Check out these newly collected poems from Cassie Sparkman's residency at George Armstrong School of International Studies:
In Your Spiral Dream
by: Yvette B.
You are jump roping but your left
shoe came off. You try to jump
and get the shoe at the same time.
The rope was turning fast like
a fan’s sharp wings.
It spins so fast that it can do
a blender’s job.
You try to reach more for the
shoe, but now you are reaching
for your sister. You are in the
mountains. Your sister is about to
drop down on the sharp rocks.
You pull with all your might
and promise not to let go.
You catch the shoe
but lose your balance.
The rope stops and that
is the end of the game.
Test of Terror
by: Neel G.
You are at Armstrong school for taking a test. You fill in the bubble for “c” under number 13. You read question 22 and your mind goes blank. Silence. Confusion. Panic. You don’t know what to do. You fill in the bubble for “a” and then erase it. You look at the teacher. Grading papers. You sneak a glance at your friend’s paper. You see that he has filled in answer choice “b” and decide to do the same. Your paper goes up in flames. You scream. The teacher looks up. He turns into a demon and eats you up. You are trapped. You feel the demon’s insides and search for a way out.
Poem
by: Mirian C.
Pay attention young lady. Study for your test. Be quiet. Be on task. Why didn’t you do your homework? Don’t talk in line. Don’t play in class. Don’t talk over me. You know you need to bring gym clothes on Tuesday. Don’t come to school out of uniform. But it was dirty. Come prepared to school. Eat fresh food. Clean the classroom. Get your things ready to go. You need to earn your recess back. No 20 minute period. Face forward - don’t look back. Don’t forget to do your homework. This is how you make a business letter. Be quiet - that’s why you don’t have your pizza party. But I was not talking. This is how you talk to an adult. Raise your hand if you want to talk. Don’t try to insult my intelligence. Stop talking. 50 lines. Don’t approach my desk without permission.
Poem
by: Jsahanta P.
Keep your hands and feet to yourself. Don’t hit people because they might hit you back. Don’t talk too close to other people’s faces, you might share spit. Don’t tickle anyone in public, it isn’t polite. I would never tickle anyone and especially not in public. Sit up straight or your spine will curve. Brush your teeth because the color yellow is not pretty, and morning breath doesn’t smell fresh. I always brush my teeth and I floss too!
Poem
by: Juana V.
She is a princess
In modern times
Her dress
A majestic pink
She is riding
On her faithful horse
Who has a distinguishable birthmark
That reaches from the tip of his snout
To his eyes
They are galloping
Around a field
That is preparing itself
For winter
Clinging Love
by: Elyse E.
The sun is out
The heat is rising.
A man is struggling.
He struggles with two
boys like spiders
clinging hard onto him.
He doesn’t know why
they do this.
He can’t see and is
getting hot.
The boys laugh
and stay there.
They won’t move
Everyone stares.
He doesn’t care.
He loves the clinging
boys on him.
Secrets
by: Turverse D.
Your secrets keep me
safe but go around
the world
the secret sounds the
same somehow
the words wander
off like sand that
flies in your face
when the secret
comes back to you
all the words will
be very new
Embarrassing
by: Ivy S.
I remember how my mom
always tells the story of how
much I used to cry when I was a
baby. I always feel like exploding.
She compares me with my half baby brother
that I cried more than he does.
Now I know she is my mom
and all but moms can be really
embarrassing if you think about it.
Why can’t they understand there are
some things that just should not be
said like when we were babies.
My mom should know
I am my own person.
Poem
by: Dammy A.
I remember on week-
days when I had to
wake up early in the mor-
ning and go to a far away
school from my house
I would be cranky every
morning and I would be mad
at every-
one, I would go to school with-
out eating. I remember I
would stay in the car for a
long time doing nothing
until I got to school.
But then I moved now every-
thing is much better.
Poem
by: Miguel S.
I remember every morning at
3 am my father woke m-
e up to go to work
with him he always ma-
de me do the same
things so that I could
be perfect at them
he always made me obs-
erve him so that I could
get better every time
and every time succeed
ing well sometimes
I messed up
once in a while.
Hate
by: Usman I.
Hate is a man
who’s heart is black
as night.
Hate is a thunderstorm
which won’t
let kids go outside to
play.
Hate is the mortal
enemy of joy.
Hate has superpowers
which could break hard
concrete walls.
Hate is a shadow of
a man who got into
a fight with his
wife.
Hate is a man working
at K-Mart who is
upset because
of his monthly salary.
Hate is everywhere, it
is inside of you but
you can’t see it.
Shame
by: Cesar G.
Shame is a Father who couldn’t provide for his family so the only thing that he was necessary was to sell drugs. Shame is a sandwich from the homeless shelter. Shame is also a boy who needs guidance from a father that he never had. He thinks negative about everything, and relies on what he sees in the streets. Shame is a person who drops out of high school. Shame is the drug dealer you see in your area, or local street corner. He is the addict who would do anything to get their hand’s on what they need. SHAME IS ME.
Anger
by: Christina L. and Herbert I.
Anger is like the midnight sky above a black dark scary castle that looks like it has bats guarding something from raging out. Anger is like a black hole that has a tornado coming out of it. It feels like one itchy black sweater trying to scratch something. It tastes like chitlins when they aren’t cooked. Anger is just like a villain that has rays coming out of its eyes beaming on somebody very hard and its job is to wipe out everyone in the world but it waits in a dark…cold…grimy basement waiting to be disturbed.
Jealousy
by: Eleanor C.
Jealousy is the woman
who never had enough.
She is that leopard skin
dress you dyed to look
regal. Jealousy is that
lioness who took over
your pride, now laying
on your rock.
Jealousy is that
brand new car that’s
parked across the street.
She is the earthquake
who measures past the last.
Jealousy can read your
mind and knows just
what you want – that
shiny name on a record
label that your sister got.
Jealousy is that bedroom
just messier than your
brother’s.
The Nightmare in the Spirit
by: Chris P.
You get on your knees and pray to God that he protects you through the night but a spirit comes in unannounced and destroys that prayer so God can’t get the message. You say “Amen” and climb into bed. “I got you now” the spirit says and it gets into bed with you. You close your eyes, he hovers over you waiting and waiting to make sure you are asleep. Two other demons climb in the bed so you can’t move. You dream of that girl you loved from the day you saw her. You pucker your lips to kiss her and then, she disappears. It grows dark, blood falls from the ceiling. You’re scared someone is behind you breathing down your neck. You run. The scene changes. You’re in a big warehouse. It’s quiet no sound at all. You see a man on a throne his clothes a black cloak. “I’m back!” the mysterious man says as he runs at you. He takes out a blade and he knocks you to the floor. He swings back to kill you but your soul comes to protect you. He sounds a trumpet to God. God hears it and speeds to you and vanquishes the demons. The mysterious man disappears in the shadows. You cry out loud. Your mom comes in and wakes you up. You cry you’ve been asleep. God watches you as he rocks your spirit to sleep.
Anxiety
by: Jonathan K.
Anxiety is the black dressed man, worrying about what the next place he goes will be. He worries about the government, no matter who is in office. He is the fearful rabbit, wondering where his predators are. He is the rotten food that someone just ate. He is the man unprepared at the battlefront, wondering if they will kill him or let him be. He is the musty basement that no one wants to enter. He is the laser-eye vision that has just shot someone through the stomach.
Comments