Persona, 6th grade

We read "Jorge the Church Janitor Finally Quits" by Martin Espada, and discussed how Espada spoke in the persona of a janitor who has been dehumanized by his work, and has privately made the decision to quit his job. This poem is written in an accessible voice, but is deceptively simple: it is riddled with sophisticated metaphors and poetic language, which the students had no trouble digging out. We then tried our hand at writing persona poems, focusing on adults with jobs.

Mrs. Hernandez, Rm. 109, 6th grade

Mr. Henry
Vanessa A.

No one ever
talks to me,
ever since I
got a new partner.
I must be invisible
like the cold white walls.
No one knows my name
like they've forgotten all
of a sudden.
My friends are
no longer my friends.
I sometimes wonder
why I chose them.
Could this have been
my passion?
Was this my first choice?


Doctor Josue
Adalberto S.

Every day
saying, "Help me."
Studying, never
finishing school.
Disease spreads
more faster
than you finsih
discovering the
cure.
Being the worst
student in class
not smart, not
cool, just me.


My Day
Daisy A.

I was a substitute and now
I'm a teacher.
It's my first day, I carry books,
eat breakfast, and study my
lesson plans.
Many unknown children enter
screaming and shouting like
a zoo where animals are not
controlled.
I say Stop and Stop and they stop.
I was five when my teacher was my
boss, now I'm 30 and I'm the
boss.

Persona, 7th grade

Here are the 7th-graders' responses to "Jorge the Church Janitor Finally Quits" by Martin Espada. I was most impressed by the insight and compassion that they felt, and the humor that many of them employed to portray their various...employees. Andy's poem in particular blew my mind...take a look! So internal, so cerebral! They were amazing, and they had a good time with this one.


Mrs Jamen, Rm. 207, 7th grade

the day
he lost
it
Andy M.

Who is he?
Who am I?
Who are we?
All who say
he I we
will wish they
don’t. I lost it
I lost it. My
boss comes
in Get to work
he, I, we, which one
I ask What
do you mean?
I am 3 people
or more I say
I am he I am
I and we are
we. Well that
makes sense he
says nothing makes
sense anymore


Miguel the Street Cleaner
Charles H.

No one knows
the importance
of my job,
I am the best
street cleaner.
I clean the
streets with the greatest of
ease.
Except when your
car is parked on the street.
Some days I just want
to run over those cars
like a monster truck.
Can’t they read the
sign.
Without me the
streets would be
dirty.
Maybe I should
quit and the
streets will clean
themselves and I
will become a monster truck driver.


Roberto the Paletero
Pamela H.

Another day out of church,
waiting for people to come out.
I have all kinds of flavors:
strawberry, lemon,
mango, coconut, yum!
Oh, finally, the people come out!
My first day on the job.
What fun!
Oh, man, what happened, the police
is here.
They come on their bikes towards me.
“Sir, do you have your license?”
“Umm, no sir, I don’t.”
“I’m afraid I have to give you a
ticket for $50.”
Man, they must think I’m some
poor Mexican.
Like a man on the street.


Vet Put to Sleep
Myriam L.

Day after day
people bring in
their big,
small,
noisy,
quiet,
fat,
skinny,
hairy,
bald
animals,
and every day I
whine,
groan,
sneeze,
cough,
cry,
talk, and…
check animals.
And one day…
I got tired of
big,
small,
noisy,
quiet,
fat,
skinny,
hairy,
bald
animals.
So…
one day,
I put my job to sleep.


Mr. Czoski, Rm. 209, 7th grade


They ask me, what
I did wrong.
I write their name.
Alejandra R.

They ask me, but I
don’t respond.
They should know.
They think I’m the master
but they should go with the law.
My name may be wrong
but I will respond
I will stop you
for a crime
for a death
or whatever is against the law.
My life and my family miss
me but I have to go
against the violence
and crime to save them
and you. It’s my first day.
Let’s get
started
now!


Garbage Man
Jacob L.

No one
knows my
name.
I am from
a foreign
land.
I do
what
no one
does:
I collect
your garbage,
give it to
the land
fill.
No one
says
thank you
so,
you’re
welcome.


Burger King
Michelle A.

How I feel!
Wow, cleaning tables,
taking out trash,
taking your order.
Oh, my God, lady, cheeseburger
without cheese? Lady, you crazy.
Wow, Burger King, let’s quit.


Mrs. Harris, Rm. 210, 7th grade

Unknown Name of Nothingness
Dalia C.

No one knows
my name.
They call me Ms. Applebottom.
It’s like if my name has
no meaning.
For one, I am married,
which changes my name to “Mrs.”
I have nothing to do with
apples or bottoms.
Once I enter the teachers’
lounge, I am
in peace,
not minding what the
principal is gossiping about.
Lunch is over and
my room is filled with mad dogs
and lions that are still waiting
for meat to chew upon.
There is an apple on
my paper-filled desk.
Red and shiny.
That is, Ms. Applebottom’s apple.


Colin the Stockboy
?

Nobody cares.
I am just a
stockboy at Target.
I am not even a
boy, I am 32 years old.
I am just the lonely
stockboy who never gets
asked questions.
I miss my country of Canada
and the hockey.
I think there is a hockey
game from my childhood
in each box.
My boss just yells
about the boxes being on
the wrong shelf.
I don’t even think
they know my name.
But who cares,
I know I am smart
but I just don’t apply
myself. I work so hard as a stockboy.
My life is getting
worse because now
I am fired.


Untitled
Christy Z.

Everybody screams it.
You’ll choke on it.
I press the button and I’m done.
Daddy just bought me a brand new
Benz.
I hate you first.
You’ll see me through the magnetized
lens.
You’ll only see what she said.
Don’t bother word on the block matters
most.
The boy I want won’t climb the higher
branches; he’s scared of falling.
The pictures you see were taken by
black and white mouth.
My film ran out.


Mrs. Bourret, Rm. 208, 7th grade

Not Because of the Color of My Skin
Anissa V.

Should I catch it,
or should I not.
I'm black--
that's the color of my skin--
I'm Latino--
that's who I am.
They expect me to.
Why, I ask?
Oh, because I'm black and supposedly
powerful.
I know I can.
I'll catch it because that's how
good I am,
not because of the color of
my skin.
Out!


Marilyn the Mom with Many Careers
Melissa C.

No one asks me if I'm doing good.
They ask for favors I should do.
No "I love you," just "Mom I
need your help."
I'm a banker who gives out
free money almost each day.
I'm a doctor who doesn't even
have a diagnosis.
I want to fix this mess!
I'm a taxi driver always
going here and there.
The house's darkness is
taking over my body taking
me away to the underworld.

"I Remember", collaboration, 6th grade

I've been wanting to have the kids work collaboratively for a while, but after working individually for so long, I wasn't sure how they would respond. They rose to the challenge admirably. I gave them a time limit and their "I Remember" litanies from before, and they turned out beautiful work.


Mrs. Hernandez, Rm. 109, 6th grade

Our Rememberings
Daisy, Vanessa, Alex, Joey

I remember when the snow
came and it was so icy
cold.
I remember when I started
school.
I remember that I got in
a fight in school.
I remember when I got in
trouble.
I remember my best test
grade.
I remember when I got
out of school.
I remember when I fell
and broke my tooth.
I remember when the waves
were so strong and scary.
I just Remember.


I Remember
Miguel G., Chris R., Miguel A., Cesar L.

I remember my friend when I was one year old.

I remember a dancing monkey in my car.

I remember the drunken fans.

I remember when I was short.

I remember eating 14 sugar cookies in a row.

I remember my weird teacher.

I remember the train ride.

I remember when my parents would
argue while I played with my car.

I remember falling off a horse.


Remembering
Christian H., Miguel C., Andres F.

I remember running around naked
when I was a baby.

I remember getting punished for
running naked.

I remember changing the dirty
diaper.

I remember eating Gerber.

I remember crying, screaming, yelling,
and kicking.

I remember getting ready for my first
day of school.

I remember pulling hair.

I remember when I met Mickey Mouse.

I remember my first detention.

I remember the first few friends
I made.

I remember the first time I burped.

I remember the first time I was scared.

I remember we finished our poem.


I Remember
Paola, Monse, Jailene, Jocelyn, Lizzet

I remember when
my mind was
sent free
creativity flowing
around my find
listening to me
not to someone else
creating something
new no one else could
think of
finding me
self surrounded
by ideas
looking at
them thinking
them twice
I remember
my mind never
getting locked

I remember

I remember when
my mind was sent
free
I remember a hand
popping out of a bird
I remember looking
at a lonely girl
sitting by herself
I remember my
soul being taken
away
I remember my
dreams falling down
I remember my
dreams coming back

"I Remember:" Litany, 6th grade

The writer Joe Brainard created a book-length poem of lines that all start with the phrase "I remember." We read a selection and talked about his use of concrete image and how it conveyed the particular time he grew up in. I asked them to try their own "I remember" poems, writing in a free style, starting each new line with "I remember," and writing without stopping during the time set.


Mrs. Hernandez, Rm. 109, 6th grade

Remember
?

I remember my
Grandpa's voice
and his face,
telling the story of
God, laying there
day by day smiling
and saying hi to
my friends who
come and play.
I wish to see
him again one
more time, hear
his voice and face.
I wish


I Remember
Chris R.

