HIGH SCHOOL STUDENTS

​

 

TO LOVE A WOMAN 
 
i can’t sleep 
thoughts of you pervade my skull 
i think about 
your thin lips  
and missing tooth 
your pimples and your dimples 
your messy hair 
and gold earrings– 
 
earrings that were your grandmother’s. 
 
i think about how 
i notice everything about you 
and i wonder if that’s good or bad 
 
i notice when you wear loose shirts 
and know you were insecure that day 
i notice when you wear short shorts 
and a fitted top 
and know that you felt confident 
 
i notice how you look when you’re laughing: 
you slap your knee 
and scrunch your face, 
blood rushing to your cheeks; 
your laugh is staccato,  
short hiccups of sound 
 
your eyes are this gorgeous baby blue 
i could stare into them for days; 
drown myself in your beauty 
 
everything about you is  
magnificent 
every curve and crease 
your big thighs 
and dainty fingers 
your innocence 

that i love to ruin 
 
your delicious hips 
and scrumptious neck 
all of you is mine 
 
i want to claim you, 
mark you, 
i want all of you 
i want to 
drown myself in your beauty, 
suffocate between your thighs 
 
maybe i’m selfish 
but the truth is 
although i say you’re mine, 
really i am yours. 
 
you could break my heart 
in a second 
but i’m screaming your name 
after a single touch  
 
your dainty fingers 
perform their sinful actions on me 
and i come undone 
 

Anonymous  
Edward R. Murrow High School

 
APPLE TREE 
 
Night, 
please pass a little gentler. 
Unwind the matches that we see 
like the ones underneath my mother’s apple tree. 
 
Can the shadows foresee 
further into the abyss. 
All I ask is for the blissful sleep 
to take me underneath my mother’s apple tree. 

​

Unlit sky, make me flee 
back to when I was free 
underneath the apple tree.  
 

Isabel Acuapan-Santos 
Edward R. Murrow High School

 
DEAR ABSENT FATHER 
 
Dear absent Father, 
I thought you were in the past, 
but 365 days have passed; 
now I pray I do not falter 
whilst I recount my a tale, a tale you fostered. 
 
Here I stand, awaiting your arrival in a home so vile, 
mocked by the morphing glares of passing headlights and snares; I am 
collapsing under the weight of empty promises, 
blinded by what hides behind the smile of a liar. 
I am defeated by silent sirens, bruised, 
elbows purple and blue from holding my hopes up for you. 
 
Here I lie, awake at 3 a.m.; I am 
embraced by a feverish hate, sadness untraced— 
except by saline taste— 
a fallen angel subjected to disdainful deception. 
I am a poet whose mind has been a quiet riot since its infection; 
for I am a pariah searching for an absent messiah, 
exiled by the will to which you are entitled.  
 
Here I veer, almost alive amidst affright, 
numb, for I am he who succumbs to your plight; I am 
losing my sanity, for your vanity threatens my humanity. 
I am confused, feeling used, for you are amused 
as I am abused.  
 
Here I pray, an aberration of red carnations 
blooming from what remains of my shattered glass veins, 
from the lines under my eyes—not wrinkles, 
but the winding roads that lead to my pain; 
I am drawn into a fray, for you led me astray 
in the devilish game you made me play.  

​

Here I mourn, in a sactuary formed 
from rivers of tears turned to oceans of fears,  
for you no longer bother to be father,  
for the only memory embedded in me is 
trying to determine if you are the enemy. 
 
Here I rise, undoing my demise and your twisted lies, 
for it is imperative that I change this narrative; 
I am turning my fears into tides of pride 
to stride toward my future and repair this suture.  
 
Here I’ve grown, existence is my own; 
yesterday is history, tomorrow’s a mystery. 
I have won this game of chess— 
your name shall not equate to my success.  
 

John Amato 
Collegiate Institute for Math & Science

 
ONE DAY 
 
One day, I hope to climb up the steep rocky hill that awaits before 
just to reach the door on the peak and discover what lies behind it 
of course, right now I’m tripping over rocks 
but soon enough I will be tripping over boulders 
and I know that some days I will feel like giving up 
and forget about all of my accomplishments 
and I know that some days I will meet other people on my journey 
and they will tell me to stop climbing because it’s not worth it 
but then I’ll look up at the sky and remember who I am and what I want to be. 
 
