Finally, students worked on and shared pieces of their larger piece of work. They are coming along nicely, and it’s hard to believe that we will be reading these pieces in just two weeks. This summer has gone by fast, and it’s been a blast. We hope to see you at the brunch on August 12 and to see your students this fall or summer for more writing. Thanks again! See you next week for our second-to-last session.

Overall, this week was a blast, and we are so proud of how these students are playing with their writing and pushing themselves past their comfort level. Many of them have expressed a desire to continue our group this fall, so please let us know if you’d be interested. We’d love to continue on!

Dream Poem
by Tara

If you dream of murder, the red blood, gushing blood, a night, a knife in your hand. It means that you are secure, that life is safe, that all the things that happen are meant to be.

If you dream of good and happiness, a smile, a day of sunlight and you get everything you want, it means that your life is unpredictable. That everything that is done may not have a reason.

If you dream of stealing, your heart and mind commanding you to take it, then you should know that life has its consequences. That the truth is the best, even if no one knows.

Day and night, now we all know that life has consequences from here on out.

Good will bring happiness and bad will bring sorrow.

But no one can stop you from your dreams.

Fear
by Fiona

I used to be too shy to speak to someone unless I knew them well.
I used to be afraid of peoples’ opinions because they would think I was just a silly little girl and laugh at me.
I used to be afraid of the ocean because I thought sharks would come and bite my head off.

But now I realize I should be cautious and not trust people right away. Now I hold my head up high and tell myself that it only matters if I think it is good. Now I can’t imagine a day out of the water; the ocean taught me to pursue my dreams no matter what they may be and overcome my fears to do what I love.

Going Inside: CD Player
by Sadie

To go inside a CD player would be like twirling on a ballroom floor. Slowly moving round and round like a merry-go-round with soft music playing through the small space. Though there is not light in the CD player, the music has its own. Your eyes droop listening to soft music then flutter open when a new song echos across the dark room. You scratch the silver surface of the disc with your small feet as you dance and dream of rainbow colored notes dancing around you. Then the music stops for the disc has ended and your spinning has ceased.

We focused on writing two types of poetry, “I Remember” and “Fourteener” poems, taken from Jack Collom’s Poetry Everywhere. We asked students to get vivid with their details. For instance, rather than writing a generic statement like, “I remember when I got my first bike,” students wrote specific, poignant details they remembered from a variety of situations. So, this boring sentence would turn into something like, “I remember my first Schwinn with red, white and blue streamers poking out from the black rubber handlebars. I fell off that bike at the end of Oak Drive and got cinders stuck in my knee.” These poems went deep, and students really took some risks that we are so proud of. In the “Fourteener” poems, students were asked to write one sentence – any sentence – and then rewrite it thirteen more times in unique ways. Many of them built cause and effect poems, and others discussed a memory that will stay with them always. Check out the student work from this week below!

Black Sock (Writing from a unique perspective)
By Casey

Hi. I am the little black sock that you never miss. Do you remember me, or am I just a thing that you own and could care less about? I miss you. When you do your clothes again or your sheets or just when you wash something next, please pick me up and put me in your sock door. I get really lonely sitting at the back of the dryer wondering every day if you are going to pick me up.
Three Weeks Later
This is really starting to piss me off. You have done laundry three times now and you have never once picked me out. I think that you have been ignoring me on purpose. I have screamed and yelled at you every time you have opened the dryer door and what have you done? You have just stood there with a look of almost suppressed stupidity on your face when your eyes have roved over me. I think you must be blind. There I said it. My true opinion of you is that you must be blind or a complete imbecile. That is what I think of you, the one who put me on your smelly feet against my wooly will.
Sorry I must not get emotional here. Sniff, sniff. Oh dear, I think I am drowning.

