Poems for Fathers III

The Worst

I am a part of a man

That I can call dad

But I never get to see again

And the old pictures

That I can hardly remember.

It started at home

You can hear the crying

And screaming.

The door slamming

And the car starting.

Mom grabbing

And running,

Knocking and asking

If we can stay.

The long night with no sleep.

Waking up,

And walking to the bus stop.

Up the long gravel road,

Seeing dad's truck not there.

At school thinking,

Where is he.

After a long day at school.

Getting off the bus,

And walking down,

The creepy road,

Seeing the house

At the bottom of the hill.

Coming home and seeing

My family is all in black.

People crying and looking,

Mom is nowhere to be found.

Wanting to know

Where my father is,

Mom walking up

And saying, "Matt,

Your dad is dead."

-Matthew

Dad

Your tan face, your dark brown eyes

That dusty old Kentucky hat

That you always wore.

The gray hair on your prickly black beard

The strength you got from a couple bottles of beer.

The time you would get so drunk

You claimed we didn't love you.

The day you walked out the door-

The day I hardly remember.

Gone

Not knowing where you went.

The last roar of the dirty green truck's engine.

Built up dirt falling off the back.

That last petty kiss

That didn't seem to mean anything to you.

The times I cried when I heard your voice-

The sorrow I felt in my heart.

The times I won't remember you

The times you'll forget, too.

-Patricia

Poems About Leaving Home

Now We're Gone

Memories of the chatter of the dogs barking,

As the groaning engine was trying to start,

This was it, the last straw,

The last glimpse, grip,

The last inhale of atmosphere,

The very last echo.

The last thing I remember,

The [taste] of the Cool Water cologne,

The glimpse of Daddy before we left

As his embrace strangled me,

The murmur of "I love you Daddy"

Tingled my heart as always,

Before his hard day at work.

As we drove out of the driveway,

My heart was choking,

I knew that it was the end,

And I didn't do anything about it.

We will never go back,

This was it.

-Jessica

Leaving

That day is engraved in my head.

I remember my Tonka truck. My jeep.

I remember packing. Everything.

Then we loaded up

We passed the store on the corner

Where we always bought fruit and candy.

We passed the mango tree

I ate off every day.

The airport got bigger and bigger.

Deeper and deeper

Until a metal bird ate me.

In a second I saw nothing

I awoke with light in my eyes

After all that darkness

I saw two lights at the end of the road.

Two years passed

I'm in kindergarten

The dark abyss of nothingness

I couldn't speak

And still I was in

A dark abyss of nothingness

Later after I learned to speak

My abyss got light and lighter

Till my dark abyss

Became the sunshine world I know today.

-Leo

We Moved

We move again

Mom yelled

"Get up and help pack-up!

We are moving"

As I get out of

My bed I take

A look around

The old house

I thought about

All the memor[ies]

I had in this house

As we were packing

I look at the kitchen

My room, my backyard

[Laundry] room, upstairs

It hurt me inside to see

All the things that I'm looking at

For the last time.

As [we] were driving away

All my friend's were

Waving to me as I'm

Leaving the place

Us moving made

Me mad because

We're moving

Again.

-Jacobi

Hope

I'll admit I got a little choked up reading this article about the farm-to-school movement. It is my dream to participate in a program like this, to help my students access health and nature directly. Still, I feel like there is already such a shortage of time and resources - what sacrifice it would take to get something like this off the ground, I can only imagine. For two years now I've wanted to start an environmental-literacy club. (I'm imagining my kids reading Walden and trudging through Kentucky kudzu...and it makes me smile.) Maybe next year...

Getting with the Times

The importance of using technology to push for gains in student acheivement cannot be overstated, and this article cites some compelling statistics.

NCLB Reform: Duncan Seeks Flexibility to Balance Accountability

In the following article, Arne Duncan outlines guiding principles for NCLB reform.

Sports Poems II

The Big Game

The sweat crawling down my forehead

Yelling through the thick, moist air,

For that perfect pass that would change everything.

The intense moment:

I see the ball fly through the air,

The dull, orange grip touches my fingertips.

Taking nervous dribbles down the glistening court

Be ready for the lay up I think to myself,

Yet did I know,

A foul was running toward me,

Enraged like a bull.

