Fear Poems cont'd, Rm. 208

Another installment in the fear poems! This one from Room 208.

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The Fear
Rachel Javellana and Room 208, Mrs. Bourret’s 7th grade class, Lee School

I fear when someone pops out of the corner, when someone says BOO! from the other
side of the wall.
I fear cancer—you never know if someone you care about will die from cancer.
I fear being outside in the dark after hours.
I fear not knowing what is going to happen in the future; is something amazing going to
happen or is something terrible going to happen?
I fear when I’m watching a scary movie at night.
I fear being home alone at night.
I fear green eyes. They’re so evilish.
I fear big, mean, scary clowns.
I fear walking alone with my little sister after school not knowing what can happen.
I fear evil strangers killing innocent people; who will be next?
I fear the body, ’cause I don’t know what develops and when it develops.
I fear being awake at night and getting out of bed for any reason. I feel that someone will
grab my feet and take me away to a horrible world. Or that someone is waiting
for me to take away.
I fear being alone in the house in the dark scary night.
I fear to know I fail my parents in my grades at school.
I fear ruining my life and wasting my childhood by growing up too fast.
I fear a tiger attacking me in a jungle.
I fear big airplanes that could fall.
I fear Iraq attacking America at day or night.
I fear the ISAT test; too much answers.
I fear mice scratching inside the walls.
I fear the darkness because of the couch in the living room.
I fear my dog we sleep at night.
I fear scary clowns that chase me at night or the day of Halloween, ’cause I fear them
catching me.
I fear when I walk through the basement, turn off the lights and I walk up the stairs. I
feel like someone’s behind me.
I fear huge mountains that could fall on you.
I fear scary movies.
I fear people dying. Knowing that one day I won’t be able to hug them and have a
conversation.
I fear when I look in my closet and my light is off but when I walk up the light flickers red.
I fear when I walk downstairs to the basement; when I’m on the last step, the light starts
flickering above me.
I fear the dark when I’m alone in my room and the closet is open.
I fear sleeping in the night in my basement.
I fear what people say when I’m not around.
I fear to lose a friend by a word in a conversation.
I fear breaking my arm ollieing down a stairset.
I fear when my life ends. And goes to waste.
I fear dying at the skatepark at night.
I fear my coaches, ’cause they push me. I do it but I don’t know if I did it right.
I fear that the stuff that happens in those ridiculous horror flicks will happen to me, even
though I know it’s not real.
I fear being up in the night.
I fear the dark basement when I go down alone.
I fear heights when I look down and I’m up high.
I fear the lightning in the dark sky.
I fear walking down a dark scary alley.
I fear the airplanes when they’re flying on top of the house.
I fear going into an abandoned building at night.
I fear people at night when I go outside.
I fear the basement, getting the food or broom out of fridge and closet. Feeling like
someone will come out and take me away from my life.
I fear clowns. They look very weird, their hair is scary.
I fear when two people split a pole.
I fear someone is going to break into the house.
I fear going to the basement.
I fear tornadoes hitting the area.
I fear sleeping by myself.
I fear planes. They’re big and scary. I hate when they go in the air.
I fear if there are any germs in my body.
I fear when I walk by myself.
I fear when ghosts chase me.
I fear failure, ’cause I don’t like losing/going down in volleyball or my meets when I am
at cross country/track.
I fear the smell of smoke. I know someone is in danger.
I fear the dark. It brings chills down my spine by the quietness in the room.
I fear that the Bears won’t make the Superbowl, ’til a while.
I fear not passing a test, knowing that high schools look at your seventh grade grades.
I fear going to the alley.
I fear flying high after I saw Final Destination the movie.
I fear the agony of defeat, when you worked so hard to lose it all.
I fear airplanes because you never know if you can crash or something.
I fear when I’m alone in the dark, when I watch scary movies.
I fear blindness. You lose one eye then the other, then you’re blind.
I fear heights; it feels like standing 100 feet way up in the sky.
I fear the number 12.
I fear walking in the night in my street.
I fear disappointing the people who care about me by not making the right decisions in
life.
I fear my parents dying and staying alone.
I fear my dark basement while doing the laundry.
I fear images that just pop into my head in an instant.
I fear the fear.

Room 210--Fear Poem

Here's the fear poem from Ms. Harris' 7th grade class in room 210. This one came a little later in my process, and for this one I made the decision to cut "I fear" from each line, and just leave the rest of the line to stand alone. The students liked the result, and so did I, if only just for the sake of variety. I found that compiling these poems from the students' contributions was pretty time-consuming, much more than I anticipated, but well worth the effort.

