Who I Am Is Where I Am From

What a delight to walk into the cafeteria after what must be a long school day for the students and see the eager faces of the Baty Elementary writers. Ready to capture stories about their names or poems about their dreams, the results of their creativity are wonderful. Walk into one student’s room, and you might run into a pile of clothes “so high, you can see them a mile in the sky.” In another cluttered space, a dog enters wearing a hat! Names feel “like the fluffiest pillow in the whole wide world” or “smell like garbage poop.” We connect with the rich Mexican heritage of family, friends, and foods in several “I Am From” poems. And only the most fertile imaginations could have created tales of escaping donuts and the invasion of gigantic purple marshmallows. Stay tuned, because I guarantee you will see more in the future from these emerging authors.

Terri Schexnayder
Teaching Artist

My Wonderful Name

My name smells like a room full of lavender perfume.
My name feels like the fluffiest pillow in the whole wide world.
My name looks like the finest vase of white carnations.
My name tastes like the best sugar cookies—right out of the oven.
My name sounds like clapping hands at a wedding.
My name is Kendyll.

Kendyll Bell

I am From

I am from playing games on two iPads.
I am from singing “Us!”
I am from watching “Backstage,” “Girl Meets World,” and “Daily Bumps.”
I am from eating seafood, like juicy salmon.
I am from a crazy brain and body.
I am from jumping on a trampoline that bounces me five feet into the air.
I am from a crazy, fun friend with a nonstop mind.

I am from a home with a gray hamster and two dogs—a Chihuahua/Hot Dog and a Labrador.
I am from a big family with four older siblings—all girls and my dad.
I am from an uncle who owns a Fiesta in Houston.
I am from a nephew who is nosy and another who cries a lot.
I am from a Mexican family, kind of poor.
I am from Austin, Texas.

Jazmine Covarrubias

Isaiah

My name smells like sunflowers.
My name tastes like pepperoni pizza.
My name sounds very peaceful and quiet.
My name feels like a soft, little puppy.
Isaiah.
An exciting name—one that raises the roof.

Isaiah Guzman

My Name

My name is ugly. I do not like it, because “Jeimi” is the Spanish spelling, and in English it’s “Jaime.” The fourth-grade teachers always mistake me and my friend Jaime. My name tastes like garbage with poop and rotten milk. It sounds like boys screaming. Its touch is like rough sand. My mom spells her name a little differently than mine. Like this: Jeymi. I want to be called Cristiano Ronaldo and would love to tell my mom to change my name.

Jeimi Jimenez

I am From

I am from wearing pink all day.
I am from three pets that are adorable—
one cute bunny, a beautiful blue bird, and an itty-bitty green parakeet.
I am from the most delicious food that my mother bakes,
like tacos, beans, and alphabet soup.
I am from the tradition of going somewhere, like Schlitterbahn, every Sunday.
I am from a family who’s fun to play with,
the kind family who gives hugs every night,
one that is historical with ancestors rich in Mexican heritage.

I am from a friend named Silvia who has a lot of secrets
and another who does not trust me.
I am from an artist friend who makes masterpieces
and another who writes beautifully.
I am from a soccer-loving brother who never stops playing.
I am from a brother who loves to play on his Wii all night long.
I am from a sister who writes very neatly
and another who enjoys playing outside.
I am from a dad who works a lot.

I am from a very exciting team named Badgerdog.
I am from Austin, Texas, which has a beautiful view all day and all night.

Yasmin Ortiz

Keep on Dreaming

Dreams cannot fly if they are broken.
Life is too short.
Dreams should live a long time.
If your dreams are broken,
life is a bird with broken wings.
But if your dreams are fulfilled, the eagle will soar.
If you dream big, success is yours.

Erica Orturio

How to Survive the Invasion of the Giant Purple Marshmallows

They’re coming! The purple marshmallows—the big, fat, ginormous ones! Join me to prepare for an invasion in Austin, Texas. Are you with me? First, we need brave people to step up and fight. Next, find a football field-length net in which to catch the huge attacking marshmallows. After that, gather chocolate, graham crackers, and, of course, build a large campfire. As the gigantic purple marshmallow starts zooming towards you, throw the net around it; then put the creature on your graham cracker and smash it down with the piece of chocolate. Roast to perfection and enjoy your S’mores. You will never run out, because you will have a classroom full of marshmallows. They will soon stop invading because the word will get out to the other gigantic purple marshmallows: “Don’t ever attack Baty Elementary. They will swallow you up!”

Ajouk Otto

My Crazy Room

In my room, my PS4 uses its hands to play itself. My brother comes in with no pants because he has not washed his clothes in many years. He finally sprays his shirts, jeans, and socks with the hose! In my room, the dog, smelling very bad, comes in and puts on filthy clothes and my hat. He starts talking. “S’up?” he growls. My brothers and I freak out and race from the room while the dog munches on some nuts. Well, actually, he eats regular dog food—this is just a crazy dream!

