S P A C E Genevieve Alex January 4, 2024 It’s so Cold When was the last time I was home? I can’t remember anymore I’m stuck in the vast, dark void of space My oxygen will last me a week Maybe that’s enough time to come to terms with my fate Maybe I’ve tried to contact Earth but there’s no use Just floating, slowly losing consciousness I take off my helmet It’s over.
Similarities Bear Boeke Trevathan, 12/4/23
There are similarities in everything, like a game in P.E. and animals hunting
Similarities make up the world, like the silent wingbeat of the owl and the rumor of the boy who likes that girl
But we don’t always see them at first, like the kid you find annoying and the sport you find the worst
Similarities are cool like Antarctica like the fierce penguins you find there like the warriors who went to Sparta
Similarities span decades, sometimes merely a day like the ancient crocodile and the new moons of Saturn found in May
See similarities are only to be found when you think of what’s similar, and aren’t dumbfound
Everything that will exist, and everything that is will find it’s similarity, no matter what its rarity
Religion- by Claire Guiney growing up, your Sundays were not filled with bread and wine, but bagels and iced coffee.
there was no church; there was only the bagel store two blocks from your apartment
And mom and dad and your brother and you skipped along the cracked sidewalks,
we were so young back then, not even realizing we were on our way to that holy place
the priests say “hi, honey!/what can I get for you?”
no baptism except for the warm burst of air that feels like gold and smells like wheat
no prayer except for your usual order “everything and strawberry, please!”
that old TV yaks on about the news, but your booth is the home of laughing parents and Sunday-morning-meals
your Sundays were not filled with bread and wine,
but your family must have been religious in some way, what else do you call that bagel-store ritual?
what else do you call that warm glow besides love?
Ode to Joy - by Sun J
My 5 year old golden chow retriever rests in the pillowy grass on his afternoon walk. He sits there, and I tug his leash, calling his name, telling him, over and over, ‘we need to keep moving’. But he just stays, paws planted in the grass, with the perfect shade of light spring-green . I give up tugging, and I just watch him. Soon enough, I no longer see a lazy canine refusing to walk. I see his little sniff into the breeze that sways by, I see his ears perk up at the soft patter I hear in the distance, probably from a woodpecker, or the owl hooting in daylight He is noticing all these things about the word, and as my eyes become his eyes, I soon enough have just met the world 5 years ago And sparks of poise hide in the grass growing between sidewalks, The stars patterned around the night sky, And the air that hugs us all Thus, beauty is all.
Shrek is Smexy By Sylvia Castro-Green and Naya Facto Shrek is smek smek is Shrek After Winter comes Spring and after Spring comes Shrek After Shrek comes Smek Shrek is green Shrek is not mean Although Shrek is derived from terror Shrek has no error His name is Sir Shrek he bathes in his swamp His best friend is donkey he likes to clomp and stomp CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP Sharks are gray, donkey is gray, swamp is gray. Shrek is green.
Fat In The Mirror (By Lila Mendelberg) 2/8/23
God created bodies so unique and beautifully This is what makes us different and humanly But if my body is such a force Than why do I feel such remorse
It’s a rhetorical question we all know the answer Because for so many years we have lived for a sir Male validation is what we were forced to crave So we changed our bodies and the way we behave
Times have modernized and we have become independents But sometimes I fear this way of thinking will infect my descendants Some ways of thinking are irreversible in our minds They’ve been around through way too many man-kinds
It has to change soon because it’s infecting our brains I mean I can’t even look in the mirror without shivers through my veins All I can see are the flaws that I carry The weight, the acne, and the spots where I’m hairy
Looking at these things causes a certain kind of pain I feel disgusted and trapped and I feel as though I am tied to a chain I don’t need to be perfect just good enough So I do everything I can even when it’s tough
I begin not to eat and work out more Pushing through the starvation and the burn pretending im not sore I feel the streams of cold tears run down my face As I keep playing over people’s words that make me feel like I am a disgrace
When I’m insecure about my body it sucks all the life out of me It weighs me down like I’m in shackles begging to be free But no-one is here to save me so I have to escape on my own Searching blindly for a solution to ease the pain I’ve always known
This feeling is so normalized that people don’t ever complain Because so many people feel it, they don’t see a different pain When somethings not new people don’t show any sympathy They just see it as a passing stage in life without realizing the complicity
Why am I telling you all of this you may be wondering Because I want you to know that you’re not alone if you are suffering
I know people can be disappointing trust me I do But suffering in silence won’t give you any more of a clue Find people that will understand what your going through There’s more than you think we’re all in the same canoe
This is not a solution but it will help you get there To a place where you love yourself and you never compare I have a long ways to go before I get there and you may too But we have each other and we will make it through.