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I fear—
Rachel Javellana & Room 210, Ms. Harris’ 7th grade class, Lee School

Not passing 7th grade because I haven’t been doing good.
Getting lost in the woods, losing my life.
Losing a friend. I love all my friends.
That a blind guy might beat me to death with his little stick thing.
Knowing that one day I’m going to grow up and let the good times roll.
The zodiac may come and kill my family.
That what Al Gore is talking about might be true.
Dark water because I think I will drown in it and no one will find me.
The thought of never coming back to see my mom again.
My life when it’s in danger.
The darkness, to know there’s no light but only fear.
Myself in a small box.
Dark places where there is no light coming in.
Small things touching me from head to toes.
Hearing loud noises at night thinking someone will break in.
Dying.
That one day my family won’t wake up and will be dead.
My attic in the dark.
My family leaving me behind once more like they did some time ago.
Monsters in haunted houses that hold weapons.
The dolls in my room watching me.
Clowns—they are scary.
People who don’t know me and hate me for who they think I am.
Getting shot when I’m at my cousin’s crib.
People with dark masks because I don’t know where they have been.
Getting jumped.
That my heart’s gonna get stolen and the thief is never gonna wanna give it back.
Some girl who walks up to me and swears for no reason.
Falling off a plane when it turns.
Losing the one person who knows me best.
Child molesters.
Saying the alphabet.
Big dogs because they can kill me.
People that I love may go away.
Falling off the tall ramp that mocks me for not having the ability to drop in.
The world will end in less than 15 years.
Getting hit by my brother when I’m not looking.
The dark gloomy room in the basement where no one bothers to go.
The fact that death can be right around the corner everywhere you go.
The big dog because I got chased by a big dog before.
Animals as they get wild and crazy.
My shadows.
Paper.
Airplanes when they are starting to move.
Losing my leg.
The hobos that roam the streets yelling, “Tell Christina Garcia to leave me alone!”
and pee when they’re walking.
That thing on that house.
That Satan comes and burns us.
My life for being so tough.
The fact of being the same as the others.
Puppets; I don’t like how they look at you with their big ol’ eyes.
That George Bush might die of retardedness.
Death.
My dad dying ’cause I love him.
Having to lose the thing that I love and care for.
The world’s end.
My mind when I don’t know the answer.
Flunking.
Falling alone when no one’s around.
People who lie and lie and can’t be trusted.
Looking into a mirror late at night thinking someone will appear.
Dumb people. They are so scary for what they do. WE SHOULD BE CAREFUL
OF THEM.
Losing my dog, losing my mom.
The sound of somebody screaming.
Markers that are dried out.
Losing my parents, my grandma or grandpa dying.
Being alone because I think there is someone watching me.
Dying—I don’t know how I am going to die.
Not getting an Ipod for my birthday.
But mostly my death, or my family members’ deaths!
The exorcist. She is ugly and scary.
Spiders. Just to look at them makes me silent.
The thought of death and how close it might be to me.
The end of the world.
My washer and dryer when they come alive.
My house because one person died in the living room.
My death because I hate the feeling of someone crying and I hate the sound of crying.
My own spirit.

Rm. 209--Fear

Here is another fear poem from Mr. Czoski's 7th grade class in room 209. When I brought in the final product, typed and copied, we read it as a group, each person reading one fear. The students said that it was interesting to read some fears that might be secret or unshared, "how other kids might be outside of school," and that it "felt good" to read about fears that they might have also, because "then you don't feel so alone."


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Seventy-five
Rachel Javellana and Rm. 209, Mr. Czoski’s 7th grade class

