New McPherson Blog!

As the 2008-2009 school year begins, The Poetry Center has made some exciting changes. One major change is the re-launch of our web site. From there, you may access McPherson's blog of student writing for the new year, and beyond.

Go here for direct access to the new blog! It's now easier than ever to find terrific poetry.

If there's no student work posted yet, be patient...we're just getting underway. Check back soon -- check back often -- and feel free to tell anyone who might be interested all about the Hands on Stanzas program.

Here's looking forward to another productive year with McPherson students!

Imagism, Minimalism, Objectivism, Haiku

This week, we read three poems by 18th century Japanese poet and painter, Yosa Buson: "Coolness," "Early Summer Rain," and "Sparrow Singing." Then we looked at William Carlos Williams' classic minimalist poem, "The Red Wheelbarrow." Students were asked what these four poems had in common, and in what ways were they different? Some were familiar with haiku, but instead of sticking with the traditional haiku syllabic formula, students were encouraged to write poems that created a simple, but evocative image in the mind of the reader, in three lines with no more than five words per line.

There were many terrific responses to this idea -- here's a selection.

Ms. Barreda, 8th Grade

Snow
Raymond A.

snow falls like a feather
to earth and is as
soft as a cloud

Black Horse
Jose L.

The black horse
runs alone
on its path.

The Shadow
Jorge L.

The shadow –
six more weeks of
winter.

Little Sparrow
Tonya P.

Little sparrow in the cage
open the door
and watch it soar

Empty Desk
Marco Q.

Empty desk.
Empty chair.
Alone.

Oreo
Airam V.

a cookie
white
a cookie

Mrs. Turk, 7th Grade

Time
Julissa A.

Clock ticking –
ever so slowly
ever so slowly

White Snow
Mayra A.

White snow,
on top of trees, grass.
Beautiful flakes.

Raining Inside
Ana A.

Raining inside
the room, everything
wet.

Kettle on Stove
Leonardo B.

burning
ringing
oh it's done

Snow
Dezarai G.

Bright as sun
wet and icy
white and cold

Bat
Jose J.

sound of the bat
hitting the ball,
CRACK!

Butterfly
Lily O.

Colors –
flood the air and sky
in its wings

Reflection
Oscar P.

reflection of the
new iPod
shiny.

Fall Leaves
Jodi R.

red orange brown
dancing around
in the air having fun

Ms. Touras, 6th Grade

Penguins
Delia D.

waddling in the snow
so slow, so mute
watching them play all day

The Sun
Delilah D.

Yellow and bright
it hurts your
sight.

Roller Coaster
Agnes F.

goes up and down
and around
not wanting to stop

The Tree
Abigail P.

The tree covered with snow.
Hummingbirds standing on the
tree.

A Chair
Samuel S.

A chair
rocking
happy

Snowfall
Ledio S.

Little tiny pieces
piling on the ground
can't count them all

Teardrop
Alex V.

Teardrops falling –
the cloud's tears
dripping.

Heteronyms

For the last three weeks, students at McPherson have been working on creating their own characters, and having those characters speak through a unique poetical device called heteronyms. Heteronyms are different from pseudonyms in that they are not simply different names chosen by students using their own voices, but rather, completely different personalities with names and characteristics often far removed from the students' own.

Heteronyms are the creation of Portuguese poet, Fernando Pessoa. In 1914, Pessoa wrote the first of his heteronym poems, credited to Alberto Caeiro, Ricardo Reis, and Álvaro de Campos, only three of over seventy creations. When Pessoa passed away in 1935, he left a trunk containing in excess of 25,000 items — a vast collection of poems, fragments, letters, and journals. During his lifetime, the identity of these alter egos was known only to Pessoa, and the breadth of his literary output is still being discovered.

Week one, we read poems by Caeiro and de Campos, discussing the "personalities" of each heteronym and analyzing differences in the style and composition of the poems. Students began to think about making up their own heteronyms, writing character "sketches" with background details for each. Weeks two and three, students wrote and then revised their poems, trying to capture the voice and personality of their new selves.