And finally when I reach the peak of this hill 
I’ll open that door 
only to find it shut right back in my face 
and that’s okay 
because I will remember what I have accomplished this time sad 
and at that moment I will see the beautiful view 
I will see the stars even if I’m not touching them yet 
and instead, I’ll open my door 
and find myself approaching my destiny 

reaching the stars  
and changing the world with every step I take 
 

Sakura Barthelemy 
Robert F. Kennedy Community High School

 
BLACKFEET 
 
tiny          charcoal feet          dangle outside my window pane 
white soles that are far too small           to be a man 
oh no                                                          that’s a boy 
little negro feet          mangled in knots and rope          outside my abode 
his ivory side              matted    in his blinding 
red gore 
 
it’s always sadder       when they’re  
a handsome                black boy 
a handsome                smart         black boy 
there is nothing more                 dangerous 
than that                     or at least             alive 
 
see         he had a                           bad habit of wanting more 
a fault for flying                           too high 
a victim of                                     working hard and expecting something in return 
 
he should’ve known better 
that to be so              abiding 
he should’ve known better 
than to                        open care doors 
than to                        stay up watching rom coms with his sisters 
than to                        rub his mother’s tired toes 
than to                        be a good boy 
he should’ve known 
that chemistry was               not a            negro’s science 
why wasn’t he told 
that school wouldn’t           offer him anything more  
than practice              for future detention 
 
why did  he lust after           a world  that saw him as 
nothing more than a            future convict 
nothing more than a            white woman’s potential rapist 
nothing more than a            pair of dark feet

dangling                      from my neighbors’          willow tree 
soaked in his redness 
 
he should’ve known             he should’ve 
 

Julie Bazile 
Edward R. Murrow High School

​

WHITE LIGHTS IN DARK ROOMS 
 
I live in a doorway 
Between heaven and hell 
Where the devil and god has their own space 
Hell has bodies all over the room 
Souls sucked up like a vacuum  
Dreams and memories gulped like blood 
 
Shadows of darkness  
Fear of being buried alive 
With no flowers 
Your son too scared to see you flat underneath the tombstone 
 
Darkness in me around my chest  
Inside my eyes I see the dark forest  
Everything else leaves  
But the darkness tries to escape  
Release itself  
So it could look for the next souls to haunt for life 
Ancestors guide me  
But I won’t listen to them 
They try to tell me there is something right behind you 
 
In the other room 
Healing  
Trust 
A waterfall of holy water  
A big cross up in the ceiling in the middle of heaven 
To keep Hell from entering inside their home  
Life  
Strong and kind-hearted 
 

Kathleen Elena Bernardez  
Bronx Academy of Letters

​

​

SUPERNOVA 
 
Do you remember the time when we were kids 
the pictures that we used to draw as our imagination took us to the moon 
those crayons were our rocket ship 
painting our red, black and blue thoughts 
creating the unknown 
 
That rocket ship has flown its way into the present 
and for that 
I’m sorry, I’m sorry for what we’ve become 
 
We live in this convoluted society 
wherw we don’t know what’s right or wrong 
we live in a time where the pink crayon paints conversation 
ones that mean less than that balloon floating in the sky 
everything happens through a screen 
a one way mirror 
where we see which lollipop is our favorite 
purple, red, or green? 
the more flavors we have earns more like 
the thing that validates us 
 
I have to be picture perfect 
if not 
who am I? 
 
We live in a time where drawing with blue and red is dangerous 
to walk down the sidewalk and wear a hoodie wil have you like a cat caught 
by headlights 
where those blue and red lights signal the hunt 
those polar bears are hungry for the walrus 
they hunt us 
capture us 
eat us 
they love this game of tag 
 
We live in a time where drawing yourself I that red dress you love 
is bad 
where if I walk down the streets, it’s my fault for wearing those jeans 
it’s my fault for wearing that skirt 
it’s my fault for wearing that tank top 
because all I am is a piece of cake 

something that will ravish your hunger 
they always want a taste of the strawberry shortcake  
 
It’s a ME, not you, type of world 
a dog eats dog society 
where if I’m depressed I’m overly sensitive 
if I don’t look like a model I should exercise more 
if I’m gay there’s something wrong with me 
 
There’s no US 
this world thrives off of ignorance 
they are too blind to see that if we band together we can create a bed 
of roses 
and flourish off of the sunlight 
happiness all around 
no animosity 
no politics 
no war 
just peace 
 
Why can’t we be stars? 
Shining ever so brightly 
in the morning and night 
 
But it’s OK 
I’ll just live in my façade  
remembering that sandbox that we loved 
those times I ate too much candy 
it was easier back then 
 
Don’t you agree? 
 

