‘…show us the bitter meaning of/ love’: Sun Talks To Poet (s)

A lesson on Personification, giving human qualities to something non-human, was our third lesson. We took a look at Frank O’Hara’s touching and somewhat mystifying poem, A True Account of Talking To The Sun At Fire Island. In this poem, the speaker engages in a conversation with the Sun. The Sun imparts opinion and wisdom to the speaker. It is a Lyric poem.

Lesson Note: To help spark imaginations, each student was given an image and invited to create a Lyric poem using Personification, to create voices/speakers.   In part,  this exercise is based on The Poetry Center’s ‘Poet’s Look At Pictures’ call for submissions, where local writers were asked to respond to an image through poetry and Nick Flynn’s quote: ‘A poet’s job is not to play fast and loose with the facts of this world. [But rather to] Imagine.

Mrs. Nazimek, 8th Grade
Group 2

Anthony A.

Run, Run, It won’t be fun
Soon you won’t be able to
The water will rise because of the sun
All the land is all of my crew
Yes global warming is true
You can go to space
It’ll be a race
Against time
While you sit here writing a rhyme
You still can’t give a dime
Children hungry everywhere
Hunger is still a crime
Still you can’t spare a dime
Who cares closes the seal
Seal who have plenty of meals
Close it, good bye forever soon to be extinct
The seal

The Coral Misfit
Somyrah M.

My eyes widen as the coral started talking,
“Help, help us please” they cried out. What’s
the problem?” I asked, I was scuba diving

The water is more polluted everyday oxygen is scarce.
I was puzzled by the fact the coral reef is talking.
I just stared. Finally I said “What’s polluting the water?”

“The oil factory our color pigment is whitening out, we’re dying.”
“Wait,” I said, “you can talk I’m not seeing things?” “Yes we can
talk,” everything can talk–well, some things.”

I started to pinch myself telling myself this is a dream,
but it wasn’t. “Coral reefs can talk, ” I said, “Well, we’re talking
aren’t we?”

The coral had a bit of an attitude like
my sister. “Will you help us and save us
from this pollution?” I said, “OK” hoping to
leave and never come back fro which my
eyes are deceiving me, but stopped I was.

“Wait, promise us you’ll help us, for you too
need this water,” said the coral. I turned
and swam back saying “I promise”, for if that
was me I too would want help.

I rose to the surface and looked at the
factory 1,000 miles away
As the ocean wished me luck.
I knew I was not dreaming.

California Condor
Aidan O.

The marble like eyes stare at me
Terrifying to the eye.
The blood red eyes stare at me like lasers ready to shoot.
The leather black feathers giving the horror vibe.
Its neck as red as a child’s face talking to a girl
Its beak ready to chomp at someone.
Chomping like a zombie ready to feast.
Its skin as wrinkly as an old man’s.
As rough as sandpaper
The right is in his eyes
like a man battling in war

The California Condor

Mrs. Nazimek, 8th Grade
Group One

MarkAnthony P.

Fingers tired, I rest on
the keyboard instead of
staring into a bright
screen. “Hey!”

Startled, I jumped from my
office chair. “What are
you doing up so late?
It’s 3am!” said a…

Apple donut? “Go have
some fun! Spend time
with your friends.”
Astonished, I touched the…


A True Account of Talking to Money
Corey W.

Late at night I can
hear my name called it came from my
wallet I opened it the money said hello
I wanted to tell you it’s fight over it you think
us money like people getting killed over us
everyday its not cool

maybe if people spent money on things they need
instead of what they won’t you would not need to much
of it & need to kill for it conserve your money
save half for what you get so you don’t spend
what you need you can have some saved for when
you need it if you do this there will be less people dying

A True Conversation With A Coconut on the Beach
Andela B.

I went to the beach and threw my stuff
on the sand and I headed for the water
I heard someone behind me. I turned around,
but there was no one. The sound came
from my stuff. It was a coconut.
“Hey, you hurt me, ” he said.
“Oh, sorry. Are you OK?’ I said.
“I am” he said with a sad expression on his

Mrs. Nazimek, 8th Grade
Group Three

Robert M.

It is a bright and sunny day
the water is clear and beautiful,
penguins pop in and out of the
water when one comes up and
says “Hello…Hello..Hellooo!”

When I finally see who it is that
is trying to get my attention I
say “Hello. I’m sorry. I didn’t see
you there.”

That is alright, with you being so tall
I did not expect you to see me right away.
I had come over to ask you, why
you look so troubled on such a beautiful
day such as this one.”
I explain to the penguin that I had
such great plans for my future yet
nothing has gone as I expected to go.
The kind penguin tells me “Do not
worry about what goes wrong, in the
end everything will be okay
Sometimes you must take a leap of
faith and trust everything will be okay.
You must be like the water and go with the
flow, not everything must involve a plan. You
will know what to do when the time is right.”

Saul G.

As the world of wild life stares at me, I realize that the ugliest
animals live in the most beautiful place. It’s summertime in Africa and
as we communicate to the animals by just staring, we realize how precious
life is. As we stare at them drink water, we begin to be thankful for water. The
animals welcome us to their world. They show us the bitter meaning of
love. They stare. When we stare at lions we think of how dangerous some
people are. As we stare at elephants we think of how wise people are. As
we stare. We are in Africa at the cliff of a water-fall. We stare down
then jump. You fall and feel the water cool you down. You come up from under
the sea and you stare. We fell the animal’s emotions. And we stare. We
walk up to the world of wild life. And we stare. As we live life. We Stare.



“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.