As we drive
I see birds
high in the sky.
I close my eyes and imagine
I am a bird
flying all the way to Mexico.
I can taste the chamoy raspas.
I can hear the mariachi
and church bells.
I feel my heart jump.
Below me, I see trees
dancing in the wind.
I don’t want to open my eyes
but when I do I’m back in the car
and we’re still driving.
I look up and see the sign:
“Welcome to Mexico.
Fulmore Middle School
It’d be a drought
the cracked ground we walk on,
the beating sun pushing us down.
“But it rained a couple of times,”
they tell us, while the heat
is scorching our skin
and dust is in our eyes.
“Get over it,” they tell us
from their green watered lawns.
We sit in the sun baking for generations
waiting for the forever rain,
no trees to protect us.
The trees were never there to protect us.
Fulmore Middle School
A busy, bustling place
My beautiful country
Oh, how I’ve missed you
Oh, how you’ve changed in these six years
Yet I remember the scent of heavy spices and roasted corn
The soft, crumbling ground after the rain
Everywhere you go people talking
To each other in community before my eyes
The complex beauty of languages twisted
Within each other resounding through the town
The rush of everyone with places to be
So many nights I have spent longing to be
With all of my true family
Yenye nguo na rangi za kupendeza
Nakushikilia kwenye nafsi ya moyo wangu
Kwa Kunikaribisha mimi kama binti yako
Wewe ni chanzo cha uzazi wangu
So vibrant and colorful
I love you so much
You have a place in my heart
welcoming me as your daughter
for you are my motherland
Fulmore Middle School
A Single drop of sunlight falls
Wind blows in my gray hair
Darkness fades and I’m overwhelmed with free life
People open their windows
Children play in the streets
I step in the grass
I know it’s over now
I can feel it in my bones.
I remember when I was a little girl
Sweet and innocent
Faced with the deep, dark world
Of shut doors, closed windows, and no children outside.
I was little but strong
I had all the power to change the world
So I did
Darkness is dead
Sunlight is born
Because we did it.
Ann Richards School
We came to a stop,
the door opened
and a thick air filled the car
and creeped into my lungs.
I cough and sniffle,
dirt covers my face.
As we walk down the streets
of red, orange, blue and green houses,
mix matched tall and short, big and small
made of twig cement or bricks
Fruit stand, carts selling make-up
tacos and aguas frescas
line the block and barefooted children run everywhere
asking for food or money.
I can feel the warmth in every step I take
to get my grandma’s house.
I hear “bien” and “como estas,”
a language that
I am a raindrop wild
Sitting in a pond so mild
It’s boring here each day
With nothing to do, nothing to say
Some fellow raindrops got slurped up
By a flock of thirsty ducks
I wouldn’t want to meet that fate
Inside a duck does not sound great
But one day I started to rise
Slowly soaring to the skies
I began to break into droplets so small
You could barely see me at all
The other droplets broke up too
And floated with me in the blue
I asked the sun what this thing was
He replied as he usually does
“It’s called evaporation, Child,
But you aren’t still a raindrop wild
You’ve simply taken a new form
Why, Child, you’ve been reborn!
I’ve changed you into gas, you see
And a gas is what you shall be
Water vapor is your new name,
But that will not stay the same.”
HIgher and higher I soared
I began to condense, I was no longer bored
We clumped together drop by drop
The cold air blew, we couldn’t stop
Squeezing tighter and tighter, packed within
Ominous, gray, battered by wind
I asked the sun
sounds foreign now
and I realize; I’ve missed this place, my home.
Fulmore Middle School
Are placed orderly.
It may be new or old but it must stay there.
At least maybe it should. Maybe it shouldn’t here.
More come more go but it stays still till broken down.
One story, two story, 3 story, whatever you want.
This have walls to store things no matter what.
It has rooms full of designs and items throughout.
This has a bed, closet, tv, desks, drawers and others.
They have outlets, sinks, showers, air conditioner.
They hold a family for years. Even most important,
Memories that had been shared through laughter,
Even pain, emotions, without luck the best thing.
There ain’t any inconspicuous posters,
It’s not clear or visible at all in the school.
About this time of day may change,
Unless it’s inconspicuous to the eye,
And absolutely of no importance whatsoever.
Even places are inconspicuous;
They include a theater,
Of inconspicuous people,
No one to run into until,
They ome out and show you.
Nobody is hidden,
Until you finally reveal,
Who or what you are,
Whether it’s in a public place,
Or at home,
You will forever hold in peace being inconspicuous.
My friends make me happy as my presents on Christmas.
My friends always talk to me whenever I need them.
Some of them comfort me whenever something sad happens.
My tears telling them I need them.
Even on my birthday my friends make me
feel like I’m the fireworks on the 4th of July.
They help me whenever I had fallen.
Sometimes when I think that my life is over
they still tell me all the great things I have done.
My friends are not really different from me.
When I first met my best friend that moved she
was like the only person that stood up for me.
The next day I went to school then the next thing
I know the bell went ding ding and there I was in class.
Then the next thing I know the end of school bell went
ding dong ding
When I went outside I saw my friends,
my anchors when the waves get big
It’s like if I didn’t have my friends my world would be different.
A sapphire sky falling on a rippling mirror
Reflecting the hues of a golden jewels falling
The dazzling blaze of the golden fire.
Held in the diamond tear of the emerald leaf.
In this moment, the moment of balance,
The garden of jewels comes to life.
As the golden orb descends each gem a new brilliance,
The lower it gets, the less they shine.
Slowly fading to the shadowed scene.
The last thing to shadow is that sapphire sky,
As the light sinks the sapphires change their looks
One last time.
As they slowly fade to black,
Gone are the brilliant gems that once littered the garden.
Little girl don’t be afraid
I know it’s tough right now
but you will be okay
Even though she’s growing older
You can still see her beautiful soul
She can’t help but know that she’s lost in this cold
But she still has hope
She feels blinded by her scars
She expresses herself through her realistic heart
She’s still beautiful
She’s still feeling hope
You can’t help but see her beautiful soul
Words don’t cry
She still has the lovely Spirit inside
And she always feels something ravishing
It’s like an angel standing in light
She can see the world through it’s eyes