Brief details for each heteronym are contained in brackets.

Ms. Barreda, 8th Grade

Jennifer
by Jessica M.

My life is so
complicated.
I am 30 years old.

I have two kids and
a husband.
My career is as a doctor.
It is stressful, sad, and happy.

Saving lives, and sometimes you
try hard to save lives and
at the end you either succeed
or fail.

When someone dies in front
of me, knowing I couldn't do
something to help.
Just being there, looking at
them dying slowly and
painfully.

It is like a million
knives stabbing me
in the heart.

At home, my kids run
toward me.
When I
look into their eyes
it just makes my day.

My life is so
complicated.

Prince Giovanni
by Stephanie P.

[age 5]

I go to school my first day
I feel like a big kid now
I can't wait to be like my brother
big, tall, handsome and smart.

I like being the center of attention
in my house I'm so cute and feel
like a prince. “Prince Giovanni” sounds
good; Príncipe Giovanni even better.

So far, I know how to draw
shapes and stick people
but I still have to learn my
A,B,C's
so mommy and daddy help me.

But there are things that my
big brother hates about me,
that I could eat tacos, enchiladas,
and tamales and hot get fat
Ha Ha!

So I'm Príncipe Giovanni
a kid that goes to school
has to learn his A,B,C's
eats a lot and has a
great family.

But for now I'm tired
and just like every prince
I have to go nani
bye bye.

Byrd Birdie
by Oscar V.

I don't look much like a fighter,
I'm tall but skinny.
Two guys thought I was a weak guy,
so they attacked me.
I didn't want to fight,
but they forced me to,
so I hit one of them on the head.
The other one took a knife out,
he cut me in the left cheek,
it was cut deep.
The police came,
they were going to arrest me too,
and all I was doing was defending myself.
They took me to the hospital.
The medics stitched up the cut,
and that is my scarred story.

Mrs. Turk, 7th Grade

Lebron Smith
by Jessica G.

[age 17]

I can't get out of it,
gangs and violence won't
let me go. My past
is controlling my
future. I'm lost & I'm
tryin' to keep things
cool and under
control.

Taking care of my mom
& sister, being the
man of the house.
Loud voice, but inside
quiet as a mouse.
Not having a father,
a man to look up to
makes life even more
harder to go through.

What do I do? What
should I know? All
of this,
won't let me go.

Bridget Blake
by Jodi R.

My father's wedding
I walk up the aisle
I look up and see my brother
standing beside him
As I walk I hold flowers in my hands
People watching as I go by
Flower petals falling down
Today will be the change
I should be happy I'm getting a mom, but I'm
not
Outside my face has a smile
I miss her, how she cared for me
Now she's up in heaven looking down at me
Why did she have to leave me?
I yell on the inside
I cry on the inside but on the outside
I smile

Christopher Lexiton
by Daniel T.

[age 32]

I like to explore the sea
with my brother as my companion.
If I hadn't been on the sea that
day I would have been home.
Instead I'm washed up on this island
alone...
If I didn't go out that day...
the mistake was to go out that day.
If only I let them stop me.
If only...

Ms. Touras, 6th Grade

You Skipped My Birthday
by Joyce J.

[Stanley Yelnats, age 14]

I'm sitting on the couch, lonely.
I think and think of what will
happen tomorrow.
I have never thought so hard
this way.
Will my parents remember
what happens tomorrow?
I hope they do remember.
It's a special day, the day
I was born.
Will anybody remember?

The day has come and
nobody remembered.
Why, I wonder why they
think this is a normal day!
I feel sad.
Or even mad.
Will I ever forgive my
parents?
That I will see when time goes by.

John Turner
by Aidan K.

[age 30]

I get up when the sky
is pink. Eat hot oatmeal
for breakfast. Put on my
parka. Next I hitch up
my sled dogs. Finally, after
an hour ride I stop and
open my ice fishing hut
at 7 AM. At 6 PM, I
pack up and head home.
Once at home, feed my
dogs and eat dinner. Next,
I read for a half hour
before going to bed at
8 PM.

