Each Public Poetry event features a student from Writers in the Schools (WITS) reading their original poetry.

 

Ode to the Library
by Morgan Hesters

I open the door,
It is
silent.

I walk to the
shelf.

Thump, Thump
My feet echo.

I find my book. Thump, Thump.
I walk to a table.
I find a warm corner.
Sunlight comes over me,
like a yellow bubble.
In I go?

Adventuring with Percy and
Annabeth.
Back to shelf.
Found another one. In Puppy
Place with Lizzie and Charles
All done! Back to shelf.

Here we are, another one.
Bakc to table.
Thump, Thump.
Gone to the rodeo with Kylie Jean.

Back again. Glance at clock. It’s
almost 5! Please just one book more!

Race to shelf. One last time.
Thumpata,
Thumpata, Thump! Screeching halt.
Scan
the shelf. Grab the book. Race to
table.
Open book. Time flies.
Chapter 5.

Mom comes in. Time to go!
Check out book. Dragging feet.

In the car. Buckle up. Watch sadly
out the window as the library flies
out
of sight.
Wishes
by Jonah Webster

I am swift and calm.
I wonder if dreams could be real.
I hear the swirl of a rain shower.
I see the world as a drop of rain.
I want to make plants thrive.
I am swift and calm.
I want to make dreams real.
I seek a dragon’s scale.
I worry about world hunger
I cry if a plant species dies.
I am swift and calm.
I wish that dreams could be real
dream of mythology.
I say, “Every second of your life counts.
Use it wisely.”
I try to make people kind to plants.
I hope I can create a species of anything.
I am swift and calm.
The Hallway of Absent-Mindeness
by Jonah Webster

Your life is a trance
Walking
Getting faster in this endless swirl
You can’t escape
Every sound being washed away
You can’t think
Spots in a cartoon spiral
Just keep on walking
In the freezing day and burning night
In your senseless world
Like a dream
No happiness
Nor sadness
Just walking,
Walking,
Walking.
It is Turning into a Winter Wonderland
by Matlida Acosta

Winter has Sparkle,
Winter has Snow, Winter also has Glow.
It is turning into a Winter Wonderland.

Winter has presents
with nice bright ribbons all wrapped up.
It is turning into a Winter Wonderland.

Houses are white now
with sleigh-bells ring-a-ling-ing
It is turning into a Winter Wonderland.

Look at that tree with the star on top!
Oh, I love that day when I come down to play!
It is turning into a Winter Wonderland.

With that candy cane in your stocking
and gumdrops barely melting.
It is turning into, it’s turning into,
it’s turning into…
a Winter Wonderland!
My Letter to the Earth
by Matilda Acosta

Dear Earth, I want to tell you what I did this summer. You will never believe what I did!

I rode a spaceship to the moon!

I think you could see me up there and if you did, tell Mars I said “hi!”

Then I rocketed down to Hawaii. I landed on the beach and rode a dolphin named Grace. Then a guy named Gabriel offered me a free ride in his helicopter when I asked him where we were going, he said we would land Mexico.

There I saw a famous Spanish dancer, Sarah. When she saw me after the show she asked me if I wanted to learn her best dance moves. My heart stopped! I was so excited, so I said “yes, of course!” After she taught me, I looked at my watch and it was already 2pm. I told her I had to go. I got her phone number just in case I wanted to call her to learn how to dance.

Then I stopped and ate some lunch, and got some tamales to go! A guy named Miguel found a ticket for Africa. He said, “if you want, I could give it to you.” I said “Sure!” so he gave it to me.

Once I got there, I saw how the culture of the native people worked. I rode an elephant and I climbed the highest trees and swung with the monkeys.

I looked at my watch and sure enough, it was time for dinner. So I flew back to Houston Texas and got to the dinner table just in time! The end.

 
Ray-ray
by Deronisha Arceneaux

You are all grown
And strong now, 22
23 in April, Jumping from college
to work
Ray-ray I know you’re a busy guy,
Trying to maintain a
Successful life,
Not as if it doesn’t come
Naturally.

