Jungle Gym Cherry Park 5-20-09 1 (Photo credit: stevendepolo)
You’ve taught me a lot of good lessons
You’ve taught me to be braver than I am
To swing out as far as I can
To keep pushing forward
To move one step at a time
To fall into a heap in the dirt
And then get up and try again
Monkey Bars, you’ve shown me the stars
By Diego, 4th grade
Image via Wikipedia
Dance like your feet want
Dance like the color red
Dance like a summer night
Dance like hot sauce
Dance like you love yourself
Dance like your hair’s on fire
Dance like there’s no tomorrow
Dance like there is a tomorrow
and you’ll see me
by Ebony, 16
by Brent
In Houston it almost never snows.
You have to be really patient.
I don’t recommend you hold your breath
unless your name is Houdini.
In Houston it almost never snows.
But when it does, the city shuts down.
An inch makes us crazy.
Snow is bigger than the Super Bowl.
But don’t hold your breath.
By Samson, 4th grade
Image via Wikipedia
Before I got sick, I used to play soccer. I liked it because you run a lot, and the exercise feels good. I would play with one of my friends. My favorite position was goalie.
I grew up hearing about soccer. My older brothers play, and I used to go to tournaments.
I like the team Chivas from Guadalajara, Mexico. I’ve seen them play on TV. One day I’d like to meet a player from that team.
Someday I hope I’ll play soccer again. Someday.
By Orlando, 19
Image via Wikipedia
Once there was a guy who was breakdancing when suddenly, he squeezed through a door and did a back flip onto a skyscraper. Then he jumped onto the roof of a saloon and cartwheeled into a house. Inside he skipped around a room, rolled onto a bed, crawled up a chimney, and began to spin his way toward home. The whole time someone was jumping behind him, begging, “Do the moonwalk! Do the moonwalk!” So, the boy did the moonwalk and then tumbled onto his bed and fell asleep.
By Peyton, 4th grade
Image by roger4336 via Flickr
When WITS writers teach a lesson, they don’t have to look far for inspiration. WITS writers understand that everything in the world is up for grabs when it comes to engaging subject matter. We encourage children to look at the world around them and pick objects and activities that resonate with what they like to do.
I remember one 3rd grade boy named Sebastian who could never think of new subject matter. He often complained that he didn’t want to write “dumb poems about flowers and stars.” So, I asked him what he liked to do and found out he loves to ride his bike. The following week I brought him a poem called “Ode to Bicycles” by Pablo Neruda. Neruda’s poem didn’t have a magical effect on Sebastian’s poetic output (he still had a hard time getting started), but it did seem to surprise him.
May is National Bicycle Month, and I always think of Sebastian and wonder where he is and what he is writing about as a teenager. In honor of Sebastian, here is another bicycle poem.
Maybe Alone On My Bike
I listen, and the mountain lakes
hear snowflakes come on those winter wings
only the owls are awake to see,
their radar gaze and furred ears
alert. In that stillness a meaning shakes;
And I have thought (maybe alone
on my bike, quaintly on a cold
evening pedaling home), Think!–
the splendor of our life, its current unknown
as those mountains, the scene no one sees.
O citizens of our great amnesty:
we might have died. We live. Marvels
coast by, great veers and swoops of air
so bright the lamps waver in tears,
and I hear in the chain a chuckle I like to hear.
by Marcia Chamberlain, Writers in the Schools
I dream of the beat of a basketball
The excitement behind a dunk
The pause after the last shot
The adrenaline rush after a three-pointer
I dream of being on fire when it’s cold
And winning the finals
And being an all star
I dream of basketball
by Jacob, 4th grade
This poem is featured as part of the 2011 A Poem A Day campaign, a National Poetry Month celebration by WITS that features a different poem by a WITS student every day during April. Click on the logo to learn more.
I didn’t always live in the house I do now. I used to live in a smaller, cozier, white house with just my mom and dad and me. Then, when we figured out that we needed a bigger house, it was time to move. Now our house is as big as an old movie theater. Now our house has six people and a baby screaming. Screaming so loud that I want to jump up and down and do cartwheels. But our house is not like other houses. Ours is special. It has old violet, red, and brown bricks and old gutters painted green. My room is blue like the sky, and my bed is pink. Pink as lemonade, sweet and sour together. Our house has old antiques that creak like an old man in a rocking chair. When I am in this house, sometimes I feel crowded. I can’t go to my room with the sky blue walls and pink lemonade beds because my sister shares it with me. Sometimes I am bored. Same routine, nothing to do, nowhere to go.