I fear the height of tall buildings, because of 9/11.
I fear not knowing when death will come.
I fear big dogs (wolves, coyotes) trying to eat me.
I fear my parents arguing and listening to all their anger come out.
I fear being on a tall building.
I fear electric shocks, frayed wires and bad outlets.
I fear clowns.
I fear being paralyzed because I don’t want to be helpless.
I fear the rooms in the hall when it is dark, because something will pop out.
I fear snakes with poisonous venom.
I fear my sister’s dolls with their cold eyes just staring at you.
I fear noises that you hear when nobody’s home.
I fear shadows.
I fear my parents being taken by immigration.
Fear to me is dying but I don’t fear when it will come.
I fear my parents, when I do something wrong.
I fear driving across bridges because it might collapse while I drive on it.
I fear dying with no past.
I fear acid.
I fear falling off the beam in my gymnastics competition.
I fear my sister.
I fear the clothes in my closet because they look like a person in the dark.
Fear to me is growing up to be murdered.
I also fear when my dog tries to attack me and bite me.
I fear attics or basements, and because there are a lot of things that move there.
I fear the sight of heights.
I fear planes crashing down.
I fear being left alone.
I fear airplanes like the incident on 9/11.
I fear losing a friend who’s been with me through a lot.
I fear getting shot out in my streets.
I fear not getting into a good high school.
I fear that Mr. Espinoza doesn’t R.I.P.
I fear the hot fire.
I fear red snakes.
I fear ending up with no future.
I fear being in a plane because I think it might blow up with me in.
I fear when my sister fights with my brother.
I fear dolls with green eyes.
Getting in an accident.
Clowns they just scare me.
I fear the dead, because it looks like they’re going to come out of their grave and get us.
I fear being alone with nobody to take care of me.
I fear Wing Lee.
I fear one day when I least expect it, I will get killed.
I fear that I won’t graduate from high school.
I fear the angry voice that comes out of my teacher.
I fear oceans that I might sink in.
Getting bit by spiders.
I fear the deep seas with many living creatures.
I fear hobos when they ask, Can I have a dollar?
I fear sad clowns.
I fear people who hurt animals for selfish desires.
I fear coming back from summer break to hard stares.
I fear being lost in the darkness with no one around to tell me where I’m going.
I fear the way I will die.
Strangers trying to kill me or kidnap me.
I fear dying because after you die, what’s gonna happen?
I fear a sharp needle sucking out blood.
I fear drowning in high waters.
I fear that Mr. Espinoza might not like our actions.
I fear getting an F on a test.
My mini door in my closet.
I fear the word.
I fear the sound of someone screaming.
I fear my step-brother when he comes to my house.
I fear being suffocated by the one I care for.
I fear getting shot because you could die.
I fear death coming so soon.
I fear people I don’t know who will hurt me.
Fear to me is a disease I know I will go through to the pain and it’s supposed to help me.
I fear the door that squeaks and creaks like a broken rocking chair.
I fear fingers pointing at me.
I fear being in the hands of God.

I just fear.

Portrait Poems--6th graders

In my one 6th grade classroom at Lee--Mrs. Hernandez' class in room 109--I presented "Abuelito Who" by Sandra Cisneros, from her book My Wicked Wicked Ways. We talked about the voice and narrative of the poem, and had an easy entree into metaphor discussing how the speaker compares her abuelito to, or associates him with, certain objects. I asked them to write a poem that "paints a picture" of someone with whom they are close, using similar methods to Cisneros': What they DO (or LIKE TO DO), what they SAY or HAVE SAID (call you, advice, etc.), and several objects that REMIND YOU OF THEM (or that you ASSOCIATE WITH THEM).

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My Dad
Stephanie M.

My dad
My dad is like a saw.
who snores like a lion roaring
who calls me free
who is like an elf
who loves to laugh
is crazy for his family.
He is help when you
need it
who loves to play.
He is like a toll man
workin' all day.
My dad my wonderful
dad.


My Grandma
Daisy A.

My grandma who cooks with the
recipe books.
She tells me I'm a twinkle star
At night she calls me the moon
My grandma is a chocolate chip cookie
who lives in the bakery all day
She's the heart who gives me all
of her love


Grandpa
Christian H.

Grandpa who is tools and
medicine. Who is dogs
and work. Who says
to me buddy. Who works
like the tools of a worker. Whose head is
full of lice. Grandpa
who is like tools.

P.S.--This is my fear (Room 203, 8th grade)

I was amazed by the sheer volume of clown fears in this one. They crop up in nearly every class so far, but this outdoes them all in clown terror.

I was impressed by how several of the students found representative images for their fears ("the grade F on the paper in front of me," "mascara on her face," the idea of rage "yelling out," and many others...)

This version is from Mr. Balcazar's 8th grade class in room 203.


