‘eventually the river will stop flowing’: Meditation Poems

Students participated in a 10- minute creative writing meditation and breathing exercise. After the meditation, they were asked to write whatever came to mind. Classwork was conducted in silence. Daydreaming and even boredom were encouraged! Some poems will be presented without titles.

Lesson Note: “Boredom heightens daydreaming because moments of boredom resemble sleep. Each inhale and exhale become part of the experience. When the mind finds itself in an interlude of rest, synapses connect in different ways, and new thoughts are formed. The listener creates his or her own harmony in the space, just as our minds [might] fill boredom with a story or observation or memories-to escape the boredom. Mysteries abound in the time we’re not ‘entertained.’ “–Pep Talks for Writers (2017) by Grant Faulkner: Executive Director of National Novel Writing Month.

Ms. Taylor, 8th Grade
Period 1

Is There Anything to Say
Oliva L.

When you slip up
And say something you don’t mean
And apologies are ineffective
is there anything to say
In order to get forgiveness
Is there anything to say
When they ignore you forever
is there anything to say
To get to back to the way it was
Will pride hold you back from apologizing?
Or will you crumble and not have a retort?

Is there anything to say?

“I didn’t mean it.”
But why did you say it?
Is it a brain function I don’t have
So complex I can’t understand?
Why did you say it?
What I have never found out
If not for cunning abiltities
There is nothing to say.
You have said your piece.

Maurycy M.

Pieces of a puzzle all coming together, no matter the shape, spiky, rough
pointy, smooth, jagged, and all in between, they’ll all come together, no matter
the size, miniscule, large, small, humungous, medium, tiny, and everything in between
it’ll all fit. It’s like life is rebuilt, the events in our lives are pieces,
they all fit together to create something. Something that is our whole
life in a summary, and God is the one fitting the pieces together.

Fezvy O.

I fell asleep
But not quite
I tried at least
But it wasn’t quiet

I’m very tired,
And want to sleep;
I wish I could just
Start counting sheep.

There’s somethng about a good sleep.
That makes me very happy;
I wish I could sleep right now.
For I am feeling nappy.

Ms. Taylor, 8th Grade
Period 2

Sydni L.

Do people really love, you?
Do they say it for show?
Do my friends actually care about me
or do they say that to protect my
THey probably think I’m a tough person
who is immune to tears
but really I’m maybe the most secretive
person they know.
I’ve seen it happen to me
Do they only stick around because
I’ll look lonley if they leave?
Hoe come I’m nevery anyone’s first choice?
Never me
Did I do something wrong?
I’ll never know seeing how I’m afraid to
express my feelings.
If I do I’ll look
attention needy or weak.
Am I entitled to feelings?
Maybe not only I’m ready
to express them.
I’m a lock box
Nothing will ever be expressed about me
They’ll never know how I feel
because I hit them with a quick
‘I’m good,’ or ‘you cool.’
Maybe I’m never first because I can’t handle
Not even my own
Don’t come to me for comfort
I can’t do anything in that department
If I’m sad I just keep my emotions
bottled up
I can’t express myself because
then I’ll be ‘attention needy’
I’ll just keep a smile on my face
& be happy for others
No one checks on me because
I don’t check on others so they can’t
check on me
So why, they go tell someone
& love that person for the advice
I’ll be no one’s first choice
A second draft pick
01 Happy Sydni who
never sheds a tear

Keith G.

Busy, streets
Loud cars,
Mixed smells
That the diverse city of

You’re either a
Cubs or Sox fan,
you can’t be both
Any other team does’t matter

The land of new beginnings,
Opportunity for everybody
Choose your path to


Adam B.

The world,
a dark and mood place
where your fears bring others happiness
where water mixes with dirt
apparently washing it out,
but it doesn’t
The mud dries out
leaving the dirt behind,
you may think happiness restores everything,
but happiness can’t restore what’s already broken,
It can help prevent further damage
but not fully
love is like a river,
non-stop flowing
this time the dirt won’t dry out,
it’ll stay as mud,
maybe love can even repair the damage,
but all things end eventually,
eventually the river will stop flowing
evenutally the mud will be dirt again,
eventually everything ends
that’s just how this works

Ms. Taylor, 8th Grade
Period 3

Bessy R.

I’ve always hated the dark because I don’t feel
present I feel that everything I believe and love
will dissappear. My biggest fear since for as long
as I can remember has been being. I’m scared
that the person I love most in my life will die before
me. When I was young and would get nighmares
on movies I watched I would stare at the ceiling
and although cliche I would say god if anything happens
to me I know it’s because you let it happen. And then
I grew out of it, years later I learned to just
accept and yet still I still fear being alone in life.
I hate being in the dark because I start
to think. I think that everything means nothing and
if there was an if, I don’t like closing my eyes
for long periods of time because it makes me anxious
distanced and isolated.

Jahdiel L.

Mexico is very cool
But why are we so cruel
If there is a wall to separate us from them
Why not help them instead
What is the difference between us

We make friends with dangerous people
But why not Mexico
Hate, violence and separation are happening at the border
We said there would not be another war

Ms. Taylor, 8th Grade
Period 5

Owen L.

Quiet, all over the city
Blank all over my mind, nothing to
worry or think about. Peace, No fear
and violence aroudn the Globe.
Dark nothing scary or threatening
to look at. Peace and
Quiet all over the city.

Oscar K.

I’m hungry
I have a lot of homework
I have practice tonight
I need to help out after school
I need to do Cornell Notes
I have a Spanish project
I need to work on my History Fair
I’m bored
I don’t know what to write.

Charlie K.

Imagine a room
Imagine a room with no limits
Chase the edge of the room
How long will you chase it?
Is anything in the room?
You’re alone
You’re alone in this room
In this plain, empty room
What do you do?
Where do you go?
Paper is much like this room
There are no limits to what you can do
You can leave it blank or make a masterpiece
Paper is your endless creative space
Waiting for your mark.

Ms. Taylor, 8th Grade
Period 7

Trinity S.

Tired eyes focused on blank white paper
monotone voices rattle through classrooms
cramped hands continue to write
There is no sleep for students tonight
Study for tests
Keep up good grades
the only thing that matters
are 4.0 GPAs
There is no rest for
children when school is all that matters
Due dates and homework
dictate young lives

Tristan R.

My bones feel heavy
like rods of iron
Inside my limbs.
They weigh down my movements,
like a collection of photos
Each taken seconds apart.
My blood is not
running through my veins.
It’s more of a job
More of a stroll.
A peaceful pace
Through the blue tunnels
In my arms
My veins are sore
From being stepped on.
I don’t know why
My arms sink to my side
like bowling balls
strapped to my palms
Like my center of gravity
Is the center of the earth
Thousands of miles below me,
Tugging my body
Like sink to the bottom
Of the ocean.
I’m just tired,
Not metaphorically,
or because of some
Obscure silhouetted symptom
Of a deeper, rooted issue,
I’m just tired.
I wonder if I’ll
Ever feel awake again.



“Writing poetry makes me feel like I can see myself, like I can see my reflection, but not in a mirror, in the world. I write and I know I can be reflected.”
-Oscar S.

“Writing poetry makes me feel free.”
-Buenda D.

“Writing poetry is like your best friend.”
-Jessica M.