Ode To My Technically Not, But I'd Like To Think You Were, Nana

by Saadiya, 7th grade

On a warm spring day

I sit with you 

On your Nana’s stoop

My fear of dogs forgotten as Brooklyn sits at my feet

On a warm spring day

After school 

We eat watermelon popsicles

On a warm summer day

I found out how kind your Nana Jackie could be

She helped me get over my fear 

For the few hours we were sitting on her stoop

With the dog at our feet

Eating Watermelon popsicles

That miraculously taste good

For watermelon at least

Now we must go home

She circles me in her arms

Wrapped around her skinny frame

She makes me forget

The dog peeing in the flowers

How we got there

Where we were

Everyone has to go sometime

I just wish 

I 

Had 

Gotten

To 

Know

You

Better

Always and forever

Your technically not Granddaughter, though I’d like to think I was

Saadiya

By Halima, 5th grade

The stars soar across the night sky

I pray for grandma to stay alive

I kneel with grandma beside my bed and pray for a peaceful night

The warmskin of grandma snuggles me with love

 I see a swoosh of light

The stars soar across the night sky

I believe that the world is my friend

I feel the breeze across my head

The stars soar across the night sky

I kneel with grandma beside my bed and pray for a peaceful night

Funny Things People Said to Me

in The Year of Our Lord 2018

by Alex Levin, adult

“Well, in some cultures, 

That is considered 

Good luck.”

“Ignore the scratching 

You hear from 

That room.”

“If you wash your car,

Be sure to use 

Conditioner as well.”

“Chanukah already?

Isn’t it a little early

For Chanukah?”

“When you walk in the house,

Try not to touch 

The floors.”

“Can you please 

Watch my bag for me

While I find my husband?”

She Forgot by Xi, 7th grade

She forgot that I’m there.

When She was younger, we used to play. 

She would hug me.

Say that I’m her favorite bear,

Her favorite toy,

Her favorite.

Now, She goes off with friends,

Goes to camp,

Goes to school,

Forgets that I’m there.

Forgets how much that She means to me.

Now, She leaves me.

Leaves me in a box,

In the bottom of her closet,

Alone.

Sometimes, when She has nightmares she takes me out-

But Ohhhhh,

How I wish to see the sun again,

How I wish to be played with again,

How I wish to KICK the ipads, and TV, and school, and camp, and EVERYTHING else, OUT!

Out of Her life-

And out of mine.

So She can play with me,

Once more,

Please?

But alas,

I must go.

The darkness of Her closet awaits me- 

(Sigh)

by Tatyana Yassukovich, adult

My mother, my breath, my heart

Voices in the dark whisper names

Faces above you smile you say

Brushed soft against your cheek

I feel your soul soft and sweet

My mother My breath My heart

You jumped from the terrace

Landed like a cat

My mother my breath my heart

Faces above you smile you say.

Rubik’s Cube by Cole, 9th grade

Most see a puzzle or a toy,

But I see way more.

The turning breaks the silence,

Which is unsafe to me.

Silence could give you space

Or it could leave you in the grasp of Blurryface.

Turning what most find

To be a useless piece of plastic

May be my only escape from

From the latter.

If I must be called an addict with a cube

To escape the pain of silence,

So be it.

By Robert Holum, adult

My Dad was so big! When I sprawled on his lap and stretched my arms out wide, I could not reach the edge of him! He wore pinstriped OshKosh bib overalls, and he smelled of sweat and Old Gold cigarettes, and I loved when he picked me up. My big brother said this was “sissy,” which was worse than death, but, when we came home late from the cousins’ farm I would pretend to be asleep so Dad would carry m in from the car. He called me his “Bobby Dahlings,” and I loved it. One summer night in the early ’50’s Dad said he’d take me to the baseball game in town. But, after supper, he said he was too tired, and he plopped down in the old platform rocker. I glued my face to the east window and could see the lights of the baseball park twinkling in the twilight, 7 miles away across the drowsy fields of corn and wheat. My big brother had drilled into my head, like military orders, “BIG BOYS DON’T CRY!” I didn’t care. That night I crawled into my Dads lap and cried like the baby I used to be. I knew I’d get punched, hard, on the arm, just below the shoulder, by my brother the next day to reinforce the lesson, but I made the sacrifice. The time with my dad - and the popcorn we shared - were great. I don’t remember the game.

by Brenda Levin, adult

Walking in Philly in the Summertime

Bicycle graveyard.

Scent of hot trash singes nose.

Cooling off on stoops.

Normal Daze

Looked like it would pour

Sat patiently with mask on

Inside air was thick

Something Pretty

I just want to write!

something pretty, something WISE!

My body shivers.

Ode To Peanuts

 by Xi, 7th grade

Salty- I think,


Maybe a bit sweet?


You are amazing to others-


So I guess you are a treat.


You have a weird shape,


And you're texture is cool-


I guess? I think?


I only know what I learned from school!


Peanuts, Walnuts, 


aren’t they all the same?


If I knew better I would think you were playing some sort of game!


I don’t know how you taste-


And I would never want to learn-


‘Cause if I started eating you,


I would feel quite a burn.


But enough about me!


Let’s talk about you!


Peanut Butter, Peanut Paste-


Tastes like some sort of glue!


Again, I don’t really know for sure-


All I know is peanuts are kind of a bore.

 
Sticky, Salty,


Gritty, and Graalty?