Thursday, June 8, 2017

Reeds by Barrett W.

As my eyes drift across the vastness
I gaze upon the stars sprinkled between the darkness
I can't help but feel small just a needle in an ocean
I snatch the earth but it slips like lotion
Trying to free itself from my grip
I tighten like a python tensing every muscle from by finger to my hip
I stand there as I look at my roots
Suddenly unearthed between my boots
They twist and turn scream and dream
they are the foundation of me and they hold me up working as a team
Even though they twist and turn
Some charred away from burn

They show a past of a boy with and without needs
Made entirely of reeds
For reeds can be trampled but spring up like weeds
If a boy were made of brick
He would be whittled down till he was just a stick
And shattered by one little prick
So we must all strive to be reeds
And we will have no more needs
When hit do not shy
Gaze upon you roots and fly
Find the will to climb a star
So you may live life like a czar



The Wall by Ben C.

No not that one.
Not the controversial one.
If not that one, Then…. What wall?
It's that barrier
That invisible pothole that breaks your tires
Up to stars and down to stone
You can speak to it, but your words will be broken

You know what I'm talking about? It's the thing can be broken
If you are strong enough to break steel.
It knows you, you know it
But behind it holds what you don't know about yourself
Pretty confusing, huh?

But contrary to what I have said, you can go over it
So take a breath and start climbing

Footholds in the perfect locations.
Crevices, just in the right place.
You climb to the moon and higher
Your hands on fire
You climb for what seems like forever
You did it x4
You're at the top but you notice something

The wall is gone. All you see are little fragments of stone.

Do you know what wall I'm talking about now?
You're Wall, not mine, not his, not hers. No one but yours.
Your wall.

So you walk forward once again
On your path
And out of nowhere--
SMACK
Another wall.

So you climb your barrier, your wall.
Now stop think for a second--
It isn't just a wall, a roadblock, a stop sign, a pothole.
It's your wall, your roadblock, your stop sign, and your pothole


It's your story.

Thai Student by Weerin S.

What it's like to be the only Thai student in your class for someone who's not

It's like you are the only black sheep in the flock
It's like you have to hold all of the fear by yourself, without sharing
It's like you have to be the jelly translator from the Doraemon
It's like it's lightning in the middle of your heart when no one is talking to you
It's like you have a tornado in your brain
It's like you always see the rainbow after the storm
It's like you will follow the rainbow and you will see the end of the rainbow
That's what it's like to be the only Thai student in your class


Not My Fault by Kira H.

I don't have many black friends
But it's not my fault
The places your parents decide to move
Puts your life on halt

I feel like when I turn eighteen
I'll be on my way
A journey, looking and searching  
For others of my shade

“But you know the only way near
Is at an HBCU,” they all say
Snapping my dreams away
Giving me heartaches by day

But Hamptons not better than Harvard
Acorns not better than cornell
Winstons not better than Princeton
Allens not better than Brown

but I want to be the best
So I feel like a magnet is gripping me away
I feel like the blackness is filling me of shame
I feel like society is drilling me with pain...

But it's not my fault (laugh)

Ring, ring
It's time for school
“You make us look diverse”
“If you go to Yorktown they'll be 1% more diverse,” they beg

But solve your own problems
Fix your own system
Just like you should have
Back in 1760

Because I'm not a toy
I'm not a tool
Buy your own
I heard Office depot's got stuff for school


Trumpet Solos by Sadie F.

5th Grade
The band rolled into
My tiny school
Immediately, I thought
he-ey, BAND IS COOL!
I played a scale
My family cheered
And BAM just like that
A whole new universe appeared
A universe where people helped me
The directors who taught me to play high C
And my Dad, who taught me to lip up the “D”
In 5th grade, I solo-ed to the stars one night
But later that week, they didn't look quite right
Those stars probably hid their twinkling eyes
Because of my horrible, wailing cries
6th Grade

I played in a quintet
That was the whole band
My concert was a solo
One that wasn’t planned

7th Grade

A cygnet among ducks
The youngest in that group
I proved myself worthy
I was queen of the coop!