The Dodo Birds By Beckett Meda February 15, 2022 This is a poem about a fictional Black person who has been bullied in schools and is comparing it to a time many don’t think of. It takes place in the Jim Crow Era when blacks were being transferred to all white schools (this poem was also entered into the 2nd annual MMS Black History Month Oratory Contest as a Selves poem)
History always seems to repeat itself though it adds a twist so nobody notices… the dodo bird was hunted and called ugly which led to its extinction then there's the black person just like any other human but with a different colored race though this made no difference we are bullied and called names. Repeats… Repeats… We hope the places we were told are safe really are like schools though they are not. We are bullied and hunted down because we are the dodo birds. We are called names that keep us awake because we are the dodo birds. We are deemed as idiotic and bird brains though no one dares to teach us a thing. We are called savages though who were the ones who whipped, kidnapped, and tortured us? All because we are the dodo birds. BUT! WE can rise no matter what we are told no matter how much it rings in our ears! Dodo… Dodo… WE are not what some claim us to be! WE are humans WE matter. Repeats… Repeats… Though it may never stop WE will try no matter how many times it repeats. Repeats… Repeats… WE will stay strong, good ending or not. Because WE are not the dodos they say we are… WE are people.
But, What If... Maddie Flesch
As children, we are told That a textbook will always hold Questions and answers, the keys to life The bounds of knowledge that cut like a knife.
But what if We put down the book And gave the world around us a look?
This world isn’t perfect. In fact, it is hurting Like the tingling on your skin From flames burning.
But what if We saw the nightmares and dreams, The laughs and screams The way this terrible world seems.
Children begging for a morsel to eat, Riots in the streets, shouting I CAN’T BREATHE, A pandemic sickening the masses People spreading their loved one’s ashes.
This world isn’t perfect. In fact, it is hurting Like missing something, That constant yearning.
Perseverance means To adapt to the things we see, To get through the struggles, To come out defiant in the face of troubles.
So, let us take a second And learn a lesson From our world today. And once we do, everything will start to be okay.
An Emmett Till Rap By Melanie Fisher
It all started with a boy named Emmett Till, he was dared to do something against his will.
He was dared to go inside a store by his friends, but what he didn’t know was this would be his end.
He was accused of offending someone named Carolyn Bryant. The way he should’ve acted with his friends? Defiant.
Poor Emmett was killed/lynched at 14 years old. It was because he reportedly “looked at Bryant and whistled”.
And so, Mrs./Ms. Mamie Till (who was Emmett’s mom), left his casket open for people and folks to see that he was gone.
Some people cared, and some people didn’t. Some people were affected by it in terms of being sensitive.
While some people pardon these tragic events, the killings in history have created some dents.
But you may be considering and wondering, “What do I do?” But you know, the next person to help bring change (just) might be you.
The Hill We Climb The following poem was read by Amanda Gorman at the presidential inauguration of Joe Biden and Kamala Harris on January 20th 2021. Ms. Gorman is the first-ever youth poet laureate.
