Jessie Brown
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    • Some Short Poems to Practice Aloud
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    • Feeding the Muse
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    • Iron, Clay, Silk
    • Display: Why I Miss the Lost Trees
    • Display: Approach/ The Field
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Snow Flake

Snow flake, snow flake,
glittering little snow flake,
snow flake, snow flake,
come over here.

            —Elizabeth M., Kindergarten



My heart is a bird flying
above the clouds
with ruby red eyes.
A flock of falcons
chasing it.  It dodges them
and reflects light with
its eyes.  Its sharp
clinging talons glitter
in the sunlight.
It feathers shine in the sun.

            —Group poem, 2nd 



Listen to the Stars

If you listen at night
you can hear the
stars talk    in a soft
voice    girl stars    boy
stars    all kinds of stars
even animal stars

            —P.J. R., 2nd



Anger is a deserted house
a book with no ending
a trombone belting out its lowest note
a hammer clunking the table
a dark and dreary midnight
a crow picking at your green grass
a person with no friends
a cheetah attacking a hare
a tree with no leaves
a strike of lightning on a house
a bone breaking

            —Kara M., 3rd/4th grade




Dark New World  

Oh, night, you disappear during the day
and grow as the sun
goes down.
You long black streak --
I thought you were a dark new world.
Something would climb
into my window.
A clown stared from
the closet. A monster
lived under the bed.  There was
laughter in the lightning
and terror in the quiet.
Now your silence soothes me into my dreams,
oh night,
oh night.

                  —Group poem, 3rd 



Anger

Anger pushes my fist to the table
I bang it three times,
scream and run to my room
I bang my bulging pillow
I feel so mad I hate everything on earth
The shine on my inside goes black
I want the world to stop
I throw my toys
around the room and scream
My mom comes in
and talks to me softly
like my sister says her doll does
Slowly the shine on my inside
comes back.

            —Monica, 4th



Report Card

You rip me open
Then you look at me nervously
Then your face scrunches up
and you yell, What? This can’t be!
Then you say, I hate this report card!
as if it’s my fault you got all D’s
You stuff me in your backpack
and then you go home
Your mother yells when she sees me
You curse at me
then rip me apart.

            — Peter S., 4th 

  

Daddy

I walk through a forest,
a forest of legs,
shuffling my feet
on the gravel below.
I see a sparrow
jumping branch
to branch.
He looks lost,
lost from his home
his family and friends.
I’m still walking
in a forest of legs.
Shuffling my feet
on gravel below,
for I’m lost,
lost from my home
my family and friends.
I hug a leg.
Strong arms pick me up.
I rub my cheek
against his rough skin.
I love you, daddy.

            —Aislinn B., 5th 



The Rest

I am a rest
People write me on music sheets
People think that I’m just nothing
I feel left out
I see people staring at me
I hear nothing when they come to me
I’m afraid that they hate me
I wish people would say something when they came to me
I am a rest

            —Wahab M., 5th   





 



A pencil is a dagger that pierces the heart,
that kills.  It flies through battle.  Sharp and sleek,
it gives pain without remorse.  It breaks life.
It made me cry, waiting with its dark secret.

            —Group poem, 6th   




A Wood Desk

Wood has lines like a poem
        sometimes they both curve
Poets bend words
        like wood grain weaving across a desk
Some poems are rough
        like the wood underneath
        that you can't see
The desk holds papers
        A poem holds feelings
The drawer of a desk slides in and out
        like the emotions of a person
        moved by a poem

                  —Wolf H., 7th 



Pink  

I know you think I'm
pretty, bright, and just for girls --
Yea, Rrright!
I'm bad to the bone.
I may smell like luscious
strawberries,
but I think of running away.
I may taste of tart and
be refreshing,
but I feel like frowning
when people smile.
On the outside I'm 100% Angel.
On the inside I'm 100% DEVIL!
I don't sound of quiet whispers,
I sound like Beethoven,
twists and turns to my music  --
but all suspenseful.

          —Laura M., 7th




The Ice

I can remember my first pair of skates.
I remember my dad’s rugged hands, how they
imprisoned my feet.
I remember the ice, how it always kept
moving to make me fall.
How it hurt when I fell.
What had I done to deserve this?
I was being punished with these skates.
How I longed to leave this place.
Where was the once-warm water I swam in?
Why was my dad smiling while I
stood there on that prison?
My feet screamed for air.
Instinctively, I cried.

I look back at those days and laugh.

            —Jeff S., 7th 



Spring

Like Laughter, like Liquid, like Love,
it flowed through my body
whatever it was
and I dance and
danced and spun round
and round and glory
filled my body then
I fell to the ground
Like Laughter, like Liquid, like Love,
I breathed the 
sweet air amongst
the green grass and Honeysuckle
and life filled my
body and I danced
Like Laughter, like Liquid, like Love,

            —Jamaica B., 7th 



I Done Did My Job

I done did my job
         I completed my wishes
         I done worked in kitchens
         cleaned the houses
         and did the dishes
I done raised my kids
         (very well)
         done sent them to school
         (ain’t goin’ to jail)
                  paid my dues and now
                  I’m throughs
I done did my job
         so now I’m old
         or so I’m told
         you may call me bold, but
I done did my job.

                              —Imani P., 8th



Self-Defense


On the first bomb, I wrote,
           “God bless America!”

The T.V. tells me I killed
           babies.
The president salutes me,
my father is proud.

On the second bomb I wrote,
           “This is for Moammar’s mother!”

The T.V. tells me I murdered
           hundreds
Everyone loves me,
I am a hero.

God bless America.

                           —Owen B., 8th
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