Addams Elementary School
First Time with My Dog
He came to me with a big
baloney tongue, licking and licking.
His fur so soft and warm, so tender that
I love him so. I really do, I said.
poem and artwork by Rosamaria C.
First Time with My Dog
He came to me with a big
baloney tongue, licking and licking.
His fur so soft and warm, so tender that
I love him so. I really do, I said.
poem and artwork by Rosamaria C.
Homework
My work has been done
to experience the city.
The big city sits in
land. Far away from Chicago
sits Texas. To day
dream far away in a
land of big. Bigger than an
ocean. My eyes fold to
see a surprise so big.
I start to think I own
that place. I feel like I’ve
even been there.
poem by Jonathan R.
artwork by Jonathan R.
A Four Finger Hand
I am a four-finger hand.
I am always alone with no way
to attach to an arm. Lying in a
dusty bed, I have goosebumps still
waiting for my other finger to
grow. But I guess it won’t
since I’ve been waiting almost a year.
poem by Fernando L.
artwork by Gloria L.
Confused
Confused is a man who loves to eat moldy bananas. He is a cross eyed pig who flies through the air at 6:02 in the morning. The weather he likes is sweaty hot summer. His job is a janitor who smells like garbage. Confused loves to go to a muddy river on the weekends.
poem by Nadia J.
image by Caroline H
Mixed Magic
Clock of demise
A day of rain
A night of sun
A castle made of fog
A flag of brave men
A sunken treasure of things for you to read
poem by Maria A.
artwork by Julia C.
What a strange shadow.
Big fat tall scared and strong, open
the door,
Father is shadow maker.
poem and artwork by Rose C.
Dear Tree,
Tree! Where were you
yesterday? I miss you.
My friend Book, he told
me all about you.
I hope you come back
soon so we could have
a big party today at 5:45
Your friend, Air
poem by Loc N.
artwork by Janel L.
Lake Michigan
At day there are big machines
And a big sun on top--
Blue water.
At night it’s dark
With stars shining down at me
And fishes swimming inside of
me--
Lake Michigan.
In winter I’m frozen
Feet step on my while skating
And I can’t see the sun.
Come fall I’m cold
Full of orange and brown leaves.
No people.
In the spring I warm up--
People take little fish out of my
water
And as the trees start to get really
green
People start to swim in me--
Lake Michigan.
poem by Miriam Q.
artwork by Airrion H.
Summer
I am hidden. I am your
memory. Seven eight nine swing
back in time to see the
line that rhymes.
Summer is alike a blazing
Desert in the mist nightmare
Monsters here and there up in
The sky things cry the ground
Is tainted stained with flesh
think and winked you are linked.
poem by Brandon B.
artwork by Dave G.
Poem for Oscar Brown Jr.
Oscar Brown sings
classic jazz
love songs
slow, soft, deep
like Lake Michigan
bordering tall, wide
buildings holding people
who dance to work song.
poem by Sernetra S.
artwork by Rischard F.
Theory of Why Water is Blue
The water has the blues.
She’s unhappy.
When the water washes up
She is singing her blues.
She is cold. She wants people to
come to her. The water is blue.
poem by Yolanda C.
artwork by Loren G.
A Book Sounding Like a Bomb
A book sounding
like a bomb,, a leaf
sounding like a cat
is crying. The wind
howls like a howling
dog, but that's okay.
A dog barking wet,
mus smells so bad,
and the air is clean
as my room, but that's
as cool as a cooler
and as wet as wood.
poem and artwork by Yolondte E.
I'm a boy
I'm a man in Mexico
I'm a bible
I'm a car racer
I'm a pie face
I'm a shark
And a hot dog
Cause I'm burned
poem by Benjamin M.
art by Soryane S.
When lightness comes up
and the moon disappears
see nothing but sun
poem by Whitney T.
artwork by Tiara C.
Some Ways of Looking at a Cow
Among five plains
The only thing you see
Is a purple cow
The purple cow
Ran
In the summer hotness
One bird
And twenty cows
Which to pick,
Myself or a purple cow?
Grasses filled
With dirty dirt.
The purple cow
Moved it to and fro.
O good women of New York!
Why do you imagine red cows!
Don’t you see the beauty
Of the purple cow?
poem by Alanna B
artwork by Nicholas M.
My brother was a baby
my mom was the only one
with just one or two sandwiches
and water through the desert
with my brother coming
from Mexico struggling
to come to the United
States. But here’s my
mom with my brother.
poem by Henry C.
artwork by Eugenio R.
Age
Jogging along the beach
youth is holding on by its
fingertips. Night has arrived.
Get home as fast
as you can and sleep.
poem by Jacqueline A.
artwork by Nicole W.
I’m from an open book
from the erased pencil writing.
I’m from the torn pillows
and the insomniac full moon.
I’m from the seven days and fourteen nights.
From the lazy afternoons and gloomy evenings
where life passes through.
poem by Vladimir S.
artwork by Brigid S.
I draw a window,
and an old man is sitting on a rocking chair.
He's rocking in his rocking
chair.
If I put an old woman it
would be a picture of forgetting.
If I draw a picture of
the old woman rocking in the
rocking chair it's remembering.
If she's rocking faster
she's thinking.
The man and the woman are
thinking of each other.
poem and artwork by Oswaldo L.