Bobby
by Ledio S.

[age 16]

I woke up to my Mom telling
me to get up.
She is tough but she can
be fun too.

Thank god it is Saturday.
The school week was too hard.
I got a C on my last paper
and now my Mom is REALLY mad
and now I have to study every
second of my life.

I have to go to practice
today but I really don't wanna
'cause I sprained my ankle last time.
It is still a little stiff.
I'm not that bad, I even scored
last game, but I'm still not the
best. I guess practice makes perfect.

Premonition
by Juliana V.

[Andre Montez, age 31]

I feel sick
I am sick
no cure for me.
My skin is pale
a blank expression
glued to my face.

My family crying
my children's sad expressions.
And then I think my last
thought as I go to sleep.
My family is now nothing
but a sight in my head.
And then I think of my thought
and ask myself,
will you wake up tomorrow?

As I feel a chill go up my spine
I wake up from what
I believe will haunt the rest of
my life.

Color Poems

Brazilian poet, Adelia Prado, writes passionately and intensely about the color "Purple," sometimes using it in unusual ways. After I read Prado's poem in English, a student read it in Portuguese; students were asked which words 'sounded' more purple to them -- "purple," "morado" or "púrpura" -- and which version of the poem they preferred, regardless of whether they understood it in Portuguese. We discussed parts of speech and personification as well. Students were then asked to write their own poems, using a favorite color in as many ways as possible.

Ms. Barreda, 8^th Grade

Red

Rolando C.

Red is on my mind.

Red starts with two persons.

Red goes straight to the heart.

Red is like blood.

When someone bleeds.

Red is like love.

When two people are in love.

When a guy brings red roses to

a girl, when he tells her that

he likes her, that he's in love

with her.

Red is when somebody

hurts you.

When somebody makes you cry.

Red is like you.

Red is like your heart.

When you die you wouldn't

have no more red in your

life.

Red is like happiness.

White

Tonya P.

The life of a pure

soul.

The white light of heaven.

A single piece of perfect

love.

The other half of yin and

yang.

The color of a peaceful dove.

Warm cotton blanket

that protects me from

the dark.

The happiness that gives

me a smile on my face.

Blue

Edgar T.

Blue is a very beautiful color,

as bright as the sky, beautiful like

it. When I think or see the color

blue, it really gets my attention.

It's bluetiful.

When the color blue is mixed

it may get me a little more attention.

The color blue is a color everyone

would probably love. It brings light,

passion.

Blue is my favorite color

to think of, see.

Black

Diego V.

Black is my room

not only because of

the color of the

walls but because

of the memories.

The memories are

bright just like

the color red.

I've been through

blue and red memories

that I just can't forget.

I wish I could change

someday from black and

red to blue someday.

Mrs. Turk, 7^th Grade

Red

Erika C.

Red is

my heart

and it

looks like

a heart

and I

love red

because

the rose

is red.

Pink

Leslie H.

It's the color of the sky at 5 o'clock

when the sun sets in mid summer.

It's the color of a baby's cheeks.

It's my favorite color.

It's the color of my cousin's face when she

blushes.

It's the color of my iPod.

It's the feeling I have when my

heart is dancing.

It's the inside of a strawberry and the

color of cotton candy.

It's the color of my closet, the color

of my room and the color of my bed.

It's everything I just said.

Blue

Jeremy M.

Blue is the color of the

sky that goes

over our heads.

And the waters

below the surface

we stand on.

Blue.

Blue is the

color of day

and color

of thoughts.

It calms down all

of your problems.

It drifts

you out of

the world

to a world of peace.

Nothing to worry about

and be scared of, the color

blue.

Black

Lily O.

Black is the goddess of darkness.

It follows you to the park.

It is not afraid to show itself in broad daylight.

It mimics you in front of the sun.

