Category: permission

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Una Noche Buena en México

Es la Noche Buena pero yo no veo
lo que normalmente veo.
En vez de las estrellas
veo millones de personas
con una vida,
las luces de sus espíritus brillantes.

En vez de la oscuridad de la noche
veo los problemas
que las luces arreglan
cada día de su vida.

Las estrellas son como los humanos
son luces que nacen,
viven y mueren.
Tienen una vida.
A veces una vida fugaz.

En vez de estrellas fugaces
veo los sentimientos de las luces.
En vez de la luna
veo honestidad, esperanza
y verdad.

Hoy es la Noche Buena
la noche de ver más allá
que solo el cielo de la noche.
Más allá de las estrellas,
es el tiempo de ver la verdad
que es lo que mas importa.

The jungle

Take a deep breath, and you’ll see why you did

The jungle is filled with amazing tricks

The monkeys swing side by side

While the snakes hunt mice quickly but sly

The parrots and toucans are high in the sky

When the panthers and jaguars hunt with pride

Oh the trees the beautiful trees

The mango banana and avocado trees

So take a deep breath and you’ll see

The jungle is filled with amazing tricks

Bernice Kiker Elementary

V

Flow of life

The sun is bright, the sky is blue
The wind is cold, the frost is too

The ocean waves are calm but do stay
The rainbow across the mountain never goes away

There is anger and hate, and joy with fate
There is hope and creation, and sadness with frustration

But all leads to one equation
Light and dark are the same, so as life and death

Creation and destruction are the same
That is the equation of life that we all live today

Live your life, see it through
Don’t have hate but joy with you
And see the many wonders that life brings to you

Be the calm river that is steady and slow
Or go through the stream that is wild and free
And go through the adventures that were meant for you

Don’t go down the path that is written
Go down the path that you write as you go
Don’t let anything stop you, don’t let anything make you slow

Choose your path calm or wild
Flow with life as you go!

Bernice Kiker Elementary

V

The Snow Bites on Winter Nights

As I wake up from this sleepless night,
I see the light on the frosted windowpane.
To the frosted windowpane;
The light comes through you to fade slowly.
This lustrous glow is as beautiful as the new fallen white snow.
To the new fallen white snow;
You are smooth yet coarse, but as brave as a horse,
To fly along the wind without knowing just where
You will ever land.
To the land;
You let the snow fall on you, the wind batter you, the light fade you,
And most of all, never, ever sleep at night.
How can it be?

Covington Middle School

7

Where I’m From

I am from hot irons glistening with steam, from needles that poke and dirty windows that get a scrubbing with the Clorox that we praise.
I am from the old brick New Orleans style house.
I am from football Saturdays and getting reminded the Golden Rule and the smell of greasy bacon and sticky donuts when I wake up.
I am from the pine trees swaying in the breeze and the tomato plants standing tall.
I am from church on Sundays and freckles all around.  From the Mulig branch and the Shirley.
I am from running around the neighborhood and making sweet fresh jelly with family.
From, please get along with your siblings to thanks for setting the tone.
I’m from Jesus died on the cross and kindness will get you through life.
I’m from if you don’t eat seafood you’re not going to like my family.
From crawfish boils and cornbread dressing.
From the Papasitos’ story and the laughs.
I’m from 10035 Clemente Circle.

I am a cicada

My life started in the ground
I was taught to dig at a young age because that was the only way to stay
away from the predators outside.
They could smell our fear and that is how they hunted us
We felt trapped in the place that was supposed to make us feel safe.
We dug tunnels and created these underground communities that were
predator-free.
We would feed upon the roots of the giving tree because everything else was
outside.
This was our life
Dig. Eat. Stay inside…
There are always predators outside.
I heard stories about cicadas who have gone outside and it usually went one
of two ways: they were eaten as soon as they reached the surface
Or they grew wings.
I wonder how it would feel like to fly
To feel a gust of freedom blow off this dirt that has been tattooed to my skin
They told me not to go outside
Because that’s what we were taught when we were young and it seems like
the most logical thing to do right?
But why is it that the place that is supposed to be safe makes us feel like we
can’t be free?
Each year brought me closer and closer to building up the courage to go
outside
Whenever I thought about it, I imagined that gust of freedom again
But I also imagined the predators chewing on my bones.
They hated me despite never speaking a word to me
But they were raised to hate us just as we were raised to fear them.
Then the day came when my shell began to harden
I began to travel to the surface and saw my memories painted on the walls
of these tunnels
My whole life has been down here, but that’s not the life I should have been
living.
I saw the sunlight, the grass, and the sky.
I even saw the top half of the giving tree
It was so much to take in at once but I also noticed that the predators were
nowhere to be seen.
Where the predators ever here?
Or were they made up so no one would leave?
I finally got to the tree trunk and thanked the giving tree for all she has
given me.
My skin began to shed and I felt like the weight of all problems have just
been lifted
I looked back and noticed how ugly my old skin used to be
I could also see my wings and they were ever so beautiful

Guitar

The song of a players
Emotions coursing out their fingers
Into the strings
The rhythmatic
Poetry of music
Being sewn into the atmosphere
Complex artistry
Coming together
Into one full
Sound
Years of
Evolution to
Come the
Wonderful
Piece of art
It is today.
Guitar is not just a instrument,
It is a way of life.

The Single Star

The speck showing
a future among
Sharpie scribbled skies.

A planet who shines
its hardest with
a raging surface.

A white ray ripping
Through the black hole above,
Gouging out soulless eyes.

An Idea written
Out of goals to break
walls emitting shadows

A spot separated
From where it belongs,
though it belongs nowhere.

A strength shown as
It bursts through
What seemed impossible.

The Dream untouchable, but
Desire still sits,
Waiting to be reached.

The Star, alone, one of many.

James Bowie High School

12