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P.S. This is my fear
Room 203, Mr. Balcazar's 8th grade class at Lee School and Rachel Javellana


I fear losing the ones I love that are close to me.
I fear the dark in the basement, hearing a voice.
I fear going into the dark by myself when I’m all alone. You’ll never know when you might run into something unexpectable.
I fear the darkness.
I fear the dark. It’s like a hole in the world.
I fear the rage inside me when it yells out.
I fear my mom when she has her mascara on her face
I fear the grade F on the paper in front of me.
I fear being stranded in the middle of nowhere.
I fear scary movies.
I fear falling in love with the wrong person, because they’ll just let you fall.
I fear that my grandpa always comes out with a baseball bat.
I fear the dark.
I fear dying.
I fear the white painted face of the big red nose along with the freakishly worn costume by the
hideous clowns.
I fear poisonous snakes.
I fear the painted face that tries to make you laugh but instead cry and run.
I fear spiders.
I fear not waking up the next day to see people I care for.
I fear snakes.
I fear dolls.
I fear my beloved Mickey Mouse finding someone else.
I fear clowns.
I fear the smile in people’s faces which may not even be true.
I fear that I might lose someone I really love.
I fear the day the world will fall apart and say goodbye to all its wonders.
I fear heights.
I fear heights when I’m on top of a building and feel like I’m about to fall.
I fear that I might get shot.
I fear clowns who tried to make you laugh but instead cry.
I fear clowns with their huge smiles even when they are sad, always laughing for no reason.
I fear mimicks, being in a room with mimicks everywhere. Thinking they might torture me to death.
I fear the spider.
I fear the man with a gun in his hands.
I fear the red nose that is near the creepy smile.
I fear dying and not knowing what life is about.
I fear heights.
I fear shadows.
I fear my life becoming short from being diagnosed with a disease.
I fear not knowing what my future holds in store for me.
I fear dying.
I fear the monsters.
I fear waking up in the middle of the night.
I fear small places.
I fear a scary movie because it may happen in my dream.
I fear clowns.
I fear being apart from those I love.
I fear getting jumped.
I fear I will die.
I fear spiders, eight legs, and so scary-looking.
I fear the person I might become or that I am.
I fear the day my parents will leave us and not come back.
I fear ghosts lurking in my house watching my every move.
I fear clowns. They frighten me, thinking deep inside of them they want to kill me.
I fear death.
I fear getting shot.
I fear the number 10.
I fear that somebody is going to die, someone in my family.
I fear heights that take you up and you get butterflies in your stomach.
One thing I will never fear is Death. I have encountered death numerous times. If I die then I die. My time is up and it’s Game Over for me.
I fear that I will die.
I fear many scary things, like the clown “It.”
I fear death.
I fear clowns.
I fear clowns.
I fear snakes.
I fear getting raped. I have heard of a lot of girls being raped.
I fear heights.
I fear losing my best friend.

This is my fear.
P.S. I fear getting a shot or taking out blood. It’s scary.

I Fear What I Fear: 8th grade, Rm. 204

These cento poems just keep opening up new worlds to me. As I cut up the students' anonymous submissions to make the lines, I'm finding it hard to know what to do with the strips afterwards. I've been taking pictures of them. This piece has a lot of interesting approaches to common topics like death, darkness, and family. I admire how the students came at their lines with some incredibly inventive language. And one student, perhaps not on purpose, gave us our ending. Enjoy. This is from Mrs. Fenton's 8th grade class in Room 204.

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I Fear What I Fear
Room 204, Mrs. Fenton's 8th grade class at Lee School and Rachel Javellana