It follows you into the night.

Night blackens the sky and reveals

the true nature of glittering diamonds far above

the head. Black wears the stars to show the world

that she is wealthy.

Black is the shadow that never leaves

you alone.

Shadow comforts you when you are lonely,

it is your best friend.

Black absorbs heat to keep you warm

even though the sound, Black, is cold and lonely.

It tries to comfort, even when it's lonely.

Black chooses people to comfort, you choose

Black to be your friend.

Green

Alma R.

Green is everywhere

The sound of it rustles with the wind

The grass greens in spring

A leaf greens across the car

Lingers on the window.

I see a green walk in the hall

It waves at me.

I see someone green as they put on

their sweater.

The leg greens as it is bruised

When I was running through the field

And green as I fall on the grass.

Ms. Touras, 6^th Grade

Yellow

Fernando B.

The sun is yellow like a

light bulb

A banana is yellow like a

taxi

The protractor is also yellow

like my pencil

My folder is yellow like my

science project board

The sun makes heat just

like the light bulb in your

house

My favorite color is yellow

I like yellow because

he is so helpful

Blue

Elik J.

Blue, its surface is

soft and it feels slow, feeling

blue all around as if blue were

the earth, going round and round, spinning.

Like a jolt of sorrow, it goes

from place to place, going around.

The My Color Town is Change in Clock

Victor N.

So this is my town my town

is always change in like

two o clock is purple. Today my

town clock right now one o clock

is white one hour later is

two o clock is red one hour more

is three o clock is purple one

hour more four o clock is

yellow one hour more is five

o clock is green one hour more

six o clock is orange one hour more

is seven o clock is blue one

hour more is eight o clock is

black one more is nine o clock is

black and white one hour more

is ten o clock is red and green

one more hour it was eleven o clock

it's yellow and blue one hour

more it was twelve o clock it was

rainbow.

White

Juliana V.

As peaceful as a sunny day.

As calm as the morning sun.

Like a big blanket of snow.

No color just blank.

No thought,

relaxing in peaceful white

never there but always close.

A friend of yours no one can see

so shy it never shows

so clean and calm,

timid, never showing but always there.

Body Part Poems

In her poem, "Anatomy Lesson #2: The Palpation of Bony Landmarks," Katrina Vandenberg urges readers to see beyond the surface of things, beyond the cold and confusing language of science, using "the art of finding" to explore deeper issues of love, compassion and understanding. The poem's anatomical jargon was discussed, and students were asked to consider an under-appreciated body part in poems of their own.

Ms. Barreda, 8^th Grade

Untitled (Body Part Poem)

Angel G.

Eyes are like a camera,

every time you blink it's like taking a picture,

every time that happens it's like a reminder of

something, when you want to look at something

your eyes help you keep the image in mind.

Little Chubby Pinkie

Mayra H.

It's smaller

and fatter

and cuter than anyone else's.

It's like a little sausage

that's so adorable and small.

People might say

ah it's the last finger and it's always left out.

Well not in my case.

Everyone loves it

like a little fat kid

likes pie.

One person that I know

loves my pinkie

is Jorge L., and that's alright.

He's always making fun of the fact

that my pinkie

is fat.

Compare it to anyone else's

pinkie, mine is left

out, so it just curves in my hand

like a little dog in the rain and pouts.

Just because

it's my little chubby pinkie.

A Day as the Real Me

Stephanie P.

Today I wake up and look in

the mirror: I'm not me, I only

see the inside of me, the bones

that hold me up. Today I walk

on the streets, everyone sees me

who I am.

Weird but cool, I see what I'm

made of. I see my arms, the way

my fingers look, my legs, then I

look more deep: I see my heart,

it's as red as an apple, it's as big

as it too or even bigger.

Then I look at my ribs, wow,

so cool, that's what keeps my

upper body and lower body together.

I look one more time in the

mirror. Thanks to all this I have

I'm up and can keep on walking.

