TGIF! In celebration of National Poetry Month, here’s a poem by Ashton, a fourth grader in Ms. Rich’s class at Pioneer Crossing Elementary. Ashton writes a powerful and brilliant poem that tackles the difficult subject of losing a parent.
be hard for
your parent to
leave. It will
take you a
long time to
You won’t see
day. So that
is why I
families and so
that is why
it is not
they will not
Ashton, fourth grade, Pioneer Crossing Elementary School
In celebration of National Poetry Month, which is closely coming to an end, here is a wonderful poem by Edwin, a fourth grader in Mr. Yniguez’s class at Winn Elementary. Edwin dreams of being something else—a puppy, an elephant, a car—yet he accepts his reality, knowing that all he will ever be is something which is “made of bone.”
clouds, they’re blue and my
hand is made of bone
because the acid from the
cloud burned me. I’m
a restless boy. I’m
a puppy. My hand is still
made of bone. I’m
an elephant. My hand
is still made of bone.
I’m a car. It’s difficult
to be a car, I tell you all.
Why? OK, I’ll tell you all why—
because I have three tires
and my hand of bone.
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.
In celebration of National Poetry Month, here’s a poem by Owen, a fourth grader in Ms. Rodriguez’s class at Blackshear Elementary. Owen’s poem reminds us of some modernist literature—as he focuses on a feeling of alienation, despite being in a world full of people. He is acutely aware of his surroundings, highlighting details that are normally overlooked.
The Day I Was Alone
The color of the sand is green, white, and red.
The texture is rough as a shell.
It is shaped like a football field,
as big as New York City,
as tall as the biggest building in the world.
And the thing that says not to pass
to the rock and sand
This place feels cold and scary.
And the cars look lonely and haunted.
The light, if you touch it, feels
hot, and it will burn you to death.
Happy Monday! Here’s another poem in celebration of National Poetry Month. This poem was written by Carlos, a fourth grader in Ms. Esbrand’s class at Oak Springs Elementary. Carlos paints a picture for us in his poem—one with a vast array of colors and images that are uniquely beautiful and chilling at the same time.
This Is a Sun
With red fire around it
and a red blanket
and a yellow pillow
and an orange ground.
it is like a smooth bed
but it is not blue.
This is a house
wood, brown, smooth, big wall
glass, clear, smooth, big as a door
chair, tan, smooth, small as a kid
couch, brown, soft.
This is a house
it feels safe
it will change by being dark, trash
everywhere, broken windows, table
broken in half.
Carlos, fourth grade, Oak Springs Elementary School
The foot of a dinosaur and the tail of a serpent can be seen in the place where flowers are planted.
A boat, small enough for a rat, appears.
Or a train, passes the rats in the place where small animals live and swim.
It’s like a beach, full of sand, surrounding the water.
David, fourth grade, J. J. Pickle Elementary School
Happy Friday! In celebration of National Poetry Month, here’s another wonderful poem! This poem, which is untitled, was written by Janelle, a fourth grader in Ms. Becker’s class at J. J. Pickle Elementary. Janelle dreams of soaring through the sky, with airplanes and butterflies, until she reaches what she loves most—freedom.
I will go to the sky to touch the clouds
because I always wish to touch the clouds,
and I will go to space and meet the aliens,
and this is called a passage.
So I will fly until I meet Paris and Tokyo
and I will go with the airplane
and the butterfly.
I always wish to fly on an airplane and a butterfly.
If I fly with them I will go to freedom,
because I like to go to freedom.
Janelle, fourth grade, J. J. Pickle Elementary School