Ray-ray I can’t help but to think
About those times of
Combining my Barbie’s
With your wrestling men

Our imagination was so strong,
We actually, truly, and really lived it,

I remember when we use to pretend
that we were like the characters of
final fantasy roaming through the
house pretending to fight impossible
creatures.

Names like the sacrificer will never efface
My memory

You’re my best friend, I don’t think I
would be half the person I am if it
wasn’t for you.

All those late nights of secret telling,
We were always the first ones to know
Any thing about each other.

Ray-ray I wish it could remain that
way, because now it seems to me I call
When I only need.

Ray-ray I’m sure you know that’s not
the case, but you know how your pebe
chicken is always overthinking any situation.

We have priceless memories but
Many traditions are now broken,
Like sleeping together on Christmas Eve,
while listening to Christmas music.

Often my bestfriends are jealous
because they wish they had a
relationship with their siblings like
how I have with you.

Trust me Ray-ray I know I’m never at
home on weekends but Ray-ray we’re
going to make this work.

Ray-ray I pray that one day I can raise
my son how mama raised you so that
my son can be exactly like you to help,
teach, and treat his little sister,
Like how you did
Me.

 
I Was Shaped This Way
By Deronisha Arceneaux

I was just a little girl
Still skinny, burettes with twirls
My mama brand me to be picky, smart, and clean
It was proven by the age of thirteen
Raised on the Southeast side
Where drugs and violence deprive.
I always tell my self I have to get out the hood.
Before one day I be misunderstood.
Story starts on saint low
When our house was broke into by the back doe
Moved off of Airport and MLK at eight
To find that kids stayed out too late.
Bike racings to the stop sign
Eating spicy pickles in the wintertime.
Around 2007 all the kids moved off the street and I was left with a kink.
My mom continuously bought pets to settle my boredness
They became pregnant and I had to aboard them.
Daddy came home from jail at dark
Made it up to me at Astroworld Park.
Our life was put back on track
Because all of the feelings came back.
Went up to Iowa to spend the summer.
Got into a fight with my cousins, what a bummer.
Never knew my accent was strong
Until I was judged wrong.
Spent a lot of time in Louisiana
It is so country
I felt way too clever.
Middle school hit
I was present in a bunch of filth
First years of track
I wish I could rewind them back. Sixth grade was my best year
Because I always had a bunch of cheer. Now im there at YWCPA
And all of my
Thoughts, experiences, and memories
Are still at display.

 
The Pirate and the Tree
by Chinyere Akuechiama
4th grade at St. Christopher’s

There once was a pirate
Brave and bold
Till he sailed across the sea
And found some gold.

He dug the X to find the key
Then he thought
Who will I be?

He found the key
Then opened the treasure
And then his parrot said
What a pleasure

He saw it was green and brown too
Then the pirate said
What shall I do?

He took it out very gently
Then his parrot said
That’s not plenty

Then he thought
Is it a bee?
No said the parrot
It’s a tree

 
The Ocean
by Jimmy Phan – 4th Grade St. Christopher’s

The ocean is big
The ocean is blue
It has a lot of fish
More than you.

The fish are small
The plankton are green
They are so small
They are the size of a jellybean.

Fish are big
Fish are small
Fish are short
Fish are tall.

Fish are green
Fish are red
When they go to sleep
They don’t have a bed.

There is a Pacific Ocean
It is very big, too
There is also the Atlantic
And it’s big, round and blue.

 
JonathanNice
by Jonathan S.
3rd grade at St. Mark’s Episcopal School

Funny
Smart
Wishes to go to Heaven
Dreams of helping the poor
Wants to travel to every place in the world
Who wonders what’s inside a black hole
Who fears evil
Who likes God
Who believes in Jesus
Who loves my mom
Who plans to be an artist
I like myself!

 
The Declaration
by Jonathan S.
3rd grade at St. Mark’s Episcopal School

The Declaration is as loud as an elephant.
It’s as bumpy as a road and smells as bad as a sewer.
It probably tastes as bad as a rotten apple.
It was written by Thomas Jefferson, one of the best men ever.
The Declaration is very, very famous.
Fifty two people signed it.
It was written for our independence.

 
Wolves
by Jasmine Maldonado
5th Grade at St. Christopher’s Catholic School

Wolves are nice creatures
They can be pets
But they are wild animals
And they hate the vet.
Wolves are friendly
They are like dogs.
Wolves sleep long
And they sleep like a log!