Christopher Ramirez

The Escaping Donuts

There are six different types of donuts, and the blueberry one is the leader. She lives in a hot kitchen inside dark boxes with five others. One morning, the donuts, bought by a hungry family, decide to escape before they are eaten. Just as Luzia, the cute hair lady, is about to place the donut box in the back seat of the car, the determined donuts spin out of the box and roll onto the sidewalk. Bam! Bang! Splash! The chocolate and vanilla donuts bump into each other. A little boy steps on the raspberry one. Squish! The strawberry and cereal-tasting donuts keep on rolling as they try to escape, but a baby sitting on the floor of the store picks up the strawberry one and eats it. The final four donuts roll through the kitchen, past the man who is cooking breakfast. He is so hungry that he grabs both chocolate and vanilla and stuffs them into his mouth! The scared cereal-tasting donut and his fearless leader, Blueberry, are all that’s left. They hide in a barrel until night comes and the store closes. But the cleaning crew comes, picks up the barrel, and throws the last two escaping donuts in the trash.

Jenny Rueda

My Ugly Room

In my ugly room, my clothes are so high
you can see them a mile in the sky.
My dog comes in with six legs and two heads.
I wish he had brought in some beds.
My sister drags in her dirty clothes.
I wish she had also brought a hose!
My brother enters my room
hauling in a dirty broom.
I asked, “What are we going to do with that?”
He answered, “Let’s make a hat!”

Next, my mom delivers to my room some nasty food.
It is so disgusting, it smells like dunking doo!
In my room, my shoes are so crazy,
they look spiky and hairy.
When I walk in them, I look like a porcupine.
In my room, my dog ate my homework. (Or, so I told my teacher!)
I guess my room will stay ugly.
But, you know what? I kinda like it.

Jaime Silva

Call to the Sun

The Hornsby-Dunlap Poet Heroes gathered every Wednesday after school to share life stories and build friendships. We explored the lives of authors: Shel Silverstein, Billy Collins, and Langston Hughes; we used sensory details to write about our grandmothers and we practiced limericks, similes, and symbolism. We played imaginative games to practice identifying nouns, adjectives, and verbs. Each week, we were thrilled to see each other and sad to leave. A few parents expressed to me their surprise that their children could be so excited about poetry!

Poetry allows us to express ourselves in a way unique to and distinct from any other art form. Lara writes in her poem, “Oh, how the rain is driving me insane!” William writes, “With all this light, now I see the true meaning of life.” When we offer positive feedback and encouragement, we see our fellow writers take flight. As Danika writes, “‘You can fly?’ asked the mama. ‘Yes, I can,’ said baby bird.” There is no greater joy than witnessing a group of elementary students discovering their own potential, being supportive of each other, and having the courage to share their original works. I think once you read these wise and hilarious pieces, you will all feel like Samuel, “I am happy as a butterfly in the air.”

Jena Kirkpatrick
Badgerdog Teaching Artist

The Light

I am running, fast as a bird,
running fast as I can.
I can see the floor disappearing
behind me.
The darkness is coming
fast, quite fast.
I avoid all things in front of me,
all obstacles, all stops, all problems.
I can see the door of light,
but am I fast enough? Can I make it?
The darkness is right behind me.
I make a leap for the door,
and the floor under me turns into
thin air.
I grab onto the edge of the door.
I look down and see dark, dark, dark despair.
I pull myself up, then something grabs
on to my leg.
I turn over and see a
dark, decaying, evil silhouette of myself.
It tries to pull me down, but I say,
“Not this time!” as I kicked it off.
I pull myself into the doorway.
With all this light, now I see the
true meaning of life.

William Maldonado

Run to the Sun

A bright bird had a run to the sun.
The bird always believed he could touch the sun.
Fwoosh!
As he soared by the trees.
He thought he was getting closer to the sun.
Birds watched as he flew faster than any bird in the world.
He looked back for a second, then — smash!
Straight into a tree.
Down, down, down he went.
Plopped on the ground.
Next, the mama bird flew to him and said,
“You’ll get there some day, so keep trying.”
He smiled and flew back to his nest.

William Maldonado

Rhyme

A flower is like
a bower on stage
I am happy as
a butterfly in the air

I am crazy like
a bull
when I am outside
I’m sweet like
a bird

Samuel Ojeda

Weird

My dream is to become a skater
and to overcome my fears.
I have crazy dreams.

In one of them, I was playing
then I jumped off a tree to the ground.
In another one, I jumped to the playground bar.
I tried to jump, but my legs
were frozen.