I am scared of people that stare at me and do not look away.
I fear the other world of the death.
I fear homeless people.
I fear death and the fact of not living.
I fear dying because I want to see my family grow.
I fear being alone.
I fear death coming into my family.
I fear the darkness in the street when I’m walking alone.
I fear the bad, haunting and tripping me.
I fear the fact of letting my anger GO and hurting others.
I fear that my life is just made up because people think that I am just a show-off.
I fear cats because they like scaring me.
I fear monsters in my closet.
I fear the darkness of my attic when it is dark outside.
I fear the other side of the dark.
I fear not being good in school.
I fear losing someone I love. Someone I care about.
I fear dark woods in the dark.
I fear her having to go back.
I fear behaving bad with my mom and dad.
I fear lightning when it’s flashing in the sky.
I fear the darkness without her being there.
I fear the big ugly monsters under my bed.
I fear not getting into the high school.
I fear me not living up to my dream and proving to everyone that I can be something. Don’t say I can’t be nothing.
I am scared to look at myself in the mirror in the dark.
I fear what’s going to happen in the future.
I am afraid to die and feel lonely when I die.
I fear my dog howling at the moon.
I fear spiders walking around the ugly body.
I fear getting shot because of violence.
I fear getting shot to my dome.
I fear dying in my sleep.
I fear seeing the person I love with someone else.
I fear the lonely scary dark.
I fear not living.
I fear homework on weekends.
I fear her missing major events in my life.
I fear the darkness.
I fear my mouth, what it says.
I fear clowns with their scary face.
I fear the sharp needles that hold pain.
I fear not making it to the majors.
I fear losing my PS2.
I fear crazy cats. I think they would bite my finger out of my hand.
I fear death because of how criminals are always killing people.
I fear bugs, those who have dozens of legs and sting.
I fear a stranger who comes into my house. When I’m alone.
I fear bad grades. The ones lower than seventy percent.
I fear growing up without my parents because they get killed or die when I’m still a young age.
I fear big vicious dogs.
I fear getting a deadly disease.
I fear quizzes because I may fail.
I fear scared cats.
I fear me getting killed at a young age.
I fear dying.
I fear not being able to play baseball.
I fear her having to go back for a long time.
I fear spiders, that they will crawl on me and try to eat me.
I fear nasty little bugs crawling everywhere.
I fear a crazy man.
I fear old homes with no life, dark.
I fear wasps and bees because they will sting me.
I fear that I will not make it to be a rapper because I don’t know how to rhyme.
I fear cats that don’t know me.
I the dark because I can’t see so I don’t know if something might jump out.
I fear the fact that my parents are sick.
I fear clowns; scary, ugly, loud clowns.
I fear little kids when I have to babysit.
I fear spiders; ugly, big spiders. They crawl on people.
I fear dying.
I fear seeing spiders.
I fear monsters.
I fear my dad coming home drunk.
I fear messing up my right arm.
I fear when I am walking in the street alone in the dark.
I fear pitch black places.
I fear doing drugs in the future.
I fear my mind, who may think wrong sometimes.
I fear what I fear.
I fear nothing ’cause I’m scared of nothing.
I fear nothing.
I fear nothing.

This is What I Fear, Rm. 202, 8th grade

I brought in an excerpt of "82 Reasons Not to Get Out of Bed," by Denise Duhamel and her Florida International University M.F.A. students. It is a collaborative piece, the result of the entire class and the teacher writing down several fears, then one student compiling them into a poem and titling it. This method of compiling assorted lines or parts to make a poem is often called a cento.

For my 7th and 8th grade classes, I asked them to write down 3 fears on a blank paper--no names--emphasizing that they should be particular and concrete, zooming in on the fear. I compiled them into collaborative pieces, literally cutting up the sheets of paper and drawing out slips randomly one by one, typing the poem as I went (although I was a little more intentional with endings).

More fear centos to come! Believe me, you can't wait. I know I can't.


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This is What I Fear
Rachel Javellana and Room 202, Ms. Catinella’s 8th grade class, Lee School


I fear drowning when I can swim but can’t come back up to get air.
I fear being without my family. I would not know what to do without them.
I fear heights that are taller than the sky.
I fear getting Fs in school.
I fear the dark, whose guilty hand tries to pull me in.
I fear clowns.
I fear the world ending.
I fear guns shooting outside.
I fear my world may one day come crashing down.
I fear time: not having any to finish the important things in life.
I fear being hopeless with no sense in living.
I fear I will get shot and die.
I fear the movies when you don’t know what else is going to happen.
I fear that one day I won’t come home; I will be taken away from my family.
I fear people lying on the floor, pale and not breathing.
I fear that in the future I will be nothing or nobody.
I fear never succeeding in anything, not going anywhere in life.
I fear getting sick and not being able to get better.
I am afraid of the time to run away from me.
I fear people dying.
I fear my dad’s huge hand striking my face down.
I fear being outside alone at night.
I fear guns.
I fear the men in the streets in the night.
I fear getting shot because I wear the wrong colors in the wrong ’hoods.
I am afraid of what can happen 50 years from now.
I fear death knocking at the door.
I fear divorces.
I fear dying early.
I am afraid of not getting through the gates, and being sent down.
I fear feeling lonely.
I fear strangers.
I fear losing my dad over something that isn’t even worth it.
I fear the height when you go on a rollercoaster, seeing all the things beneath you.
I fear when people start screaming and fighting.
I fear the room when it’s dark.
I fear funerals.
I fear Fridays the 13th for bad luck.
I fear surgery.
I fear spiders, big and small.
I fear getting into a gang shooting.
I fear small rooms; I fear being in one by myself.
I fear flying squirrels.
I fear losing my mom over something stupid.
I fear the planes that go up in the sky.
I fear Ms. Catinella.
I fear dark alleys.
I fear the darkness of an empty room.
I fear being in small places because I feel like I’m going to pass out.
I fear a lot of homework.
I fear dying when it’s my turn.
I fear the reaper taking my life away.
I fear the world will end and we won’t have enough time, and no way to stop it from
ending.
I fear guns taking a life away.
I am afraid of not seeing the light anymore and going away from my family.
I fear getting into trouble.
I fear heights over eight feet.
I fear height.
I fear people fighting outside.
I fear falling down a building.
I fear talking about my baby.
I fear the world is going to end at any time.
I fear breaking my leg.
I fear living on the streets as a bum.
I fear gangs.
I fear large quantities of water like lakes.
I fear being in danger.
I fear forgetting my favorite people when I go off with my future career.
I fear heights.
I fear dying young.
I fear being kidnapped.
I fear dying too young.
I fear bees.