I remember when I started to see dead people.
I remember when my brother got killed.
I remember a house with lights.
I remember a dancing monkey on my car.
I remember a talking book telling me what to do.
I remember getting Fs on my report card.
I remember my teacher talking about aliens.
I remember when my friend broke my back window.
I remember when I saw an elephant driving a motorcycle.
I remember when I got in trouble.
I remember some boy getting kicked in the face by a horse.


I Remember
Yaneliz R.

I remember dancing while people watched me.
I remember walking and a truck hitting me on my side.
I remember running because I was playing ding dong ditch.
I remember two bulldogs in back of me and I was on my bike crashing into a tree.
I remember running around the park with my uncle.
I remember moving into a new house.
I remember coming to my new school and not knowing anyone.
I remember walking to my house and being scared.

"I Remember..." - 7th Grade

We read an excerpt of Joe Brainard's book-length poem, "I Remenber," and interpreted and discussed the memories a bit. We then played a free-association word game, and wrote our own "I Remember" pieces.

###

Mrs. Jamen, Rm. 207, 7th grade

I remember
Andy M.

I remember the taxi falling in the sewer.
I remember monkeys throwing poo.
I remember falling on my head.
I remember hitting the wasps’ nest and running.
I remember a canal of strong water.
I remember the pirated pirates.
I remember oil rigs in Texas.
I remember seeing a crow.
I remember seeing everything.
I remember flying.
I remember being out as late as you can.
I remember endless railroad tracks.
I remember oranges on my head.
I remember clowns dressed as political figures.
I remember Bush being a good President.
I remember the black clouds.
I remember going down a slide.
I remember jumping off stairs.
I remember the girl who fell out the window and died.
I remember all.
I remember hiding in my basement.
I remember carne asada con tocino.
I remember burning my tongue.
I remember masked wrestlers.
I remember the seven deadly sins.
I remember seeing a flash and everything going dark.
I remember lighting a firework through a guy’s window.
I remember going in the pool and coming out on a kids’ toy thing.
I remember circular spirals.
I remember Kunai.
I remember the iphone.
I remember Mad TV.
I remember shopping carts.


I remember
Myriam L.

I remember when I took swimming classes, thinking I would drown.
I remember when my friend ate cardboard.
I remember me and my cousin playing with bugs in Mexico.
I remember when all 12 goldfish committed suicide (no lid).
I remember when I sprayed my sister with steaming hot water.
I remember Max.
I remember my parents arguing.
I remember when my baby monkey (brother) was born.
I remember one day there was a really bad storm, but right after it smelled wonderful.
I remember pushing my sister into the rose bush.
I remember meeting my best friend.
I remember riding with my dad in his new red beauty. My hair rushing in the wind.
I remember getting my hair permed; it was horrible, and cold.
I remember strumming my guitar for the first time.


I remember
Jesus T.

I remember the park I used to go to when I was little.
I remember when my mom got mad because I jumped on the bed with muddy shoes.
I remember when my dad was washing the car and then I bee stung me.
I remember my shoes that played a song and then made me cry.
I remember when If first got beat up in school.
I remember the first time that my mom farted.
I remember the first time I ate ravioli with bread.
I remember when I got two bags full of candy on Halloween.
I remember the first time I had a fight with my friends.
I remember when I first came to this school.



Mr. Czoski, Rm. 209, 7th grade

I remember
Michael S.

I remember the time I first used a computer.
I remember the first time I got a necklace.
I remember the time I started it right.
I remember the first time I wrote a journal.
I remember the first time I wrote a paragraph.
I remember when I had my first girl.
I remember the first time I got into a fight.
I remember that one time I was laughing so hard my face turned red.
I remember the time we worked on the 5 kingdoms.
I remember the first time I got a bracelet.
I remember the time I got in big trouble by the school.
I remember the first time I got my first game system.


I remember
Lilbeth U.

I remember my dad leaving.
I remember my sister being born.
I remember crying myself to sleep.
I remember the pain that my mom went through.
I remember being lost.
I remember candy.
I remember my best friend.
I remember the first place they took me when I was born.
I remember going to 4th grade.
I remember being afraid of clowns.
I remember all the pain I went through.
I remember seeing my brother wake up at night crying over my dad.
I remember how bad people used to treat me.
I remember crying in my room over the things that bullies used to tell me.
I remember the first time my dad gave me a kiss.
I remember the first time my dad cried.
I remember seeing them argue!
I remember trying to forget everything that was going on.
I remember holding my li’l sister.
I remember crying over my grandparents not liking me.
I remember being loved for the first time.
I remember being born.
I remember falling from the tree.
I remember missing my friends.
I remember looking at the full moon.
I remember taking care of my li’l sister for the first time.
I remember trying to hide my feelings with a smile.


I remember
Marco M.

I remember falling, and getting a scar.
I remember being in an airport.
I remember feeling the Force was not with me.
I remember losing my PSP.
I remember how I could never play soccer.
I remember falling and getting up again.
I remember to be the man, you have to beat the man.
I remember being in a car with an alcoholic driving.
I remember wasting my money on nothing.
I remember emergency rooms and my parents crying.
I remember feeling as if it died because of me.
I remember getting Linkin Park tickets.
I remember thinking if money is everything.
I remember when I was little.
I remember the first time I walked in the school.
I remember trying, but not trying harder.
I remember being alone at night, scared.
I remember them thinking I was in a gang.
I remember walking with fear.
I remember feeling stupid.
I remember feeling hate.
I remember hearing my favorite song.
I remember hearing it and being so calm.
I remember not wanting to go away.
I remember how fast life is.
I remember remembering.



Mrs. Harris, Rm. 210, 7th grade

I remember
Daniela M.

I remember strawberries.
I remember eating my best friend’s cake.
I remember when the clouds were blocking the sun so I couldn’t wake up in the morning.
I remember coughing on my pillow.
I remember my basement covered with bubbles.
I remember listening to music while I was doing my homework.
I remember sitting on the roof eating hotchips.
I remember playing cards when it was cold.
I remember watching a movie when it was raining.
I remember getting yelled at by Mrs. Harris to put my legs in.
I remember drinking Sunny D while watching people dance.
I remember falling in front of hector—we laughed for hours.
I remember my mom telling me that my real dad doesn’t want me.
I remember laughing so hard my knees became weak.
I remember having a party in the alley.
I remember talking to my mom about her day.
I remember my dad yelling at my older sister to do her chores.
I remember crying on my birthday because my brother’s blood went on my white flower dress.
I remember drowning in the pool when I was young.
I remember making cake with my little brother.
I remember me crying because my brother left.


I remember
Jose A.

I remember it was winter and I woke up at 7 a.m. and went outside and pretended to smoke.
I remember I was 8 and I was riding my bike then fell but laughed.
I remember getting lost at K-Mart.
I remember I was watching a scary movie and never got to see the beginning.
I remember being little playing soccer in my backyard everyday rain or shine.
I remember breaking my back window and blaming it on my sister.
I remember playing wrestling at home and nearly falling off the bed.
I remember sliding off a slide for the first time.
I remember swinging on a swing for the first time.
I remember going to my first soccer game watching my favorite players from my favorite team.
I remember watching the news on 9/11 when I was young. I was at my aunt’s house in my cousin’s room.
I remember watching my favorite cartoons and recording them and watching them over and over.
I remember the first time my mom put something on the fridge. It was my drawing of me from preschool.


I remember
Dalia C.

I remember sitting on a counselor’s chair without asking.
I remember eating my sister’s big cookie and throwing up at night.
I remember calling my dad two years later and him not picking up.
I remember how my 12th birthday was a disaster.
I remember the day I moved to Chicago. I knew no one.
I remember the first day that I had a MySpace account.
I remember when my best friend Chris finally called me again after so long.
I remember when I first saw my mom cry. She was being deported, but is now a resident.
I remember writing the first line of my “I remember” poem.
I remember when my mom found out. She doesn’t trust me anymore.
I remember when I kept getting detentions for not attending my previous ones.
I remember when my older sister came out of the closet. I didn’t care at all.
I remember when my step dad wanted to kick me and Jasmine out of the house at midnight. It was pouring rain.
I remember the last time I saw my father.



Mrs. Bourret, Rm. 208, 7th grade

I remember
Rafael S.

I remember a cat looking for food.
I remember my grandpa when he went to Mexico.
I remember my dad when he went to New York.
I remember my dog when he ran away.
Remember my sister.
I remember my mother when she was in the hospital.
I remember my brother when he was in the hospital.
I remember my teacher.
I remember my dog.


I remember
Virginia A.

I remember the day in school.
I remember my 13th birthday.
I remember my mom in the pool swimming.
I remember my head in the sun.
I remember I fell asleep in my house.
I remember a flag going to the sky.
I remember the first time I left my father.
I remember the green tree.


I remember
Chris S.

I remember the first time I saw my dad.
I remember the first day of Easter.
I remember the first day of my favorite life.
I remember when I moved to the South Side.
I remember when I made friends.
I remember the first time I came to Lee School.
I remember when I first saw a movie.
I remember the first time I got a new bike.
I remember my aunt had her first pool party.
I remember the first birthday of mine.
I remember my first hockey practice.
I remember my first basketball game.
I remember my first time I saw a basketball.
I remember I saw a basketball game.
I remember my first trip to Orlando, or Magic Kingdom.
I remember my second trip to Puerto Rico.
I remember the first time I made friends with Mrs. Bourret and my teachers.

