt.).
INDEX Hal Adams...............................................13,47 Gabriel Atkins.............................................44 Macilynn Avary...........................................57 Keith Ayiku...............................................7,50 Kayla Benitez...............................................55 Katelynn Cannon........................................68 Elizabeth Chinn..........................................63 Chase Crump...............................................34 Margot Deatherage..................41,58,71-86 Clayton Dishner..........................................22 Shannon Doyle...........................42,43,58,65 Adan G. Duhart..........................................33 Kai Foster...............................................26,65 Luis Garcia..................................................48 Carennia Go...........................................52,53 Shayne Grace..............................10,28,29,43 Lauren Hawkins.........................................69 Austin Henry...............................................15 Fernando Hernandez................................54 Alex Hollingsworth...................................49 Danielle Howard.........................................31 Dakota Hughes............................................70 Noor Hummadi...........................................17 Frances Humphrey................................60,61 Sam Hyden...................................................39 Bree Johnson................................................62
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Channing Jones..........................................23 Idalia Juarez................................................55 Amelia Kinsinger.......................................46 Robb Lee......................................................38 Alex Macias.................................................64 Aleyam Velazquez Castro........................31 Kaela McKim..............................................19 Colin Mitchell.................................15,50,51 Gregory Morgan.......................................11 Teyah Murillo..............................................9 Carmela Najera..........................................30 Josie Olsson...........................................66,67 Taylor Peabody....................................8,9,12 Christian Perez..................................6,20,21 Rhi Quesenberry........................................32 Jenna Rincon...............................................30 Kyra Rogers................................................53 Gillian Ryan................................................44 Nathan Salazar............................................66 Lilibeth Sanchez.........................................14 Sara Suttle...................................16,17,40,41 Treasure Treanor......................................14 Bailey Wicks...............................................61 Jourdan Williams.......................................21 Amanda Willis............................................56 Magi Ye........................................................70