The flashes of the crowd's cameras,

Blinding my wide, scared eyes,

Hands fly across my sweat-filled face,

Grabbing greedily for the ball

Whistles blow-

A silent pause in time

Foul! the referee shouts.

My time has come,

My two shots decide the game,

This is it.

The first shot is gold,

The game, tied?

Overtime isn't an option.

My last breath,

Before the last shot,

Silence fills the gym.

Here it goes...

Swish!

The crowd cheers wildly.

I did it!

No...

We did it.

-Daphne

Basketball

The bold light

Sweaty bodies

Grip of the ball

The sound of the net swoosh

The coach screaming out plays

The intensity of the player

Fire in my bones

The sweat on my forehead

Feeling like [we're] going to win

Nikes on my feet

Impatient to get in the game

this is more than a game

The feelings of win or lose still the same

This is my court

-Deron

http://www.beckermanphoto.com/basketball-silhouette-1-id-1969.html

Field of Memories

The new brown brick dust

That opens up to the fence,

The bright orange sun

That shines memories on the field

I will never forget.

And the cold wind

That whistles through the flat air.

The freshly popped popcorn with extra butter,

And the American Flag that watches

The players [wander] onto the field.

The sound of the horn to start the fans attention

To watch the game begin.

The two teams gather on the dirt,

Waiting for the clang of the bat

Making its way through the air,

As it sends the white leathered,

Red laced ball,

In the bright blue sky

To sing its song.

The earth roars as the game ends.

-Dylan

http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3516/3697444161_69926b444d.jpg

Poems for Grandfathers

My Papaw

The look of your tan face,

The smile that lit up the room,

And those baby blue eyes all made you my Papaw.

The times you would come over and visit all those

Sweet times of going camping,

Swimming and those summer nights

We always enjoyed your company

You got sick the cancer had gotten bigger

And the time left to spend with you was limited.

The night you left was traumatic.

Knowing that I would no longer see you tore me apart.

We all sat there trying to be strong it was very hard,

All our strong faces wore down to sobbing heaps.

the night my heart was crushed,

The funeral was long and sad

The sadness was like a virus,

No matter what it would find you.

I asked mom and dad what had happened

My question was answered with

He's in heaven looking down on you

It scared me at first then I realized you never left,

You're in my heart forever and always

-Alexa

Bye Bye Papaw

I remember spending time with him

In the garage crushing cans.

I remember the crinkle of the cans

As they got crushed.

I remember helping him

Wash Mamaw's bright red car.

Soapsuds flying off

As we sprayed it.

I remember the times he was in the hospital.

Him looking sad and helpless

Hooked up to all those cords

As I watched him in pain

Making me feel worthless.

I also remember the kitchen

In my mamaw's house

The day my mom said,

"He isn't coming home."

-Cody

Fishing With You

The long windy dirt road.

The sweet sound of the Beach Boys'

Sound of Summer.

You're tall

And you always [wear]

Your tan pants

And your "I'm a Grandpa" shirt

You got when I was born.

You say you caught

The biggest fish that day.

Your snow-white hair.

Your skin

Is dark tan;

All yearlong.

I inhale a big whiff

Of stinky slimy

Fish bate.

My ear numb

From the ticking

Of the fishing poles:

Mine tweety bird

Yours jet-black

And Kentucky-blue.

The buzzing of the

Purple and turquoise Dragon-flies.

The over-joyed

Future fishermen

Showing their proud fathers.

The mothers have the babies;

At the playground.

You ask me how

Is school going?

I say well.

Then we wrap it up.

And head home.

Where you hang your

#1 Grandpa

Hat on the rack.

-Shelby

http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3118/3109675976_a4a12229bf.jpg?v=0

Never Forgotten

1948-2009

You are the father

Of my aunts, uncles and to my mother

And the grandfather

To my cousins, brother, sister and I

And you could've turned 62,

8 days ago

But if you're dead or not

We still celebrate your birthday,

And each and every night I see you

In my dreams

I run [toward] you and yell

Granddaddy

And when I give you a hug

I can smell that hard cologne that you put on

That smells wonderful.

Wish I could see you again

And you will never be forgotten.

I love the way

You turned your life around

And gave it to God

And kept the family together

And let God tell you to say

And everything you said was right

You [taught] me how to pray and be strong

And I love you for that.

