Fall 2006 Selected Student Poems
Where I come From
I come from open skys and warm mud
in my sandals. Cough drops and wishing
on eyelashes with a resonating laugh and acielic sweat
to cradle your secrets and bring forth your wisdom.
Somebody taught me to make the best of life,
so gently I smile and say somewhere
hidden by my inhibitions is the perfect day. Hannah Kramer
Jim Hensley
SFH Screaming Soul I am misunderstood
Inside I am screaming
Waiting to get out
Begging for someone to listen
Someone to care
In a world full of people
You would think tht there is someone to talk to
Someone for everyone
Just one person to understood
Just exactly how you feel
But every situation is different
No one is the same
Past mistakes and past regrets
Take me to the grave
Buried alive from being misunderstood
But inside I am screaming
“
Someone let me out.” Nicolle Wittrig
SFH
I Hate It
I hate it when truth and lies come together,
when love is at the back of the mind
I hate it when rumors are spread,
and someone winds up dead.
I hate it when friends become strangers,
and games are nothing but danger. Jolene Montano
SFH Ode to Dance Shoes The worn out soles
My toes peeking out.
Support my feet,
Day in and day out.
Hard practices,
Rainy performances,
My shoes are never to fail.
Sweaty and
Stinky,
Causing pain to my feet.
Leaps,
Turns,
Jumps,
They stay on my feet.
Although they may be old,
The holes are merely
Memories that
My dance shoes
Hold. Kayla Capener
Julie Hasted
SFH What is Enough? This is what we are given, frosted cupcakes
Baked to perfection, coated in sparkling sprinkles. Millions of lighted buildings, towering above you
Each dotted with little yellow glimmers
Beckoning you in where it’s warm and bright. Teenagers parading around
Dressed immaculately in the latest clothes
Each in hope that you will glance over and think to yourself,
“
Damn, I wish I looked like that.” Clouds skid across the sky as the sun begins to set
Adults turn out their lights
We turn ours on, only to turn them off again as we sneak into the
night. Tell me this is all enough.
Who are you? What are you? Where are you?
Why is this what it is?
Why isn’t this enough?
Go way! Rainbows, peach ice tea, sugar right out of the package,
Gucci, raspberries, lollipops, a dozen glazed donuts,
Sunglasses, sequins, lederhosen.
All of this is enough. Meridian Della Penna
Julie Hasted
SFH Roots Up in a tree with traveling eyes
vision that conjures possibility
and dissolves reality into the true
sight. Hold yourself up until
brown cows liquidate into chocolate milk,
ponder green grass roots beginning
with the soil. After all, it is where we come,
originate yourself your own,
chosen chances made by us.
The foresight begins to unfold hand hold
the key to bare ground roots of all.
The numbers times 18, more plus 2
and also 3. Sit your ego down,
get lost in this vision we all hold our own
adventure, many quantities that are among us.
It is there, face it, but never deny its existence.
It will overcome you, if you don’t overcome it.
the thoughts that bring your down,
and toss the salad, carrots, cucumbers, tomatoes or sprouts.
It doesn’t matter, they all hold your
liking, but which one is the one
that’s going to make you go yum, yum.
Pick that one, and you’ll be satisfied, so why
choose something that will not bring for you,
and the liking from this world,
this existence radiates happiness, joy, peace,
love, and smiles only if we choose.
Red and yellow leaves sway themselves
to the ground where they be now,
afterlife is filled with embarkenings
and travels beyond the vision
we perceive, only within is where the true
existing power lies. Hold it. Keep it.
Live with outstanding expectations
for good all around. Lucas Pellstein
Jim Hensley
SFH what’s love got to do with it?
I am not simple-minded, a product of the system,
not just another blank-minded follower.
I am a good person, loving, cheerleader, sister, dingy (ha!ha!),
flashy, spiffy, perky, exotic, insecure…sometimes,
shy, exhausted, sweet, stubborn, silly, easygoing, aggressive,
talented, seductive, proud, and social. I am a baseball player.
I am not lazy.
I am a volleyball player, striving for excellence.
I keep my head high with dedication.
I am not snow, or spoiled.
I work for what I want and need. I am tired, but happy.
I read Jet and Ebony when I am bored. I am a sinner,
different than others.
I am trying my best
to live life the way I want to. I am not going to let myself down. I am not a person who judges,
I am a person who understands.