I wake up today. I'm me with

skin. I go to school, start writing

and thank my fingers and legs

that keep me going.

Mustache

Marco Q.

I am small, and downy.

I am barely growing.

But I will soon be full.

All of me is like a baby's skin,

smooth and soft.

But I will be rough and tough soon.

Until then I will grow.

Then there will be a day when I am no more.

But I will come again.

Mrs. Turk, 7^th Grade

Untitled (Body Part Poem)

Oscar P.

The brain is a very complex

concept to learn, keeping memory stored

like a flash drive or memory stick.

Looking back at the best moments like

a DVD player. Keeping track

of work like an agenda.

Looking back and reading like

a book.

The brain is our hard drive,

a CPU. Without it I don't

know what I would do.

The brain helps us think,

helps us learn, keeping data

like a computer.

The Face

David R.

The face is an exciting part of the

body. It's like glue. It has two eyes, to

see, a mouth, to talk, a nose, to smell

and two ears so you can listen. It is

also a part that you have to protect when

you're in a match because if you don't

you won't look the same. You'll have two

purple eyes, one bloody nose and mouth and

when you're finished with the match you

get up and are stumbling to the ground

so the match is over and you have lost

not only the fight but

the shape of your face.

Everlasting Beat

Jodi R.

Drumming drumming

I feel so calm

I can feel the tempo

Slow but steady

Then I get nervous

My heart gets louder

The tempo gets faster

Beating so fast

Can't believe

It goes so fast like a roaring car

Then my heart

Slows back down

It's so slow a turtle

Can win in a race with my heart

I start to sleep

Then I hear my last beat

They try to wake me up

But it's no use

My heart is dead

I'm gone

I'm sucked from the world

My heart gone

I'm gone

My body is gone

I keep hearing my last

Beat

Nonstopping

Kept playing like

a broken record machine

beat, beat, beat

beat . . . .

It's an everlasting

beat . . .

Ms. Touras, 6^th Grade

Fingerprint

Ruben D.

The fingerprint is like a rope with

different patterns on it. And when you move it

it's like moving the rope. And your

fingerprint is a land to you but you

don't know what's happening right at this

minute. It could be peace there or an evil

war there. That way I like and feel

like an old old man. When I take a shower

and when I get out I become an old

man.

The Brain

Rafael J.

I wonder what happens in

there if there is a party? When

I get scared that happens? When

I have fun does my brain get

upset or does it get angry? When I am

sad does it have fun? I wonder?

When I think about what I am

going to be when I grow

up does my brain get annoyed?

When I just think does my

brain send messages? When I

talk does my brain tell me

what to say? I will never

know what my brain does.

Bye-Bye

Cody T.

Sitting over a bucket as if to vomit

Nothing

Go to the doctor

Emergency

I feel like I'm old

I'm in a wheelchair

Lots of pain

Hard to breathe

Getting poked in the gut

By many doctors

Got a CAT scan

Thought a cat would scan

Drug injection

Feeling tired

On the 9^th floor

For two weeks

One night

Constant vomiting

The stomach acid

That's inside of me

Go to school

No stairs or heavy objects

Now I'm back to life

Thanksgiving Poems

Holidays provide an easy reference point for poetry ideas. This week, with Thanksgiving around the corner, I decided to bring in Virgil Suárez's "Mango Eating in America." Suárez writes about his childhood in Cuba, and how delicious the mangoes tasted in his native country. Students were asked why Suárez might prefer Cuban mangoes to American ones, and their reasons -- they taste better (sweeter), they remind him of home, they're bigger -- were all excellent starting points for writing poems on a number of suggested Thanksgiving themes.

Ms. Barreda, 8^th Grade

Thanksgiving
Rubisel L.

Thanksgiving is a holiday
that me and my family
celebrate. Thanksgiving
is something to eat.

When it's Thanksgiving my
family goes to my aunt's house
to celebrate Thanksgiving.
Every Thanksgiving we eat a
turkey and we go to my
aunt's house.

