Skip to main content

From Poem to Essay

Tonight six Dream Keepers met at Atkinson Library to begin working on the Martin Luther King, Jr. essay contest. I just wrote five essays for a writing fellowship, so I know how long and hard the essay-writing process can be. Most of the teens asked to write poems instead. Here's the crazy part. When the students showed me their poems—I saw the seeds of essays. "This is your starting point," I said. "Really?" they asked. Yes. Really.

I can't show you those poems—I'll save them for January, when the essays are published. Two students did write acrostic peace poems just for the blog. Two other students wrote their I AM poems as a way to introduce themselves to you.

Enjoy reading. (Then go write your own poems!)


Martin
by Davonn May

Memorable
Achieving man who
Reunited people of all ages. He was a
Truthful man. He also was
Intelligent. He was
Never racist.


Peace
by Daquan May

Prayer
Ethics
Americans
Consider
Equality


I AM
by Andreya Jones

I am brown-eyes, dark caramel colored, long nailed, long haired.
I am smart, funny, goofy, sporty.
I am a cousin, sister daughter, niece.
I am Andreya Jones.


I AM
by Patrice

I am dark-eyed, caramel-skinned, beautiful faced, Indian girl.
I am funny, creative, intelligent, shy.
I am an auntie, a daughter, an animal lover, and a sophomore.
I am Patrice.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Six-word Scary Stories

We've done six-word memoirs. Tonight the Dream Keepers wrote six-word scary stories. Read and enjoy! (Then write and submit your own in the comment field!) A vampire destroys the city with power. —Tramonta Garner (pictured above) One virus. One town. No survivors. —Jaimee Bogard-LaMar, 14 One girl. Many monsters. What's next? —Jaimee Bogard-LaMar, 14 Big zombie eats eyeballs. City blind. —Elisha Branch, 14 One house. One family. Both gone. —Elisha Branch, 14 Knock, knock. Who's there? Killer mysterious. —Derranesha, 12 Baby cries. No answer. What happens? —Derranesha, 12 Ring, ring. "Hello." Please help me. —April, 12 The spooky monster ran towards me ... —Sonya, 17 The worm crawls into the brain. —Sierra The slippery, slimy monster grabs two. —Quintoya Eskridge
Post a Comment
Read more

Long Titles, Short Poems

Tonight the Dream Keepers tried to write short poems with long titles, an assignment from Dawn DiPrince's wonderful book Yoga For the Brain . Here's the example I wrote: What Happened when John decided to Do His Laundry the Old-Fashioned Way: with a Bar of Soap, a Rock, and a River. Threadbare Underwear. The assignment is harder than it sounds, and the Dream Keepers had a tough time with it. But they still came up with some good samples. Read their work, and then try writing your own! By Elly: What Elly Was Left with After She Ate A big Juicy Hamburger in Two Bites. Yummy Tummy. By Leroi: What the Owner Said When He Took His Pet to Meet the New Vet, who Already Had Met a Dog, a Frog, and a Bunch of Cats. Oh No. By Daquan: What Happened When I Took A Bone from a Dog Who Had Had It a Long Time. Fight. Bite. By Tierra: The clock stopped at 11 O'Clock. Tick Tock?
3 comments
Read more

To Be Young, Gifted and Black

Last night the Dream Keepers and I met for the second time this fall. As usual, our time together begins slowly. We would rather talk and eat than write. Giggles abound. I'm tempted to be more teacher than facilitator. Both are necessary--but I sense that the young women work better for the facilitator. Last night we read together the poem, HOWL by Nikki Giovanni from her new book of poems, Acolyte. The poem is dedicated to singer Nina Simone, who write a song called To Be Young, Gifted and Black inspired by a play of the same name written by Lorraine Hansberry. After reading the poem, the two young women decided to write on this theme. Here is their work. As usual, it is moving to me and I hope for you. Young, Gifted, and Black by Natalie Branch I am young, smart, and African American. I know that may seem like a little, but it's saying a lot more than you know. To people like my sister, being young means not having your own voice and always having to prove yourself. To me, be...
2 comments
Read more