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..." - 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 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

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

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

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").


###


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.


###


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.


###


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.


###


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.

Yo soy un hombre sincero...

We spent some time with the first verse of "Versos Sencillos" by Jose Marti, a long, rhyming, metered poem, a manifesto of sorts--a statement of ideas, principles, and purpose--that contains a lot of vivid concrete imagery. I brought a small bag filled with slips of paper, each one with a different word (mostly nouns; like salt, paper, water, etc.). I had each student draw three words, and asked them to write the story of their life, or a story of their life, or their own manifesto. The details could be real or made up. They had to use all three words. I also asked them to write in three-line stanzas.

I had a chance to do this writing with two out of four 7th-grade classes. The results were fascinating; I can't wait to try it with the other two.


###


Mrs. Jamen, Rm. 207, 7th grade


Untitled
Charles H.

I lay on my bed
with the cover overhead
I read a book that
I can’t understand

I walk down
my dark stairway
looking for candlelight,
I’m scared to death
because I can’t see a thing

I wanted in the
kitchen where I eat
a carrot
I don’t understand
why I ate a carrot

I go back up
and I go to
sleep where I
dreamt of a
carrot, candle, and a cover


Untitled
Myriam L.

I sit under a tree
with my sketchbook in my lap
thinking, imaginating, and drawing

Picking at the staple
holding my papers together
not paying attention


Untitled
Paola S.

My life is like a blank sheet,
it’s not destroyed, but not smooth
though there’s nothing there.
It’s like a rock.


Untitled
Lorybeth A.

I see grass within glass.
I tie my lace with my hands.
I use my shoe to walk to school.


Vampire Heart
Aaron B.

I have looked for
garlic on one of my
very high shelves. I ran
through the doorway and
killed the vampire with it!


###


Mr. Czoski, Rm. 209, 7th grade


Dark Lonely
Shakeela M.

My life’s like ink on paper
splattered with emotions no one knows.
There’s a lot of things in my life that comes
and goes.
When I’m sad my life is slow.
I’m like a plate on the floor.
I have no one else.
I’m all alone all by myself.
I feel so sad inside I might need
help.
I’m like cream with cones.
Different than others.
But some people tell me I look like
my mother, and that’s a real bother.


Untitled
Lilibeth U.

I remember when I was little
I used to be a sweet as sugar.
And I used to be bossed by everyone.

But one day I felt like I was getting
used by everyone. I felt like hiding
inside a bag so everyone would leave me alone.

I could feel the salty tears running through
my face. That’s when I exploded. The girl
that used to have a heart that was as
sweet as sugar turned into a girl that
has a heart as hard as cement.


When You’re Doing Life
Kevin Z.

When you’re doing life
you feel like a book
you’re being read until you’re dead
When you’re in prison you feel
like a screen you get looked at and you
will never be seen


Untitled
Cynthia M.

Outside in the brisk fall
morning by the big oak tree
raking up the leaves in
little piles then walking away
and having to go back and
do it again.

My mother calls
me in from the cold to
eat lunch. Mmm—spaghetti and garlic
bread and a glass of chocolate
milk.

Family comes looking around.
I’m nowhere to be found.
I’m on the roof to relax
looking at the stars.


My Life
Cyntha S.

The mother watches us
grow just like
we do when we’re growing a
tree.

Onions’ mothers don’t like them
because they make them cry, just
like me.

Glass is see-through sometimes.
I wish that I could see
through my life.


Life
Susy G.

Feeling like a curtain
is wrapped around me
not able to move

The river going
fast and faster like you can’t
run fast like the way your life goes!

The way your blood
goes fast through your
body!

I have to praise you...

More poems from the "Praise Poem" exercise, based on "Praise Song" by Lucille Clifton. I have some poems here from Mrs. Bourret's 7th grade class in Rm. 208; I only did this writing with one classroom, as we were occupied with reading and discussing the "I Fear" poems. More praise poems next week!

With this writing, I wanted to push the kids past the expected (encouraging them to praise representative parts of an item, or to praise unusual things that we wouldn't normally consider praiseworthy), and for them to warm up to the point that something unexpected might emerge.

Here are three examples; these three all seem to reach a point in the writing where they stumble over something new.

###

Untitled
Eric W.

I praise my mom, a special
woman that I adore a lot. She’s
pretty, makes me happy. But when
things happen she cries her pretty
eyes out, her tears just flowing
to the drain, then she falls out
and sleeps the night away.


Untitled
Gerardo I.

I praise that there is
a heart in everyone because
there is love in everyone’s heart.

Also I praise that
there is a hand to guide
when you are lonely.

Also I praise that
there is an ear that can
hear me when I am sad.

Also praise that there are
eyes that can see someone
in their ugliest.


Untitled
Anissa V.

Praise to my father’s voice; not how it
sounds but what it says.

Praise to the soil, ’cause if it wasn’t for
it we wouldn’t have plants or
vegetables to eat.

Praise to teachers, for giving you
education for your future.

Praise to pictures; without them I
wouldn’t be able to see my grandfather’s
face.

Praise to memories that you never
forget.

Praise to stories that tell you
about a loved one who you’ve
never seen or met.

Praise to dreams, ’cause without
them, what would we have
to live for?

Praise to poetry, you can let out
your emotions and express
yourself fully.

Praise to love that warms my
heart when I’m sad, the feeling
of being loved by your family I
think is the best love around.

Praise to the colors, which we
need to make a beautiful
painting.

Fear Poems cont'd, Rm. 208

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

###

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.

###

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."


###

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.