MPitS | Point Arena Charter High School 2005/2006 |
Untitled
There is a difference
Between those who love you
And those who bore you
Between the eyes that watch nervously as you learn
Grow, eyes that tear up as you grow up too fast,
And eyes that look like your own
Between the hands and heart that guide and cherish you
And those that took you gently from the doctor's arms
The heart whose rhythm was your world
There is a difference between you
And the world, between who you were
Who you are and who you might have beenA difference you must see, acknowledge
One you can never overcome, never understand
Why you are the one left to face it
Your lips leave a smudge on the glass over their faces
Wipe it with your sleeve and place the frame back on your bedside table
Your tears will have to fall on different shouldersUnconditional love is no longer guaranteed
to you, but it is still out there for you
you must learn to trust in a way that only you can understand
trust that he will not mind the snot you leave behind on his coat
trust that though her eyes don't mirror your own, her love still blankets you
trust that there are people left you wont judge you
when you are wrongMom and Dad
These palindromes are deleted back to front
Front to back, from your vocabulary
The sheer curtain between you and the pity in other's eyes is torn down
It may take time for your shoulders to straighten,
for love to escape from your heart
You must overcomeThere is a difference between who you are now
Who you were then
The you that you will become and who you might have been
There is a difference between how those would have thought of you
And how they will see you now
Now you have to make a differenceGina Lappe
12 th Grade, Pacific Community Charter High School
Role ModelsThere is something I want you to know but I'm sure you already do. This is the age of acceptance the age of if it feels good do it. Morality is merely a state of mind and is as flexible as a rubber string. Love is disguised as sex and physical attraction because it rarely last. We are led to follow and obsess over the lives of actors and musicians. The poverates always telling so many truths and lies that soon you no longer know the difference. Roll models that cheat on their spouses who get married and divorced within a matter of months. They may be good actors but I would never look at them as roll models, their lives have no stories that haven't heard before. High school is often the same you hook up, cheat, breakup.
Paul Rogers
11 th Grade, Pacific Community Charter High School
UntitledMan I don't know what to write
I had an idea but I'm in a fight.
Trying to think of something fast ain't easy
Because if I get too rushed it sounds quite cheesy.
I'm working hard at getting it and its not funny
The more I think I'm getting closer the more it feels like its runny.
By runny I mean it falls apart when you are only half way
It slips between your fingers before you can even say hey!
This is kind of weird, writing about not writing
But that's no reason for plight.
Aidan Nivan
10 th Grade, Pacific Community Charter High School
Provisional PermitMy lingers clutch the wheel
My sisters in the back and goes on
And on about her problems at school
Boys and girls
I look off the road as an Escalade
Swerves to miss me
I recognize the stereotype
I think about screaming out the window
"Watch Out"
I decide not to
The car continues to move
Should I brake going 60 and spin out?
I test the limits
But some hormone keeps me back while another
Pushes me on
Feelings flood my mind
Why should I stay on the road?
What keeps me from killing everyone
With the turn of a wheel
Is it emotions?
Problems?
Bad driving?
There is nothing between death and me, but my mind
My fingers touch the wheel
As I roll into a curve
Zack Babtkis
10 th Grade, Pacific Community Charter High School
UntitledDinner last night was non-existent
just a dream
just a dream in a haze of Monday night
I wish a girl would jump in my lap
and tell me with conviction
that I was hers
but my girlfriend is non-existent
The time of stuffing a crushes locker
with passion filled flowers is over
Dreams I care about can never be revived
I've given up on wish
and have decided to allow time
to pass until a miracle comes along
and slaps me in the face
See what missing a meal does to you;
the feeling of an empty stomach
resembles the feeling of an empty heart
that must be why I have indigestion.
Paul Rogers
10 th Grade, Pacific Community Charter High School
UntitledWhy do Americans have to complain?
It is like that there is always something to
complain about
If we could just be happy for once
it's either we are in a pointless war
or we aren't in a war
The American people are never to be satisfied
The problem is that our government is too loose
It allows the division of its people
Europe does not have this problem
We are supposedly "better than them"
There are to many uprisings in our past
Most that were pointless
Such as the Boston tea party
It is looked at as the turning point
but if you ask me
it was a few drunken men that did something stupid
The king taxed the tea and he had every right to
Our government taxes us
so what's the difference
There is also the Boston massacre
This is odd because from what is shown in our text
Dylan Volpe
9 th Grade, Pacific Community Charter High School
There is no manual on baby-sitting.It's just assumed that once you're fifteen,
And if you're a girl,
You can hold a baby in your arms without panicking.