That is what I fear.

Where I'm From--8th graders

During this session, we read Willie Perdomo's "Where I'm From," from his book Where a Nickel Costs a Dime. We discussed the tools that Perdomo used to portray a picture of his neighborhood, and I asked them to write their own poems about home and neighborhood, making sure to include images from all five senses.

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Mr. Stalla, Rm. 201, 8th grade

West Lawn
Raul G.

Where I’m from street smarts can
be more valuable than book smarts.
I see the scared faces of the troubled teens
afraid to walk down the block. I see
the sneaky dope and drug dealers next
to where the kids play. I see them
smile and laugh as I walk by. Reminds
of when I was a little kid, my only job
was to have fun.

The sun goes down, forks go up
and dig into the delicious meal before
me. The smell of handmade tortillas
on the stove.


56 n Whipple
65 n Kilpatrick
Antonio G.

see dirty lawns
broken-down cars in the yards gangbangers
driving in their customs. I feel scared
because I remember hearing gunshots
at night.

I see nice houses
and trimmed hedges. I see
gangbangers passing in their customs still
I feel nervous every time
I walk out the door.


Untitled
Carina A.

Where I’m from Mexico stays in our
hearts like a newborn memory.
I feel cared for and scared for the
police that don’t sleep.
Hear the ambulance wake you up at night.
Smell the fresh coffee in the morning
and hear the groans of the people who
have to give up their day.

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Ms. Catinella, Rm. 202, 8th grade


Everyone Asks Me (excerpt)
Alejandra S.

Everybody asks me where I’m from.
Who I am?
What am I? What’s my race?
Well, I’m everywhere, park, school.
I always hear fights, see fights.
I’m not American. I’m mixed. People
make fun of that, calling names.
I love my home, but that’s not where
I belong. I would rather be where
many trees are. Where it’s always fall.
My life only has one description: books, or
a book without an end.
The smell of fresh air in front of my house.
I always hear the word gang, everywhere
I go I hear that word.
I always see people making out, with different
ages, and I think it’s disgusting. I always see
pregnant girls my age.
I’m a Latina, that’s all I tell people.
I have many cultures and I’m not in only
one place...


Come and Go
Edith A.

I like the noise of the
kids playing happy outside,
the birds singing.
I like when the sun comes
out and the moon goes in.
I look at the sun and I
feel peace, I see the
moon and it’s time to go
to sleep.
I leave the country and then
I come back.
I like the smell in the
morning of bread and hot
coffee, people have changed
from right to wrong,
peace to noise. Families
to divorce. I come and go
out the country, I come
and go.

###

Mr. Balcazar, Rm. 203, 8th grade

My Life
Jocelin J.

Where I’m from, I see everyone outside
driving, working, playing or fighting, hearing
the laughter of children, the crying of
a mother when losing a special person.

When I try to tell someone where
I’m from, I remember a lot, that I’m
scared to say and might think something
different. I feel my world is not
dangerous, but not safe. My feelings may
get hurt by people ’cause of my personality
but I’m used to it.

