All the best poets know that a writer is not judged by their writing alone, but by their ability to rewrite. The 8th graders of Clinton reflected on the power of revision as we read through two drafts of “Summer, Chicago” by fellow CPC poet-in-residence, Timothy Rey. Students started by choosing a favorite or unfinished poem from the past 8 weeks to revise. Then, they reflected on how they wanted to revise the shape and content of their poem, recalling our work with stanzas, lines, imagery, simile, and metaphor. Students revised their poems with intention and excitement, returning to their work with new eyes.
Ms. Krasic
“The Shop at the Corner“
by Vivienne P.
Follow the sweet rich smell to the corner,
to a shop crowded with worn out tables and chairs.
It’s a small shop, the size of one elephant,
but it feels like home.
Sitting down in this crowded shop,
I look down at a bowl of memories.
Pho feels like more than food,
it feels like a memory,
memories of childhood, Vietnam, and family.
Now the shop is gone.
Disappeared, with no trace left.
But the memories aren’t.
“An Ode to Friends“
by Bryan L.
Always helping me through the silent battles I face,
embracing me with care. Light, and hope
flowing into my heart after each interaction,
Slowly removing darkness and despair that tainted my
soul.
No matter the rude things I’ve said and done,
they kept me by their side. Forever glad that
they stuck with me.
Always helping me through the silent battles I face,
pulling me up when I’m at my lowest,
forever glad that they stuck with me.
I owe them the world,
forever glad that they stuck with me.
“Me“
by Ashtalfa K.
I am the blue dolphin in the deep ocean,
with many others to be by me.
I am a cute rabbit stuck in a huge flock of sheep,
with always growing curiosity asking for answers from me.
Who should I follow?
Who should I keep?
It all feels like I am lost in an enormous dark jungle,
with no sense of where to go.
I am the roaring lion in the green refreshing forest,
with blowing leaves,
and growing trees.
I am the hummingbird in a silent-dark sky,
who wants to reach every peak up high.
I am an owl of a huge parliament,
who likes enjoyments,
but hates arguments.
Ms. Karas (Group A)
“A Delicious Burmese / Rohingya Dish”
by Zubaidah N.
The sounds of Mohingya is like loud slurps
from people in Japan enjoying their noodles as they eat.
The smell is like all the combined ingredients you need
to make Mohingya.
Once you take the first bite, it gives warm and rich.
Lovely and heartwarming memories will start to pop
up and appear. The looks are to die for. It’s like a
delicious fulfilling delicate heartwarming bowl of
homemade noodles made perfectly from heaven.
It tastes like home, a little spice, a little
cheer. Mohingya means love is near
The smell is strong, the taste is right.
“The Awakening of Confidence”
by Aayesha P.
I am the black gloomy sky in the moon and
stars at night.
I am the color black.
Black is the boring color in a rainbow.
But NOW, I am the free bird in the summer
jungle.
I am NOW the rainbow beautiful toucan with many
colors in it.
I am now gaining confidence.
I am the awakening of confidence.
“Airplane Universe”
by Basim A.
We are airplanes.
Airports own us.
They rule us.
We are the slaves and we work under some conditions.
Pilots are the people who move us.
We want to rule but we can’t, the limit is our progress.
Airports are the places our rulers make us stand on.
I can’t absorb the pain they give me everyday.
Ms. Macmillan
“Adventures in your ear”
by Grecia M.
I am an Airpod, small and white,
I bring you adventures, day and night
while you are listening to music.
Pop me in your ear, songs and
stories, just for your ears for you
to be happy.
No wires to tangle, I’m so free, I
play your tunes, soft and low anything
Just for you and to have new
adventres.
I am a single Airpod
I can bring you music.
I feel like a cloud.
I don’t give you stress
“Hope In No Man’s Land”
by Anthony M.
No one knows my existence
No one will feel any worry for me
My body is a shield
The country is rising up, while friends are going down
And our hard minds will collapse like frail towers
These days will be cold and blue
They do not care about our emotions
And they are going to extend their weapons, and kill you
All those screamings and bullets blind my ears
But my memories take them away
Their smiles and laughs illuminate this day
The hope and I will survive today.
“Existence of a decent chair on everyday lives!”
by Bilal Z.
Me, myself I am a piece of chair,
which more than 5 people sit on
each week. Seeing chairs also
getting hot like a rocket blasting
as a fireball. Chair’s legs
smelling like fresh metal
being made.
Coming from craggy roads to
school which were dropped out
for people to sit on.
Lastly, being overused like
a used car giving it’s “ROAR,”
But really being dragged, damaging
me. The wheels giving warmth
of a hot tire drifting, but is
a humid gray sky!
Ms. Karas (Group B)
“I am similar to them”
by Melanie S.
I am the swan that swims
in shallow lakes.
I am glass that doesn’t
trust once it breaks
I am the rain that drops when
I break down
I am an eagle who observes
others when they don’t know it.
I am a back that you’ll never
see.
“Sprite Party”
by David C.
Went outside for a trip, but I didn’t
care because I woke up and felt
really dizzy, got me a Sprite
and tasted really good and really
fizzy as time flies by it goes
fast and makes me trippy
“I’m Batman”
by Nelly V.
I’m dark like a dark cloudy day
I’m a very private person
I’m always looking out for Gotham City
I’m also always snacking on crunchy buttery
popcorn brings light to my day like being the
popcorn itself.
the feeling of jumping into my suit feels so
tiring because I know the mission is going
to go right.
I’m very calm but act like I don’t care about anything
I will always forever be a Joker hater cause
he never stops trying to stop Gotham City
I’m Batman, quick like a bat and dark and
under the mask I’m an innocent man.
