Category Archives: Arts

The U. S. S. Arizona (a poem by Katie Krulak)

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This past summer I was blessed with the opportunity to visit Pearl Harbor. I was not prepared for how sobering the experience would be. It is one thing to learn about the attack in history class, but quite another to stand where the event transpired. While standing on the memorial built above the harbor, I was inspired to write this poem detailing the events of the Pearl Harbor attack, centered around the U.S.S. Arizona.

The U.S.S. Arizona
There’s oil on the water;
There’s blood in the waves
“Be quick! Don’t stop! Keep working,
We still have men to save.”
Great fires blaze and roar;
Ignite with a hellish glow.
The great inferno rages
Through the corridors below.
Planes and bullets fill the skies
Shrouded by a smoky veil.
The screams and prayers of men
Drowned in the siren’s wail.
Molten metal bends and breaks
As guns and towers fall,
“So many men are still inside,
How can we save them all?”
“Point your guns up towards the sky,”
Bullets blaze pell mell,
As a peaceful Sunday morning
Became a scene from hell.
There’s still oil on the water,
Washed by the tide’s ebb and flow,
As bright fish dance and dart
Through the corridors below.
A monument of gleaming white
Stands tall above the waves,
A solemn mausoleum
For the men we could not save.

A Poem by Katie Krulak

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Night.

A time for dark, dastardly deeds.

Light and warmth fades to cold shadows

While the wind picks up,

Running its icy fingers along your windows,

Setting them to rattling, clattering,

Before tearing the leaves from the trees

And driving them into the sky.

In this world human sound is forbidden,

A violation of the solemn peace.

The moon’s light washes everything

Silver and blue,

Struck by a deathly pallor.

Night.

When the mundane becomes extraordinary.

The mind distorts the world,

Projecting illusions onto the backdrop of darkness.

Dogs become wolves; each breath of air a ghost.

Shadows creep like living entities

Shrouding phantoms and ghouls from view.

Floorboards squeak and creak as whispered

Voices, half imagined, beckon you to wakefulness

Calling you to share in the mystery,

To lurk in the darkness, and howl at the moon;

To revel in the song that a church bell tolls,

To fade into oblivion.

Night.

 

Two Poems by Ethan Shaw

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Divine Speech
How joyous are the bells that peal today,
The speech proceeding forth from Heaven’s core!
Each void gives way to matter, formed not ‘till
This tintinnabulation sounds once more.
A dew descends upon the raw terrain
Which suckles hills and vales into fresh life.
Yet ponder not how life can animate
This ground; for here is never any strife.
What this can govern, but harmonic joy?
Impossible once age corrupts the heart.
Instead, a child’s plaything is the world
Remaining so unless blessed youth depart.

 

Babel’s Pyre

Trees enflamed, once birches, brightly blazing;
Now disfigured shards of ancient forest— Ashen!
On a pyre split asunder.
Quaking earth, enveloping and porous.
Terrifying awe wrought by destruction
Wreaks pure havoc ever cleansing, purging.
Wisdom turns to disenfranchised Fortune
Asking when wealth’s stream the last was gurgling?
“Not since Midas wedded Babel’s daughter!”
With a shudder, Fortune cruelly whispered.
Hubris joining avarice to foster
Lack of sight to see how wounds have festered!

Art Club Pairs Students with Local Artists

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Over the past few years, Westminster’s art program has been growing; and this semester it is growing even further as the school has started an art club. The club meets on a weekly basis with Mrs. Price presiding. During the meetings members create art, which is based on a charge given by local artists. This charge serves as inspiration for the club members.

The first local artist is Gina Hurry, founder and co-director of InSpero. InSpero is an organization that supports the art community in Birmingham. The intent of having a local artist come to the meetings is so they will be able to show their artwork and share about the ways they are able to glorify God through art. Mrs. Hurry’s charge for the first project is “Dreams of Heaven.”

The club is open to anyone who is interested in art. Supplies will be provided to members for a small fee. This club provides students with the opportunity to grow in their creativity and artistic skill while glorifying God with their gifts. The ultimate goal of the art club is to enable the already talented artists in our school to grow further in their abilities and to allow them to grow in their knowledge of God, the great Creator, and how to glorify Him through their artwork.