My Words, 6th grade

In "My Poems" by Nita Penfold, the speaker describes her poems as mischievous women who tell her secrets, who are "not polite ladies." She says, "I like their red-rough hands." This poem provides ready lessons in metaphor, personification, and image, plus it's short! And by this point, I knew that many of the students had begun to identify as poets and nearly all had a large enough body of work that they could speak with some confidence about what their poems are like. Penfold's poem also "wraps" the title into the poem--uses the title as the first line--and I asked them to try that, while writing a piece about what their poems are like (or their words, as an alternative). Their responses were extraordinarily playful; they owned this one.


Mrs. Hernandez, Rm. 109, 6th grade

My Poems
Daisy A.

Heart
My poems touch my heart
with phrases and words
and when the politeness occurs
and the mood and the tone
so much to say but too little
to speak.

My poem says
classmates are cool
who talk and talk
but not too much. Some
who play sports
and some who
draw. They help others
that's why they're so cool.

My poems say
Vanessa is nice
She makes me giggle
and laugh.
When I need help
she helps me. Ooh
Vanessa what would
we do without you.


My Poems
Paola Monse A.

People say to me, "Que pasa contigo"
with happy mouths
I hate it when people tell me that
will still be sad
sad moods on my computer
keep a secret to myself
have to run away from the darkness
go to the light
you always say no to everything I say
but you'll always be in my head to stay


My Poems
Lizzet B.

are like clouds that fade away
they run free
and help me understand.
I forget and they remember.
They are calm and peaceful
but can be mean.
They are mine and only mine.


My Words
Adalberto S.

come to me like a fierce
tordado blowing with
no meaning for life
Will destroy anything
in mind to be concentrated.
They just blow up
burdting out my secret
without reason
So please tornado control
my mind


My Poems
Jacqueline S.

They are like the
clouds going away,
and coming back.
When they come they
go, when they go they
come. Clouds, clouds,
please come back and
stay, you make me
laugh out loud.
Please please come back!


My Poems
Vanessa A.

come to me with a twist
with loud meaning
they are all over my paper
will be silly all around
they run through my paper
like little kids
I like how they sound
they make me so happy
I want to cry
they way they take
words right out of your mouth
can't stop crying
until the night when they are fast asleep

"My Poems" - 7th Grade

After reading Nita Penfold's "My Poem,"--in which she describes her poems as "not polite ladies," who "won't sit still"--we discussed Penfold's method of describing her poems as people with their own will. We also talked about her use of the title as also the first line of the poem. I then asked them to write their own poems, "My Poems," or alternately, "My Words" (which could extend into other areas of language). These entertaining poems resulted; I felt like they were integrating a lot of the various imagery and tools we've experimented with this year.

Mrs. Jamen, Rm. 207, 7th grade

Mi poema
Daniela G.

Yo platico contigo,
por medio de mi poema,
por medio de el yo digo
lo que pienso, y siento,
porque un poema
es más que simples
palabras escritas sobre
una hoja de papel,
es la puerta
por la que salen
todas tus palabras, todos
tus sentimientos
un poema es como
tu alma, como tu corazón
y lo abres a todas
aquellas personas
que lo quieren ver,
y tus sentimientos
quieren saber.


My Poems
Paola S.

come to other people hard
bringing out “her,”
envious, competitive, calm
emotions that want to unravel
and I can’t control,
they want to come out
and let the world know
but I won’t let “her,”
trying to look flawless,
so she unravels herself
in the lines of paper,
while I crumbple it up
throw it in the garbage,
butr soon she’ll come back
and won’t rest
until she lets my soul free.


My Words
Sergio S.

come to me from vast, fast-thinking
mind. Like wild berries they
have to be carefully picked out.
They come with great forces
almost like a tsunami.
They move at the speed
of sound, from my mind to
my mouth
like a tornado when they
are released, they can’t be
stopped.
They won’t stop until
I’m gone.
Like assassins they can
kill…


Mr. Czoski, Rm. 209, 7th grade

My Poems
Louis B.

hold me down
their hands clench my legs
they go to stores here and there
will they stop?
when they’re 50?
when, when, when!!
they won’t let me free
I struggle and struggle
let me freeee!!
I’m screaming at the top of my lungs
they’re making me crazy


My Poems
Jesus J.

They’re mean sometimes about hatred
my soul will tell you anything
I need it out of me
because it’s mean
get away from
me I need
to write
it out
they
won’t let
me sleep ’til
I write it out
help me somebody
help my soul won’t
let me sleep finally
it’s out of me now I can
go to sleep and have a
good day in school tomorrow
’til the next time I’m mean and
hate I now know to let them out


My Poems
Mario M.

come faster to me than a train
I’m not looking for fame
trying to get myself a name
my poems aren’t the same
what am I trying to aim
trying to light my flame


Mrs. Harris, Rm. 210, 7th grade

My Words
Christy Z.

slip like water through a roofless
roof.
Break a bone or seven, they’re
hot as ice.
Why don’t you ever sew it shut?
Always getting lost, having trouble
finding their way back.
Wanting to know what he thinks,
zip! zaaap!
Burning through water, don’t
give me the chance.
Here to take your hopes,
sweet as sugar, huh?
Torn apart and torn against.
Waiting until I’m deaf, blind, and
numb.


My poems
Alexis R.

are worthless like a monster
in a tree. My poems are wordless slike
a star in the sea. My words are
shattered like a bomb. My words were
scattered far away too long. My poems
are ridiculous like a cat who ate too
much and that is that. My words
fly in the air like a bird.
My poems cry all the way to third.
My words ran that awful race and now
it may be late. My poems are sick,
they need a doctor, they’ll never make
it to somber.


My Words
Elizabeth M.

sometimes don’t mean anything at all.
All people use words,
just not the way I do.
Huh, I feel like the greenest
person in this class.
Nobody understands me.
Well, one person does.
My words get taken the
wrong way most of the time
just like when an itty-bitty
seed was taken in the
wrong direction by the wind
Jeez, I wish it was still summer.
Everyone loved me.

My words,
are they useless to you?


My Poems
Joshua R.

They stare at me
They laugh at me
but they cry for me
They bite me, chew me, and spit me out
but they will always be there for me


Poetry, My Words
Anissa V.

My Words
mean nothing,
trying and hoping for the day
they’ll be heard,
sometimes mean and horrible,
or sweet and thoughtful.
I searched everywhere
for someone to promise me
they’ll listen,
don’t like ugly words,
it’s not on purpose.
Sometimes something else puts words in my
mouth,
I’m sorry for that.
My words aren’t perfect,
but maybe they will be if
someone actually heard them.
They might be.


My Words…
Mayra S.

are like ocean waves
with peaceful sounds
come with laughing people
are free ’til the sunsets
become birds chirping tin the sunrise
are listened
can feel what I feel
gentle as a puppy
see what I see
know what I know

My Heart--7th grade

This sizable posting contains poems inspired by "Little Clown, My Heart" by Sandra Cisneros.

###

Changing Stone
Andy M.

Sometimes my heart’s as smooth
as a stone with a waterfall
running aside it, accepting,
calm and peaceful. Sometimes it’s a
jagged rock at the edge
of a cliff, can’t hold anything,
angry, alone, and depressed, unaccepting.


Untitled
Daniel S.

Happy and sorrow
are in my heart.

These are the emotions
that can never drift
apart.

Not even death, hate,
nor anger can hurt the
emotions.


My Heart
Pamela H.

Blue sky, my heart,
beautiful as can be.
Birds gazing through it,
and clouds flowing too.
It’s happy but sometimes
raining, blue sky, my
heart will always be.


Mariposa de colores, mi corazón
Daniela G.

Mariposa de colores, mi corazón,
la es y la será siempre,
ella está conmigo,
siempre la está,
ella es mi amiga
la que me ayuda
y ríe siempre junto a mí.

Ella puede volar
y yo junto a ella
aunque no tengo alas,
pero en mi mente y corazón
sí las ahí.

Mariposa de colores alegres
que ilumina todo mi ser,
y todo mi corazón,
sin ella yo no puedo vivir
porque ella toda mi vida es.


Plastic Tree, My Heart
Sergio S.

Plastic tree, my heart,
doesn’t know if it’s real or fake.
Like a ghost it poses me to
do things I don’t want to.
My plastic tree of a heart
prevents me from real emotions.

Fake smile, my heart.
Just like a fake smile my heart
deceives people.
My fake smile is not to be
trusted.
My plastic tree heart
has no real emotions.


My Heart
Erik V.

My heart beats again and
again when I’m lost in a
stranded place, no water, no
food, except the cold breeze.


Untitled
Braulio R.

My heart, so full of hatred,
burns hot like there’s no tomorrow.
So full of rage
it might just explode.


It’s inside me, my heart
Jesus T.

Whenever I’m nervous or
lie my heart pulses
faster and faster.

Whenever I speak
in front of a class I
get nervous and I
feel my heart wants
to get out.

I love my heart.
It keeps me alive
and sometimes tired.
I love my heart.


My Heart Broken
Kimberly U.

You knew that
my heart wasn’t
in stores.
There are some traps
that life always
has. Why did you take
my heart? You are
not the right person
for me. You didn’t know
how to love me.
And you missed your
chance. Now I
have to keep moving.
Life keeps on
and I am not letting a
boy hurt me again,
now the only
two words I
am saying: Good
bye!


My Heart
Myriam L.

Hopeless apparatus, my heart,
different confusing feelings,
twisted and turned inside.