Jada Case 
Benjamin Banneker Academy

 
EPIPHANY: WORDS, BLOOD, SWEAT & TEARS 
 
Books, 
thin or thick, 
small or large, 
are a reminder that 
I  am  literate.  

​

1948— 
In the rural towns. 
Poverty stricken, 
famine was rampant. 
Education is only— 
a   far   away    DREAM… 
 
A yong boy 
packs in his scholarly desires 
and quits school 
to fead a    FAMILY. 
 
Age 16, 
married 
working 
  barely  literate.  
Past ambitions buried under the duties of a man. 
 
Age 40, 
immigrant 
barely literate 
seeks

a 
chance 
of 
new 
life.

 
It’s never easy— 
foreign  
English 
words 
low wage 
hard labor 
J O B S 
 
Young kids 
A T T A C K 
them. 
 
“Eww, they’re yellow,” my grandpa recalls. 

​

Jet black hair, 
now laced with white, 
a little tired. 
 
I close my eyes— 
thankful for all the OPPORTUNITIES I had.  
 
“Head held high, always remember that.” 
 

Helen Chen 
High School for Dual Language & Asian Studies

 
THE MYTH OF ORPHEUS 
 
Orpheus was a master of strings 
On his lyre he played the song that he sings 
A thousand Greek women would follow his art 
Yet only Eurydice captured his heart 
Their love was a thing of beauty and joy 
But then came a serpent who thought to destroy 
With one strike, Eurydice took her last breath 
And fell to the power of unyielding death. 
 
This tragedy could drive a man to despair 
But Orpheus felt that this death was unfair 
To Hades he journeyed to rescue his love 
And bring her back out to the land up above 
The underworld’s watchdog was ready to feast 
Til Orpheus played a song, soothing the beast 
And Hades—though at the behest of his wife— 
Made this speech concerning Eurydice’s life: 
 
“Your songs are a wonder, your soul full of pain 
But I cannot let the dead walk again 
There is one way I can accept your appeal 
Therefore I implore you, consider this deal 
Your wife may return to her old home on Earth 
A great resurrection, a lovely rebirth 
But there’s one condition—I’m no maniac— 
On your journey out, you must never look back.” 
 
The offer accepted, the lovers began 

A journey back home to a beautiful land 
A long trip it was to the Hadean gate 
But such a small price to escape a dread fate 
The trip was near over, the end was in sight 
But just as the two were approaching the light 
Orpheus turned, thereby ending the tryst 
And Eurydice disappeared into the mist.  
 
Poor Orpheus failed so close to his hope 
With only his music to help himself cope 
He played in the forest, depressed and alone 
His songs held despair in each chord and each tone  
In woodlands he played and in woodlands he died 
A man without love, without hope, without pride 
A sad tale it is, but something to learn 
Can be gleaned from the trip and the failed return. 
 
We we should look back, we can’t see what’s ahead 
We replace a new world with the old one instead 
All men make mistakes, but once they are made 
We can only move on, whether sad or afraid 
A new, brighter future we seek to create 
One where we’re not trapped by the whims of our fate 
We forge a new path, we build a new route 
Our hope’s in our hands if we only reach out.  
 

George Chudley 
Bronx High School of Science

 
TIME 
 
Hey, I’m sorry  
I need to talk to you. 
Lately, 
All I can think  
Dream 
Is you.  
Every day more afraid  
About the things, that makes me, 
Wanna chase you.  
Tryna’ catch you  
Not to kill, 

​

Not to cripple you, 
Just to hold you.  
Not just for me,  
But for all the people  
I’m close to because,  
To me it looks like 
There more important to me 
Than they’re to you.  
Why? 
Don’t you see it? 
Let me give you another view. 
 
All the people that push me forward,  
The ones who pick me up  
And tell me “it’s not over”. 
To me it looks like you’re the one 
Making them grow older 
You’re the one  
Making little Timmy think  
“What happens if I can’t start over?”  
You’re the one making their heartbeat 
Pump a little slower, 
 
And hurts cause… 
I only realized it now  
That I’m older. 
Till it ain’t pumping no more blood, 
Can’t you see I’m scared of being alone. 
 

Joremy Cruz 
CAPA Centro Sor Isolina Ferré Caimito

 

LOST 
 
Not sure how I feel, 
confused and concealed. 
You were once my sunshine, 
now you’re my rain. 
 
Once filled with joy, 
I’m now in dismay. 
I shed my tears, yesterday. 
I’ll be all right; I’m okay.  