The last concert of the year came
I wanted to play a solo
The director approved my wish
My face blushed pink, aglow

The night of the concert,
My stomach a-flutter
My knees went weak
They felt just like butter

I played it and I played it
And played it again
Then the curtains opened
It was time to begin

I performed the solo
It sounded great
I was glad I'd spent time
Practicing late

Then I moved,
New school, New home
I had no friends
I was helplessly alone

8th Grade
I auditioned for a band
A band with a rep
A band that could march
In time and in step
A band that could tune
And play hard music
A band with bassoon
They seemed more than human
5th chair out of 7
My dignity sprained
I practiced harder
2nd chair I claimed
I forced myself to finish a song
To hit the high “A”
To play for the school
And the people that day
I looked at my friends,
We had a family bond
And I knew in my heart,

For sure, I belonged.

Clean Air by Georgia B.

Clouds of dust and gravel swirl beneath the back tires
To my left my grandpa has one hand on the wheel and one hand out the window
Grasping the cool prairie wind as it slips between his fingertips
To my right is nothing but sagebrush and prairie grass
Wait
No
At the end of the ocean of green and yellow that sways with the wind
Peaks jut up, creating stark contrast from the rest of the flat terrain
The closer we get the larger they are, and the more I have to crane my neck
To see their snowy crown

I close my eyes as we switch back and forth up the gray mass of rock and dirt
The feeling of the truck swaying lulls me into a daze only to be ended by
My bones rattling within my skin at every displaced stone and branch that’s crushed beneath us as we travel

When my grandpa gives the sign that we’ve reached our destination
I leap out of the car
The first breath I take is, ironically
Enough to take your breath away
Clean mountain air free the smog that leaks out of the metro bus back home
Rid of pollution, rid of worry, rid of care
Because the only thing that matters here

Is how you move your feet and take in the view

What it is Like to be Meeting my Hero and Role Model John Lewis for Those Who Did Not by Momo Y.

It's like not wanting to wash my hand after shaking his hand.
It's like meeting a person who helped MLK fight for desegregation.
It's like fulfilling a childhood dream, as big as going to the moon.
It's like having my role model telling me we will all have success in our lives if we choose to do the right things.
It's like knowing what happened to him and being thankful that he is still alive.
It's like reading his book March, the first day and meeting him the next.
It's like feeling sad when he told us what he has been through when fighting for civil rights.
It's like having my hero say he believes in all of us whether we are black or white.
It's like wondering if we'll ever have to go through what he had to go through when he was fighting for black people's rights.
It's like sharing John Lewis's pain and seeing what he fought against happening again in school and on the streets.


That's what it's like to be meeting my hero and Role Model John Lewis for those who did not.

Tuesday, June 6, 2017

Submit Writing & Art by Tuesday, June 13th!


Her Dog by Claire V.

Her dog.                 But my dog was better..
Was sleek.             She was dirty and
And shiny.              Happy
And pretty.              And bounding like a
And perfect             Kitten

Her dog was.          She played       
Graceful and.         Instead of sleeping
Good.                     Woke you up
And sweet as         With her head
Sugar.                     On your pillow

Her dog.                 She took your
Licked.                   Trash from the
And panted.           Trash can
And blinked.          Your shoe laces too
With eyes of.         And for dinner she ate
Wonder.                What you ate too

Her dog sat.          Your dog didn't listen
And stayed.           To anyone but
And could shake.  You
And run on            She would lick any tears
Her heels.             From your eyes
Like a.                   Anytime soon
Deer.                    She was with you
                            For all that was to
                            Come
                            no matter the place or
                            Time
                            That was under your
                            Tongue

A dog that's like no other.

Tuesday, May 16, 2017

Announcing...


In My Dreams by Naomi A.

In my dreams
the world is small enough to fit
in my palm.
it is warm
and lush
and soft,
like the feeling of touching flower petals on a summer night.
it looks as if the earth is glowing from the cracks between my fingers.
and then,
so slowly,
impossible to notice at first,
tiny ribbons of gray slice across the forests.
they bridge the rivers
and pinpricks of harsh white light collect beside them.
smoke poisons the white clouds
lead.
the earth is no longer
warm
or lush
or soft.
there is only rocky concrete
and sharp metal frameworks
that pierce the sky
and poke holes

in the delicate skin of my fingertips.