They couldn’t move because I was scared.
My body was ready, but my legs
were not.

Samuel Ojeda

The Rain

Oh, how I hate the rain.
It is such a pain.
I want to go to the shore.
But my mom said, “No go… Snore”
Oh, how the rain is driving me insane!

Lara Kefeli

The Pig and the Ram

Once upon a time, there was a tooth. It was in a ram’s mouth. It always said, “Get me out of here!”

But the ram was too smart. One day, a pig came over, and he was smooth and squishy. He said, “Knock your tooth out!”

The ram said, “I thought you were on my team, best friend.”

Pig said, “Just for once, listen to me, please!”

“No!” said the ram.

The tooth giggled.

“I WOULD PUNCH YOU OUT RIGHT NOW, BUT I DON’T WANT YOU OUT!!!” said the ram.

The next night, the tooth and the pig talked while the ram was asleep. The pig punched the tooth out. The ram woke up the next morning and saw the pig dead, lying on the floor. He was shocked! He looked on the TV and saw the tooth was the king! The tooth called himself Donald Rump! The ram got mad and jumped into action. He looked on the Internet and saw that there was a special potion that had been in a cave for millions and millions of years. Seventy-three people have tried to find it, but they either starved to death or got eaten or even died from being scared.

The ram never gives up, so he got a bag with a toothbrush and mint, a pack of smiley face stickers, and other random stuff. He set off and saw a huge monster-like creature. It had a clown face and a hairy body. He was blubbery and see-through. You could see his bones. The ram said, “Do you have a problem? I could help.”

“Yes,” said the monster, “give me a toothbrush!”

“OK,” said the ram. The ram gave him his toothbrush. Then he saw an even scarier monster! It had a smell that could kill someone! The ram said, “Do you want a mint?”

The monster said, “Yes!”

Then, he walked for days. He kept walking past monsters. One ate his leg off! He finally saw the potion, ran back, and gave it to the pig. The pig saw Donald Rump (the tooth) and together they put the tooth in jail. Then the pig and the ram ruled the world! They only ruled because of the ram.

“That was a happy ending.” said the ram.

“Well, for us!” said the pig.

Lara Kefeli

A Girl

There was a girl before
That we all ignore
The thing that she bought
She always brought
She was kinda poor

Danika Siv

The Always Ending Story

Once upon a time, a zebra was lying on the floor. Then a giant ant came and was nibbling everything in the city. He even bit the zebra king! “Ahhhh!” the zebra king yelled.

Then, the magical tongue got out of Jerry’s mouth and said, “I will save the city!” She ran for miles trying to find the crime. Finally, she found the screaming. “The time has come, tata,” she said. “Tongue versus ant!”

The tongue took a gigantic lick. The ant took a little nibble. The tongue yelled, “Ahhhh! That’s it! I’m taking you down whether you like it or not!”

The ant hissed at the tongue. The tongue used the taste bud slap. The ant now had terrible vision because of all that goop. Then the ant just walked right on top of the tongue. The tongue said, “I’ll eat you today then!”

By the time he ate the ant, the tongue had six bites and the ant was long gone.

He was never seen again.

Danika Siv

The Bird

Once upon a time, a bird was stuck on a bunch of little sticks. The bird was wondering where its mama was. The bird was very scared. The bird searched and waited for food. All you saw was a colorful bird behind her. The little bird was wondering, Is that my mama?

Then the big bird walked around and was waiting for a huge hug. Instead, the bird hesitated. The big bird was just waiting until she got tired. The big bird was very happy to see her little bird. She gave her baby bird a big surprise — some living worms that were pre-chewed. The baby bird was grateful and said hello to the big bird. Then the big bird had to live with the baby bird. She asked, “What is a surprise?” The baby bird thought until her brain got an idea. I might have a sibling, the baby bird thought.

So, she trained to fly. After a few days of training, she could fly. She spotted her mama. She flew faster than ever. She saw many eggs that still weren’t cracked. The mama bird was happier than anyone in the world!

“You can fly?” asked the mama.

“Yes, I can,” said baby bird.

She flew with her mama everywhere she went. After days and days of waiting, the eggs finally hatched. The mama was so happy, they found the dad, and the family was completed.

Danika Siv

A Poem a Day

Have you ever heard the saying, “A poem a day keeps the doctor away?” I heard it during my first year of studying English literature at St. Edward’s University. At first, I thought it was a clever ploy created by professors to keep English students motivated. Yet I soon came to realize that this little saying is actually true. The days when I had to study tremendous amounts of poetry were some of the best days of my undergraduate career. For me, reading poetry soothed my anxiety and allowed me to appreciate the little things. This morning, I was reminded of why this saying is so particularly true in my life. I came into the Badgerdog office drunk with sleep and rather unmotivated. One of the first things I did was read some of the poetry from the newly published Rise and Emerge books. Lo and behold, I felt instantly better. The poetry published in these two books is utterly amazing; it transported me to fond memories of reading work from Wordsworth, Frost, and Keats (my personal favorite). Yet the best part of reading this poetry was not that it was able to transport me to a distant memory, but rather that it was able to make me laugh, to make me cry, and to inspire me.