When you died I thought it was a lie

But when some one dies in my family

I look in the sky and I can see their face up in the sky.

All of the good times we had

I [think] about them every night.

[Since] you helped the family so much I love you for that

And I love you because you're my family

So until this day you [have never been] forgotten

Rest. In. Peace.

And rest easy and we still celebrate your birthday.

-Teryon

Poems for Fathers II

The Shed

The ka-thunk of the nail gun

Forcing nails into the boards

Which will soon hold up the floor.

The thrill of standing over two stories off the ground

Driving in the last nail

Before it is finished.

Two years later, still standing

With everything, everywher on both floors in that shed.

I remember my 4-wheeler atop a cart

All in pieces

Which my Dad used to teach me how to work on engines.

Also a more recent memory

Of him showing me how to sharpen a chainsaw.

It's too bad that when we move

We will have to leae the shed and its memories behind.

I will miss that shed.

-Chris

Old Car

The rusty old Chevy

Coming

Down the street going

Knock, knock, knock

Waking me when I'm asleep.

The rusty old bumper all

Brown and crusty

When he walks in I run up and hug him

The strong

Smell of cologne gets on my coat.

The warm seats in the car heats me up.

The sweet smell of apples

When I get up in the morning

At 6:00 He always warms up

The car when he takes me

to schoool.

I hear the sound pop! Pop! Pop!

As we go down the street

When I get out

Of the car he says "Have a good day".

Then off to work he goes

Until I see him again

That night.

I can't wait until you get

Out of the shop.

I miss you OLD CAR.

-DeMorris

http://www.hybridcarblog.com/uploaded_images/clunker_details_scary_foreign_oil_dependency-772967.jpg

Unspoken Words

The first time I saw you I asked "is that really you?

I never thought that I would be able to see you.

You smelt like Axe.

You looked like I do

I knew that you were my father

I saw you in Kohl's we were in the checkout line

You had really blonde straight hair, green eyes, and you were slim

You were wearing a gray Louisville shirt, jeans and you had a girl with you

I have never met you

I've only seen you once and you kept looking back and down at me

I wonder what you were thinking?

Still you never said "Hi."

I was getting mad because I kept looking at you

You would look back at me but would not say anything

I thought you had forgotten about me.

I was so happy to see you but at that moment

I think my heart skipped a beat

You walked by me like I didn't exist.

My heart poured out in tears

You made me feel like I was invisible

All these years, in the big moment it was as it's always been

Nothing but silence.

I called you the next night and no answer

Again I'm faced with silence from you.

How many times are you going to break my heart?

How many times will I allow you to tear me apart?

Tomorrow will come and again I will be faced with silence.

-Lea

Poems for Grandmothers

Missing You

Remembering all the fun times

That we shared together

Cooking dinner,

And watching movies.

The loud snorting and giggling

From us chasing each other

That people can hear from

Miles and miles away.

Missing all the bear hugs,

And the big plum kisses

I use[d] to receive

When I was sad,

Or did something

That made you proud.

Wishing I could hear

The stories you use[d] to tell again,

About being in the army

For those eight years.

Do you remember a little girl screaming,

"I love you, grandma!"?

I guess I'll see you during the springtime

When all of the snow clouds

Fade slowly away.

Love you, grandma.

-Kamesha

http://www.flatlanderimages.com/photos/Black%20and%20White%20Images/Grandma%27s-handsBW.jpg

Grandma's House

Grandma's house:

The rough red brick walls,

The fresh smell of flowers,

The crackling in the ceilings

And the slow, soft music

As I walk in. I remember

Running up to you

Screaming Grandma! and

Giving you a big hug.

I remember running around

The park and swinging on the

Squeaky yellow swing,

And sliding down

The rusty red slide as

You waited down at the bottom.

Swimming in the aquamarine pool,

That burned my eyes from

All the chlorine,

While watching you in your

Garden that was filled

With bright red, yellow and blue

Flowers as you picked

Out all the weeds.

-Sarah

http://www.monsterpix.com/photos/blacknw/bw06_main-grandma.jpg

My Abuela

I will be there when you're down,

I will be there when you're caring,

I will be there when you're sad.

But I can't be there

When you're in the ground.

