National Poetry Month

Since I am a teacher’s aide for Mrs. Hawkins, I had an opportunity to sit beside my eleventh grade peers as they worked on personal poetry anthologies.  Mrs. Hawkins’ students wrote poems about themselves to create a personal anthology as part of a celebration for National Poetry Month.

 

Students could choose from a large number of poetry formats and write fifteen poems (for the 11^th graders) and ten poems (for each 10^th grader).  They had the option of designing a cover, and they also could decorate the pages with artwork or clipart.  They were to include a table of contents and an introduction leading into the anthology.  At the end of the project, students were asked to write a conclusion in which they discussed they feelings about the project.  According to Mrs. Hawkins, she was surprised but pleased to discover how the students felt about the project, how they entered the assignment with dread and came out having discovered they not only enjoyed it but learned a lot of things about the inner person and past memories.

 

Mrs. Hawkins said that she had never had her classes do a personal poetry anthology before but was pleased with how it turned. She also told me that she read every word of every poem that was written.  Wonder what she did during spring break?  How long does it take to read  1,500 or so poems?

 

Following this article, are a few poems written by students.  I am sure you will enjoy reading them.

My Name by Zeke D.

My real name is Ezekiel

Yesterday my name was on every one’s tongue

Today my name is on their minds

Tomorrow my name will be forgotten

In my dreams my name is eternal

Who Am I? by Tyler C.

My real name is Tyler

Yesterday my name was T-Con

Today my name will be Conley

In my dreams my name is Rex

The Man Who Dreamed by Tyler J.

There was once a man,

A man with a grand dream,

A dream in which he fought for till the end,

His dream was what fueled his ambitions,

He fought so all man could see,

He fought so man could see through his dreams,

He was young and reckless,

But out of every one he was the greatest,

He cared for his friends for he had no family,

He fought so that his dream of peace could come to be,

So that kids could run and not worry of war,

So they can grow and have a life of peace,

The young man’s dreams did come true,

But he saw it come true from the very heavens above,

For his friends took his dream and fought to make it real,

Now as he waits to see his friends once again,

He waits with a smile upon his face for his dream came true,

Even though he died many years ago he never left them,

Because he promised to be with them always he was in there hearts,

For as long as they kept shooting for the stars and never turn back for that was his way.

Diamonte by Sommer N.

Passion

Fluorescent, benevolent

Loving, caring

Hope, joy, uncaring, unfaithful

Dark, inevitable, scarce

Loathe, perturb

Hate

That’s Me by Sarah F.

Yes, that’s me

Look and you’ll see

My hair is an unusual color of purple

My eyes have a mixed personality

My arms have a freckle for every memory

My hands shake with the excitement of life

My hearts beats with passion

I’m trying to be a better person

I never abandon the people I love

My friends are amazing people

I live to make a difference

I hope to be happy in life

I dream about my bright future

It’s all clear as can be

That’s positively, absolutely me.

Wishes by Nathan T.

If wishes were a color, they would be Chrome.

 

If wishes were a taste, they would be pizza.

 

If wishes were a smell, they would be cologne.

 

If wishes were a sound, they would be 400 motorcycles starting up all at once.

 

If wishes were a feeling, they would feel like Christmas morning.

 

If wishes were an alive, they would be butterflies.

Where I’m From by Marcus C.

             I am from an old broken down school full of memories, from Taco Bell chalupas

                 and Wendy’s five piece chicken nuggets.

            

             I am from the small, noisy house where fried chicken fills the room.

             

             I’m from the wild flowers, the tall weeds.

           

             I’m from the annual Smoot Reunion and big butts, from Linda and Steve and          

                 Tracey.

           

             I’m from arguing and fighting.

             

               From you should always eat your vegetables and do as I say not as I do.

            

             I’m from dressing up in my Sunday best just to wear it for forty-five minutes.

            

             I’m from African American, chitterlings and collard greens.

            

             I’m from the shores of Florida to the mountains of West Virginia.

Memories by Kaitlin D.

I am from the smell of pumpkin spice candles

from the taste of fresh baked cookies

from the warm welcoming sign before you enter my house.

 

I am from the long afternoon walks

from the family gatherings every holiday

from the creak in the porch swing

from the big dinners we have when my sister comes home from college.

 

I am from the pecan tarts at Christmas time

from the anxious feelings at dance recitals

from the summertime fun when I didn’t have a care

 

I am from the warm hugs and kisses I get when I see my family

from the family vacations that you never want to end

from the times I spend with my family and friends that I will never forget.

Never Forget by Jeremy G.

Never shall I forget my granny’s house in summer

Never shall I forget the smell of pumpkins rising from back

Never shall I forget her in her flannel gown

Never shall I forget her and her loving arms

Never shall I forget the sun shining down

Never shall I forget the happiness when she kissed me goodnight

Never shall I forget that she loved me unconditionally

Never shall I forget that I had a caregiver

Never shall I forget these things as long as I live

Never