By Hannah Price, Class of 2017

Poetry: To Define or Not To Define

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By Mackie Benson, Class of 2017

Throughout time, people discover different stories: tales of sorrow, adventure, love, and religion.  They label the majority of these poetry.  So what exactly is poetry?  Webster’s Dictionary defines poetry as “writing that formulates a concentrated imaginative awareness of experience in language chosen and arranged to create a specific emotional response through meaning, sound, and rhythm.”  This definition seems to cover the meaning of this art, yet is there not so much more to it?  For example, Homer’s Iliad is one of the most famous poems of all time.  It has the elements of war, honor, mythology, and betrayal woven together into the tapestry of the Trojan War.  The tale has remained with humanity for years.

As much as this epic is beloved, the rest of  poetry cannot be confined by a definition formed with one poem.  With all of these differences among the poetic arts, there seems to be no way to cleanly define poetry.  Poetry is more complex than a few words used to constrict a style.  Good poems grasp emotions and bend them to the author’s will.  Some people find peace by telling stories from their own imagination.  Some of these people find a way to keep their art around for decades like Robert Frost, Homer, and King David.

Poetry paints a picture through its rhythm and words.  It lights a spark in the imagination, setting our thoughts ablaze with inspiration.  A little girl finds her escape and creates beauty.  The old man tells his stories that have been with him through the years on a small piece of paper with an old ballpoint pen for future generations.  Poems could be loud like thunder or quiet like a whispering wind.  They are for the young and the old, the hated and the loved.

So what exactly is poetry?  In the end such a beautiful art must refuse to be limited by any single definition.

 

A Prayer

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By Katie Brooks Boone, Class of 2014

 

Love is gone and gradually I am drifting.

Into this hole I am slowly slipping.

I am cold and dead inside,

Emptiness in my mind.

What is the hole?

Is it even real?

It is a lie.

I am alone.

But You enter.

You open the door,

Make me whole once more.

Make me alive again. You free me.

I now have peace because of You, my King.

How to Grow a Story

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by Sarah McDaniel, Class of 2017

When people think of writing, they think about one of the following things: school or books. Writing is so much more than that. It goes beyond the persuasive paragraph and the expository essay. It is all about imagination and dedication.

It all starts with a little idea. This small idea is like a seed in a garden. From this seed roots start growing. These roots turn into a character, then two, then they become a landscape, a picture in the depths of your mind. Just like tending a plant, it takes a lot of time and work to make this idea perfect. Soon, the plot and climax grow, then finally you’re ending. You step back to see your idea has grown into an amazing story.

However, you don’t stop there. You keep editing. In other words, you provide the environment for your plant to thrive in. Sometimes you will go through a drought where you have no words to add. Eventually, you will get the perfect story. You just need to find the right inspiration, that first, tiny seed. It can be anything from a storm in the sky to a dog running astray. Some people write about a popular band or their favorite television show. For certain individuals it is easier to write about facts and prove points, while for others imagination is the key as he or she writes about a girl who lived in the 1700s.

Writing can do much more than just entertain. Writing gives one a chance to escape his or her troubles and become part of a new life. It can give you a fresh perspective. Everybody is a writer. Passion is behind every story and is therefore within every writer. Relating back to the original analogy, passion is what drives you to find the perfect seed for your story. Then, you keep this passion and grow your entire garden. The art of writing may be difficult, but it can help you in so many ways.

Sylvia Welch – A Prayer to the High King

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Forgive me of my sin tonight.
I pray my heart would be contrite.
Protect me from Satan’s evil grasp
And let me always to your Word hold fast.

Shelter and peace from your Word I do seek,
But each day fears attack me; I am weak.
Only your strength can hold me up,
So I may drink from your everlasting cup.

I lay at your feet all of my fears
Feeling comfort you’ll sustain me all my years.
Singing praises to you gives me great joy
And leaves me confident my heart will never be void.

Your grace is a sunrise offering a new start,
Urging me to spread this light which changed my heart.
So now I humbly ask that you give me a thirst
Not to seek empty self glory but to always put the High King first.