Collected Poems by Mr. Ricci's Fifth Graders

Collected Poems

by Mr. Ricci’s fifth grade class

Vartan Gregorian Elementary School

Spring 2021

Introductory Note You are holding in your hands a beautiful thing: poems by children on the cusp of big change!

It has been an enormous pleasure to work with Mr. Ricci’s fifth graders, who proved in these poems that their imaginations contain all possible realities. This anthology is the result of a course for graduate and undergraduate students at Brown University, an endeavor dedicated to exploring notions of engaged community writing through the activity of a communitybased residency. This year, despite the ongoing challenges of the Covid-19 pandemic, we were able to gather virtually and find ways to express ourselves in imaginative language. You will see from the poems in these pages the range of expressive language these young writers have learned to wield, as well as the range of emotional possibility already natural to them.

Our program is modeled on the long-proven methods of California Poets in the Schools and Teachers and Writers Collaborative, which hold that children are abundantly capable of reading, responding to, and getting excited about great literature. In that vein, we bring in poems by Langston Hughes, Joy Harjo, Pablo Neruda, and many others as jumping-off points for their own work. We encourage not only creative writers, but insightful readers of so-called difficult works. Our mission is to place active poets and writers in the classroom to inspire young writers to make leaps of the literary imagination, in the belief that the ensuing excitement and sense of autonomy impacts all other areas of language learning and creative endeavor.

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I am tremendously grateful to my fearless and fearlessly cheerful Swearer Center Fellow, Siena Capone, without whom I would have fallen into a ditch long ago. And I am equally grateful to the Swearer Center for Public Service, which so generously supported this work through both a Community-Based Learning Research Fellowship and an Engaged Course Development Grant, allowing us to print this anthology, among many other things. Thank you to Jane Freiman for her generous and expert help on putting this anthology together, and for her photo which graces the cover.

Eleni Sikelianos Poet, Professor Brown University, Literary Arts Spring, 2021 Participating Students from Brown Siena Capone, Swearer Center Fellow Zachary Baytosh Agata Cudzilo Danielle Emerson Raelee Fourkiller Jane Freiman Hillary Hansen Rhea Mathews Chibuihe Obi Achimba Vicky Phan Kasey Quicksill

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Contents 7

ODE TO MY SHOES by Kate

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DIRT 2 by Zaheim

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UNTITLED by Anthony

10 THINGS THAT MAKE ME REMEMBER TO BE HAPPY by Emiko 11

THINGS YOU CAN SEE BUT NOT TOUCH by Markose

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THESE THINGS MAKE ME FEEL by Fiona

13 GUSTS OF WIND by Liliana 14 CAGED by Eleanor 15 MY POEM by Jordan 16 MISSING by Juliana 17 FARM HOUSE by Jessias

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18 DIANE, THE MASK— by Camille 20 JUST DREAMING: by Frida 21 LIL BRO by Christopher 22 FUN WITH CATS by Liam 23 LITTLE OLIVIA by Aubrey 24 WHEN DUSK FALLS by Noa 25 THINGS THAT PEOPLE SAY by John 26 DEEP DOWN by Roark 27 FOOTBALL by Aniyah 28 HAIR by Oliver

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Ode to My Shoes Kate A grey box Inside was white shoes My dream shoes Two small bunny ears Made into a bow Pulling tight so the laces Won’t fall apart They were as white as a piece of paper Now covered in dirt From the small puddle From the muddy field So comfortable as I slipped them Onto my feet Like a cloud Like a trophy They were my dream shoes

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Dirt 2 Zaheim The Need of home, For worms alike, The depths that the creatures can go For Needs. The coppery smell of -DirtThe dirt feels soft yet rigid at the same time When damp the worms play When Dry the worms stay Underground The little pieces of Iron in the dirt, That’s how it gets its metal-like taste. Don’t ask how I know what dirt tastes like, I just do.

The dogs that dig, the captain cleans the brig, from the dirt on it.

The Need of Home, for people All around The things that they will do For Needs. Working hard for money, commuting to school, every day.

The Wind blowing gently against the vest The ground, Hard, Concrete, —“ShkShkShk”— my shoes go. When Wet the People stay When Dry the people Play In the sun.

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Untitled Anthony The sky is blue, the sun is out, and we should play without a doubt. The birds are chirping, the deer are leaping and I am speechless. The sun is rising you must go to school if you want an education you must be participating.

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Things That Make Me Remember How to Feel Happy Emiko The old wooden cabin by the summer lake The old red canoe that has spiderwebs in it against the shed The bumpy 4-hour car ride to Maine that made me feel sick The glass shards in the door that I broke with my head The mattress that still has rice between the cushions The dress that still smells like butterflies The chirping baby sparrows on the back of the bike The same old food in the same old house The brand new food in the same old house These are the things that remind me

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Things You Can See but Not Touch Markose A star far off in space shining in the night sky.