On Thanksgiving my
family stays up until midnight.
When it's Friday my family calls
us to go eat turkey at their house.

My Thanksgiving
Stephanie P.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving don't know
what to do. Before my whole family and I
got together we all pitched in to make
the food. It was great even though sometimes
we had fights and either me or my
sister end up being mad the whole night but
at the end we were still family. Then
we all sit down and eat. By the end
of the night everyone would go home,
we had finished eating, watching movies
and talking. Wow I never knew how
before my Thanksgiving was so wonderful.
Now hopefully we could do the same thing
this year.

Give Thanks on Thanksgiving
Maydali S.

In my family we
celebrate Thanks-
giving. Not with
turkey because I
don't like it. One
day I had a night-
mare with a
turkey. I dreamed
that once I
was eating turkey
on Thanksgiving Day
and I dreamed that
while I was eating
turkey, the turkey
started to talk to
me and I got so
scared about that
stupid turkey that
I never wanted
to eat it again.
Every time when my
mom is making the
turkey and my mom
asks me to help her,
I always answer, “No
thanks I'm OK.” Every
time when my mom
asks me that question
the turkey talks to
me and he says, “Come
on, Maydali, come
enjoy me.” I get
so nervous that I
say to the turkey,
“Be quiet, stupid
turkey, I am only going
to see you until
tonight, then you're
going to be in the
stomach of everyone.”

Thanksgiving Food
Edgar T.

The Thanksgiving food, turkey, salad,
soon, it is very good when this celebration comes
around that time of year.

Kids are playing, hungry, parents and
older kids are watching the game, friends
and family join as they all pray, then eat
their delicious food. After they had their
Thanksgiving food,

all have given thanks. That's
what this celebration is about.

Mrs. Turk, 7^th Grade

Bob the Turkey
Julissa A.

Thanksgiving is the worst holiday for me
I get caught
then chopped
what kind of life
is that?
Why can't you people eat ham
or pizza?
It would taste better
than me.
I promise.
I'm just a baby turkey
named Bob.

Untitled (Thanksgiving Poem)
Ana A.

Turkey turkey
everybody wants
to eat, but what
I like about
Thanksgiving is
almost all my
family is together.
We're having fun.
We get to give thanks
for everything we
have.
We eat apple pie, soda.
Oh my god and the
best turkey is
what everybody
loves to eat.

Happy Thanksgiving
Emily L.

I can so tell
the day is here,
Happy Thanksgiving!

The sound of the timer
going off to let us know
the turkey is done,
Happy Thanksgiving!

The sound of the knife, going
up & down, cutting the vegetables,
Happy Thanksgiving!

The smell of the pumpkin pie,
the smooshy sound of the
mash potatoes & I would name them
but it'll take up sooo much space,
Happy Thanksgiving!

And lastly the big juicy turkey,
we all gather around the
table, thinking what fight is going
to happen this year, who gets
to cut the turkey & who
gets to brave the wish bone,
Happy Thanksgiving!

I look and even with
all the commotion going
on, I'm oh so grateful
for another weird, funny,
happy, cheerful
Thanksgiving!

Thanksgiving!
Victoria R.

We arrive at my aunt's. I
smell the turkey she's
cooking, the potatoes she's
peeling, so I guess it's time
to wait for dinner. So there
I am watching TV and
I hear the
yelling of my name. I set
the table. We get ready
to eat and
then we all eat. So there we
are, eating on Thanksgiving night,
where it is quiet, no loud
noises in sight.

Ms. Touras, 6^th Grade

Thanksgiving
Juan C.

When it comes to
Thanksgiving I
don't like the
turkey, I hate it.

I don't like it
because it looks ugly
and tastes so nasty that
I don't even want
to look at it.

So when it comes
to turkey I just
pass on my plate
to someone else
who wants it.

And then I will
eat something else
that is good like sour candy.

Big Stomach
Joyce J.

I get a big stomach on
Thanksgiving. Never in my life
have I eaten so much.