When day comes we ask ourselves, where can we find light in this never-ending shade? The loss we carry, a sea we must wade We've braved the belly of the beast We've learned that quiet isn't always peace And the norms and notions of what just is Isn't always just-ice And yet the dawn is ours before we knew it Somehow we do it Somehow we've weathered and witnessed a nation that isn't broken but simply unfinished We the successors of a country and a time Where a skinny Black girl descended from slaves and raised by a single mother can dream of becoming president only to find herself reciting for one And yes we are far from polished far from pristine but that doesn't mean we are striving to form a union that is perfect We are striving to forge a union with purpose To compose a country committed to all cultures, colors, characters and conditions of man And so we lift our gazes not to what stands between us but what stands before us We close the divide because we know, to put our future first, we must first put our differences aside We lay down our arms so we can reach out our arms to one another We seek harm to none and harmony for all Let the globe, if nothing else, say this is true: That even as we grieved, we grew That even as we hurt, we hoped That even as we tired, we tried That we'll forever be tied together, victorious Not because we will never again know defeat but because we will never again sow division Scripture tells us to envision that everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree And no one shall make them afraid If we're to live up to our own time Then victory won't lie in the blade But in all the bridges we've made That is the promise to glade The hill we climb If only we dare It's because being American is more than a pride we inherit, it's the past we step into and how we repair it We've seen a force that would shatter our nation rather than share it Would destroy our country if it meant delaying democracy And this effort very nearly succeeded But while democracy can be periodically delayed it can never be permanently defeated In this truth in this faith we trust For while we have our eyes on the future history has its eyes on us This is the era of just redemption We feared at its inception We did not feel prepared to be the heirs of such a terrifying hour but within it we found the power to author a new chapter To offer hope and laughter to ourselves So while once we asked, how could we possibly prevail over catastrophe? Now we assert How could catastrophe possibly prevail over us? We will not march back to what was but move to what shall be A country that is bruised but whole, benevolent but bold, fierce and free We will not be turned around or interrupted by intimidation because we know our inaction and inertia will be the inheritance of the next generation Our blunders become their burdens But one thing is certain: If we merge mercy with might, and might with right, then love becomes our legacy and change our children's birthright So let us leave behind a country better than the one we were left with Every breath from my bronze-pounded chest, we will raise this wounded world into a wondrous one We will rise from the gold-limbed hills of the west, we will rise from the windswept northeast where our forefathers first realized revolution We will rise from the lake-rimmed cities of the midwestern states, we will rise from the sunbaked south We will rebuild, reconcile and recover and every known nook of our nation and every corner called our country, our people diverse and beautiful will emerge, battered and beautiful When day comes we step out of the shade, aflame and unafraid The new dawn blooms as we free it For there is always light, if only we're brave enough to see it If only we're brave enough to be it
Downhill Rolling by Maddie Flesch (from Mr. Cohen's Poetry Grammys 2020)
Cool wind blows in my face, wisps of my hair fly in the breeze Adrenaline rushes through my veins, making me feel more alive than ever My heart starts beating like a drum, so loud I can hear it in my ears
I push off, and start shooting down the hill Gripping the sticky handlebars as tightly as possible, I can feel the pulse in my wrist Keeping my balance like a perfect scale, remaining calm and stable
My thoughts and worries are snow in the spring, melting away with the heat Houses and buildings fly by, becoming specks of color in my vision The warm summer sun engulfs me, heating my skin
I pull on my brakes, feeling the cool metal against my palms I am on a horse, pulling the reins as it slows The wind in my face becomes slower, and my skin feels a little colder
The world starts to become a little more real, like waking up from a dream I am no longer a perfect scale, keeping the balance of the world But yet, I am still filled with a feeling of happiness and contentment
INVISIBLE KILLER We are fighting an impossible fight We only know that once it ignites It spreads like fire so easy to give But all it does is take, out of spite
It has a clear incentive To wipe out, destroy, and make negative Our happy, carefree lives are gone This virus is not passive
Through fear and sadness we keep moving on Staying apart so that we can live-on With more bad news coming each day We know that this quarantine will drag on
With everything closed, even broadway We need to stay apart, to be together one day Now let's remember our hardest workers The nurses and doctors who are working anyway
Ariela Ellman
A Letter By Ryan Adler
This is to the boy whose dresses don't seem to ever fit right. Whose chest is secretly wrapped so tight he can barely breathe. Whose restroom never has the right figure on the sign.
This is to the girl who left her parents with the body of the son they wanted and the daughter they had. Whose life ended because her mother and father just couldn't accept her name wasn't Josh. Whose memorial was held for a person that wasn't her.
This is to the women that are either shamed or sexualized. That either hear death threats or requests to "join them later". That long for a normalcy that doesn't come.
This is to the boy that thinks he's broken, because aren't boys supposed to love sex? Isn't that all boys think about and want? That isn't what he thinks about, and the scars on his arms show that he knows it.
This is to the people that are told to "just choose one." That are targeted because their love is too big for just one gender. That aren't accepted into a community based on acceptance.
This is to the children with the weight of the world on their small shoulders. With adults' hands over their mouths and a heart full of hurt. With soft arms covered in thousands of pale scars, each one for a tear fallen.
This is to those filled with words unspoken, for fear of their own life. This is to those whose bodies don't fit their hearts. This is to those so far down in the darkness they've lost all hope of light.
I see all of you. Keep fighting. You are worth it. #BreakTheSilence