Student Writing
Welcome to the DC WritersCorps Virtual Coffee House!
Young writers between the ages of 13 - 18 can submit poetry to appear on our site. Our cyber host is Isaac Colon, aka the Rapsodist. You can send your submissions to colon_isaac@hotmail.
Please check out our events pages to find out how to read at our real monthly coffee house reading hosting by Isaac.
2005 Gaston Neal Literary Award Winners
All of the students below were participants in our middle school writing project.
Ariana Faunteroy
Sousa Middle School
Instructor: Livia Kent
Paradise
There are no white beaches here
No beautiful sparkling waters
This is not what you think it is
This is paradise
The sun never rises
The moon never sets
The sea is an everlasting puddle
Of black ink.
Within its inky depths are souls
Of a thousand lost men
Smiles melt off the faces
Of the fortunate
The lost and the distressed
Are in my good graces.
It's dark in my paradise
The stars glitter the sky
They are the only light I see.
Cindy Tran
Lincoln Middle School
Instructor: Ruby McCann
Dark Sanity
dark clouds appear
eliminating the bright sun
silvery liquid falls from the sky
I'm here
in my room
as loneliness takes over me
I can hear the silver liquid
pounding on my window
trying to find a way to get in
I can hear my music
blasting through my headphones
with sadness lingering through my mind
lightning flashes throughout the sky
the thunder booms, echoing
the rain fall more rapidly
memories start to flow in
the day when I was apart from you
the day my sanity grew dark
the thunder and lighting clash
in the sky as the raindrops
spill my story
Danisha Simms
Sousa Middle School
Instructor: Livia Kent
Music
I am Hip-Hop and R&B
My mother is Old School.
I am Rap.
My grandmother is Smooth Jazz.
I am a CD that doesn’t skip.
My grandmother is a broken old record player.
I am filled with music that will make you dance,
Not just Hip-Hop, R&B and Rap
but Reggae songs too, you know,
Daddy Yankee, Nina Sky,
Old School, New School, Go-Go.
I am all types of mixed songs
That other people can enjoy.
Russell Chavies
Jefferson Jr. High School
Laini Mataka
In These Four Walls
In these four walls, I deal with the shedding
of crawling things/and monsters that make noise in the night
in these four walls, is where my mom and sister
got raped by my Pops/because
he went too deep into that crack buzz
so he slapped them all around these four walls.
in these four walls, i sabotaged my body and
released rivers from my eyes because of some
light brown legs that I could not have, but liked
or because I did not get that bike.
In these four walls, things convert swift like from day to night
it really messes you up to see your granny on the pipe
in these four walls, there are no rules
picture yourself a fly on the wall, watching your mom
getting paid so sorry dudes can get laid.
in these four walls, everyone and everything is insane
i should know because it's in my brain.
Daniel Fowlkes
Ron Brown Middle School
Instructor: Melissa Tuckey
Horn of Sorrow
A horn of sorrow shrouds the land from the blistering heat of the sun to the desert sand. Danger strikes all in a big disaster of dying creatures.
Tribe members make them food, clothing, and homes from the creatures.
A silent bell alarms the tribe that disaster has arrived.
A horn of calmness plays the most calming tune while the little ones sleep the sound fills the room.
A horn plays different sound of an inquiring mind of a little one wondering how the dying out of creatures startles everyone around.
Daniel Fairley
Jefferson Jr. high
Instructor: Laini Mataka
Untitled
Her face is like a beautiful garden
I could walk in her presence for days at a time
She is like an antique time piece given by an old relative
Too delicate and too precious to give up
I walk in her presence for days at a time
Just a simple gesture from her could make my day
Too delicate and too precious to give up
Just the thought alone could break my heart in everyway.
Rashida McCray
Lincoln Middle School
Instructor: Ruby McCann
How the Ocean Became Salty
Once upon a time
there was a giant
and he was lost
he had some salt
and some vinegar chips
he sat down & cried;cause
he was in a fog
next to him was an ocean
to him it looked like a puddle
he dropped three chips into the ocean
and then he began to cry
now the ocean is salty
and people wonder why
Paint Me Like I Am: Teen Poems from WritersCorps (2003), Softcover. 128 pgs. Introduction by nikki giovanni.
HarperCollins Publishers;
ISBN: 0-06-447264-7. Price: $6.99.
DC WritersCorps
Josephine Butler Parks Center 2437 15th Street, NW
Third Floor
Washington, DC 20009
Phone: 202-332-2848
Fax: 202-332-5455