Here are two poems that truly caught my attention this morning. The first one comes from Ashley, a student at Martin Middle School, whose poem “A Picture” is published in Emerge: Youth Voices in Ink, Spring 2012. One of the main reasons why I love this poem is because the images are so uniquely powerful. Each sentence made my brain search uncomfortably and desperately for the meaning. I think any poem that requires you to think and leaves you speechless (as this one did for me), is a true masterpiece.

A Picture

Her picture was a smile,
this whispered like a thing
I was. That night was
reality, imagination was the
girl, and glowing through
a closed room. The only complete
mental hand, what’s your fact?
Not anyone else. He rips me
before I can stop him. I’m
a tear in his hands, a picture.
This is us.

Ashley, Martin Middle School

The second poem I loved this morning comes from Ebony, a fourth grader at Bluebonnet Trail Elementary, whose poem “Love Poem for Juan (Who Died)” is published in Rise: Youth Voices in Ink, Spring 2012. Her poem is powerful and has a pleasant rhythm to it that makes it memorable. Ebony reminds us to cherish the happy moments we share with people, even if they have already passed.

Love Poem for Juan (Who Died)

To the dead, who I never touched,
I have really loved you ever since you died.
For Hector, I have been brave
and not cried over your grave.
I remember all the things you did for people
even though I was just a baby,
even though I was just a baby,
I remember what you did for me—
how you took me to the park,
how you bough me cute baby clothes,
and best of all, how you played with me!

Ebony, fourth grade, Bluebonnet Trail Elementary School

—Nicole, intern, Badgerdog Literary Publishing

Song

We have a short, yet sweet poem for you today in continuation of our celebration of National Poetry Month! Lindy is a fifth grader in Badgerdog instructor Alex Almeida’s workshop at Baty Elementary, and writes about singing a song that fulfills your heart’s desires.

Some said koalas could not sing
You can sing what your heart says.
Let your feelings tell your song.
Don’t let people tell you how it goes.

Lindy, fifth grade, Baty Elementary School

 

Stop—It Is Spring

To continue our celebration of National Poetry Month, we have another poem for you today. But this isn’t just any poem! Ebonie’s “Stop-It Is Spring” was a finalist in our Spring Poem Contest.  We’ll be posting each of the four finalists until Sunday…when we’ll reveal our winner!  Ebonie, a sixth grader at Ojeda Middle School, writes in her finalist poem about that special “wonderfulness in the air” that comes from the warmth of spring, the smell of newly blossomed flowers, and the dancing wind.  Ebonie’s words remind us to stop and admire the beauty spring brings and to look forward to a new beginning.

The tree stops doing what is was
doing—shaking, you might say.
The grass stops dancing in a very
odd way, like a girl I don’t know
as she runs through the grass
and the red roses and the sunflowers—
she stops. Her nose is clear. It is
hot now. She can smell the
wonderfulness in the air because—
yes—
it’s spring.

Ebonie, sixth grade, Ojeda Middle School

Chambers of Memory

The Memory Palace is an ancient technique meant to help people remember. Here’s how it works: Imagine a house with rooms. Imagine yourself walking through those rooms; memorize what they look like.  Now put things you want to remember in these rooms—the first few sentences of a speech on the front steps, the next few sentences in the closet in the front hallway.  Then, when you want to remember your speech, imagine yourself walking through your Memory Palace.  

When Badgerdog brought Ms. Hertz’s fourth grade class from Bluebonnet Trail Elementary to the Blanton Museum of Art to see the El Anatsui exhibit, their teaching-artist, Jeff Pethybridge, encouraged them to creatively respond to the artist’s work.  Symphanie, one of Ms. Hertz’s talented young poets, wrote in response to El Anatsui’s “Chambers of Memory”; her poem of the same name does so many things at once. It walks us through her experience of the exhibit, in a way creating her own Memory Palace in response to “Chambers of Memory,” and it reminds us of the kinds of things we keep in our own—smells, history, colors, things that might still be sweet, and the memory of too many memories.

Wood and sand of a forest
burning to the ground
and the pain they felt
from the blowing fire all around.

*

Many layers of boxes of rooms
that have holes and tiers
of too many memories.

*

A big cloud of colored wrappers sewn
together, maybe still sweet with colors.

*
Things that are floating around like a fly to be colorful of color food.

Symphanie, fourth grade, Bluebonnet Trail Elementary School