 
St. Christopher School
by Yasmine Ortiz
5th Grade

St. Christopher School is very cool.
I’m very glad this school is not bad.
Our classes are good.
We are always in a good mood.
No scary stories
We don’t have worries.
We really love this cool school.

 
Life
by Jacob Martinez
5th Grade at St. Christopher’s Catholic School

Life is long.
Life can be a song.
You shouldn’t do anything wrong.
In life there’s a time to play.
In life there’s a time to say.
You should say hey.

 
About My School
by Kiutza Leija
5th Grade

St. Christopher is a good school.
The students here are kind.
The activities we do are cool.
We have great minds.

 
Robyn Bria Adams
A High School Senior, Robin Bria Adams, already has a long list of accomplishments to her credit including: representing Houston, Texas in the Semi-Finals at the 2011 Brave New Voices 14th Annual International Youth Poetry Slam Festival and being crowned the 2011 Brave New Voices International MC Olympics Champion at the UC Berkeley Chevron Auditorium – International House; San Francisco, California (July 22, 2011); Authored collection of poetry (2009 – 2011); Performed Original Poetry and Christian Raps; Outbreak Youth Ministry Events; Windsor Village United Methodist Church; Houston, Texas (July 2010).

Recess
by Robyn Bria Adams

I wish I could burn these scars into ashes,
that resemble sand-boxes where we first met.
See,
we had that elementary type of love.
That check yes or no box type of connection—
That you shared your oreos with me
at lunchtime type of affection.
We carved our names into sidewalks
just so we could say we walked with love.
That was back when
we used to be scared of our own shadows
so we tried convincing ourselves we were someone worth following.
See its funny how simple things use to be,
between you and me.
I was a jungle gym you were my high beams that held me into place.
Often times I forgot that I couldn’t stand without you.
See,
gravity played cupid with our hearts,
making us fall for each other.
This wasn’t part of the plan because I fell so hard
that I forgot to teach myself how to land.
I thought we had that ken and barbie type of love.
But looking back on it,
Its kind of funny how we’re attracted to something so fake.
Because you grew up to be a player
and I was your cello.
I just wanted to be held but instead you string me along,
playing heart broken notes that produce painful symphonies.
While I tried to stay composed.
See, Love had a different meaning back then.
You made my heart play hopscotch
and skip beats like scratch cd’s.
While I played monkey bars on your rib cages trying to cling to your heart.
But I see these ice cream relationships always seem to melt away.
So maybe when were old and gray.
We’ll look back and say
or pray at another day to play
at recess.

 
Young Pilgrim, India, 1980
by David Avent

Look at my red and yellow scar.
It tells a story of my past.
Look in my eyes.
They tell a story about me.
My eyes carry a clue to what happened to me.
I am a survivor.
I am tougher than I look.
I carry a scar around on my forehead.
I am from India.
I have seen horrible deaths.
My brothers and sisters died.
That doesn’t stop me.

 
Going to Cuba
by David Avent

I will leave Houston
on a very good note.
I will go to Cuba,
walk in the 90 degree heat.
I will go to Cuba,
dance in the streets for fun.
I will go to Cuba,
make beans out of scratch.
I will go to Cuba,
swim in the warm, blue water.
I will go to Cuba,
learn how to speak espanol.
I will go to Cuba,
eat plantains for breakfast.
I will go to Cuba.
It will be gorgeous at night.

 
My name is Jemma
by Jemma Leech, age 10

My name is Jemma
J is the jewelled night sky
under which I was born;
E is the entirety of the universe
which gave me life;
M is the magic which burns
in my soul and in my eyes;
M is the moment of stillness
in each day when I see the future;
A is the alchemy in my heart
which turns brass experiences
into gold memories.
My name is Jemma
About Ike
Three poems in tribute to all who sat listening

 
Waiting for Ike
by Jemma Leech
September 11th, 2008

My mom is rattled.
She walks a worn path
From computer to kitchen to TV to computer
Checking each update
On storm surge and storm watch and storm track.