I suspect it is easily broken,
but of course, I wouldn’t know,
my heart hasn’t belonged to anyone before.

I wish I could feel,
but my heart is empty,
filled with air and webs.


My Heart
Ever B.

My heart, why all that
suffering? Why did my
uncle have to die?


Emotions
Paola S.

Paper, my heart,
easy to rip,
smooth and nice,
but be careful:
it cuts too.

Hard as a rock,
doesn’t let no one get through,
always being stomped on,
it hurts too,
hardly ever picked up.

Gentle as a puppy
crying out for help,
like an actor
sometimes acting,
scared,
like a little kid about roller coasters,
scared,
for love and trust.

###

Mr. Czoski, Rm. 209, 7th grade

Awesome Soccer, My Heart
Edgar

Awesome soccer, my heart
I live for soccer
I breathe soccer
I sleep soccer
I eat soccer
I bleed soccer
I dream soccer
Without soccer my world wouldn’t be the same
If I don’t play my hardest I am ashamed
I want to be in the hall of fame
It could happen if you let me play my game
It’s like a drug to me
I’m addicted to it
I’m in it to win it


My Heart
Shawn P.

Dark and empty, that’s what
my heart is, that’s what it’ll
always be. That’s just what
people can’t seem to see about
me. They say I’m mean, they
say I show no compassion
for anything, they all say the
same thing, but they just don’t
know me, the real me, but sometimes
I don’t know the real me.
I can’t believe, I couldn’t see
what was happening to me.


Flipping Jelly Bean, My Heart
?

The flipping jelly bean, my heart.
It bounces and hops, hop,
hop, hop, so confused, don’t know
what to do.

Turning doing flips then
stops, the sign of death—no—
it’s the sign of being heart-
broken sitting not moving
at all.

The flipping jelly bean starts hopping
again so high it feels like
it could fly, it must be
love.

No one will ever understand
why the flipping jelly bean
does these things, like I will
never understand why my
heart feels like this.


Blue Notebook, My Heart
Alejandra R.

Blue notebook, my heart
coming to me with a key.
Holding to me and saying, “Write
to me.

It sees me crying day
through night. Telling me,
“Let go of it and write.”
It’s a diary, it
tells me, “Write in me.”

###

Mrs. Harris, Rm. 210, 7th grade

heavy backpack, my heart
Dalia C.

Heavy backpack, my heart,
carried around with so much work.
Taken advantage and thrown on the dirt.
Torn on the inside and out,
no one can hear it shout.

Heavy sorrows and no help,
always thinking the same thought:
How can I make it all stop?
It cannot move or walk,
but to itself, it talks.


lala
Daniela M.

Smal little girl, my heart
Cheery, happy, torn
Stands tall, doesn’t look down
Her arms open waiting for…
Someone

No one bothers, she’s left alone
Her dignity is gone
Her addiction is him
The sweet apple rots

The hills are too high
The sun is shining bright
She gives up on life
In front of her eyes
everything dies


Maze
Esmeralda G.

Maze, my heart.
Needles…dark my heart
Rainbow, candy, my heart…
Berlin…fire, my heart
Red fruit punch…my heart…

White-’n-blue stars
Cancun waves…mí
corazón…

Paper, plastic, pencil…
Bratz, Barbie dolls…
My red and pink heart!

Sitting down holding
hands in front of the
screen…
My bloody heart!


Untitled
Angelica U.

Little girl, my heart
turned around and upside-down
beautiful butterflies in my stomach
turning and spinning
out of control

Light feather, my arms
spinning out of space
bears growling inside of my heart
but nothing comes out but a whisper

Loud music in my ears
but nothing is seen
just heard with sense
peace and quiet is what I’ve become

###

Mrs. Bourret, Rm. 208, 7th grade

Crystal-Shining Star, My Heart
Karina A.

Playing games with me, wherever I go,
calling my name and telling me to go for it,
but I say, “No, this is not me.”
My heart pounding, every time I need to
breathe.


Little Boy
Gerardo I.

Little boy, my heart, I
miss you and I want
you back. I need you,
little boy. I miss you
so much. Will you come
back?


Fearless Moon, My Heart
Mayra S.

Fearless moon, my heart
I’m here, I’m there, I’m everywhere
spicy like hot sauce
feeling better than ever

I feel like the moon shining all day
swaying with the ocean
monkey jumping around

laughing like an elephant
dreaming a dream no one understands


Big Volcano, My Heart
Jonathan N.

Big volcano, my heart,
hot and almost about to erupt,
people running and screaming
rocks shooting out like
baseballs traveling at 70 mph.

Soon I will erupt into anger,
I’m trying to keep cool,
It’s like a countdown from 5
all the way to 1,
I’m trying to keep cool.

The lava is running down the side of the mountain
like tears coming from a face,
I can’t hold it,
I’m going to explode,
I’m trying to keep cool.


I Hear
Eric W.

I hear I hear something pounding inside
of me it’s pounding like a basketball
hitting the floor I’m holding my
chest it’s pounding it’s pounding I can’t see
my breath in this cold weather
I’m falling to the ground I’m blind
I can’t hear I can’t see what’s
wrong with me it’s my heart
it’s pounding


Tiny Star, My Heart
Ariel C.

Tiny star, my heart,
pounding again so hard.
It’s like frozen stars
standing so lonely.

My Heart - 6th

Sandra Cisneros' "Little Clown, My Heart" was the inspiration for this batch of poems.



Mrs. Hernandez, Rm. 109, 6th grade

Funny Monkey
Jocelyn R.

Funny monkey, my heart,
cute and furry with lipstick on.
Juggles and tells jokes at the
same time.
He hops he runs but most of all
he just walks.


Little Hands, a Mom’s Heart
Destiny M.

Little hands, as they meet
She hugs her little one
and plays with her feet
She giggles, she laughs
Little hands, little hearts


Music
Yaneliz R.

loud music, my heart
spinning and dancing
falling and practice
and making a mess


Little Monster, My Heart
Vanessa A.

Little monster, my heart,
hiding in closets and under the beds,
scaring away little kids,
wants to play but everyone’s afraid, like
a tornado just hit the earth.

Little hairy feet walking
into a dark room.
He’s so scared and no one’s there,
happiness is gone,
all there is is emptiness.


My Heart
Daisy A.

loud fireworks, my heart,
with the boom and the pump.
With the happiness outside and inside
filling and willing to do what I want.
Little heart little heart as you
hear the loud fireworks I sigh.
Hurry, hurry heart, fill me with
love like fireworks fill the sky.


My Lonely Heart
Daisy A.

Lonely me, my heart.
I sleep while you are trying to talk.
I wake up, you’re asleep, I try
to talk to you but you don’t
hear. We both can’t talk, you
take care of me, I take care
of you. At least we’re together.

"My Heart" - 8th Grade

"Little Clown, My Heart" by Sandra Cisneros was the inspiration for the following poems. We first began, however, by brainstorming words that we associate with the heart. Many common associations came up: love, red, family, blood, etc. I then sprang a twist on them: they had to write a poem "(adjective noun), my heart..." but were not allowed to use the words we had brainstormed on the board. Oh, the groans! But fascinating and inventive poems resulted.

###

Mr. Stalla, Rm. 201, 8th grade

The Story Inside
Monica C.

My heart, predictable,
is a hurtful book,
it cares not who opens it,
but who looks through it.

The fool in my mind
takes leaps from far too high.
The risks there are
don’t matter.

Small and fragile like a baby,
hidden underneath the warm blanket,
not knowing the truths from the outside,
but knowing enough.


Daring Corazón
Carina A.

My heart,
filled with emotions,
searching,
solving.
My daring, loving corazón,
playing laughing,
place of heartaches,
my heart
one in a million,
happy, laughing
me.


Emotion Machine
Kevin C.

emotion machine emotion machine
beating like a drum
not knowing hwat would happen next.

emotion machine emotion machine
gets bigger and bigger when I laugh
tickles my insides, then I smile.

emotion machine, emotion machine
sinking, sinking when sad.


Something
Ismael A.

my heart is strong and sometimes brave
a heart is red and is full of life
and scared and fronted some things
goes faster and faster

comes many sizes big or small
it is sealed on a protected shield


Tough
Raul G.

Fighter, my heart
never stays down
through the ups and downs
on a rollercoaster ride
always gets up.

It is an icebox
melted by her smile
never to be frozen again
never to be forgotten.

A believer of what’s true
a dreamer of what’s next
and a wisher of what hasn’t happened.
Even after death, it will never die.

My Heart, My Eyes
Jacqueline L.

My heart, it is my eyes,
they observe all that is around me,
they take me and I follow,
never can they be deceived or fooled.

Showing me all that I can’t,
they need no glasses,
they can’t see the sorrow.

My heart, it is my eyes,
so sharp and pointy,
it is my most prized possession,
I am so addicted,
they are needed,
’til the day that they go blind.



Ms. Catinella, Rm. 202, 8th grade

Wandering Heart
Oscar V.

My heart is lost on an open road
Straightening and curving
Stopping and going like
A passenger bus on a city street

Shining stars on a black sky
Twinkling and burning a magic glow


Music, My Heart
Joe F.

music, my heart
fills me with emotions
which I can’t control
fills me with joy
and new meanings


My Heart, Moving like a Maniac
Alberto M.

Vibrating, my heart
sounds like a phone on vibrate
watching a scary movie in theaters
playing a sport for a long time
moving up and down like
a person on a trampoline.


