Badgerblog

Es el final del verano
Y la cosecha termina.
Es el alma y el espíritu
Que alucinan.

Lo negro de los muertos—
Sin duda a suceder.
Las tumbas se han de
Romper, es lo seguro.
Lo cierto del negro obscuro.

Lo negro de noche oscura,
Naranja de amanecer—
Sus poderes harán tristezas.
Ya la casa estará segura.

English translation:

It is the end of summer
And the harvest is over.
It is the soul and the spirit
That dream.

The black of the dead­—
It will surely happen.
The tombs must
Break, it is certain.

The certainty of dark black.
The black of dark night,
The orange dawn—
Their powers will make sorrows.
The house will already be safe.

Veronica, fourth grade, Barrington Elementary School

Original artwork by Sarah Meraz © 2009. Thanks Sarah!

* * *

Every fall and spring, Badgerdog solicits and publishes occasional poems from its students. This poem by Veronica was the winner of our Halloween poem contest. Congratulations, Veronica!

“Soon, my darling,” the pumpkin whispered
as a candle flickered within it, “Soon.”

Fall leaves whirled with the flow of music
like fish in a pond or birds in a flock.

The October vines
keep me trapped like spider webs.

How the color orange covers
the pumpkin is how the feeling covered
my body
like scarecrows covered by black-winged birds.

Tell me, how will I look at you
when morning comes?

Collaborative poem from Del Valle Opportunity Center

* * *

Every fall and spring, Badgerdog solicits and publishes occasional poems from its students. This poem by the students at Del Valle Opportunity Center was one of our Halloween favorites. Congratulations!

Stay tuned for the winning poem on Friday.

TVs are eating children!
Cars are transforming.
Robots are coming out of kitties’ heads.
Giant ants are eating chocolate!
Babies are trick-or-treating.
We ran into a haunted house
full of skeletons, ghosts, and bats.
They turned us into ghosts!
We scared the trick-or-treating babies
and stole their candy.
Man, Halloween is crazy!

Chuy, fourth grade, Hillcrest Elementary School

* * *

Every fall and spring, Badgerdog solicits and publishes occasional poems from its students. This poem by Chuy was one of our Halloween favorites. Congratulations, Chuy!

Stay tuned for more Halloween Contest Honorable Mentions throughout the week and the winning poem on Friday.

It looks like a metal snake I had to tame. It
hissed electric guitar chords, and I liked how
it sounded so I didn’t stop. It had a sour
smell and tasted poisonous. I got the feeling
it was telling me to stop but I was
testing it to see how far I could push before
this venomous reptile would bite me. I was
scared and excited at the same time, kind of
like listening for the lottery numbers late at
night, scared you might lose but excited
there’s a possibility you might win.
When I was done I heard cheering, as if
I’d won a staring contest with death, looking
him dead in the eye, his cold black eyes.

Angel, eighth grade, Del Valle Middle School

Trying.
Trying to speak, but when I do
no one listens.
I say it even louder.
Nothing.
Not even the little mice can hear me.
But there’s one person
who can hear me,
and it’s my mom.

Xoe, fifth grade, Baty Elementary School

—after Lisa Jarnot’s “Poem Beginning with a Line by Frank Lima”

And how bones it is to write a frail poem
Murder how murder it is on gun
On the dare and watch the bloods
Go by and how frail it is to be misled
Inside a death and how frail it is to be
Death as it murders inside the house
And how frail it is shaped like a pig
To be filled with hair and murder
And on the street and how frail it is to see the bloods
Inside the bones and knife and how frail the knife is
Killing at night in their trashy way
And burning through the haunts and
How frail is the night shrinking of the bells and
Distant knives and how frail it is to write this poem
As I fall to fall I’m the distant knives in my fish and in flame
The knives in death riding bloods to bones at night

Oliver, fourth grade, downtown summer camp

I remember the church bell at six
When my dog howled on cue, and
I remember that big old dog and the big old witch
Who changed my life forever.
The little thugs in the pharmacy
Who pelted me with water balloons.
They even used a cannon.
The fountain of Lauma with strange magical powers,
The deep secrets of the jungle,
Where relaxation and desperation are the same.
The poor streets of Lurigancho, where
You wouldn’t go after 8 unless
You wanted to get jumped by ex-cons.
I remember “Negros y Cholos”
(don’t freak out: it was a restaurant).
The President of the Republica de Peru (actually Japan)
Who was the reason for me being there.
Professors Carlos y Gladys,
The only teachers who broke me.
The mountains of El Altiplano
Where even an eagle gets air-sickness
(don’t laugh: it’s so cold up there, you can’t even pee).
I remember the day great-grandma died,
The only time I actually cried.
I remember the challenges I face today,
And every time I face them, I remember
All these memories and laugh
(please remind me of these the day I get married).

Jhon, eleventh grade, Del Valle High School