​

Not happy nor sad; 
not stresse nor glad. 
Someday I’ll seek happiness, 
but I’m lost in the void of sadness.  
 
I’m screaming inside, 
feeling the need to hide. 
I’m scared of feeling— 
no time for healing.      
 

Grandee DeGuzman 
Collegiate Institute for Math and Science

 
PIECE OF YOUNG HEART 
 
I can imagine my whole dream 
Fading away 
A million nightmares 
My mind is crazy 
As a lion outside it’s cage 
The hearts of every person is full of happiness 
Except mine 
My family has torn me apart 
Unloved 
 
I continue my journey without rush 
In front of me, the only flower I want 
In my garden 
That girl I want in my heart 
So many wanted me doomed 
But I climbed 
There’re many opportunities in heaven 
 
My journey can have a happy ending 
But with an empty heart 
For life 
I will continue 
Not caring for other’s people heart 
This is when my journey begins. 
 
Her sadness is like I’m shower in her tears 

But I’m hers 
To dry her million fears 
Her suffering 
 
But my journey can’t continue 
Without 
That flower I really want 
Even if I have all 
I’m still empty 
Without her in my heart 
 

Kevin David Rivera Diaz 
CAPA Centro Sor Isolina Ferré Caimito

 
WHO AM I  
 
Subconscious dark as the night sky 
But has light on the side 
What is my purpose 
When too young, wise as a serpent 
When society is lost could I have been chosen  
Spirit truly awoken, soul golden  
Since I see through the lies I'm doctrine 
I'm forever going to shine I let my soul keep talking  
No more mind tricks Too mentally equipped  
Too strong on my path 
Making sure my steps last 
Third eye sharp like broken glass  
Society faith, where is your mask  
With more being said I'm not scared of death  
I am too blessed  
When I have breath 
 

Abdoulaye Gassama 
James Baldwin High School

​

TRAIN  
 

The train is silent. 
Only the rocking and screech of metal on metal could be heard.  

Everyone to themselves yet somehow together. 
One day everyone will be lost, forgotten, gone. 
But for now, they will go places. 
Leave. Be. 
Unknowingly connected through motion and silence. 
This train car is not special, it will go where many others go,  
where many others go.  
 

Dylan Germain 
High School for Math, Science and Engineering

 
6:13 A.M. 
 
I wrote this with you 
on your roof as we watched the 
crack of daylight blend into the stratosphere 
the yolk of sunlight rises upon the city 
horizon line 
spilling into the sky 
absorbed by the clouds. 
 
The messy sunrise turned us gold 
igniting fire in our hearts 
illuminating us from within 
and I wonder 
what messy angel created such a 
perfect sky.  
 

Jordanne Greenridge 
Edward R. Murrow High School

 
SLOW UP 
 
Upon the surface of tides lie the hysterectomies of generational traumas and curses 
The epitome of a burning rage assembled by the rough hands of patriarchy 
Where little girls whisper to fathers molded from the flames of hell 
Where little girls cry upon the shoulders of mothers birthed from the ashes of

stagnant insecurities

In this world, upon the glittering realities of mischief lies the wrongdoings of

society

With feathery breaths of deceit and flutters of insecurities, little girls of victimhood

are born

History written from the tips of the everlasting male gaze, little girls run rampant in

streets of sexism

They run with the wind; yet the wind delivers them to the gods of mistrust 
A chorus overseen by the orchestrator of societal conducts and expectations 
Little girls bathe in this sea 
Little girls grow in this sea 
Little girls repeat a cycle embedded within them by the gracious hand of society 
 

Queentera Gyamerah 
A. Philip Randolph High School

 
MIXED 
 
I am soy sauce mixed with salt and cumin. 
People always ask, “What are you?” 
I say, “I’m mixed.” 
I am like a heterogeneous mix of sugar and sand.  
Born to a Lebanese-German father and a Filipina mother, I hated my existence. 
I hated being different in family gatherings. 
I hated who I was. 
I loathed the idea of interracial marriages as I resented my being. 
People have always told me I wasn’t enough. 
That I didn’t look like where I was supposedly from. 
They always made sure to highlight my differences, which were the source of my 
              insecurities  
And they loved to tell me who I was. 
But, in the kindest way possible, you are not me.  
Thus, you cannot tell me who I am. 
 