Storm
Alejandra S.

My heart is in the middle of a storm,
Is like it has longs that fill with water,
Pushing it to my eyes like a salty ocean,
Turning black-red like it’s bruised with
blood.

Cut in half like meat,
So dark, so lonely, so sad,
Hot water inside me burning me so much.
God help.


The Unique Heart
Maria L.

The unique heart
dives in the pond of fishes
inside a lonely forest.
It opens up like a rose in its
early days.

Pinches when it’s touched
but cries like a child for a toy.

My Heart like a Warrior
Eric C.

My heart like a warrior
staggering and limping
like a soldier coming
back from war
and looking forward to
that big home meal.
It doesn’t know when
to give up on it
and it’s hoping for that big
home meal from her.


What is My Heart?
Francisco M.

A pond full of cranberry
juice. A bag full of
roses. A home made out
of red bricks.



Mr. Balcazar, Rm. 203, 8th grade

Rainbow Fairy, My Heart
Rosalina A.

Rainbow fairy, my heart,
dancing around and making wishes
come true,
like a little kid never wanting
to grow up,
pink, purple, yellow, red, colorful like a clown,
loves to say “DUDE” like a surfer dude,
the center of attention.

Tip-toed like a dancer,
soars in the sky like a bird,
funky and fabulous,
full of joy and wonder,
the queen inside of me.


The Heart
Leonardo M.

The heart is the organ that we need,
hear it clearly, it’s the sound of the beat.
It’s red, it’s like heat,
without organs like this it’s the least,
with no heart there’s no love.


My Heart Is
Andrea S.

My heart is
a little box of emotion,
full of life and happiness,
jumping up and down and side to side,
a beautiful thing that makes me survive.

My heart is an afternoon at the beach,
sunset sand and water,
a rich chocolate full of caramel,
strong and hard.

My heart is

a rich red liquid
dripping from inside,
a fire getting stronger
and stronger,
it’s my life.

The Villanelle a la 8th grade

Here are some more villanelles, and villanelles-in-progress, this time from the 8th graders.

I shared a second handout with them that included a villanelle by David Trinidad ("Chatty Cathy Villanelle"), and one I wrote called "Ways and Means." I wanted them to see as many examples as possible of different ways to approach this form, and different expressions that it can take.

Some of the students didn't finish all the way, but I had to admit to them that it took me longer than two 40-minute sessions to write my own villanelle. It's a difficult form, but many students gave a strong go. I included the following poems either because they showed some mastery of the villanelle form, or because they did something inventive and interesting with what they were given, such as the fragments I've included that are so compelling to read that I want the students to finish them, if only so I can read the end! I was also excited to see how students incorporated new vocabulary that they picked up from the rhyming dictionaries.

###

Mr. Stalla, Rm. 201, 8th grade

Stay Up
Raul G.

Don’t let them keep you down.
Don’t give in to the struggle.
Watch them or they’ll let you down.

Let no one take your crown.
Keep them down, ’til their blood makes a puddle.
Don’t let them keep you down.

These are all your people; your town
loyal to you, oh so humble.
Watch them or they’ll let you down.

Without a care they make you frown.
I see potential, yet they all stumble.
Don’t let them keep you down.

I see talent that can astound
but under pressure, dreams crumble.
Watch them or they’ll let you down.

You hear the roaring of the crowd.
Wipe the blood off your knuckle.
Don’t let them keep you down.
Watch them or they’ll let you down.


Villanelle
Jessica G.

When you grow up, what will you be?
If you work hard, you could succeed.
Please do something that you will achieve.

Maybe an astronaut if you believe,
so go on and proceed.
When you grow up, what will you be?

So keep looking and you will receive.
So go out and look and do your deed.
Please do something that you will achieve.

Go out and retrieve.
Don’t worry, you won’t bleed.
When you grow up, what will you be?

Please do something that you will achieve.


Villanelle
Jacky L.

In a dream I see many things,
a big purple crocodile.
I lay my head on a pillow in the evenings.

I love the joy it brings,
an orange monkey with a smile.
In a dream I see many things.

Waking up would be death-defying.
I see a squirrel that’s very hostile.
I lay my head on a pillow in the evenings.

I watch a green lady cross the Nile.
In a dream I see many things.

An old man who’s very old-style.
I lay my head on a pillow in the evenings.

A cool-looking hippo by the name of Kyle.
In a dream I see many things.
I lay my head on a pillow in the evenings.

###

Ms. Catinella, Rm. 202, 8th grade

Arms Race
Samantha N.

All they hear is the bass.
They’re dressed to kill
because this is just the arms race.

These kids are the change of pace.
They’re not going to stand still.
All they hear is the bass.

They listen to the best, and say, “Rad, dollface.”
Their headphones are loud, and they thrill
because this is just the arms race.

They don’t care about the political race.
You won’t do it, but these kids will.
All they hear is the bass.

They’ll confront each other face to face.
These kids know how to chill
because this is just the arms race.

They’re not going to keep a straight face.
These just won’t be still.
All they hear is the bass
because this is just the arms race.


Villanelle
Alberto M.

Winter go away; you cause us misery and sadness.
Snow is powerful when they unite.
Trapped by snow, nowhere to go, it’s loneliness.

Kids throwing snowballs at cars.
Some people are afraid during a snowing night.
Winter go away, you cause us misery and sadness.

Men staying at bars.
Kids throwing snowballs with all their might.
Trapped by snow, nowhere to go, it’s loneliness.

The sky filled with stars,
kids inside of their homes drinking Sprite.
Winter go away, you cause us misery and sadness.

Traveling to countries is far.
Kids outside using their flashlight.
Trapped by snow, nowhere to go, it’s loneliness.

Others playing the guitar.
Miles of snow seen only by eyesight.
Winter go away, you cause us misery and sadness
trapped by snow, nowhere to go, it’s loneliness.


Life?!
Alejandra S.

I fill my lungs of air and shout!
The sun shining on my eyes.
I can see half of the world from here.

Ocean is when the world starts turning blue,
while inside a room a boy dies.
I fill my lungs of air and shout!

Does anyone have a clue?
Looking at all the flies
I feel a big cheer.

Feel like everything’s true.
Air lets the clothes dry,
I fill my lungs of air and shout!

All the people really grew
where a little rabbit lies.
Talk to animals, they can hear

even though they only chew
like winning a big prize.
I fill my lungs of air and shout!
I can see half of the world from here.


Some with Need
Angela B.

Someone needing help through rough times to help fight,
struggling, and putting the effort all in.
Keep trying, keep trying, don’t give up, try your hardest, even through the night.

Their life is erupting like dynamite
never knowing what to do, always clandestine.
Someone needing help through rough times to help fight.

Always trying to do everything right
hoping that no one will break in.
Keep trying, keep trying, don’t give up, try your hardest, even through the night.

Not being in the spotlight,
not wanting to live in sin.
Someone needing help through rough times to help fight.

Fighting through life like a dogfight,
wanting someone there through thick and thin.
Keep trying, keep trying, don’t give up, try your hardest, even through the night.

Waiting for life to ignite.
When something happens, saying, “Take it on the chin.”
Someone needing help through rough times to help fight.
Keep trying, keep trying, don’t give up, try your hardest, even through the night.

###

Mr. Balcazar, Rm. 203, 8th grade

Villanelle
Amairany L.

Get in the car
my dad said
as he came from the bar

I was sad
and just bowed my head, as I
got in the car


Villanelle
Andrea S.

It’s time for you to leave me alone.
The day is almost over.
I need to go home.

Your voice is driving me crazy.
She thinks it’s all about her,
leave me alone.

All you do is sit around and be lazy,
leave and move moreover.
I got to go home.

Leave and go with Daisy,
go eat a burger.
Leave me alone.

I want to turn eighty.
You need a haircut with the barber.
I need to go home.

Go and have fun with Healy,
leave me alone you burger.
Please leave me alone,
because I need to go home.


Villanelle
Anthony W.

Take the day into the night.
The fight was not today,
the storm will not turn gray unless you see the beam of light.

Give God thanks for all that’s light.
Because he shined me with his light, he spared me for the day.
Take the day into the night

because the storm was turning bright.
The storm has gone away.
The storm will not turn gray unless you see the beam of light.

The storm has come to play because the sky has not been bright.
We cannot fight the storm’s gray sight, we will dread with great pain.
Take the day into the night.

###

Ms. Fenton, Rm. 204, 8th grade

Dream
Karina S.

I feel like I am going to sink.
I want to go to sleep.
My sister is happy and gives a wink.

I am thirsty and I want a drink.
I saw someone who gives me the creeps.
I feel like I am going to sink.

I am working and the dog looks and me and blinks.
I see something that I want to keep.
My sister is happy and gives me a wink.

My brain hurts and I don’t want to think.
The car behind gives me a beep.
I feel like I am going to sink.

I feel so pink.
I am in Africa in a big Jeep.
My sister is happy and gives me a wink.

I am so scared I want to shrink.
I fell somewhere deep.
I feel like I am going to sink.
My sister is happy and gives me a wink.


Villanelle
Mary B.

You will get through, just be strong.
Try your best, it will be hard
but you will succeed, and be proud.

Follow the right, don’t do what’s wrong.
But remember, you don’t have a bodyguard.
You will get through, just be strong.

It may be cool, but don’t stand in the crowd.
If it’s too hard, make yourself a card
but you will succeed, and be proud.

