High School Art
In Art class at High School
Commissioned to do a painting.
I never was confident
When it came to sketching.
In the last hour, the teacher said,
“Create a watercolor.”
I queued for my brush
& looked outside.
A bright sunny day
& a cool blue sky.
On a branch of an oak tree,
Fluttered two magpies.
I dipped the bristle
In the water,
Scratched the Maya Blue.
Then started stroking
A wonderful azure.
Next came the tree,
Then the magpies.
Five minutes later,
I felt so high.
To my eye,
It was the best sketch yet.
I held up the masterpiece
& puffed out my chest.
Before all the students,
One bully quipped,
Pointing his rough finger,
He yelled, “That’s shit!”
“Do one, Buck Teeth,”
I snapped
“You ghastly prick!”
Mr. Hart screamed,
“You two girls, that’s it!
If you don’t pipe down,
Get out of my class.
& if you can’t
Change your attitude,
Don’t come back!”
I took it literally
& walked out the class.
Regrettably –
I refused to go back.
Cajoled me 3 months later
To join pottery class.
Enthusiasm buried,
& when I look back:
High school potential dented
Because of a piece of art
& the teacher, & the bully
I can’t seem to forget.
another poem by Skendong: sprawling shells on the high school playground