Now, I idolize those who are like me.  
Those who don’t fit in anywhere. 
Who don’t feel welcomed. 
Who don’t feel whole. 
Who feel like a diluted version of their ethnicities. 
And it brings me comfort. 
Regardless of the mix, there is a bond between those like me. 
There’s a mutual understanding.  
And that’s beautiful.  
 

Frances Hamed 
Central Park East High School

​

​

LIVING IN AMERICA  
 
I woke up, I saw, I left 
I had everything, I lost everything 
I had cash and now have none 
Spent on pizza and the food of junk material  
I remember a city of 8 million 
I forgot my language 
I think I once was a child 
And everything was big 
Now I am lost in conjunction 
I have failed to see the light  
 

Danny Hewitt 
James Baldwin High School

 
FAUX 
 
Wooden barrels of drunken emotions 
crush my toes. 
Churning seas 
cleanse my mind. 
 
Solace  
where it’s not expected. 
Help 
from those you’ve forgotten. 
 
Snake venom in the handshakes 
of those you call your own. 
The warm, inviting sun burns your flesh. 
You lie in a bed of poison ivy. 
The hood of your jacket is lined with porcupine quills. 
Home isn’t safe. 
 
Put your shoes on, but don’t make a sound. 
Get away, but don’t ask for help. 
They’ll just send you back.  
 
The black abyss 

is your friend. 
You can’t trust it. 
There are things hidden in the night. 
But be brave, little one. 
Put on your front. 
You’re just interacting with a friend 
after all.  
 

Katherine Hlaing 
Stuyvesant High School

 
STATION 
 
A station in the crisp, clean winter 
but the winter that was spring a day before 
breath rises like smoke, heat gone 
words die away in the quiet 
 
The smell of the cold, soon to be ignored 
none of autumn—no in-between, 
no dusk 
dryness in a hollow sphere 
 
The ink trying to capture the serenity 
of the station long gone, the 
emotions fading but the words, pouring 
 

Felician Jennings-Brown 
Bronx High School of Science

 
EUPHORIA 
 
You can hear euphoris, they said. 
The vibrations proceeding after every exhalation 
from yoru cat, nestled close to your head 
for warmth and comfort.  
The old Asian man located on the 96 St. train 
station who wore a pale red shirt and 
intricately struck the stringes on his chestnut violin 
that glistened under the soft sun. 
The trills of the wind on a chilly night, 

blowing the crippling brown leaves from 
the London plane trees, the crunchy, 
satisfying sound from the leaves as 
they depart from the branches. 
The music of the world. 
Violet waves crashing on boulders, 
the green bellied common starlings flying 
overhead and croaking the tunes of the morning, 
to alert people that the sun has risen. 
The thuds of a 90lb Newfoundland dog hitting 
almost every wall in the house because it is 
too happy and clumsy to realize its boundaries. 
The cheers from a five-year old, when her 
brother’s hand was raised after the wrestling match.  
The sound of a white-furred bunny gorging on 
cold flushed red strawberries, and the sound 
of slurping cold, sweet noodles.  
 

Alia Khan 
Edward R. Murrow High School
 

CRY 
 
Why did you forgive me? 
You know what I did against you 
against those you love 
who you saw as the stars at night 
following all the time 
as if you aren’t blind 
 
Why did you forgive me? 
Like you are letting a naïve child go 
telling him that it’s only a little accident 
something insignificant  
that he can still be saved 
once returned to the old good path 
 
Why did you forgive me? 
Like are a philanthropist 
having so much loe and hope for this world 
so eager to fetch anyone from the filthy street 
and place him in a warm cozy home 

with honey water right on the table 
 
Why did you forgive me? 
You didn’t just lock me in a box 
and forget all of my craziness and insanity 
so you can return to your perfect life 
embrace everyone with a natural smile 
checking to see if they are fine 
 
Come back, come back to me 
I will let you forgive me 
I will let you forget me 
my face, my actions, my strangeness 
but come back 
so I can ruin you one more time 
then you will finally undestant my pain 
of being destroyed again and again 
falling to pieces like a glass jar 
then picking up the pieces by myself 
with blood still leaking from my fingertips 
and try to fix myself 
for whatever is actually wrong inside of me 
if you run away like a sneaky thief 
I can’t catch your tail right now 
but I will haunt you down 
like a hunter 
with your smell imprinted in my mind. 
 

