Windowpane Personification -- 7th grade

I shared two poems with the students, both that had speakers who observed something from their bedroom window, and used personification to help describe this thing, and found some inspiration from it as well. We read and discussed "Four Skinny Trees/Cuatro arboles flaquititos" by Sandra Cisneros, and "A True Account of Talking to the Sun on Fire Island" by Frank O'Hara, before we wrote our own window poems, where I asked them to choose a non-human item they can see from their window and use personification to describe it. More specifically, I encouraged them to envision a conversation beteween themselves and this thing (similar to Frank and the sun in "A True Account").


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Mrs. Jamen, Rm. 207, 7th grade

A Promising Star
Paola S.

I was falling asleep
when a tiny little voice yelled, "Come out!"
I arose sleepily and opened my door.
I went outside to my porch.
"Where are you?!" I yelled.
"Look up here!" a glitter fell on my head.
"Now look, I've been sent to give
you an important message."
I was trying to look at it but its shiny
mouth kept hurting my delicate eyes.
"I've heard you have been getting in
trouble, making bad decisions."
It was short but wide arms pointed at
me.
"Yes, see lately I don't know what to
do, I'm confused, I don't know how to
make my own choices."
I couldn't help it, my eyes
were watery.
"Look, I promise, just follow your
heart and it will guide you to
a good path."


Estrella
Daniela G.

Una estrella en la noche
brillaba como nunca,
y decide hacerla mi
amiga. Ella siempre
me escucha lo que tengo
que contar aunque sea
tan aburrido que hasta
yo misma me quedo
dormida pero para ella
no importa porque es
mi mas grande amiga.


The Cars That Never Stop
Miguel M.

I see the cars from my window.
I see them running like
people run during a race.
I see their wheels moving
fast like they were human
legs trying to be the
first ones to get to their
destination. I ask them if
they are tired of running
all day trying to be the
first ones to get where they
can rest for some time
but they said they
like going from one place
to another because that's
what they know to do.


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Mr. Czoski, Rm. 209, 7th grade

Grass
Cynthia S.

I see the grass very dark.
It said, “I feel so lonely. Nobody
pays attention. They step
on like I don’t have feelings.”
“That’s exactly how I feel,” I said.
“I like when the kids play
on, especially soccer,” said the grass.
“Don’t let your emotions
take control of you. You have to be
very strong,” told me,
the grass.


The Stubborn Car
Louis B.

the cars were running by
yelling in their deep voices
I yell back “be quiet out there”
it ignores me
I yell it again
the car behind it tells it to listen to me
the car tells me “forget you”
I throw a toy car at it
the car blows its exhaust at me
I scream “stupid car”
then I shut my window


Moon
Jesus Jacquez

The moon is very bright at night
the moon comes down and shines on me
and tells me, “What’s wrong?”
“I got an F on my test.”
The moon told me, “Keep studying.”
“I do study,” I said.
“Then go to school and study there
and tell the teacher what you need
help on,” said the moon.
“O.K.” I said.
“O.K., bye,
I have to rise down so the sun
can come up.”
“Bye,” I said.


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Mrs. Bourret, Rm. 208, 7th grade


Moon
Stephanie G.

Moon—the moon talks
to me and tells
me things like, “Be
confident.” And I
tell it, “How?” And it says,
“Figure it out yourself. You
know how. Just try. YOU
CAN DO IT.”

The moon talks
to me every night when
everyone is sleeping.

The more I grow
up, I’m more confident.

Her name is LALA because
she sings to make people
go to sleep. When she
sings I fall asleep and
become more confident.


Untitled
Emilio R.

I could hear the wind talk
to the tree. I hear swift words.
I hear the tree rumble in the
darkness…I hear what I can’t see.


Houses
Cristian G.

When I saw my neighborhood
it seemed like family.
Being all together,
watching each other.
When the curtains open and
close, it’s looking at someone.
Your neighbors coming out the
house and cleaning up the house.
They give you protection by
keeping you in the house.
Thank you, house,
for keeping me safe,
and I will thank you back.


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Mrs. Harris, Rm. 210, 7th grade


The Beautiful Stars
Ashley C.

I look out the window and I
see the stars. I’m talking to
my friend on the phone but I don’t
really pay attention. I just stare.
I hope they don’t mind that I stare. They’re
just so beautiful. I tell my
friend I will talk to her
later because I don’t want
her to tell me something
important and I won’t
be paying attention. So then
I stare and wonder, they’re so
far away, yet they glow as
if they were a new light bulb that
just turned on. So I sneak outside
and lay on the cold and wet
grass but I don’t care, there just
lay and stare, the stars so
amazing and they’re so nice and
generous, they show their talent
by giving me a show. The best
thing: they don’t talk, but they sing.


The Fence
Janan A.

“Ya!” it said as I walked by it. “Why
don’t you close me? I am always
standing here to keep your house safe.
And you don’t close me?” “Sorry,” I say,
“I forget sometimes.” “Well, you can’t
forget,” it says. “You don’t know how
it feels standing out here in the
cold nights. And in the melting
summers. Why don’t you try
standing out here with me just
this one night?” it says. “Please!”
So I stay. And the next day
I leave and close the gate. With
a smile.


Wind
Dalia C.

It stands there with no reasoning.
The wind blows,
but it still stays in its place.
The grass says nothing.

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.

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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.

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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.