When I taste my mom’s
tamales, or arroz con leche, or smell
the bakeries in my world, it makes it
seem so sweet. When it’s not,
people get judged deeply. My world is
cool for me. Do you like my world?
Do you think it’s safe?


Chicago
Samantha G.

Tall building blocking the sun.
Honking horns all over town.
The swishing waves hitting
the sand. The wind that blows
the leaves away.


Where I go!
Andrea S.

Where I go, the ghetto of 77 and
Homan, where all you hear is
music and people talking, from
where you can smell the cooking
of fish in the corner restaurant.
Where I go, the ghetto, where all
you see is graffiti and gangs.
Where you can taste the pancakes
that my aunt makes every day. Where
I go it feels just like home, the
feel of the breeze and the autumn
leaves.

###

Ms. Fenton, Rm. 204, 8th grade

Untitled
Guadalupe A.

Where I am from it is called
the windy city. The sound
of laughter at children’s play.
The smell of arroz con leche
in the kitchen. The sound of
victory in a home run. Silence
of my neighborhood at night.

Where I am from there
is peace. Only noisy when
neighbors nearby playing their
rock band. The variety of
different cultures. As my dad
comes from a hard day from work.
You can see the artificial lights
in the sky.

Where I am from there
are planes flying over my house.
The cats creep silently back
and forth from the alley.


My ’Hood
Richard S.

Where my ’hood’s from is hot and
the smell of flowers is everywhere. I seem my
grandmother watering her flowers and my uncle
feeding the bird and my puppy run, I hear my
friends screaming Hike while they play football
on the street. I taste the eggs and beans
my grandmother cooks. Feel the warmness on my
feet from heat of the sun and the 24s on
my cousin’s truck and the sound of rap music
coming from his giant speakers. That’s my ’hood.


Mexico
Frank M.

Where I am from
I like the nice smell
of burning wood. Where
I am from you see poor
all over the place, kids
without shoes, dogs all over
the place. Where I am from
the taste of tamales is the
best taste you can taste
with a cup of Haredo. Where I am
from there are gangs, violence,
and good candy.

Lee 8th graders--"Nobody Knows..."

Today we read poem III from The Book of Questions by Pablo Neruda. We discussed the idea of objects having a life and secrets of their own, and I asked them to write their own "secret" poems, using the starter "Nobody knows..." imagining that everyday inanimate objects have secrets that only they know.

###

Mr. Stalla, Rm. 201, 8th grade

Sidewalk
Raul G.

Nobody knows the sidewalk has a
mind of its own. It moves to make
you trip and fall. When it’s happy, it
cracks a smile.


Nobody Knows
Carina A.

Nobody knows that clocks
stop ticking at night.

Nobody knows the sun dies
every night.

Nobody knows that a
heart beats inside a tree.

Nobody knows that the
moon talks.


Nobody Knows
Bianca P.

Nobody knows that the
books get so happy when
you open them.

Nobody knows that the
door hurts when you close it.

###

Mr. Balcazar, Rm. 203, 8th grade

Nobody Knows
Stephanie C.

Nobody knows that
plants talk to people
and tell them their secrets.

Nobody knows that
objects move when
everybody is sleeping.

Nobody knows that
animals have their own
treasure.


Nobody Knows
Rosalia Alvarez

Nobody knows that the sun is
still showing in the middle of
the night.

Nobody knows that a teacher
without his class is actually
happy.


Nobody Knows
Christian E.

Nobody knows that the
rose and the daisy have a crush on
each other. The vase wants to hook
them up, but the banana says
that she will break his heart.

###

Ms. Fenton, Rm. 204, 8th grade


Nobody Knows
Karina S.

Nobody knows that the floor is in pain when we leave.

Nobody knows that the tree called your name
to appreciate the nature.

Nobody knows that the lunch ticket is just
staring at us.

Nobody knows that the classroom is scared
in the night.


Nobody Knows
Guadalupe A.

Nobody knows that the
pencils move by themselves and
do homework.

The world beyond a tiny
box which reveals a whole new
world.

Nobody knows where
nature began.

The mystery a book has
about life’s secrets.


Nobody Knows
Monica H.

Nobody knows the secret
of the flower: it grows when you are
staring at it, but you don’t notice it.

Nobody knows that at night
my house comes to life and messes
up my grass; that is the real
reason my grass looks bad.

Nobody knows that there
is a code in the American flag
that opens something somewhere
but you’ll never know.

Nobody knows that with
all this violence in the world
to me it is peace.