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A tri-school collaborative
poetry slam program...Wow!
I worked with students and teachers from all 3 schools
to write and prepare for a face-to-face day of
poetry and community.
The following poems are 'found
poems'...the lines were taken from
magazines and newspapers, then arranged into poetry
and performed out loud in the black box theater
at Kinsella School of Performing Arts in Hartford. |
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Big
Ideas
Life has
its moments.
Make them
unforgettable.
Live
brightly like a sunrise
that
promises tomorrow.
Make
experiences
like
shooting stars.
Bring in
the memories.
See the
light
and always
remember
clear skies
ahead.
Expect a
miracle
to blow you
away.
Change the
world.
Be the
future.
These are
the big ideas…
by
Chelsey, Cheyenne, Amanda |
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We
Believe
We believe
you can be
that
someone.
Expect more
than what
you have in mind
to help you
find
your way
home.
What you do
when you
get there
is up to
you.
We believe
in sweet
and tangy harmony.
Little
without reality
as true
profundity (huh?)
touching
everyone
with kind
fingers.
The cat
sits back
and says
nothing.
There
wasn’t anyone
to cure the
melting hearts of stone.
Dream
dreams
we can
believe in.
by
Jayson, Kenneth, Veronica |
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The
Journey of Life
Little
things go a long way
so remember
the day
you joined
the wildflower side.
What if you
could fight
when life
gets hairy?
Make it real simple,
so everyday
is amazing
like a blue
rose symbolizing independence.
Someone who
has what you’ve got
is out
doing what you’re not
so let’s
party
and enjoy a
garden of beautiful butterflies.
Immerse
yourself in an eternal flame
and taste a
chocolate
you can
love unconditionally,
creating
memories to last a lifetime.
Rewind and
erase
that garden
of mixed greens.
Know that your
journey through life
is more
than just A to B.
Journeys
should bring us closer
together.
by
Celina, Tenia and Cole |
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Burning
Questions
Do coconuts
grow on trees?
Are they
hot or are they cold?
Are they
round or are they pointy?
Heavy or
dainty?
Do
watermelons grow on trees?
I thought
they came from the ground.
Floating
around
like pink
and green cotton candy clouds?
Do you
think pineapples should be cut
or eaten
whole?
Planted in
a garden
or eaten by
a mole?
Are they
huge?
Or tiny?
Gummy?
Or spiny?
by
Danielle, Joy, Diana |
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Celebrate
If you
could design your dreams
what would
they be?
You know
it’s important –
look
closely
bring on
memories
and
mystical blue skies.
Your dreams
include
deep roots
that cure
hearts of stone.
Listen
closely
you can’t
make it out of here
alone.
Thinking…
Dreaming…
Dreaming a
dream
being loved
my millions.
You are the
spark of your own fire.
Your eyes
never lie.
Celebrate...
by
Christopher, Hannah, Addie, Danielle |
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I Spy
with My Little Eye
She warms
us.
She warms
us
and it is
heart-wrenching.
No reason
why.
She warms
us
with full
ideas.
We knew she
was the one.
She was the
person that changed our lives.
She was the
one who said,
“What are
you waiting for?”
Our lives
were full of memories.
There is no
question why.
She holds
us near and dear
until we
can fly.
When she
comes sweet-talking into the room
Mama is a
sunrise
that
promises tomorrow and tomorrow.
I spy with
my little eye...
by
Carlos, Megan, Tiana |
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Imagination
A great
smile speaks for itself,
weaves
itself into the dreams
of all who
draw near.
A dream…
I’m not
even aware,
a
passionate light.
I like what
I see
but I love
what I don’t
see. A
great smile
speaks for
itself
and there
are many left to smile.
Imagination!
by
Ashleigh, Patrick, Linnette, Kris |
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Our
Saucy Secret
Life can
change in a heartbeat.
We wear the
mask
that grins
and lies.
With torn
and bleeding hearts
we smile.
My secret
is winning the game
of getting
dressed
before
eating all the whole grains you need
in a day
and that’s
the whole grain truth!
My secret
is I’m scared
the world
will come to an end.
I’m afraid
it will be
a surprise attack.
I count the
minutes.
My secret
is I’m afraid of change.
I think I
know enough of hate.
It’s time
to look at the world
from a
unique perspective.
The
difference is in the details.
We wear our
secretive mask.
Behind it
we shine
on.
by
Kathleen, Dana, Jackie |
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We Are…
I am a 14
year old girl.
I am a 14
year old girl.
I am a 13
year old girl.
I am a 12
year old girl.
I have a
messy room.
I don’t
tell secrets,
because I
don’t have secrets.
I don’t
hide my face.
I have no
regrets.
I am still
young,
developing
my soul.
I shall die
before I am
ever ashamed of myself.
I am real.
I am true.
I am alive.
We are…
by
Olivia, Angel, Kayla, Alexia |
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This next poem was written by
students from Two Rivers Magnet School as a 'Thank You' to Mrs. Kilray.
For Mrs.
Kilray…
Thank you
for all you did so we, Two Rivers poetry slammers, could get to our
first slam at Kinsella School in Hartford. We dedicate our group poem to
you.
“It’s
Not About the Points;
It’s about the Poetry”
Poetry is a sploosh of emotions and
drama, a way to escape reality. It expresses
the feelings of the mind at
that time; it’s a way to express feelings on paper. Poetry is
the only
way I can speak my mind, and it is the way to talk about something no
one
understands. It is the way I can get out of my emotions; it all
starts with a paper and pencil.
It is another world for me where emotion
flows like a river, so delicately. All I need is a friend
or a guy I
like, and I can express myself. Poetry may be deceitful with a curious
edge
sometimes, but it is always a way to express emotions in words. It
is the art of life,
the pretty woman I can write about. Poetry is
slamming words on paper, expressing
your passion and connecting with the
world as well as yourself. To some it may be a blob
of words most
people don’t understand, but for me it is expressing thoughts through
words
and phrases. Poetry is my escape, my path to an unknown world
where everything is possible.
It is where my heart dances and my mind
goes on adventures. It’s a passage to an alternate
universe, an escape
from sorrow and misery. Poetry is an escape from myself, for when I
write,
I am someone else. |
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What
Did We See Today?
Smiles…
mouths
flashing
silver
teeth
with
dimples deep
and eyes
wide
uncertain, shy
then
not…
Words
passed
like
basketballs
swishing
through
a hoop.
Hi, my
name is…
I like
your hair.
Nice
boots.
I play
the tuba too.
Memories
taking
shape.
Friendships
in the
making
like
clay
in
thoughtful hands.
So much
depends
upon
red rose
petals
against
a black
music
stand
beside a
single
microphone
by
Elizabeth Thomas
Words
Beyond Borders, 2011 |