Alien (Writing from a unique perspective)
By Casey

The bright light subsided and I was staring up at a stark, white ceiling. These things were standing over me. They looked like slugs but big, pink, and without slime or a shell. They stood over me like vultures eying a fresh corpse. Instruments of metal gleamed evilly in their hands as they bent down. I tried to scream and run away but my hands were strapped to the table I was on. The old, cracked leather straps cut into me as I struggled and writhed in pure and utter panic. The heathens that stood above me grabbed my shoulders and pushed me down. One of them lifted a mask to my face and as I breathed in, a noxious gas filled my lungs and I fell asleep. The next time I awoke it was dark and I was on my home planet. I realized what had most likely happened and I stared out across space to the planet I had visited. The blue and green dot on the horizon was small but crystal clear in the red horizon of Mars. Earth, that is where I had gone.

Fourteener
By Yahssyniah

The brown lump on Carly’s bed made her scream.
The brown mouse asleep on Carly’s bed woke to a high-pitched scream.
The scream of Carly scared a little mouse and made the mouse poop on her pillow.
The brown mouse made Carly scream then faint.
The sound of Carly’s scream made her mom come running into the room.
Seeing her daughter lying on the floor made her panic and call the ambulance.
Calling the ambulance made the hospital get even busier.
Making the hospital busier made peoples’ appointments late.
Making appointments late forced a lady who was in labor to wait longer.
Making the lady who was in labor wait made her mad and in pain.
When the man’s wife got mad it made him feel light-headed.
When the ambulance arrived, Carly’s mom was happy.
When they checked on her, they said she was fine.
The little brown mouse gave an evil chuckle that only he could hear.

The Harsh Times I Remember
By Maggie

I remember when I wasn’t locked up in a crate and sent across the ocean by evil men.
I remember when I was a pup in a huge litter, loved just for the sake of it.
I remember when they came. They came with nets and whips.
I remember when all of the men came. I didn’t know how they got there.
I remember when they chased us into small crates with our tails sticking through our legs.
I remember feeling the clang of the crates stacked upon each other and the click of the lock.
I remember feeling dizzy and hungry on our voyage across the sea.
I remember the collars and chains and the steel tightening around my throat.
I remember harsh voices.
I remember watching dogs bite men and growl.
I remember being marched onto the battlefield.
I remember having less value than men.
I remember being shoved into dangerous places.
I remember a huge blast.
I remember blackness and nothingness.
I remember gentle hands and warmth.
I remember a gentle face and food.
I remember realizing that not all men are cruel.
I remember a good home.

I Remember
By Emma

I remember waking up to seeing that my pet fish Sharkie was now just bones.
I remember my mom always wanting to buy bug killer to kill the snails in the garden but me not letting her.
I remember all of the mini swirls I got form Arctic Circle.
I remember that fresh smell in the air of the mornings of summer and the huge snow forts that always caved in before we got the chance to go in them.
I remember the five foot raspberry bush and the two plum trees I would always go pick from.
I remember.

Fourteener
By Liam

My cat Mavis eats mice.
My cat Mavis is an 11 pound adult mancoon who eats mice.
My cat Mavis doesn’t like my cat Toby.
Toby caught two chipmunks and took them into my grandparents’ house alive.
Toby runs a catch and release inside the house program.
The program was a big success because Mavis won’t kill and eat the mice until we’ve seen it while it’s alive.
Mavis likes to chase birds.
Mavis is always like, “here’s a new pet bird,” and then releases it after the door closes.
Mavis and Toby love staring because it’s a professional accidental bird trap.
The fireplace has a door so the bird can’t escape but the cats can’t get the bird.
We try to release the bird.
Toby doesn’t like Mavis.
Mavis and Toby don’t fight though.
I like my cat Mavis.

Fourteener
By Casey

Swedish Fish can speak Russian.
The scrumptious little candies are intelligent.
Candies made with Red 40 are good for you if you are using a Dummies Guide to The Russian Language.
Russians can speak Swedish Fish.
“Ya,” said the little red, fish-shaped, chewy things.
These fish taste good and yell at you when you try and eat them.
My hand dips into the yellow bag and pulls out a handful of fish that writhe and yell things I can’t understand.
If you eat red fish you will be acquainted with all the languages of the world.
Swedish fish can help you with your Russian homework.
If the candies have mouths then they can speak any language.
Swedish fish speak Russian as well as Swedish.
Swedish fish are bilingual.
Swedish fish can translate Russian in your head once you have eaten them.
I wonder if chocolate made in Sweden can speak German.