That Mother Nature sets in,
And suddenly your breasts lactate,
Your reflexes sharpen,
You understand the language of babble
You can tell one cry from the next.
There is no manual on how to baby-sit,
As you take her from her parents,
Hold her with both hands and watch them leave through the front door,
Lock the deadbolt.
Your arms are heavy, suddenly,
With this creature who isn't yours,
Who stares at the room around her with wandering eyes,
Whose mouth opens slightly,
whose silky hair touches your cheek when she turns her head.
They have told you the minimum:
"Support her head", "hold the bottle up",
and "wink at her, she loves that".
But there is no manual, no disclaimer, no expiration date.
No, you've just landed yourself with a baby,
A living, breathing being,
And with all the weight in the world
You take her from her parents' arms
And it's up to you.
But you should know.
Don't all women?
Aren't all women good mothers?
Don't they nurture?
When they're born, aren't they born knowing
That someday, they'll have their own?
So if you're fifteen, and you're a girl,
You'd better practice for what will someday be you.
Someday you'll change diapers and vacuum
And take the stroller around the neighborhood.
You'll have a husband, and he'll go out,
He'll make some money, and he'll come back.
And after seven years, you'll fall out of love,
And who knows, you'll probably have another one,
maybe a third, a fourth,
Your arms will be strong from so much lifting.
So much holding on and raising up.
You'll be the expert of vomit,
The expert of cleansers,
of burping, crying, calming, and soothing,
Of Gerber Baby bottles, of strained peas and mushed potatoes,
Of how to pee and hold a baby and tie your shoe at the same time.
Of taking care of someone,
Of giving things up,
Of being docile.
And you'll teach her to be docile,
Until she has her own.
There is no manual on baby-sitting,
But I guess it's pretty self-explanatory.
Just hold her when she cries, feed her when she's hungry,
Take her for a walk,
Right?
I can do it.
A girl over fifteen.
Sounds great.
Danielle Spoor
12 th Grade, Pacific Community Charter High School
Remember.Put away the pain, look past the now,
It wasn't pain then
Or was it?
It was whatever you made it to be.
So put on some music,
That song you hoped never to hear again.
Bend down, squeeze yourself under the kitchen counter,
Rummage through the bits and pieces of trash,
The ones that missed that basket.
And find the remaining scraps of paper,
Those ones you tore up,
from the picture by your bed,
so long ago.
Piece them together, with a little tape,
Trying not to look at the forming mosaic of pixilated memories.
A lock of hair,
half of a smile,
an eye.
The purple and black striped shirt. It never did fit right.
Trying not to remember. Trying not to.
Not yet, anyway.
Turn the lights down low,Put your headphones on.
Hear the song,
The one you two sang in the car,
And the lyrics seem to have been written about you.
The one you swore not to listen to ever again.
Misplace the now, the people there,
Don't worry, its not that you don't care about them,
But you need them to cease,
Desist and not exist.
For a moment at least.
Bite your lip if you must,The song is almost over now,
Pick up the collage you made,
Of the picture portrait you tore up,
So long ago.
Remember.
Leo Barton
12 th Grade, Pacific Community Charter High School
Rip for DestructionThere are few, but enough
many, but too little
a nickel used to buy a meal
but now you find them hidden in pigs
There used to be silence
a species of silence so silent it can't be found
but now Stupid Unusable Vehicles or SUVs
suck the earth of all achievement
and leave it rapped, crippled, empty, bare
It's selfish, and we know this, but
we continue to mate and add
to our already monstrous population
What we need is force
we've already been warned
tsunamis, earthquakes, bombs, wars
how much more can we really take?
Asa Parsons
10 th Grade, Pacific Community Charter High School
TransitionI remember
going in to the bar and getting turned back into the cold
"this isn't an Amtrak Station."
We sat on a fake wooden bench
I caressed the thin plates with my numb fingers
and tugged on my mother's elbow flap
twisting it into shapes
I though back to
the slanted yellow wall at the top of the stairs
in our old Boston apartment
the walls were bumpy
and the smell of mothballs would
come out on hot days
I remember
the bristly bushes
on the way to our new house
I wanted to touch them
Zack Babtkis
10 th Grade, Pacific Community Charter High School
Welcome to the back alleythoughts run off mystery
who is a person that you understand?
questioning the look in someone's eye
people are a mass of flesh
but there must be something else there
shivers hearing someone talk
followed by silence
just daily lives
I trip on someone lying in the gutter
I think they might be dead
going back
smoke rises and hovers
people begin to slump
this image follows me
what is its reason?
but others have it too
I see it in the eyes.