She pockets scribbled lists:
Raisins
Cereal
Flashlights
Milk

She talks a new language
Of dirty sides and uncertainty cones
And has new acquaintances to gossip about to her friends –
Gustav, Carla, Allison, Rita, and now Ike,
(But no gossip about Katrina, just low-voiced awe).

She sends texts of concern
And makes reassuring phonecalls
To family in non-tropical waters
Playing down the danger
While losing sleep herself.

Outside the air is hot and still.
The clouds are light and high
In the clean blue canopy
But Ike is coming
And we are waiting.

 
Listening to Ike
by Jemma Leech
September 25th, 2008

From inside my ply-pillowed place,
I listen.

The horns of thunder blaze in furious fanfare,
The lightning shrieks in sharp discordance,
The complex percussion of rain and wind,
Branch, pole and rocking fence
Beats the rhythm of the storm
In a different universe,
Out there, beyond.

The bayous surge in counterpoint
To the rumbling current,
They break their banks
In the sliding slippage of tacit destruction,
And the movement seeps to silence by daybreak
In a different universe,
Out there, beyond.

From inside my quiet-quilted sanctuary,
I listen.

 
After Ike
by Jemma Leech
September 29th, 2008

Far out in the Gulf under cloudless blue skies
The turtle soars free on warm currents
Flying beneath sea-clouds of flotsam and jetsam,
Debris of shattered lives unknown.

As she reaches the shallows
Where frothing waters lap on the shore of hell,
Her carapace catches with silver fire
As she drags herself up the moon-soaked sand.

This beach has been her birthright
Since the dawn of the turtles,
As it will be for her daughters
In millennia to come.

For the island’s sweet song,
Not quenched, just softened,
Calls again to her children
And they will come home,
Like the turtles,
To Galveston’s heavenly shore.

 
My neighbor, Jack
By Jemma Leech
June 24th, 2009

When he pulled my hair,
I hated him.
When he pushed me out of the apple tree,
I hated him.
When he put worms down my back
And left me hide’n’seeking
When he went home for lunch,
I hated him.

When he ignored me in the school hallway,
I hated him.
When he laughed with his mates when I slipped on the ice,
I hated him.
When he told Stinky Stewart Smith that I ‘like-liked’ him
And when he asked my best friend to be his date for the school dance,
I hated him.

But when I met him by chance on the New York subway,
I stared at him.
When he bought me a coffee and we talked till midnight,
I wondered about him.
When he asked me to join him for a picnic in the park,
And when he told me he’d loved me since we were five years old
And had always treasured the fun we’d had together
In our shared childhoods
And in our teenage years,
I realized at last
I really hated him.

 
A Dancer’s House
by Anna M.

This house is very empty.
There are only cleared-out spaces.
But this house has
something special.
This house is a dreamer.
It wakes me up early in the morning
So that I can dance to its ancient
song of
praise.
This house is set where
two rivers meet and rush.
Have you ever danced until the
thieving sunset stole your light of day?
Because I have, in my house.
The blue stones in the rain
are the music that I dance to.
My house is made of brick and wood.
But my house has a soul. Believe it.
My house is old, but comfortable.
I touch the rusted pipes that still let me live.
My pliés and pirouettes are better
when I’m in my house on the top floor.
My blood, pumping out imagination until
the day draws to
its close.
I leap and bound on my garden path.
I skip across the quiet river.
A peaceful house,
a peaceful setting,
a dancer’s house.

 
Diamond
by Guadalupe H.

I’m shinier than a star
I’m a diamond
That gets shined
Every day by my owner
I’m worth more than your shoes
Every time you look at me
You can see my reflection
When you put me in the sun
I will burn your Barbie doll
And toast her up like French Toast
Don’t hate because I shine more than
You and your new J’s
When you buy me
Think pink
It’s a better way of life.

 
[Untitled]
by Guadalupe H.

My world feels
Cold and windy
The grass is wet
temperature around 65 degrees

it moves like a sphere
an airplane
the right way the wind is going

My world sounds like
Vibration of the wind
In my ear
Trees blowing
I could hear the freeway
When the wind blows
And the trees blow
And the leaves get in your face
And the bears migrate in the winter

And when it stops
It feels hot
I get mad
And our stuff flies away.