I Remember
By Casey

I remember that small black and white kitten that I had seen seven days after he was born.
I remember holding Mouse, the cat, as I rushed him to the hospital.
I remember flying back home that same evening on the Frontier plane with the duck on the wing filled with panic and dread.
I remember hearing the phone ring twice and then my mom’s voice cutting in.
I remember my mom sitting me down on my blue bed.
I remember the look of sorrow in her eyes.
I remember her saying something and the moment to comprehend it.
I remember crying my eyes out in the shower every night for two weeks so my parents would not hear, but they did as parents always do.
I remember them looking at me and trying to help, but I was acting “grown up” and I did not need their help.
I remember every year after getting over the pain.
I remember getting Ringo and the pain almost went away.

Fourteener #2 by Casey (inspired by Monty Python)
By Casey

I fart in your general direction.
I pass gas in your area.
I can make you gag.
When I fart you will faint.
The green cloud that comes out of my posterior can cause plague.
I can pop your personal bubble with my noxious fumes.
Your obituary is most likely to read: Cause of death: suffocation.
Here, the exchange of bodily gasses is a major cause of death.
What did you have for dinner last night? Oh, well by the smell of things you had meatloaf.
In France it’s the wine that does it, not the food.
Yesiree, we don’t get a lot of tourism in this part of the swap. Oh fine, it is not the swamp, yes it is the people.
I wonder what would happen if I were to sneeze in your general direction?

I Remember #2
By Casey

I remember opening my eyes in the dark gray light of dawn.
I remember my mom shaking me and telling me to get dressed.
I remember not quite being fully awake and putting my right shoe on my left foot.
I remember part of the car ride to DIA.
I remember the hills of brown grass blearing into blackness.
I remember my mom shaking me awake for the second time that day.
I remember wondering where we were going because we had no suitcases.
I remember going down to the fountains and waiting.
I remember dozing off.
I remember the cheery sound of my aunt’s voice.
I remember seeing the small black bag she carried in her hand.
I remember that it was bigger that a purse and it had mesh on both sides.
I remember her putting it down on my lap and saying, “Look in.”
I remember staring face to face with the bleary eyed occupant inside.
I remember my mom and aunt talking for ages.
I remember that two hours later my aunt left.
I remember the ride home.
I remember the cat sleeping in my lap the whole way home.
I remember the day I got Ringo.
I remember the happiest day of my life.

Next, we moved into our writing activity. Students were given several prompts to consider, each prompt relating to the 4th of July in some way. We then used the prompts to inspire a story containing elements of this holiday. The responses were varied, as some wrote about personal memories from past 4th of Julys. Others wrote fictional stories that took place in another country, while a few chose to write from a perspective unique from their own. We all agreed that we had never thought so much about the 4th of July and its meaning to each individual person in the group.

Finally, we spent time on our larger pieces of work. Students will turn in these larger pieces of work at the second-to-last or last session and receive feedback from the teachers. We are excited to see how their work has evolved.

Thanks again, and here are some student work pieces from this week!

Inspired by artwork:

The Screaming Thing
By Casey

Listening to his IPod, young Edvard Munch (or Eddy to his friends) was taken away to the blissful land of beats and drums. Here in this world he was not bothered by the shrieks and screams of his mother and father as they argued in the kitchen at night. In this world he was treated with the respect of an adult and was not treated last. Also he got the right amount of attention in his world of music and bliss.

“Edvard! Go feed the pigs and cows! We still have a lot of work to do before the harvest!!!!” squawked the shrill voice of his mother.

Cursing inwardly, Eddy got up and went down the long corridor to the treacherous old stairs that led the way to the first floor of the ramshackle farmhouse. With the IPod still on he went to the barn and grabbed a bucket of slop and through it over the fence to the pigs beyond. Lots of joyful squealing ensued. Then Eddy went to the back of the barn and before he could stop and think, a cascading torrent of cold water sloshed over his head and down his back. The music on his IPod cut out with a crackly fuzzy note.

