Author Archives: Kristina McDonald

Zeus

You are the leafless trees That refuse to shade me You are the dark, looming sky That strikes fear into the hearts of many However, you are not the snow-capped mountains With immense beauty The clouds that run over them They are not you You are a goddess Serving Zeus But I am Zeus Ruling [...]

Querida hermanita (Dear Little Sister)

Querida hermanita, tu cabello es tan brillante como las estrellas. Tus manos son tan suaves como las plumas de los pájaros. Tus ojos son tan claros como el agua del mar, y tus labios son tan rojos como las rosas. Tus orejas tienen aretes que parecen como joyas amarillas, muy brillantes. Tu sonrisa es tan [...]

Get Your Poem a Day YOUR Way

April is just around the corner and WITS is ready to celebrate National Poetry Month with our annual A Poem A Day campaign. Starting next Friday, WITS will offer one poem written by a WITS student each day. Here are some ways you can participate: * Receive the WITS poem every morning in your email. [...]

Where Are We Now: Kristina McDonald

I have had nearly 9,000 lunches in my lifetime. Some have been out of a paper bag or a Star Wars lunch box. Some have been at fancy restaurants that serve food that I can’t pronounce. I’ve had a hamburger in a revolving restaurant, and I had a chicken basket once in an underground cavern. [...]

Advice from a Nest

Always stay strong for the younger ones Don’t crack your twigs when everyone’s asleep Don’t fall apart when no one is there Don’t let someone fall through or you’ll get hurt too Always pick a good spot to be made in Always blend in so bigger birds won’t get the smaller ones Always say good-bye [...]

I See Beautiful Leaves and a Flying Bird

Going to the bright sun. Their ideas are blank With the background orange. All they can think of Is words, words, words. By Lance, 4th grade [photo by cosmonautirussi via flickr]

Speak

Once I spoke the language of dogs. Once I understood their happy barks. Once I smiled a dog’s smile. Once I heard a high-pitched sound. Once I spoke the language of dogs. How did it go? How did it go? By Andrew, 2nd grade [photo by nybird via flickr]

When I Become An Artist

When I become an artist I will paint pictures of hot Houston summers The days of construction and the banging of a hammer when a house is being built on my street The endless days of heat and people jumping on the concrete without shoes The different animals that creep and buzz at night The [...]

Toes

Being down here, we don’t see much. We’re always covered and hidden by socks and shoes, as if we’re too embarrassing for you to look at. But sometimes, when you’re feeling daring, we can feel the rough grittiness of the cement sidewalk, can feel the heat radiating from it on a warm summer day. We’re [...]

WITS is Hiring Creative Writing Teachers

Writers in the Schools (WITS) is looking for writers and educators who can teach the joy of creative writing to young people.  Employment is part-time, typically 2-6 hours of teaching, one day a week from September – May.  A yearlong commitment is required. The pay is $55 per teaching hour.  In addition to teaching, the [...]

Top Posts for May 2010

Ode to Poetry Skateboarding The Color Pink by Sarah Ode to Summer Spiral Poem Ode to Chocolate I am a Seashell Who I Am Ode to the Color Black Colors and Blah I Am Like a Flower I Am Somalia Yellow Poetry Takes Shape

New Life

I strolled across the ocean, where I waited for new life to rise above the horizon. By Felicia, 7th grade

He Drinks Water Yellow, She Has Hair Yellow

My shoes are yellow. The animals are yellow. The grass is yellow. I love my brother because he helps me with homework and gives me things. He drinks water yellow. My book is yellow. The computer is orange. She has hair yellow. I know that my mom loves me because She kisses me and tickles [...]

Menil Reading Tonight at 7:00 PM

Writers in the Schools and The Menil Collection will present The Watchful Eye, a reading in response to the Torres-Garcia and Cattelan exhibitions, tonight at 7:00 PM in the museum foyer. The reading will feature both WITS students and University of Houston students from their undergraduate literary magazine Glass Mountain. Join us for a night [...]

Down the Street

The old man turns to edge the grass, throwing grass in every direction. But the grass that goes uncut grows taller than the person living there. Meanwhile, the house down the street is the shape of a capital A, like it is leaning against the wind. By Colin, 9th grade [photo by noahness via flickr]

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