Lin Jing Liu 
Brooklyn Technical High School
 

LIFE DOESN’T CRUMBLE US 
 
We wake up go to work or school 
Hoping we can make it home safely  
then when we do go home  
It’s a whole new day  
Hoping for miracles to happen 
Hoping that everyday could be a ray of sunshine 
Hoping that life doesn’t crumble us 
Causing us to lose sight on how life really is amazing 
But we let our pain blind us from realizing that 

Just like life, it’s temporary 
Unless we let it control us 
 
Our pain at the moment seems like there’s no way out 
Seems like we can’t take ourselves out of that hole 
But why do we never stop trying? 
Why do we give up so easily? 
Why do we allow our own negativity into our lives  
If we know we end up hurting ourselves even more? 
Why do we allow our emotions to tame us  
if we know nothing good comes out of pain? 
 

Lourdes Lluisupa 
Bronx Academy of Letters

 
TIRED  
 
It pops up when you least expect it 
The cost will turn, but not due to respite  
You rest and rest and it forever persists  
Like a gosh darn curse that you cannot lift  
The solution isn't sleep or naps or rest 
It's not a lack of trying or doing your best 
It's just when the world’s so loud and full of misfortune  
Sometimes your own world can be a bit distorted  
There's not a sight or sound meant to really cure  
The loss of the will to find your way, to be sure 
So if you have interest, it won't lead you astray 
But you must open your eyes for another new day  
 

Egypt Lopez 
James Baldwin High School

 
ALL OF THE ABOVE 
 
It is ambiguous. 
It has no definite meaning, so 
it’s funny how this word has such a big influence. 
Sure, it is “an intense feeling of deep affection,” 
but is that definition really useful? 
It isn’t just liking someone very strongly, 

or thinking of them very fondly. 
It is a mess, 
many time difficult to express 
and so hard to suppress. 
It makes you mad 
and sometimes a little bit sad, 
and some of it can even be bad. 
It is an ordeal 
and can be your Achilles’ Heel, 
so why is it such a big deal? 
Why does it have so much appeal? 
Because it isn’t black and white, 
it isn’t wrong or right. 
You feel it for everyone a different way 
and even end up feeling it for people you wouldn’t have felt it for yesterday.  
It is unpredictable 
and that’s what makes it so inexplicable 
and so irresistible. 
It will warm you up on the inside, but it will also tear you apart 
and have you crying in the dark, 
and make you feel like your world is falling apart. 
But it will also heal you 
and put you back together like glue. 
And why does it do this? 
I don’t have a clue. 
But I do know that it has no format 
and it is something you cannot force, but something you arrive at.  
So, yes, it is strange. 
Experiencing it will make you change. 
It is something abstract, 
something that isn’t exact, 
because it doesn’t have a contract. 
It is what we all struggle to perceive, 
but it’s something we all want to give and receive. 
It is everything I mentions, but it is also so much more, 
this simple word that is such a complicated feeling, 
which is why it doesn’t have a true meaning. 
A word that for me means all of the above, 
but for you might mean something completely different, 
this tricky word called love.  
 

Alexa Marte 
Central Park East High School

​

​

OR WAS IT LIKE THIS?  
 
An extraterrestrial being  
A Milky Way in the sky  
An alien in the corner  
Observing a different reality  
A female Phoenix in a summer sky  
My imagination can stretch far 
But this is more than I can imagine  
Estranged vibe of different existence  
Different beings in the world  
That is in the process of creation  
 

Zeeshan Noor 
James Baldwin High School

 
BLUEBERRY 
 
Spun around every thought’s barrier, there’s nowhere else to go; 
 
Iridescent crystal sleeping through whatever’s next, you won’t wait. 
 
Pack a fresh blue berry,  
an old gold watch, 
and pretend as though you’re on the moon. 
 
Gaze at the warm sun, 
lonely as the distance sets you back. 
 
Тонем в белых голосах;  
живём под белыми звездами 
 
They won’t see you now; let the plastic flow. 
The molten green waxed against the thread of your white jeans, you forgot me once 
again. 
 
I’ll love you from earth’s base, blood gushing out my tears; 
sing as you must, I won't set you out. 
 
Увижу, не увидимся - 
Я затабою не успею;  

​

In such a pretty house, count from three to four. 
Two seconds being all we, you, need, 
Lose yourself, apart from me. 
 
боимся смерти, но только не для нас -  
Для тебя я всё смогу, даже сладко умирать -  
 
Где же мне себя найти,  
когда я медленно пишу а своих последних слов. 
 

Marta O’Harlem 
High School of Fashion Industries

 
WONDERLAND... AGAIN?  
 