“!(*#**&%$#)+!@#$@%$!” exclaimed Eddy at his older brother Marcus.

The next day in art class, the teacher asked the class to create a picture of what they what been feeling and also what they had wanted to do that weekend. They would have the week to work on it and then they would present in front of the class about the painting.

Presentation day came and Eddy was feeling ecstatic. He stood up when the teacher called his name and said loud and clear. “I have titled this picture ‘The Scream.’ That is what I have wanted to do all my life – scream at my family for what they are doing to me. The two people in the background are my parents ignoring each other. The person in the front is me screaming at them to look at each other and to say ‘I love you and I will never leave you, no matter what happens!’ That is what I did to represent my life in a painting!” To a spreading silence Eddy sat down.

That night the teacher called his parents and when Eddy got home they gave him a big hug and told him they loved him.

Two months later, they were divorced and Eddy was sent to live with his grandparents. The first thing he hung in his room was “The Scream.”

Inspired by 4th of July:

4th of July
By Sara

I could not wait for fireworks this year because in Paris there’s no such thing. I remember when I was really young and every 4th of July we would get lots of firecrackers and light them with friends. I can remember looking at the fireworks explode in the night sky, but after I heard that we couldn’t have fireworks, I knew this 4th of July would be so much different in so many ways. When I woke up on the 4th of July I had to go to the Emergency Room where I suffered then I went to a barbeque then went to the Pearl Street Mall with a friend. Then I realized that the 4th of July is not all about fireworks. The 4th of July is about having fun with family and friends.

The Tragic Tale of the Backyard Meltdown
By Casey

Bonk, plink, swish thud. I landed in the grass and was allowed a 30 second rest. Then a cold sweaty hand grabbed me and was off again. Bonk, plink, swish, plink, bonk, thwack, thud. Once again I landed in the tall green cooling grass. This time I stayed there. The hand did not come down right away. Oh, yes, I thought. I am going to be picked up and put in the old duffle bag and stuffed back in the garage! My thoughts of happiness were cut short by a different hand reaching down and picking me up. Falling, swish, thump, the grass met my face. Picking up, drop, swish, thump, I hit the ground again. Pick up, tossed, swish, thwack, I was sent sailing through the air in a crescent moon arc. Up, up, up, I went into the star speckled sky. Then all too soon I was plummeting like a bird that had been hit by an arrow to the clod heartless gravel pit. Wait a second. I was not falling to the gravel, but into the fireplace! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, I wanted to scream as I hit the flames. My little body started to curl and melt. I screamed out, “Oh what a world, oh what a world.” The last thing I can remember was a stick being poked at me. How disgraceful, that I was to die in a fire feet away from home with some human ape poking me with a stick!

4th of July
By Sadie

July. It came with a spark of colors and a loud, BOOM landing on top of us. One day to go for a day of laughter, food, and fireworks. We had a lot to plan, with only one day to do it. I made sure the house was clean and was kept clean. My brother picked out music and put together a soundtrack. My younger sister put out pillows and chairs to make us comfortable. My mom prepared the food, and my dad made his “homemade punch.” The night came fast, and before I knew it, I was taking peoples’ coats at the door. Hamburgers, hot dogs, bratwursts, salad, extreme maximum double fudge ice cream were all on the table. My sister was fluffing up pillows while my cousins ran around with sparklers and hamburgers. I simply sat enjoying the laughter, the chit-chat of neighbors and family and my hamburger. My dad announced, “the fireworks are starting!” We all rushed to grab dessert then found a relaxing place to sit on our lawn. Pew! The fireworks erupted into a rainbow of colors from red to violet and silver. The man in the moon danced to the music from the soundtrack. I laughed and enjoyed July with colors of rose red, ripe orange, smiling yellow, tea tree green, sea blue and lilac purple. July – a spark of colors and a loud BOOM!

We began our session with sharing our homework pieces, “Observation of a Stranger.” We noticed quite a variety of approaches to this assignment, which was mind-opening. Many students chose to write the life story of someone they saw briefly in a parking lot or passing car. Others chose to write futuristic accounts of where their person was going after being spotted. And still others chose to write about a stranger that they saw more than once and always wondered about.