It will take time, and it may be long.
Go to 600 N. Boulevard.
You will get through, just be strong.

Don’t feel bad that you might not belong.
Keep this well: your self-regard
but you will succeed and be strong.

Behave, succeed, be strong, before long
you will remember, but keep a memoir
but you will succeed, and be strong.
You will get through, just be strong.


Villanelle
Tania A.

The light in the dust is dead.
It grows as days go by.
The rainbow’s color is shed.

The dark comes, I go to bed.
The light goes in the green bay.
The light in the dust is dead.

It is bigger than my head.
It’s aging in the day.
The rainbow’s color is shed.

The cloud is scattered
and I’ll be in my way.
The light in the dust is dead.

Villanelle, 7th grade

Here is a sample of our final product from the villanelle series of lessons. Some of the poems below fit into the villanelle format, others are unfinished villanelles, and still others are a different form employing certain elements of villanelle (rhyme patterns and repetition). I really felt like they took ownership of this one, and I'm very happy with the results.

###

Shut Up!
Genina T.

Shut up, listen, listen to me.
He is so mad.
Shut up, I mean, I’m so sorry.

Can I please explain?
He is so sad.
Shut up, listen, listen to me.

I’m in so much pain,
so much sadness.
Shut up, I mean, I’m so sorry.

He is in more pain! Pain, pain, pain,
so much madness.
Shut up, listen, listen to me.

You don’t get it, I’m trying to explain.
No more flatterness.
Shut up, I mean, I’m so sorry.

I tried to explain.
No more loveness.
Shut up, listen, listen to me.
Shut up, I mean, I’m so sorry.


Villanelle
Charles H.

Ding dong, ding dong, won’t you come in
Don’t stand there
Come in, come in

Wipe off that grin
Won’t you come in
Ding dong, ding dong, won’t you come in

Come in, filled with adrenaline
You look so grim
Come in, come in

Take off your moccasins
You can play your violin
Ding dong, ding dong, won’t you come in

We’ll sing a song
Let’s begin
Come in, come in

I have some gelatin
Let’s eat onion skins
Ding dong, ding dong, won’t you come in,
come in, come in


Villanelle
Beatrice R.

Everything scares me in the dark blue sky.
A man dragging his feet on the creaky wooden floor.
Now there’s a good reason why I cry.

This is so strange. Why do I hear children play?
The little ghosts don’t look rich, they look poor.
Everything scares me in the dark blue sky.

I hear people up the stairs but in the day.
A boxer wanting to be stronger by punching my wall more and more.
Now there’s a good reason why I cry.


Villanelle
Myriam L.

I am one and you are too
just sitting thinking about nothing at all.
What will we do?

Staring at the sky, looking at the trees,
that’s all you can do in the fall.
I am one and you are too.

We see little kids playing with glee
and us talking about anything at all.
What will we do?

We watch little ants flee and flee.
We hear our friends call and call.
I am one and you are too.

We just want to sleep.
I hate the fall.
What will we do?

It’s so boring I want to weep.
I am one and you are too.
What will we do?


Villanelle
Braulio R.

It is the world’s darkest hour.
The ghosts are so hypnotic.
We have no more flour.

The world even has no flowers.
The horror is so exotic.
The meat is stale and sour.

People are filled with sorrow.
We are not excited.
The world will end tomorrow.

###

Mrs. Bourret, Rm. 208, 7th grade

Go Skate
Abraham G.

Go skate in that beautiful summer again and again.
Babies should grave a board and learn life.
Anger, anger, try again.

Through wise kids and adults
skating is life and that’s a fact.
Go skate in that beautiful summer.

Good men don’t quit.
The rail needs a grinder.
Anger, Anger, try again.

Wild dudes who are masters
think skateboard is God.
Go skate in the beautiful summer again.


Villanelle
Martin F.

Siblings, please don’t cry.
Let’s have fun and play.
I am here to try.

Try to catch that firefly.
Let’s have a very good day.
Siblings, please do not cry.

My eyes are very dry.
I will listen to whatever you have to say.
I am here to try.

Do you guys want to fly?
We could play with the colorful clay.
Siblings, please do not cry.

All of you are very sly.
Let’s play with an imaginary death ray.
I am here to try.

It’s time to say bye.
You deserve the pay.
Siblings, please do not cry.
I am here to try.


Villanelle
Jonathan N.

Don’t speak, don’t squeak, don’t even laugh.
This castle is so evil.
My leg hurts, I think it’s my calf.

I didn’t want to be there,
the castle is medieval.
Don’t speak, don’t squeak, don’t even laugh.

I was scared of a hair.
I wanted to shrivel.
My leg hurts, I think it’s my calf.

I didn’t follow the trail.
I tried for retrieval.
Don’t speak, don’t squeak, don’t even laugh.

I didn’t take care.
The vase was primeval.
My leg hurts, I think it’s my calf.

My face was a mirror
I wanted to dishevel.
Don’t speak, don’t squeak, don’t even laugh.
My leg hurts, I think it’s my calf.

###

Mr. Czoski, Rm. 209, 7th grade

Guitar Hero
Jesus J.

When I play Guitar Hero
I am very quick
’til I lost and got zero

I’m not a superhero
I get very ticked
when I play Guitar Hero

I’m subzero
I like to kick
’til I lost and got zero

I’m an anti-hero
I am very slick
when I play Guitar Hero

I’m a fearo
I get very ticked
’til I lost and got zero

I’m subzero
I am very quick
when I play Guitar Hero
’til I lost and got zero


To Lose
Kevin Z.

Have you ever felt to lose
It feels just like an ambush
Our streak has gone way past the deuce

Instead of a sitting duck I’m a sitting goose
The enemies’ basket as I stare all I hear is swoosh
Have you ever felt to lose

My anger, my anger, when I look at the final score, we lose by deuce deuce
We could’ve won if my boys never smoked that cush
Our streak has gone way past the deuce

Our enemies are riding victory like a caboose
Every time I play my teammates are so confused
Have you ever felt to lose

As I say again, I’m a sitting goose
I can’t stand it, I’m going through a violent rush
Our streak has gone way past the deuce

My anger, my anger, when I look at the final score: we lose by deuce deuce
I can’t stand it, I’m going through a violent rush
Have you ever felt to lose
Our streak has gone way past the deuce


Villanelle
Alejandra R.

Shading into the woods that are fading
leaving not saying a word to our fame
not knowing what to say when I am failing.

Come on, say something, don’t leave us here waiting,
shading into the woods that are fading.

Don’t, please don’t, it’s not time to fade,
not knowing what to say when I am falling.

Remember the time we used to overtrade,
shading into the woods that are fading?

When we share our things we’re missing everyday,
not knowing what to say when I am failing.

Shading into the woods that are fading,
not knowing what to say when I am failing.


Villanelle
Edgar R.

The world is a battleground of massacre.
It don’t matter what color UR, they’re all out 2 get us.
As we hear the gunshots the world gets blacker, blacker.

All the pain will go away if we believe in her.
There’s no survivors, they hated us before they even met us.
There is more violence than ever, that’s for sure.

As we hear the gunshots, the world gets blacker, blacker.
I don’t know why they make all the fuss.
I wish we could switch good n bad like it was a transfer.

When people die our hearts beat faster and faster
’cuz he didn’t wanna die they called him a wuss.
There is more violence than ever, that’s for sure.

Now the world is a blur.
They would say, Come on, little boy, don’t be a wuss.
I wish we could switch good n bad like it was a transfer.

Don’t U just wanna knock out that fake reporter?
There’s a person who killed my boy named Gus.
There is more violence than ever, that’s for sure.
I wish we could switch good n bad like it was a transfer.

###

Mrs. Harris, Rm. 210, 7th grade

Peace means gun in ghetto
John A.

I feel like I got no one left.
I had an illusion then
I was full of confusion
Give me a peace.
Then we saw the police.
I had honor but I knew I was a goner.
I was a fool, I wasn’t cool,
I was cruel.

I had an illusion then I was
full of confusion.
I feel like I got no one left.
Give me what I want, the peace
then I saw the police.

I had honor but I knew
I was a goner.

I was a fool, I wasn’t
cool, I was cruel.


Unintentional Intentions
Christy Z.

I knew about your electrolyte.
But you’re so naïve, I’m too tired to try.
Naïve drags me across the room, here we are for another late night.

The conversation oh so skin deep.
But you’re so naïve, I’m too tired to try.
I knew about your electrolyte.

You wouldn’t understand with those tear-stained cheek.
But you’re so naïve, I’m too tired to try.
Naïve drags me across the room, here we are for another late night.

I’ll play with you like a deck of cards.
But you’re so naïve, I’ll win my first try.
I knew about your electrolyte.

You’re deaf, you’re blind, and you’re dumb.
But you’re so naïve, I’m too tired to try.
Naïve drags me across the floor, here we are for another late night.

You fooled me like a magician, sly and sweet.
But you’re so naïve, I tried and tried.
I knew about your electrolyte.
Naïve drags me across the room, here we are for another late night.


My Coach
Nick C.

He makes me feel like it is my fault
He releases his anger on me
but he is also my dad

He works hard to make me better
He tries to make me see
He makes me feel like it is my fault

Every time it is my fault
he yells and yells but the tells me the key
but he is also my dad

Why does he keep repeating what he has said before
He sometimes treats me like I’m three
He makes me feel like it is my fault

Why oh why does he push me so much
He is my coach with the black goatee
but he is also my dad

After he pushes me and pushes me, I am better
He is the best coach to me
He makes me feel like it is my fault
but he is my dad.