By Annmarie, 4th grade
Photo by Yle is dreaming via Flickr
is red
like Mars, like lava
in a hot volcano,
is old, like a
Grandpa’s gray hair
on the floor of a barber shop,
is deflated,
like an old car tire,
like its own tires,
is beat up, like a
fighter after a long hard
fight or a favorite pair of
sneakers no longer nice and bright.
By Chloe, 5th grade
Photo by funebre via Flickr
One day I had no idea where we were going in the car and my mom said it was a surprise. Then, almost twenty minutes later, we came to these big green spaces. They had white lines around them and only certain people could go inside them. Apparently, I was one of the people who could go inside the lines. Then my mom asked me to go meet a bunch of people gathered in the middle. I heard all these people saying my name and I had no idea who they were. Then I met this really tall guy that looked like he was eighteen feet tall. He said, “Feel the grass. It’s so soft.” I bent down and it really was soft and the air smelled really good because of the concession stand. Then I kicked something and it went into something that looked like a cave, but it was light inside. Then a crowd of people started cheering and another crowd of people were making a booing noise. After the surprise all the other people and I went over to have cake. The cake tasted like hot chocolate on a winter day. Then I went home tired and went to sleep.
By Madeline, 3rd grade
Photo by Jim Corwin via Flickr
I was born in Gamma’s house and every time I spend the
night there she wakes up and cooks me sausage and grits.
I have a nephew named Jaden who I play ball with. My
favorite things to do are eat, watch TV, and play video games
all day. My favorite video game is Teenage Mutant Ninja
Turtle Smash Up and Spiderman 1. My favorite subject is
math because it’s easy. Last summer
I went to Camp Periwinkle,
Houston Space Center, and
Schlitterbahn. At Schlitterbahn there was a
pirate ship that drops water on you and makes you forget
everything, but it didn’t make me forget because I am
hydro-dynamically designed. It was awesome!
By Memphis,
Age 8
Photo by Brandt Williams via Flickr
It’s hot here, so far from Managua.
The sun fell out of the raining clouds.
And now I’m drinking lemonade.
The ice clinks into the sound
of kids screaming down
slides and in the pools.
The sea is a light blue
like the sky over your house
in the afternoons.
My hotel is named Atlantis,
but I’m not going to sink into the ocean.
By Miguel, 3rd grade
Originally published on December 14, 2009.
This poem is featured as part of the 2009 A Poem A Day campaign, a National Poetry Month celebration by WITS that features a different poem by a WITS student every day during April. Click on the logo to the left to learn more.
I love you.
When I’m far from you I miss you.
I will show you how to defend yourself.
I will show you how to play baseball and soccer.
I will show you how to behave.
I will show you how to love.
I will show you how to miss someone.
I will show you dodge ball
and to comprehend it all.
I will show you how to be nice.
and how to make friends.
Get away from the enemies.
Be smart.
I will show you how to cook
and how to ride a bike.
I will show you how to be a good brother.
By Genesis, 4th grade
[photo by Job Garcia via flickr]
Since I was little, I’ve loved gymnastics. I would practice doing flips and cartwheels at home, even when I was six. I remember once when I was trying to do a flip, I fell on my head. It scared me out of doing it for awhile, but then I got up courage and started doing it again. Even when gymnastics is hard, I love it. It makes me feel free and happy. When I flip, I can feel the wind. It’s a cool feeling.
The problem with gymnastics is that I can’t always do it. I have sickle cell so it prevents me from doing what I love the most. This is really hard. I used to ask my dad if I could do ice skating or ballet, but I couldn’t because of my condition. I remember once in 4th grade I had low blood count and I had to go to the hospital. So, I was expecting a talk from my dad telling me I can’t do activities like gymnastics anymore. When he gave it to me, I felt sad. Whenever I would see gymnasts on TV, I would cry. It’s hard to deal with something like that when you’re so young. My sisters continued to do gymnastics and that would bring a smile to my face. I would learn from what they were doing and practicing. But inside I felt like why couldn’t I be doing that with them?
I have big dreams like going to the Olympics, but my sickle cell is an obstacle. Now it’s up and down because sometimes I can do it and sometimes I can’t. Yesterday was a good day for me. I went to gymnastics and it felt great to be tumbling again. When I turned around I saw my mom smiling and I felt happy. I hope that I can continue gymnastics throughout my life because it always brings joy to me. I will pray to God that he will guide me through this sickle cell and not let me get sick. I want to run, jump, somersault, and flip my way to happiness.
by Mojisola, age 13
photo by Ida-Maria Lehto via flickr