Next, we moved into a sensory writing activity where students were to be inspired by taste and sound. We alternated between listening to a song and tasting a food and writing in short five-minute bursts. By the end, we had listened to three songs, tasted three different foods, and wrote six story or poem vignettes. Wow. These were mind-blowing. Not one student took the more elementary approach of describing the song or food; every single student pushed him/herself to write a piece inspired by the song or food. Some used childhood memories or current struggles in their writing, and others played with their words creating fun, almost jingle-like, poems. We had time at the end of our session for each student to share two pieces. This was great because it allowed us to see any patterns that emerged in their writing. They are a creative bunch, and I’d have to say these writing pieces were the best yet.

Here are a few examples of student work. Enjoy, and please encourage your students to submit work! (I have a scanning app on my Iphone, so I can take a photo of their work without having to borrow their Writer’s Notebook.)

Inspired by “Four Ton Mantus”
By Maggie

Glass shattered and the tribal fest began. Music began playing in the streets. People saved china to smash against the streets. Charley let his bee hive out. They buzzed in the streets. People played their drums. Little boys banged pots and pans. Young ladies brought out their tap shoes and began dancing a fast Irish jig. Men brought out their out-of-tune guitars and began strumming. Trumpeters lined the streets. An old lady brought out her goose and pig. Honking and snorting rang out amongst the loud noise. Mothers didn’t bother to put their infants to bed, for the noise was too loud. Gagas and goo-goos from many babies filtered into the racket.

Inspired by lettuce mix
By Sara

The sour taste is stuck in my mouth, and the hard feeling makes me wonder what this could be.

The leaves that fall on the ground and the trees that sway back and forth.

Inspired by “Skellig”
By Yahssyniah

We walk to the graveyard to bury my mother. It’s raining. My eyes are red and sore from crying. My father looks only at the ground, but I see the tears dripping off his nose. I wear a black dress that my mother made for me before she died. I walk over to my father to stand by him for comfort. When we reach the graveyard they put her coffin in the ground and start to bury her. The priest talks, but I don’t listen. I lean closer to my father as my tears come more and more.

Inspired by a cherry
By Margaret

The cherry is sweet. This is how summer should taste – sweet! I’m glad to be home. Not my literal home, but where I feel at home. We line up by the picnic table facing the lake. 1, 2, 3! We spit the pits into the air. It’s no surprise that Zoe’s goes the furthest and that Callie’s goes last. Madeline beat me again, but I got third. My favorite number. We sprint barefoot to the dock and plunge into the lake again. Up the ladder, back down the dock and up to the bowl of cherries. One more pit-spit contest and back to the dock. Our endless race seizes the rest of the day.

I am from the messy table,
from my couch and my bed.
I am from the always changing house on the street, the smell of new paint or drywall.
I am from the cacti, the huge tree I climb whose long gone limbs I remember as if they were my own.
I am from Christmas and traveling to do Judo,
from my mom and dad.
I’m from being active and camps,
and from hurting ourselves but having fun when we do it.
I’m from being strong and don’t stop doing what you want to do,
and Happy Blues.
I am from going to my grandparents’ for every other Christmas.
I am from Colorado and Florida.
I am from ribs and brownies,
from the time my dad shot a homemade bow and arrow through a window,
how he had to replace it,
funny pictures in my heart.

I Am From…
by Fiona

I am from jackets,
from sneakers, and goggles.
I am from a safe house that smells like cinnamon.

I am from the honeysuckle,
the willow
whose long gone limbs I remember
as if they were my own.

I am from going to New York when you turn seven and going to New Jersey every summer.
From Megan and Mike.
I’m from nail biting and cooking
and from being super clean.

I’m from “whatever you want to do” and “I love you.”
I’m from “Que Sera.”
I’m from New Years hike.
I’m from Colorado and America.

I’m from dahl and saag,
from bass fishing
golden pocket watches
and the movement of my feet.
I am what I love.

