Travel Advisory

We took a look at Richard Blanco’s prose/mix poem about missed destinations, We Are Not Going To Malta. Students were then given travel brochures exhibiting lush locales (decidedly not always depicting reality), and asked to create their own poems about wanting to go somewhere, but being unable to. Some students included actual lines from the brochures to juxtapose their imagined locations and situations. Where does our imagination take us? What do the exotic brochures not show us? Whose stories are told and who decides?

Lesson Note: ‘In the course of my engineering duties….I began writing inch-thick reports, proposals, and lengthy letters to clients and permitting agencies. Consequently, I started paying close attention to the way language worked to organize my thoughts, argue a point, or create a persona, noticing the subtle yet important differences between writing “but” instead of “however” or “therefore” instead of “consequently.” I discovered that language had to be engineered in a way, just like the bridges and roads I was designing. It had to be concise, accurate, effective, and precise – the same terms one might use to describe a poem.’–Richard Blanco

Mr. Telles, 9th Grade
Period 1

Emily T.

I can’t go to Mexico because Mummy is isck
Even when I tell her the minute she arrives she’ll
know she’d come upon a very special place. I can see
the Mexican white sand and Mexican blue water. The minibar stocked
with Mexican drinks. The rolling green hillls made of sweet
Mexican grass. Sing song Spanish that twirls in Mexican
air. But alas I can’t go to Mexico, because Mummy is sick.

Jesus R.

because the tides are too high, our captain states, his voice turning the
passengers to a disappointed tone. We’re not going to the Iberostar Bavaro
Hotel located right on the Punto Lana, the country’s finest beach area,
as stated in the brochure describing the magificent place we are
not visiting. But what if the tides weren’t high? What if we
could go to the Iberostar Bavaro Hotel? What if we could choose from
13 restaurants featuring varied cuisine styles and
be so filled taht we would begin to pull the tides toward us like
the moon. What if, as I experience a magnificent championship
golf course, I become on of the greatest golfers to every play.
I would play for my Dominican Republic national team with my
Dominican golf ball and my dominican swing.

Zach P.

‘Because of the hurricanes in the area’ thr flight
attendant begins, ‘we wil not be landing in
the Dominican Republic. We will be stationed in
Miami until clear.’ LIke a dagger to my
heart, my dreams and fantasties of sitting
beachside without a care in the world
are burned. I was going to indulge into
the Dominican culture. Go sightseeing along
the white sand beaches and crowded cities.
Maybe even learn Spanish. the more I
think about my drastically desired location
I feel that it is where I truly
belong. But we’re not going to the
Dominican Republic. My flight has taken a
sharp turn towards disappointment.

Mr. Telles, 9th Grade
Period 5

Danielle M.

because the destination is too far away, we won’t be going
to Belize today. We wil not stand upon the shore to bast in
Heaven’s light. The hidden limestone caves and caverns will
never be ours to explore. Wel will not fly among the
birds, leaving our past lives behind. However, if we did
make the journey, we would be able to put our stress and
pain aside. Belize would charm us with the calm of its gorgeous beaches. The sweet smell of sand and ocean would
be ours to hold. The calming waves would lull us into a sleep ulike any other. Snorkeling and diving would be ours
to master. Instead we stay at home, dreaming of the day
when Belieze will be a little bit closer.

Alex N.

On a gorgeous 3 mile stretch of white sandy beach. That’s where
we could have been, but the plane was overbooked. So instead of
enjoying leisurly walks or lush tropical gardens, were hunched over
in a bleak, gloomy airport. We could be snorkeling or swimming,
but instead were calling travel agents. We could be enjoying
gourmet restaurants or 24-hour room service, but instead our
stomaches growl louder than the engine of the plane that left
us behind. We could be gliding along a lazy river, or taking
a cool nap inthe nice air conditioned room. We could even
go horseback riding at an additional cost less than a
mile away. But instead we are trapped in an airport, with our
feet aching and our backs breaking. Our bodies are sore from going
no where, but our minds have already landed at the ultimate location.



“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.