I am not a hiss in a BIG CROWD. I am not sad. I am bored.
I wish I wasn’t here.
I am happy, but tired. I wish I could be home watching tv.
I am not
I am Jimmy I am scatter-brained,
through this weary journey called love. I am speechlessly in love
with a warm romantic man.
I am not insecure about our love.
I am in love. I am young, no matter my age –
young at heart and soul. I am the one to love and give what isn’t given
to those in need. I am exhausted with the crash of love,
but broken inside when I am not (in love). I am a robust and excited pandemonium of light! I am not a confused or dim-witted person
who is in so-called “love.” I am going to try until trying doesn’t exist. I am not going to give up hope,
because hope won’t give me up. I am not damaged by what was
and what will be,
for I know love will find me.
Group Poem
Leslie Constable
5th period – fall 2006
SFH
What We Are for Now in Fifth Period English I am not hate. I am not incompetent, muscular, small, old, fearful, arrogant,
flat, square, winged, rude, or sour. I am ramshackle.
I am not tantalizing.
I am hated for my diversity.
I am not a conformist. I am a fiery snap, crackle, pop
suppressed by a grating prejudice. I am not the dull, rusty wire
twisting your soul like a spaghetti fork. I am not a prisoner of my own self. I am tall.
I am messy.
I am not muscular.
I am not transparent.
I am nothing.
I am cold and I have a bitter taste in my mouth.
I am not doing what I should be.
I am not anything. I am tired of your inaudible mutters.
I am a diverse intellectual. I am a happy pink daisy,
that creates happiness.
I am not a scarlet rose,
blind to the world. I am not a roaring tiger.
I float over seas.
I fight over tired grasses
for land under rainbows. I am a sturdy stutter from under your tongue.
I am your fragile self-consciousness. I am not your every day woman.
I am not your every day
smooth, creamy, light elegant breeze. I am a crisp marshmallow
of hot, steamy love. I am not a follower,
merely a leader. I am not a messy cluttered wreck.
I am a beautiful individual,
making people smile. I am not a miserable person.
I am loving and sweet. I am the fallen petals
off the fragile rose in my mind. I am young, lively, hysterical, dramatic, exuberant, exotic, bang –
spicy, sweet, short-tempered, silly, compassionate, social, suave,
persuasive, shapely, and proud. I am not silent.
I am proud.
I am energetic.
I am not fearful. I am not a mournful person
that drowns in my sorrow.
I get up and keep moving. I am a dream in progress.
I am love. Group Poem
Julie Hasted
5th period – fall 2006 Smoke It clings to your clothes
Hangs in the air
Makes memories rush back
Like a two-ton train
It is all so familiar
Yet so distant
It swirls with the wind
Creeps under your door
Out into the world
It reveals your secrets
It seeps into your hair
The stench is still there
Even after
You so desperately tried
To change who you were
Those years will stay forever
There is no getting away
Because
Smoke
Brings it all back Tara Sweatt
Julie Hasted
SFH This is what we are given… A wavelength of light
Functions as a symbol of emotion,
As the electro negativity of my social interactions are buried,
Under the stress of another night. A ray of sunshine
Can only appear
As a bittersweet epiphany,
That my life decreases n endless and vengeful folds of time. Caressed into my brain,
Like a hot shower on a rainy day.
Then injected like a needle
That contains the deadliness my emotions require me to obtain. If I cannot control,
And control is everything,
It might appear I have nothing,
Because stress supplies my every need before the day takes its
toll. Another day, another missed opportunity,
And that is enough. Stephen Rodriguez
Julie Hasted
SFH Ode to Chapstick Practical and inexpensive.
I can find you just about anywhere
On those days when the sun burns everything it shines on
I have you right there in my pocket to prevent my lips from burning
Or to soothe the damage that has already been done.
On those February afternoons when the wind is sharp and cold
And my ears and nose are red
You’re right there in my jacket pocket to provide me
with refreshing moisture for my lips.
You’re even there for me in those awkward moments,
when instead of standing stupidly, not doing anything,
I can just grab you from my purse and swipe you on my lips,
so I look like I have somewhat of a purpose.
I don’t care if some people say you are made of whale blubber.
I would pick you over mascara and lip gloss any day.
You are the one thing I couldn’t live without.