The dishes are filled with
turkey and sometimes they are
filled with beef jerky.

My favorite is mashed potatoes
with gravy on top, other times it's
hard to wait until they are
ready.

That's a big meal but on Thanks-
giving it's not, it's a perfect day
to eat.

Untitled (Thanksgiving Poem)
Elik J.

As we leave
our mom calls us
to get the food

and the drinks so
we could leave,
leave because it is

Thanksgiving. We leave
to the house of
my uncle, kids are

playing, adults talk by
the food. We gather
around the table, we all

pray and give thanks. As we
leave, as I sit thinking of
all the food, the turkey, the gravy,
the family, the colors, green, red,

blue; as I sit I wonder what
will happen next time
we go; but I

will miss the white
meat, covered in silver,
I hope I will

remember this, I hope
next time will be the
same.

Odes

One consistently popular poetic form among students is the ode. They are drawn to its exalted style, used to celebrate everyday things otherwise taken for granted. We read Pablo Neruda's "Ode to a Large Tuna in the Market" and discussed how he describes the tuna, as well as how he feels about it. Students were then given the choice of writing either an ode to something they love, or an anti-ode to something they hate. There were so many excellent responses, it was difficult to choose, but here is a representative selection.

Ms. Barreda, 8^th Grade

Ode to Cars

Miguel A.

I open my

window, looking outside

seeing thousands of cars,

thinking when am I going to

have one, looking at those

cars that look like

ants running, big places

to sit, big places to

drive, it's funny when

you see someone drive.

Walking out in the street

counting all those cars,

color after color, it's fun

when you see a car, looking

at the wheels, how they

go so fast.

I see all those big cars

that look like houses,

you don't think it's a

house, the place

with seats around one strong

machine, the make, the

place to move, with

lights in front and back

they help you see

in the dark.

The big machine

with all that

is something

I like and

is called a car.

Ode to Pizza (Pizza Hut)

Anthony B.

The melted

cheese

goes along with

the pepperoni,

the warm crust,

cheese on top,

with pepperoni,

the crunchy crust,

the cheese in

your mouth burning

your tongue, the pepperoni

being spicy,

the crust

tasting good,

becoming hard and

crunchy as it is

while it's cold,

the sauce red

and good tasting,

you want soda,

the pizza almost

over but when

it is you'll

want another

slice!

Ode to Oreos

Angel G.

Ode to Oreos,

it fills my stomach with milk,

I would wear pajamas of Oreos,

I would want shoes too,

it's so soft when you dip it in milk,

I like to eat the cream first,

then the cookie,

I would want a bag a week.

Ode to a Guitar

Lucero G.

Sitting in your case,

just waiting for

someone to pick you

up.

You're so pink and

shiny.

Your strings run

from top to

bottom.

Your sound is so

relaxing.

It's like you were

a star outshining

all the other ones.

I saw you every

day when I

was walking by

the store,

but now I am

surprised to have

you in my hands

learning how to

play you.

I hope one day

you're a star one

day.

Ode to the Motorcycle

Jonathan P.

Among the streets,

there's a two wheeled

bike with a motor

inside of it,

there's a light in the

front and in the

back, the motorcycle

is just a bike

but with a

motor, it's not

a normal bike

where you pedal,

this bike you

just twist the

handle and off

you go. When

you're on the

street with this

bike it's like

you have

the

permission to

drive a car.

When you're on

the motorcycle

you have to be

focused and keep your

mind on the road.

When I get on

the motorcycle

I don't think about

anything else.

When I'm on

the motorcycle

I like the

feeling of being

on a motorcycle,

I like the

sound of it and

the design and

the motor of it.

Ode to Hot Chips

Jorge R.

I love hot chips

the smell of hot chips

makes me hyper.

There's other brands

like Doritos, Ruffles, and Funyuns

but still I love hot chips.

In my mouth it seems there's

a party inside every time

I try one. Every time I

taste the very first hot chip

of a bag it tastes so good.