Next, we completed a visualization writing exercise called “Elevator Ride.” In this exercise, students are guided into an elevator, which takes them to their “happy place.” After we return to reality, students write without stopping for ten minutes. The pieces are meant to be a detailed description, using the five senses, of the place they visited in their minds. We then workshopped these pieces and offered feedback to our peers. We were surprised how the “happy places” varied from person to person. Not one place was the same as another. All of the students painted a picture for the listeners, but the pictures varied: unicorns, The Great Wall of China, a city in the clouds, an overlook of Boulder, a childhood home before a fire burnt it down, and an empty garden plot are a few examples of where students went.

Lastly, students had some time to build upon their larger pieces of work. I sat with a few students and read through their pieces. They are really adding up to be something great. We are so proud of these kids and their willingness to put themselves out there and write over the summer. We hope it’s impacting their lives as much as it is ours.

Student work from this week’s “Elevator Ride” exercise:

Elevator Ride
By Yahssyniah

The elevator goes up. The door opens, all around is peaceful. Birds chirp, bees buzz around searching for pollen and nectar. Unicorns eating buttercups. The sky is clear blue with no clouds. I lie on my back, close my eyes. Relax, not thinking about anything. I slowly wake up. I start to walk around. I find a lonely unicorn. I walk over and start to pet it. She looks at me with purple eyes. I can tell she’s smiling at me by her eyes.

We walk around looking at all the sights. Butterflies on flowers, ants on leaves. The unicorn and I lie down looking at the clouds. I look at the elevator. The door is open. I say one last goodbye to the unicorn, then leave. I look at her. She starts to cry, and so do I. The door closes and goes down.

Elevator
By Margaret

The golden doors open. I see clouds, big cotton ball clouds that I can walk on. They move. There is a large green tree providing shade and comfort. There is grass under the tree that slowly melts from green to white clouds. The sun shines down upon the tree. I walk over to it. A little stream or creek sweeps around the tree on its little hill. It is only ankle deep. A little green caterpillar climbs a single blade of grass. I sit with my back to the bark. The grass is not wet. My feet are not cold. I am wearing a white T-shirt and some denim shorts. I am not uncomfortable for the concept doesn’t exist here. A book appears and I start to read. They aren’t about anything. In fact, there are no words on its pages but it just clicks and I am reading. There is no one else here but me, so I do not need to talk. Just to listen. A bird chirps, the little brook babbles, and I am happy and content in unworldly nature.

My Happy Place
By Emma

I walk down a hallway with all kinds of doors – some are plain wood, others are lime – until I see stainless steel elevator doors. I press the “up” button then I walk inside and press the one button that says, “A place of joy and happiness.” After I press it, the doors close with a soft whoosh then I feel the sensation that I’m going up. Thirty seconds later, the doors open. At the place I see I just freeze for a second. There’s so much to take in from the air as humid as it can get before turning into rain, pink and red sunset skies, fruit trees and bushes of all kinds, many sorts of animals that roam around, and to top it all off there is a warm ocean.

After I take all of this in, I start running and the elevator disappears into the mist. First, I take in a deep breath and run to a plum tree and pick its plums then put them in my fruit basket that I didn’t even know I had. Then I pick some raspberries. They are sour, but that is just the way I like them. Soon I hear a voice calling me back to the elevator, and I don’t want to go but I know it’s time to go back to reality. I see the elevator come out of the mist and I press the button to go back down.

After sharing our homework, students completed the “One Question” activity, wherein they thought of a question they always wanted answered, and then they answered it! This activity encouraged many students to dig deeper and tackle profound issues. Kids asked such weighty questions as, “Why is the universe infinitely large?” and “Why are people greedy?” Although the activity brought out a lot of meaningful issues, students were also able to have fun with it, allowing their writing to travel to weird and wonderful places!

Finally, we worked on and discussed our longer pieces. Everyone has started a longer piece, and the genres and topics couldn’t be more varied. Some kids are writing poetry books; some are writing personal narratives. Some are tackling fantasy; others are writing realistic fiction. All of the students seemed to enjoy the time to explore something of their own choosing. We look forward to seeing students’ longer works develop into masterpieces over the next few weeks!

Thanks again, and see you next week!