Leave this world behind, my dear 
New adventures have awaited 
Keep going with silver spoons 
Close the eyes to happy lives 
In wings lives our childhood past 
Chocolate hearts spilled cherry cheese 
Lots of bad hatters 
Queens of true hearts 
Bunnies allowed of your presence 
Neverland was not lived 
Lost boys had no Wendy darling 
Second star to the right 
Straight till morning 
No Captain Hook 
Empty pixie dust 
He has been waiting 
Forever shall you be 
Hello again 
Dear Alice 
Welcome back 
In Wonderland 
I will be your guide  
 

Sonia Oquendo 
James Baldwin High School

​

​

HOW TO LIVE & DIE 
 
show us how to live & die 
how street lights catch raindrops 
holding them in their grasp 
& even for a moment can be 
something, anyone, it’s up to you 
show us how to fade to black 
how candles flicker in the wind 
everchanging directions to chase 
sweat wax on my fingertips 
the flames vanish to nothing 
show us how to keep living 
how to press on in a storm 
knowing that beyond our boats 
there’s something, anyone, it’s up to you 
the magical promise to 
live & die.  
 

Kaylee Pontone 
Edward R. Murrow High School

 
THE THIEF OF GOODNESS 
 
Anger  
Rage 
Fury 
Whatever you want to call that aggravation  
It’s the devil on your shoulder  
You chose to listen to  
Instead of your angel  
That red like fire 
That devil  
You chose to listen to the whispers in your ear  
Telling you to burst 
Dragging  those horrendous ideas to mind  
 
But is it your fault? 
Should you have done better? 
In your heart,  
You knew it was wrong  

To follow this thief of goodness  
Into the cave of darkness 
Where you hide your  worst insecurities   
It’s the devil on your shoulder  
You chose to listen to  
Instead of your angel  
 

Giomary Rodriguez  
Bronx Academy of letters

 
UNTITLED 
 
I believe that my fears will take over 
they’ll drag me down 
make me sorry 
wishing I’d never been born 
 
I’m unsure why 
believing my fears taking over 
making me empty 
sorry 
can’t be contained 
 
I want to be free 
not trappd in this horrid life 
not crying over nothing 
I want to be happy 
but it won’t happen 
 
I regret doing what I’ve done 
wanting to take back what I’ve become 
I’m going to be dragged down 
I regret making others unhappy 
 
Not knowing where to turn 
surrounded by disappointment 
trying to find the hope 
and wanting to be a better person 
I believe the world is cruel 
but I should try my best to make it 
 
I’ll admit that I’ve bled 

don’t think about it 
there are things I’ve said 
don’t take it to be your acknowledgment 
I’ve bee trying to think ahead 
don’t take me for an accomplishment 
but I haven’t really been around 
and it shouldn’t be to your astonishment 
 
I want to find out who I am 
not live in another’s shadow 
wanna find out if I’ll be calm 
not sleeping on my pillow 
I don’t want to harm 
but that’s another pill to swallow 
really don’t want to overwhelm 
just wanna show you the preview 
 
Don’t have to rhyme to prove my point 
can do it all day 
it’s no coincidence 
I can be the loneliest introvert 
and the loudest extrovert 
I know I contradict 
no blame on antidepressants 
I ain’t no big grammatist 
could find myself in a predicament 
and I’ll find a way out of it 
unlike some who are found insignificant 
want to show how easy it is to rhyme 
though it’s only my first time 
I wanted to know myself 
in front of others’ eyes 
although I’ll overcommit 
it isn’t an issue I’ll necessarily work with 
 

Arly Roman 
Collegiate Institute for Math & Science

​

​

REALIZE 
 
There is nothing wrong with the world 
Our planet 
The “wrong” exists within us 
The ones responsible for catastrophes 
That deteriorate whatever is in its way 
Especially ourselves 
 
An endless cycle to the eyes of many 
Where conflict is resolved with conflict 
And anger 
With anger 
Not realizing this can be freed from 
 
A breathtaking gorgeous planet we live on 
Not far and neither close from our star 
Equilibrium maintaining a balance 
But we disorient this 
As a too common lifestyle 
 
This vibe 
This energy 
This frequency 
We disorient this through ignorance and emotions 
Hurting each other and our home 
Mostly, in order to prove  
who is Stronger  
Or 
Better 
Or  
Worthy  
Only to desensitize ourselves  
 
This is an endless loop of chaos  
That will go on 
And on 
And on 
And on 
Until 
An endangering scenario presents itself 
Only then will we get it together 
And do something about it 

But why wait until then? 
Why not now? 
 