Some people don't like hot chips

because they're not machito enough

to eat them. I love hot chips.

Some people think they're spicy

but to me, no they're not. One

day I wish I owned the hot

chip factory. I love hot chips.

Ode to Basketball

Kevin R.

When the ball bounces

it just gives me

a good feeling inside

as if I just

went to space or something.

When I shoot

the ball and make it

I feel good

again

and

when I

miss I

still feel good

inside just

thinking

that I had tried

to make

it.

Mrs. Turk, 7^th Grade

Ode to Me

Viridiana H.

Walking down the

street,

I see people

looking at me.

Well that's a normal

thing. When people

look at me as you

can see I love me.

Some of the things I

like about me is that

I'm fun to be with and I

like Barney. I like to go out

and see different

things I have never

seen, go shopping, and getting

people mad at me. But some

of the things I hate about

me is that I'm

always forgetting things,

also that I hate me.

I think that's all I love and

hate about me. So what

about you, what do you

like about me?

Ode to Baseball

Jose J.

Baseball is the best

invention ever invented.

The ball is coming,

you swing the bat, hit

the ball, you better

run fast. They catch

the ball, you are

out, the next batter

is up, he hits the

ball, it's a home-

run, he runs around

the bases, touches

home plate, it's a

walk-off, we win

the game.

Ode to My Guitar

Jose M.

I love the way it sounds

and that every time I play

it the volume is

so loud

and that when

I hold a note

it screams loudly

and I love the

way that it

sounds hardcore

metal

and even though I'm

only 12 I can

play my guitar

really good

and I will

never forget

the make

Gibson guitar

and I will also

never forget

the name

I named my

guitar, Jack.

Ode to My Video Games (PSP)

David R.

After a hard day at school,

when I get home

especially on Friday

I come home tired

from all the work

in school but there's

always something that

cheers me up...my

PSP. When I get home

I do my homework and

then it's off to play

my PSP. It shines in

the light, it's

black all around and

the screen is clean.

When you start playing

time goes by pretty

fast. My mom comes

in and tells me that it's

time to stop so I put

it to charge for the next

hard day in school.

Ode to Air Force Ones

Tyler T.

You can wear

them they

can be different

colors and sizes

they will match

your clothes and

they are in style

they are comfortable

you can get

different designs

on them and

you can put shoe

polish on them

so they can be

shinier

Ms. Touras, 6^th Grade

Ode to a Pencil

John A.

Oh pencil,

life is hard

without you.

You write my

answers and

you erase my

problems.

You might

look at the

answers that

I told you

to write.

In you go,

into a

sharpener,

sharpening

your blade of might.

You fight

with paper

and win.

You're made

of wood

and sometimes

plastic too.

The secret

weapon is

a piece of lead,

leaving the black

stain everywhere.

Ode to a Tree

Danielle D.

Tree,

It is an important part

Of the world.

Without it people

Would starve to death.

Anything you eat has

Chemicals in it,

Especially food

That is in cans.

All around you,

Trees are what you see.

Without trees,

You will get sun burns

Because nothing is shading you

Under the sun.

Trees,

They are important to the world.

Trees,

You'll never get bored of them.

Because of trees,

We have paper

To write on.

If we didn't have

Trees,

Our cars are gonna be hot

When you let it sit there

For about five hours and your seat is leather

Your bottom will really burn.

I like trees

Because there are a lot

Of different kinds of trees,

Like an Apple tree.

When you look through your window,

What do you see?

Lots of trees.

When you look through a car window,

What will you see?

Trees of course.

Every country

In the world

Has a lot of trees.

Why not plant and water trees?

Ode to a Toy

Alondra F.

Among the store it

is sitting there

glowing, shining,

sitting in a nice, clean

spot, all by itself,

waiting for some-

one to go

pick it up!

It's all alone

with no one!

Begging for someone

to buy it. I

take a step forward

to the glowing, sparkling

toy. I have it in

my hands and

now this

toy is

all mine.