You would be the first thing I would take with me on a deserted
island.
You are my number one helper! Mireya V.
Jim Hensley
SFH
I Come From...
I come from the eyes of God. I come from the bottom of my parents’ hearts.
The roots of their veins, their hair, their skin. I come from the sweetness
of a twinkie. Mmmm, twinkies. I come from the outgoing mind of my brothers.
I come from the thoughts that come from my best friend/boyfriend’s
heart and eyes. I come from the warmth of my great grandma’s beans.
I come from the love she puts into her homemade tortillas. I come from the
random thoughts my cousin says. I come from the love songs that say I love
you, I can’t live without you, baby I need you. I come from he mix
of the spaghetti noodles and the sauce. The Kool-Aid my mother made that
refreshes your thirst, which refreshes my day. I come from the games that
you play on the computer, like bowling, pool, courses. I come from he non-alcoholic,
drug-free roof my parents put over my head. I com from independence, to
get a job, make my own money, buy my own personal stuff. I am who I am.
No one will. Take me as I am, if not, then I have nothing else to say. Tasha Armijo
Channell Wilson-Segura
Capital My very special Christmas Eve I was running down the
hallway of gramma’s house
my footsteps were echoing
against the great wall
I could hear the hum and booms
of voices as I observe the crowded room
It was Christmas Eve and
Grampa made a crackling fire,
it is too “tu-tu” for me to touch
Leslie came up to me and
protected me from the hot flame
‘
Leste came and played tag with me
All of my aunties and uncles
were there, I felt left
alone for they were giants to me
I heard Jackie making
something that sizzled and
smelt good too
Uncle Tom’s voice was booming
and Auntie Lisa was giving
me hugs and kisses
After I escaped, I saw
my cousins ‘Nique and ‘Shell,
they were standing near me
they were as big as trees and I was as small as a shrub
suddenly, I heard an
unfamiliar voice
it was my auntie “boo-boo”!
I ran to her, laughing
for it has been a long time
since I have seen her
she said she’d be right back
but she never did
And so I cherished this
moment for my guardians,
Gramma and grampa, my mom and caretaker, Jackie and my friend and
mother Boo-boo.
Leslie Gomez
Ms. Hasted
SFH Simplicity Ask me what is simple,
and at length id sigh
because nowadays
simplicity seems so simple
misplaced, displaced a smooth grey rock
I would say this is simple
but this is not simple
this rock is ancient
crisp with scientific words like
atom, proton and neutron
it gets smaller and macroscopic
to the point where
what im holding is a universe
but than where so small
a vague dot splotch, pinch
of reality
of this larger picture
and so mathematical
sleep your brains out
in school
class, bullshit
complicates
what one looked simple Id say simple is ignorance
the closed minded
the untaught
but each brain interacts
with the sub conscious
and each sub conscious
is mandated a soul
a right,
a belief
chemistry,
personal identity
so that even the simple minded
are not simple I look to the surface
and flip myself
backwards to upside down
looking for something
I’ve now complicated
contradicted
and made somehow
foully unreal but life is just a dream
don’t you know
and we are the unseen
the project your own reality
the deceive what you believe
the complicate
absolutely everything
so canceled out
that it may seem
as though nothing matters simplicity is what you allow it to be
the point of view in which you see
simplicity comes and goes
its expiable until it disappears ask me what is simple,
and slowly Id respond,
nothing,
nothing at all Jazmyn
Ms. Hasted
SFH Smoke My cigarette burns in the ashtray
The hand that held it is limp
If I could, I would turn back the clock
Live again in the serenity of promised beginnings
Dream once more of a future spent growing old forever
But forever itself is a dream
It is a promise made, then broken
And forgotten in the haste of breaking away
It is a hint
of something that has been discarded
I the angry traces of a burning cigarette
I have wandered back and forth in the dropping of my faith.
Limped through the tripping of the heart
And only to see
That it all goes up in smoke Kyrie
Ms. Hasted
SFH Smoke Rising through the air on a hot summer night
from the end of a dry cigarette,
slowly escaping through the lips of a man in a trench and tie.
It engulfs his lungs
and flows through his veins.
It is his love, his passion, his not-so-guilty-pleasure.
The smoke shall be his ruin
his lovely demise. Alison Rodriguez
Ms. Hasted
SFH
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