A dream about something you wish you had trying to get your hand on it.

What you thought the day would be like but its recreation is all it is.

A plane flying overhead its lights made you notice it. You jump trying to touch it.

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These Things Make Me Feel Fiona I miss going on vacation, when I feel the color blue, from when the wind slaps me in the face, and I smell the unfamiliar smells, from where I don’t live That makes me feel ‘, ) chillaxed I miss seeing my relatives that don’t live in my house, more than once per year because of the virus.

It makes me feel the color grey, To not see my cousins, and aunts, and uncles, and grammy and grandma, besides on the computer screen.

When I do see my relatives, I feel XD excited My mom will always help me think that it is ok.

She will hug me, and talk to me in a calming voice, if I’m feeling purple and will leave me alone if I am feeling dark grey.

That makes me feel :) relieved My cat will also help calm me down if I am having a bad day, she doesn’t even have to try.

One look at her, and you feel all fluffy inside. She makes me feel pink.

That makes me feel @_@ mesmerized by her cuteness.

Ahh, These make me feel rainbow

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Gusts of Wind Liliana Gusts of wind sway the flag side to side front to back to front to back you hear the swish swish The scratching sound of metal on metal The wind howling like a wolf ahoo the chimes clinging together bingbing the flag flailing zigzag swaying side to side to side to side

Caged Eleanor 14

Justice.

The caged bird of humanity, Always struggling to break free.

Some of us Have the key But won’t give it.

They hide it instead, pure villainy.

Can’t they hear our pleas?

Can’t they see That people every day are victims of police brutality And watchful, glaring eyes that are not necessary?

Sitting on a shelf of hierarchy In a library Full of books and history, This bird is worth way more than you or me, and will exist for all eternity.

Yet, it is still caged.

Because we didn’t care, Because of our lack of dare.

We need to reach that state of mind Where we realize everything is NOT fine Despite many lies.

When that day comes we can reach high and grab the key, so easily, Wondering why we didn’t just do this before.

The keyhole, Etched with pain and history, We only Can find the key, Open the door, Let the bird Finally Fly.

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My Poem Jordan When I am a scared child I look at the stars at night to go to bed when there are monsters under my bed. When I am a happy child in the afternoon when I play with my friends and when I draw with chalk and sniff flowers and water them so they can grow all the way to the sky and ride my bike.

When I am a child I go inside and wash my hands and have my favourite Ritz crackers. And that’s why I am a child : )

16 Missing Juliana I miss the cues, the whistles of the beach The sound of the silent ripples and frothy waves crashing down on the damp surface, Covered with sharp shards, razor-edged shells The smooth ones with a bumpy surface, inside you hear the echoes of the sea, Whistling your name I miss the flaming sunburns, the sunscreen applied on your back, covering your arms It flakes, fades from the dark rocky shores filled with seaweed and long kelp of all kinds I miss the pool, the smell of chlorine fills the air The lane lines flow in the still melody of a song They twist and turn, into dissolving shapes of blues and deep greens Somehow I know it will be okay, someday I dive down to the bottom waiting out the splashes It feels as if in slow motion I go up to the top, in black and white like a cheesy movie The water hugs me, it congratulates me, warming me in its tight arms I just miss the loud roars of laughter, instead of the winked lines I miss the eyes curving up after a long smile I long for the hugs that will last for a mile, the friends visiting after a while I see neon pinks and bright yellows, just thinking of you I miss, I do, wanting to be with you

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Farm House Jessias There is only one house that has a farm That house was down south by the lake I was on my bike strolling along when I saw the house It was big bright farmers working cows mooing chickens clucking horse neighing Then I saw a little girl sitting on the porch eating a pie I saw a dog running in circles with a woman And a man working in the back As I wave goodbye I wonder What if I had a barn It would be loud but nice There is only one house that has a barn

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Diane, The Mask – Camille Diane, the thing that keeps me safe. The thing I hate but also love.

A simple blue. My favorite color. Blue like the sky, and a tint of green, cutting in with the color of grass. Like when you’re drawing a picture and you want to get the whole scene in.

So I guess it’s more of a turquoise then.

It’s the color that goes with everything. My other masks sometimes get jealous of me wearing her all the time.

She smells exactly like me. Diane, always in front of me. Glued to me 6 hours a day. Take it off for an hour. 5 hours.

But sometimes it gets hard. Because it feels like F - O - R E - V- E - R. Sometimes you have to let it go, like the song in the movie Frozen.