Zack Babtkis
10 th Grade, Pacific Community Charter High School
I remember m y grandmother's shag carpetthe greeny-yellow color mixing with my sister's hair.
I remember her old TV too,
clicking through the fuzzy channels, adjusting the antennas
knowing that we really just liked playing with the knobs.
I remember her couch, the springs squeaked as we bounced
up and down
up and down.
I remember the stove in the kitchen
it was scary, but fascinating
I remember jumping every time it popped as it turned on.
I remember her counters, her sink, the old metal teapot
and the sound it made when the water was boiling
I remember being jolted out of sleep as my mom
rushed into grandma's kitchen
"someone was screaming"
It was the teapot.
I remember my mom saying there was the first sign
she talked to my dad about chocolate and my grandma's fridge
being dirty and her house being too cold in the winter.
I remember being left at the park and the fear that made my sister cry
I remember that being the second sign.
Hanna
9 th Grade, Pacific Community Charter High School
I remember when he would come in after darkdirty and smelling of gasoline from his tractors and chainsaw
I remember waiting by the front door
excited and thinking of what gift he would bring me this time
I remember waiting for hours, never getting bored
with my simple five year old thoughts
I remember the excitement that would run through me
when I heard his truck pull into the drive way
I remember waiting eagerly by the door
brushing my curly blond hair out of my eyes
I remember the sound of his boots against the pavement
I remember the way he teased me, opening the door so slowly
I remember watching the knob slowly move
I remember when he would open the door, always expecting me
I remember jumping into his arms
searching his shirt pocket for my present
I remember hugging him and shoving my face into his shirt
I remember the smell of Old Spice, more powerful
than the rest of his scents
I remember the reason I wrote this poem
Christina
9 th Grade, Pacific Community Charter High School
My Favorite MemoriesI remember cantering on a field and waking up
with my horse grazing next to me
and my hand and head aching
I remember the sand sifting through my toes
as I ran in the waves
I remember being rolled up in a huge comforter
shivering from not wearing a wetsuit when I went body boarding
I remember flying down the hill on my snowboard for the first time
I remember walking the streets of San Francisco
with my sweatshirt soaked all the way through
I remember falling off my horse and right into a fence
I remember sitting up and laughing about it with Alexa
Aubrey Power
9 th Grade, Pacific Community Charter High School
I remember not knowing why someone would wasteso many spoons by hanging them on a wall
I remember the indent of the wall
at the bottom of my grandma's stairs
it haunted me because a long time ago
a child fell down those stairs
I remember my grandma would never cover the indent
it was a warning sign
I remember going to visit my grandma last year
and noticing the indent had been covered by a picture
it was like my grandma didn't need the warning sign any more
I was no longer a little girl playing on the stairs
I remember Goldie the gold fish, my first ever pet
I loved Goldie dearly until my brother flushed it down the toilet
I remember the small memorial on the toilet
in honor of Goldie
Ariel Robili
9 th Grade, Pacific Community Charter High School
I Remember My FamilyI remember you
I remember the 38 sweaters knitted
I remember the hard, cold ground
I remember the gun shots in the distance
I remember the abuse you gave me
I remember not being able to close my jaw
I remember the water taking over my lungs
I remember going blind
I remember the school where I taught
I remember running through the city while it burned to the ground
I remember meeting you in a café
I remember running off to Greece
I remember being embarrassed of my brothers
I remember being born
I remember my trailer
I remember the drunken fight
I remember my frog
I remember tasting blood after you kicked me
I remember knowing everything about you
I remember never seeing you
Alexa Meisner
10 th Grade, Pacific Community Charter High School
I Remember San CarlosI remember bugging my brother
while he was doing homework in his room
I remember sitting and watching him do his art
I remember his room in the house in San Carlos
the window looking out back
the whole window sill covered in odd shaped bottles
filled with highlighter-tainted water
I remember turning on his black light
and watching the bottles glow along with everything white
I remember playing games with him
I remember the tickle of death
I remember calling him NaNa
I remember playing pool when we were little
having to play while sitting and wacking the table
I remember me and my sister playing with his blue chalk
even when we knew we weren't supposed to
I remember sitting and watching the grown ups
playing pool and wishing I was that good
I remember Thanksgiving, when the pool table would turn into a dinner table
and the whole family filled the house
all the kids would go up into our rooms and trash them
even if we blocked the stairs, shut the doors and told them not to
Danielle Kronk
9 th Grade, Pacific Community Charter High School
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