Villanelle Mania (8th grade)

Here is one first draft from the 8th graders and turned out quite well. I am very impressed with how Vanessa made use of the repetition in her poem, literally noises heard over and over again in the street.

Today the 8th graders began their villanelles, and next week we'll finish them up, so watch for more to be posted then. I know I can't wait.

###

Villanelle
Vanessa D.

Boom, boom, shooting in the street.
Different gang, different blocks.
Run, run, listening to running feet.

Guys play tough, but inside they’re sweet.
Life is hard, tough like rocks.
Boom, boom, shooting in the street.

Many people try, it’s a game, we kill-n-defeat.
A lot are so scared they shiver in their socks.
Run, run, listening to running feet.

Taking cars, happy when their mission’s complete.
When li’l kids die, families are in shock.
Boom, boom, shooting in the street.

So many aren’t dead but they die in the street.
We try and run but still end up on a block.
Boom, boom, shooting in the street.
Run, run, still listening to running feet.

Villanelle Mania (7th grade)

Check Jacob's villanelle. We're working on writing the villanelle form with all the classes (we have been reading the classic by Dylan Thomas, "Do not go gentle into that good night," as well as a more contemporary example by Michael Ryan, "Milk the Mouse") but we need one more week to finish up. Jacob, however, handed me this hot potato right away. One of his lines was inspired by "Milk the Mouse." Kudos to him, and enjoy to you.

I should mention that some students in other classes did hand in their first-draft villanelles to me, but Jacob's was the only one that totally stuck to the rhyme and repetition scheme of the traditional form. With that in mind, I plan on posting some of the other examples when they get a chance to take another stab at them.

I've also included a lovely little poem from Susy, which she wrote during the week. Both of these poems are from Mr. Czoski's 7th grade class in room 209.

###

Let me be for once
Susy G.

Confused of life
Confused of love
Confused of where my heart is taking me
Confused about you
Can I just be confused
For a second a minute a year!
Just confused


Villanelle
Jacob L.

They will beat me ’til I’m sore
They will look for me every day
Be strong, be tough, they can’t find me anymore

They think I’m poor
They will look by the bay
They will beat me ’til I’m sore

They saw me running out the door
They won’t find me if I pray
Be strong, be tough, they can’t find me anymore

It was like a war
They are on their way
They will beat me ’til I’m sore

They almost took me down on four
They might find me today
Be strong, be tough, they can’t find me anymore

They hate be because I ignore
I must obey
They will beat me ’til I’m sore
Be strong, be tough, they can’t find me anymore

Lots of people, lots of needs (8th grade)

After reading “Las mamás con bebé” ("Mothers with a Baby") by Guadalupe Morfín, I asked the 8th graders to envision a personage with some sort of responsibility or problem, and to write a poem as a list of things--both real and fantastical--that could help this person. I emphasized strongly that they could write about someone they knew, but that they should change the tense out of the first person: "My mom" to "Moms," for example. I was encouraged after reading these new strong poems from students you may not have read on this site before.

###

Mr. Balcazar, Rm. 203, 8th grade

Friends with 5 Sisters Need
Andrea S.

a day of freedom
Cinderella to bring her a shoe
time to concentrate in school


Dads with Hard Jobs
Amairany L.

Dads with hard jobs need
a long day without work
to make him laugh
to show him that he’s needed
to show him he’s loved.

Dads with hard jobs need
family to greet him and make
him happy on his worst.

Dads with hard jobs need
to be a prince and take his
Cinderella away from everything.


Teenagers who Need to Relax
Luis P.

Teenagers who need to relax,
who need a spaceship to fly away,
who need stereos as big as a
house,
a closet as big as a room.

###

Ms. Catinella, Rm. 202, 8th grade

Mother with Babies
Alejandra S.

Mothers with babies need free time
waiting to be rescued by a prince.
Something good to do today.
Make the man get up and help
take care of kids.

A single mother would need someone
to help them.
A real family not only work.
Leave her pills and just get health.
Needs to be happy.
Needs to look good.
Needs a long night’s sleep.
A day off without work.
A house elf to help them in the house.
Morning portraits to send messages.
Owls to go to the store.
Needs to have fun with herself.
Love in her life that would never die.


teachers with students
Mariana D.

teachers with students need
fairies to zip their lips
a cup of coffee
an elf to correct work
a magic wand
a giant to put stuff


Moms with Sons
Anthony M.

Moms with sons need
someone to support them
they need a home to
keep them alive
They need some beans
to make them forget
all the bad memories

###

Ms. Fenton, Rm. 204, 8th grade

Sons with Dads
Daniel

Sons with dads need
to be shown how to be a man
show me how a man stands
and show me how to do work
and do the right things
tell me to go to school
and to do womething with my life
not to become a bum
how to do business
and tell about when he was young
and it’s different from now
get me the stuff I need
like clothes, a bed, and my medical needs.
He will always be there.


Teachers with Students
Guadalupe A.

Teachers with students require
someone to help them
to put discipline
to teach them everything
a flying hawk to look over them

Teachers with students require
a large amount of candy
Darth Vader to calm them down
most important—have a lot of patience
be kind and give out As


Sons with No Dads
Edwin R.

Sons with no dads need
someone to play sports
with you someone to drive
you to school someone to
watch TV someone to pay
the bills. Someone to teach
you how to walk someone to
love you. Someone to protect
you from all harms. Someone
to teach you how to drive
your first car. Someone
to teach you how to ride
your bike. Someone to teach
you how to fight. Someone
to teach you how to
catch a football. Someone
to be there for you.

This poem is about... (7th grade)

When the 7th graders came at this assignment, I felt like it gave them some space to express some things that they hadn't necessarily had a chance to get into before. For instance, Charles' poem seems much more empassioned in tone than many of his earlier pieces. Rene's poem about baseball employs some incredibly striking imagery. In fact, many of the students took this opportunity to either pay tribute to something that they care deeply about (soccer, family, a distinctive friend, skateboarding), or blow off steam about something that gives them anxiety.

###

Mrs. Jamen, Rm. 207, 7th grade

Think?
Charles H.

This is a poem for all the people
who suffered or had a
tragedy
This is a poem for me
This is a poem for you
I want to write a poem that
will catch you and make you
think
This is a poem for people
who don’t have everything they
want
Think please think
and get lost in another
world that is not
yours
Go somewhere be something
that will make you enjoy
every day of your life
This is a poem for you all
?


The Sport
Rene R.

This poem is for baseball.
This poem is about baseball
on how you dive on the outfield giving
up your body to give for a little white
ball. And on how you’re batting and the
pitcher throws the ball and it’s coming
at 100 mph speed and when it comes your
heart starts pounding like you’re going to
get hit with a car. When the ball passes
by your eye you blink and swing and
then the ball starts to fly in the
air and goes where no person gets to
it and it’s gone.


Nothing
Elianay S.

This is a poem for angels
who are looking down on us.
People are walking slower or
faster or no people.
This poem is for my dog.
He is hurt he runs he
darts but inside he’s special.
This poem is about people. Everyone.
That will get lost for this poem.


Oh God Why
Antonio G.

Oh God there is shooting
This is a poem for people
Let’s go inside
People are falling to the bloody ground
Others crying and praying
Families shot everywhere
the cops nowhere in sight
Parents running saying Help! Help!
and then falling to the ground
Cars all shot up
tires flat
windows bulletproof
Oh God why

###

Mr. Czoski, Rm. 209, 7th grade

Come Together
Alejandra R.

Family
come together.
This poem is for Lupe.
Everything is gone,
it messed up my life.
You leaving away makes
everyone stay awake.
This poem is for my mom.
There’s one thing in
live that I love the best.
Never forget never, never
This poem is for my dad.
Dad, you left us alone,
but I don’t have some
madness for U ‘cuz I
know that you love me
most.
This poem’s for my
family that I love the most.
I want it to get fixed and
live in one home.


Better Congregation for the Nation
Joel V.

This poem is for the people.
We need a better congregation for the
nation. Our segregation isn’t done.
Matter of fact it’s just begun, take
us back to the stone age. The
politics are too strong and too
wrong but we the people
united can never be defeated
as long as we stand long
and strong then we could make it.


Don’t Go
Valentina G.

Please don’t go.
I’m worried, scared, sad and tired.
She’s getting ready.
She’s about to go.
I don’t want her to go.
Mexico.
Just please don’t go.
She’s been through enough.
She needs ME.
But I guess it’s her time to go.
I must let go.
Bye.
And there she goes.
This poem is for my mom.


Impossible is Nothing
Edgar R.

This poem is 4 soccer…
I love soccer…but I don’t
have the same feelings about it
anymore. It’s my favorite thing
to do. But when I think about
it it’s like I’m just wasting my
time. One out of one million gets chose
2B professional…but I’m never
gonna give up until I’m that
one. The life lesson I learned
is that impossible is nothing…

###

Mrs. Bourret, Rm. 208, 7th grade

Time
Melissa C.

Let's go back...back into
time
I wake up and the alarm
clock says 9 o'clock
Everywhere I go I hear
Time, Time, Time other
days some say, It's
time, what time is it?
My nerves take over me
and in my mind it goes
Tick Tock Tick Tock
No one is ever on time
It's like a final
destination when you're
almost dead but you
never know when
your life is over
I'm in a rush I'm in
a hurry I'm late
Oh my God!! I need
more time seriously
all these words mean
the same
Come with me to the
future you need I need
some more time
So let's go back into
time...