Marc Saint Hilaire 
Bronx Academy of Letters

 
MY VERY OWN ROCKET MAN 
 
You packed your bags last night  
To take off like Elton John described  
Tucked me into bed so tight  
Almost to hold me there until the next time you arrived 
 
You fly high above me out of site 
But I’m so used to it by now 
Weather home or in flight  
My kindled eyes look up to you always, somehow   
 
You unconditionally have my back 
Yet you lead carefully in front 
It pains me so to see you pack 
But I’d never voice to you what I really want 
 
You will return with no delay   
Only going off for a little while  
Inside I beg for you to stay  
Outside I ship off my rocket man with a smile 
 

Daniela Salsberg 
High School for Math, Science and Engineering

 
IN SUMMER I DREAM ABOUT LIMBS 
 
Because everything bloats and expands 
in the dream there is the 10,000 hand Buddha 
that stopped me one in a museum / 
Its hands fanning, upright, palm-out 
and grabbing me / The body loves to talk  
about the body even when it learns not to / 
Likes to imagine itself taking on new, at least 

partially despicable forms / After the museum 
I wish to petal into limbs: duplicating and fractaling 
becoming more of myself / If I had a thousand arms 
I would clap and the unison would break / hearts 
and other things / In the statue’s presence 
twisting my body into an X and then into light, 
dreaming to be museumed, looked at, made to last.  
 

Claire Shang 
Hunter College High School

 
A LOVE LETTER TO PAPER 
 
Dearest, 
I have confided in you, 
I have relied on you, 
I have grown with you, 
 
And— 
When I  have grown apart from you, I think— 
What would I do without you? 
What would humanity be without this? 
We’d be the blank pages, 
Mindlessly, lifelessly, carelessly, 
Existing in nonexistent forms  
of empty syllables and empty souls. 
Many people use you, trap you, break you, for their heartless use and cruel 
amusement. 
 
But I,  
I live because of you,  
I am entranced by you, 
I am in awe of you. 
 
You and I are creatures of nature designed to embody our Truths 
To show the world we are more than what they see, 
They see— 
A blank paper and become resentful and intimidated 
They see— 
A  Mexican woman and become resentful and intimidated. 
You and I are creatures of nature desiring to embody Compassion, 
You and I make magic when we connect  

​

Pen to Paper, Paper to Pen. 
 
I am forever in your debt, 
Because of You, I am me. 
you Free me, 
Embrace me. 
We are We. 
 
Love,  
 

Vanessa Nicole Silva-Burgos  
High School of Fashion Industries

 
THE STREETS ARE MY TRAINING GROUND 
 
The streets ain’t fun to me 
To all the dead homies 
Know you can agree 
On that note 
Rest in peace 
 
The streets are a place that taught 
A lot of kids 
How to pack heat 
Under their sheets 
And how to create their 
Very own rap sheet 
 
Well the streets taught me 
What I don’t want to be 
Don’t get me wrong 
I had a fun run 
Under the sun 
Posted on the block or 
Playing ball on the blacktop 
But 
That’s not me 
I gotta do something with my life 
In my last days 
Wanna die with 
Kids and a wife 

​

These streets will bring you pain 
That cuts deep like a knife 
The streets whispered to me 
That I gotta get a life 
 
So yes the streets are my training ground 
Cuz they showe me how to flip a pound 
And get around 
But 
That’s how they taught me that I wanna be 
Royalty of my town 
 

Jeremy Soto 
Collegiate Institure for Math & Science

 
THE BOTFLY 
 
She was struggling in solitude and I wanted to be wanted, 
thus in that aspect we’d been destined by the stars. 
 
I say—Tell me of the time you dreamt of me, and she does.  
I cry—Tell me of the time where we laid together beneath the fruit, tempting, ripe, 
 
and she croons to me in lamb-soft sonnets. 
 
She strokes wisps of hair from my face, and whispers a kiss, there, branding me. 
How good she is to me, the sweetness, the caution of her touch. 
 
Oh to have the chasteness of such a lover! Oh, to be desired. 
To gorge on such gentle affection, given so easily. 
 
She was bursting with it, and that regard I understand I must have drained her; 
in my periphery, a wilted grey skin. 
 
And to the gods I say—Haven’t I been humbled enough? Scraped and bruised, 
 
for I am but a tender plum, and like all little things, wish to be loved. 
 
And they chant—Never. It would have never been enough, for you.  
 

Tasnim Sumaita 
High School for Math, Science & Engineering at CCNY

​

​

​