Now why can't you be there when

I am caring for you and sad.

I miss when you hug me

And you smelled so, so good,

When I look[ed] in your eyes.

I saw sadness.

-Brittany

Poems from Home

My Old Kitchen

Running out the door, watching

The old spice witch burn

In yellow and orange flames

Cracking and popping noises

Coming from the window, firemen

running through the door, trying

To think positive but couldn't

My sister crying on my shoulder,

My mother telling us it's going to be alright

Walking through the door

Smelling the smoke as it flew

Out the door, stepping on the glass

and the ashes that fell from the

blackened, burned cabinets.

Looking at the burned picture on the wall

and glancing out the backdoor

to see the old burned stove.

Walking back outside in the cold

winter winds, jumping in the car

thinking what's going to happen next?

-Andrea

http://www.spi.com.sg/spi_files/haw_par/pic2/DSCF0151.jpg

Country Memories

Hot summer days playing outside,

The rusty old trampoline

In the middle of our big yard,

Coming in the house

From a long day of exercise

My mom and her homemade iced tea

Just for me and my brothers

My worn down dad

Walking in from cutting fallen wood.

The squeaky floors we walked on

The springy beads where we slept

The dirty walls that we touched

and the Tide smelling clothes we wore.

The woods that we explored

To the firepit we played in

The fist tank rocks in the driveway

and the dried up creek at the property line.

Walking up late

running fast trying to catch the burnt

rubber smelling bus.

Our playful excited dogs,

Jumping on us when we got home.

Our smelly brother in law

and his big rusty truck

Stuffed with bent and dirty scrap metal.

The quiet neighbors

That were kind and helpful,

The rude overweight slumlord

Who was nosey about what we did

The deep mud tracks my brother made in the yard,

With his rusty old truck.

I miss the camping

and the smell of burning wood.

I miss my old house,

I miss the country memories.

-Kyle

http://www.wvdjs.state.wv.us/Portals/0/Splash/CountryRoadRandolphCo.jpg

Sports Poems

Game Day

Warm sunny Saturday afternoons

Digging my cletes into the fresh green grass

Bodies bolting back and forth across the field

The popping of the helmets colliding together

The shouting of joy coming from my coach

The screeching of the referee's whistle

The grip of a football in my hand

Bright beaming sunlight hitting my face

The sound of the crowd's victory cheer

The feeling of accomplishment

The feeling that I gave it my all on game day

-Lanier

http://www.nutrition-for-athletes.com/images/offensiveline-football.jpg

My Last Game

The cracking of the pads

On one another.

The yells and screams of the crowd,

A dirty football flying through the air.

The taste of an old mouthpiece.

The rough ball hitting my hand

And a muddy shoulder smashing into my ribs.

The feeling of a sweaty wristband on my arm

And the voices going through my head.

The game is over the cold feeling of Gatorade

Rushing through my body

Refills me with energy.

My family is waiting for me on the sideline.

The sweat dripping from my hair

Onto my face.

This is my last game.

-Derek

The Sound of A Bang

The sound of a bang

As he hit the ground

I hear somebody say That's how you play D

As I get up my teammates pat me on the back

Good job #51

As I line up

For the next play

I look at him and I see the fear

In his eyes

From getting popped

On the last play

I could tell he didn't

Want the ball again

And that just made me feel stronger.

As I creep up to [the] line

I hear [their] coach saying

Block #51

But

The couldn't block me

Because I'm magic.

When I'm playing football

It['s] not enough to get a tackle

I want to hear the sound of a

Bang!

-Bryant

It's Your Time to Shine

The smell of hairspray

In the air.

Using spray gold glitter

To stand out and shine

The taste of Vaseline on my teeth

Making me want to smile even more.

Always in front

Arms get weak as I base a climb

Popping the moves on point

With the girls

Under the bright lights.

Our routine is finished

Did we do good enough to win?

All on stage about 30 teams

sweaty and weak.

Then I hear first place goes to...

"Fairdale Bulldogs!"

Getting shiny gold medals

To call our own.

Cheerleading is something

That runs in my blood!

-Taylor

http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3258/3268822299_2c9df385ac.jpg

Proposed Changes in NCLB Announced

Check out this article in which Obama, along side Arne Duncan, US Secretary of Education, announces a proposal for sweeping changes in the federal No Child Left Behind program.