Afraid
Anissa V.

This is a poem for people who
are afraid
If you take a look around,
people look the same, act the
same, and speak the same
I wonder why this is,
why people are afraid to be
their own person,
afraid to create their own path

You shouldn't care what others
might think,
you shouldn't be afraid if you want
to go out for ballet
even if you're a boy
You shouldn't hesitate if you want
to do football,
even if you're a girl
reach for stars
don't let them stop you
take my hand
I'll help guide you
don't be afraid to live


Life
Karina A.

This is a poem about life.
Old. New. Young. Old.
I want to be dead, but still living
every day.
This is a poem for everyone.
Alive or dead. Standing still or in
the grave. This is a poem that will
change the world and the way
people will look at me; differently.
I want to leave and never
come back. But then again thinking it
over again, the people I'll miss
and objects too. This is a poem
that starts a story but always
ends the same way.

###

Mrs. Harris, Rm. 210, 7th grade

Bobby Jerrysonkins
Lorenzo R.

This poem is about someone I care about...
Energetic, funny, hyper...
Doing cartwheels and writing on mirrors...
Living life your way...not the way you're told...
Night is your morning and morning is tired...
Talking forever...
Watching and listening...being aware...
Hearing one thing...never forgiving...
But I still love you...


Dear My Mom Poem
Daniela M.

This poem is for Jorge M-
who doesn't let me breathe
without asking him
who keeps me trapped in my
room like I'm not important
who doesn't listen to what I have
to say
who leaves me furious when
he ignores me
This poem is for my mom
I don't want to live here
anymore
the screaming the yelling the slamming
the same thing every day
I'm not sure if only you
knew how I feel


The Different Poem
Janan A.

This is a poem for my mother and father
who have always worked hard in
their lives.
This is a poem for people to read
anytime or anywhere

This is a poem that will bring happiness
to people.

This is a poem I have to think
about when I write.

This is a poem for children to read
to their pets.

This is a poem that is different from
the others.

This is a poem I have to stare at
people in order to think.

This is a poem I write with a smile
on my face.

This is a poem for my uncle that
passed away
and I will always love him and miss
him.

This is a poem for things in the
world.

But mostly, this is a poem for me, that
I have written in a different way.

This is a poem that does not label anyone.


Come Back
Gabriela S.

This is a poem for my friends.
I want to party.
I want to write a poem to take all of my anger out.
This is a poem for my dog.
I want it to come back home.
I want to tell my dog I miss him.
I want to talk to someone that will listen to me.
This is a poem for my dream.


Skating
Chris S.

This is a poem for you
just for you like
people were skating
crying bleeding
breaking their bones
going to hospitals
getting X-rays
getting screws
in their knees
wrists elbows
having surgery
staying home
for weeks and
skating all
over again

This poem is about.. (6th grade, Rm. 109)

Over the holiday break, I was reading Robert Creeley's for Love, and I became obsessed with his poem called "Please." I shared this poem with the kids, and asked them to approach the idea of a poem that referenced itself as a poem, for instance by saying "This poem is for..." or "This poem is about..." Many of them also used other devices that Creeley used in his poem, such as repeating a single word to convey emphasis. The group of poems below is from Mrs. Hernandez' 6th grade class in room 109.

###

So Lonely
Joey M.

This poem is for my cousin
lying in a dark room!
Silence, silence, silence.
She gets so lonely
quiet quiet quiet
like putting on headphones
nothing but air.
This is a poem for my family.


Untitled
Jacqueline S.

Boom!
This is a poem for everyone
I want to go everywhere
everywhere, everywhere
where the loudness is there
This poem is about loudness
every day is loud, loud, loud
I dedicate this poem to my mom


I Want
Christian H.

I want to write a poem
that will cry, that will
touch the sky.
I want my poems to be
alone or to be with
someone.
I want, I need, and I get.

I want to write a poem that
will live and die.

I want to write a poem
for you.


Please Leave it Clean
Miguel G.

This is a poem for my mom.
Tired, let me rest, for a bit can I
sit, cleaning like a maid all day.
Tired like a just ran 5 miles non
stop. Have many bumps and bruises
from hitting my body on stuff
all day, have a headache from
hitting my head, and helping the
kids with the homework all day
today. Can you leave the house
alone for once. Please leave it
clean. This is a poem for my
mom.

Haiku III (Rm. 203, 8th grade)

I've enjoyed this haiku section immensely. There's soemthing about the smallness of the form that takes the intensity that this group has to offer, and pressurizes it. These from Mr. Balcazar's 8th graders in Rm. 203.

###

Haiku
Luis P.

The view from my mom’s office:
Chicago streets, people, cars, trains
run around like ants.


Haiku
Samantha G.

This moment I want
to walk downtown at night for hours
to see all the lights.


Haiku
Max T.

People should not lie
and have more courage into what
they do, and have guts.


Haiku
Estephanie C.

He never knows what
is going on around him
and he never will


Twirling Clay Haiku
Anthony W.

The pottery pan
rotates in circles again
Maybe it’s finished


Haiku
Jaime S.

In this moment I
hear, “Why am I doing this?
Do I enjoy this?”


Haiku
Rosalina A.

Leaves change from green to
red like a teacher’s face when
he gets very mad.


Haiku
Christian E.

the big black jacket
is falling to the dirty
floor where the rest are.

Haiku III (Rm. 202, 8th grade)

More striking haiku, this time from Ms. Catinella's 8th graders in Rm. 202.

###

Haiku
Vanessa D.

Our music is really loud.
We can feel the floor moving.
We could dance all night.


Haiku
Samantha N.

Headphones blast music.
The phone is ringing again.
Not heard or answered.


Haiku
Adrian C.

Cars turning to dust
Whales exploding in mid-air
Planes crashing to dust


Haiku
Daniela C.

lots of violence
innocent people dying
disease running


Haiku
Gabriela C.

It’s dull and boring outside
Trees are naked without their
sharp vibrant color


Haiku
Anthony M.

Car smoke stops flowing
The sound of the heater work
The snow on the roofs


Haiku
Mariana D.

thinking if I will
pass 8th grade and go to the
high school that I choose

Haiku III (Rm. 204, 8th grade)

More haiku poems, which--similar to the batch of Richard Wright poems that we read--seem to reflect some common concerns and perceptions of these students, while often adhering to a fairly traditional format. These from Ms. Fenton's class, Rm. 204, 8th grade.

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Haiku
Juan M.

It’s cold and raining
A lot of people are out
living on the streets


Haiku
Monica H.

I hear the sound of
the second hands on the clock
as they come to meet.


Haiku
Daniel G.

His mind is calm but
it is not really the most
clear in this moment.


Haiku
Guadalupe A.

Angels of Heaven,
a chorus singing for hope.
On a sunny day.


Haiku
Adriana S.

I hear the sirens
the smoke coming out my door.
Can’t stand the odor.


Haiku
Alex S.

I hear other
classes’ students getting in
trouble and getting yelled at.


Haiku
Katelyn P.

The chalk relaxes
as if it has not rested
for many long hours.


Haiku
Edwin R.

I hate my old house.
There were drugs shooting and gangs.
I hated the ’hood.


Haiku
Margo R.

Rain is pouring down
Grandma is making cookies
for my little cousin


Haiku
Frank M.

Outside snow pours
shoes squeak well I think
nature makes us live

Haiku part III (8th grade, Rm. 201)

In the 8th grade classes, we took the prewriting we had done ("in this moment...") and used it as source material to write haiku poems. I asked them to select the strongest lines or sections, and shape them into haiku poems. We did this first as a group with a section of text that I had made up and written on the board; I had them suggest cuts and line breaks that would shave the piece down into the haiku format. I included more pieces than usual, since the form is so short. Room 201's contributions are below--the rest to follow in separate postings.

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Mr. Stalla, Rm. 201, 8th grade

Haiku
Paulina O.

Silent is present
Giggling in the background
Quickly kills silent

Haiku
Christopher V.

light and darkness
darkness is your depression
light is happiness


Haiku
Omar V.

life is everything
people die 'cause people kill
people kill 'cause life


Haiku
Jacqueline L.

When you listen closely
you hear the lead of the pencils
hit the hard desk.


Red
Jacob N.

I'm thinking of the color red
which means passion, fierce, blood,
a strong burning flame.
Anger.


Haiku
Rubi E.

I hear them talkin'
going to work in the car
thinking about pink


Haiku
Victor R.

The sun brightly shines
when the day is bright and new.
And it's filled with fire.


Haiku
Adrian C.

A man is working
thinking of home and his wife
making a living


Haiku
Lorene R.

The summer is just
like getting into a nice
jacuzzi at night.


Haiku
Jessica G.

I'm thinking about
my dad's delicious shrimp soup
when it's cold outside.


Haiku
Alyss D.

Sounds inside my head
are telling me to give up.
This kinda sounds right.


Haiku
Heberto H.

It is too hot out.
The sun won't just go down now.
Can't it just cool down.


Haiku
Raul G.

It is too cold out
There is no sound just silence
Everyone is scared


Haiku
Melissa M.

I hear my heart going
So blow and blow that my heart
go and never hear before


Haiku
Bianca P.

A new child has been
born not knowing that he
is just living to die.


Haiku
Monica C.

Innocent people
are losing lives defending
something that's not theirs.