It gets uncomfortable, rubbing on my nose and shredding it down. It feels like someone is pulling on my ears until they stick out of my head.

Still, I somehow get to know her. But not too much or else Diane will get too close, and share how much my breath stinks to the other masks.

So I loosen her. Take that Diane!

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She traveled the world with me, we went to the park across the street, sat through math and reading, then made slime with my friends and went home, finally I got to take her off.

Feels like someone put my whole face back on me.

But remember, but remember even though she’s very uncomfortable I still love Diane much much.

Though I am very sorry, very sorry. Diane, Oh poor Diane, I bought a new mask . . .

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Just Dreaming: Frida Dream Sometimes when you close your eyes, And you turn on the tv in your mind, You can find a show, That’s happy, Like an old memory edited, Thank you, happy dreams.

Sometimes when you close your eyes, And you turn on the tv in your mind, You can find a show, That’s scary, A show, About you running and running, But your legs are broken And when your alarm goes off, You get inspired, And create a book.

Thank you, nightmares.

Sometimes when you close your eyes, And you turn on the tv in your mind, You can find a show, That’s really good, But then forget it when you turn it off, Maybe there wasn’t a show at all, Maybe you are going crazy, Thank you, unrememberable dreams.

Lil Bro Christopher Ethan, You are my lil bro...

You used to be 2 feet shorter than me, now you’re 2 inches shorter than me.

You’re very immature for a 7-year-old, just like I was.

I have some honesty for you.

You get as annoying as someone who uses ALL CAPS. You get angry as fast as a cheetah.

You bother me 10% as much as a Karen.

You use my stuff, you don’t close the door to my room.

You argue with me over the smallest things.

You sometimes stay chill as a sheep.

Although we fight like cats and dogs all the time you still matter to me.

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Fun With Cats Liam Cats, my cats, they like to jump they like to fall and they like to run— they like to sleep all over my house in their little sweatshirts— they like to eat mousse and they like to wake me up in the middle of the night to get them some water.

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Little Olivia Aubrey Olivia was a little girl who loved Books, nature, dresses, and The winter season.

She loved to go outside in a forest that Was not that far away from her Little house.

Every Friday, in winter and fall, she Went to the forest and read a Book she really liked.

Every week, in summer and spring, she went To the forest and ran around, looking For whatever flower she wanted to see.

She was fast when she ran. She was faster Than a cheetah ! That’s who she was, Little Olivia.

She also mostly liked pink dresses.

Her favorite book was The Witch Boy. She loved the white snow in winter.

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When Dusk Falls Noa When dusk falls and the sun drops into the depths of the darkening sky, there are many sounds. A fiery red robin sings with its cheerful voice, indicating the becoming of nightime.

Mothers and fathers hold sizzling pots over loud ovens. Cars, rushing to get back home from a long, tiring day of work.

When dusk falls, the only sound that matters is your own. Your melodic heartbeat playing its wonderful tune that you can clearly hear in the silence of your own mind. The sound of your breath, smoothly slicing through the thick air. The only sight that matters: your own. Your house, the people you love around you, your unique and beautiful world through your own eyes.

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Things That People Say John Fresh as a daisy Strong as a bear Smart as a fox Jet black stare Actions speak louder than words A dime a dozen An arm and a leg Hit the books Fast as a falcon Out of the blue

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Deep Down Roark Anger which fulfilled me down in the deep ocean where I’m alone The dark and scary fish that swoosh beside me are the ones that will make me wake up from my sleep.

The heavy breaths that make me calm down. Where then I reach up to the surface where I am happy.

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Football Aniyah Football is freedom The grass is really green The grass is slippery The sky is blue It’s really hot There is a lot of kids There’s trees There was birds There was a lot of parents There was footballs and cones There was dogs There’s birds singing And there’s white fluffy clouds in the light blue sky There was also a lot of kids that were shy The sun was hitting our eyes but we still made the team

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Hair Oliver Snakes Brown snakes on my head Wrestling Twisting SssssssSSSsss Awaiting the brush Pull, pull, Tug and pull The brush Goes pull Head Head of hair A blank canvas on my head Ponytail Pigtail Cowtail is A curly ponytail Tails Twisting tails on my head Brown Curly Soft like A dog’s coat Making my day As the brush goes Through my hair swiftly Cut Cut my Hair on my head Chop, chop Sharp, shiny razors on

My beautiful hair On the floor Worth it When I look In the mirror Shaped artist-style My amazing hair Hair Hair on my head Swerving in the wind Rushing past me in the car Windows down, cold But not too cold for me Streaming out behind me When I had long hair It was like Snakes Snakes on my head

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