Poems for Fathers

Dad

Wish I could stay with him.

Now the fear is here.

Miss his old dirty boots

Coming home at night.

The warm

Kiss on my cheek

When I'm asleep.

Love the cozy hugs

When scared of losing him.

Love to say goodbye when

I know he's coming back.

The old dirty boots sitting in

Front of the door with wet mud

On the carpet.

The family picture with my dad's

Gotee and the light brown hair.

There are some that have

Dads who love and hold them

And there are some who don't,

It feels like there is no one

In this world that you can

Love so much.

Trying to look back in my

Mind to see what's good

About my dad and it's like

My mind doesn't want

Me to feel the pain.

My heart is beating

Boom

Boom

Boom

Then it stops when he is walking

Out on you to leave you in tears.

The days goes by and you don't

Want to move.

-Megan

Now I'm Done.

Out of school,

Rapidly walking to the dead fish smelling baby sitters.

I stare out the cracked window her son broke

That summer.

You came and got me with Gambler,

he licked my face, and I kissed his big black nose

I put on my ragged old shoes, and

You tied them tight.

Thinking about all those memories

I want to forget

Then you were gone, when

Mommy said she was done,

You were never in my life, I wished

I was never even born.

As I was growing up

I got used to you not being there.

Knowing you'd never come.

Since I grew up,

Mom told me everything,

The drugs, the alcohol addiction,

How many people you owed money to.

Crying my eyes out the minute I found out.

Shoving my face in that old pillowcase you got me.

My sister only a teenager,

Standing there with her friend

Having random strangers ride up,

Ask where you were.

Because if they found you

They said you're dead

The silence of the phone

Every Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday night,

You stop calling so I stopped trying,

Now just like mom I'm done.

-Savannah

My Daddy's Old Caprice

'96 Caprice Classic

Indigo leather, golden brown wood,

Next to the silver handle

That looks like it has never been touched

That car was everything

my dad was

One of a kind and classic

Like his style and good looking

Smooth and slick like his voice

Every Sunday morning

We would pile into the Caprice

Go to church

I would always sit up front

In the middle where the handle rose

Because it would always be six of us

Three in the back: Jessie, Jasmin, and Mickey

And three up front: MIchael, Makaila, and Mama

On our way to church

Listening to Kirk Franklin

that's the Reason Why I sing

He would always change the radio

By moving his hand over the dashboard like a magician

And 'til this day I still don't know

What he did to change that station

Everyone grew up

And the memories went up to flames

That day my daddy traded in that '96 classic Caprice

For that big, black, dull Chevy

That looks like a monster on wheels.

For once in my life I felt uncompleted

Remembering his two favorite colognes mixed together

Armani and Curve, smelling like him

Missed his leather seats

Sticking and burning my legs in the hot summer time

Rubbing sound of the leather

How when the sun shine the paint job would sparkle

Like his eyes in the moon light

Now everytime I look in the mirror

I see my daddy and his Caprice.

-Makaila

Bright Night

Stacks of boxes.

Boxes that smell like gun powder.

Boxes that will soon explode

Night comes

And its July excitement

My dad's friends, him and the party

Everyone laughing as loud as

Thunder

In a dark pitch black storm

My dad starts with

Mortar shells

Lighting them with his rusty old Zippo

With a two inch flame

Sparking up the wick

Five seconds later

It sores through the sky

Then it explodes into a blue and white

Color of laughter

And it booms

Into a exciting

Ear bursting noise

It leaves my dad screaming,

"Awesome!"

And lighting fireworks till

He runs out of

Exploding Joy.

-Sean

Runaway

When I was a little girl,

You bounced me on your knee.

When I had a bad day

It was you who I was running to,

You told me it would be okay.

I believed you.

I remember I was seven years old,

The time you left.

All your clothes in the closet were gone,

I couldn't catch my breath.

I fell to my knees cried "Daddy, don't go!"

I loved you all my life.

You're my hero, don't you know?

If I were a better kid, would you come back?

Please come home.

When I was in middle school,

We tried to talk on the phone,

You said you were proud of me,

I shed my tears,

I just wanted you near,

But you were never there to wipe away my tears.

-Destiny