"Literacy--active literacy: love of reading, inventiveness with language, delight in expressiveness--is a fundamental sign of health in a person, an educational system, a culture. California Poets in the Schools has been nourishing that kind of literacy for almost a generation now; its work is invaluable." Robert Hass, former U.S. Poet Laureate

"I honor and admire the Poets in the Schools program for the fact that it teaches an alternative view of language - the understanding that language is hugely flexible and can be a vehicle of emotion and imagination. Even as we teach precise and socially acceptable ways of speaking and writing, we must remember that the heart also has things to say." Gary Snyder

A Picture in Class

Flowers of orange, yellow and purple
Mountains that rise behind the mass of flowers.
Nature around me, I want to see again.
A pasture untouched, spring of pure hush.
Silence of vast beauty
as I stare around this crowded little room.
The nature is a picture on the white board.
It’s not real, but a visual deal.
It makes me sad to know I’m locked up,
not in that field.
When summer comes I will be free.
Then I can run through this lovely poppy field.

CRAIG BAILEY
12th Grade
DeForest Hamilton School
Patsy Truxaw, Classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshulam, Poet-teacher

Oh My, What’s That?! The Fair!
Oh my, I smell cotton candy, popcorn, and lollipops.
Oh, my what’s that? Whee, crash, whoosh, pop!
It’s pow summertime! I yell!
I see horses clickity clop! Oh my, boom!
I’m at the splash, bang FAIR!!
What a ride!
Oh my, oh my, what’s that? What’s that?
It’s summer time! That’s where I belong! WHEEEEE!

JENSEN MARES
5th grade
Matanzas School
Rene Francisco, classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshulam, poet-teacher



Fly Away

Why do I wake up
every morning?
When I can just sleep
deep into my dreams?
Should I have something
to look forward to?
When I open my eyes
I face the reality that
I’m trapped physically
and mentally,
with my mind
playing games.
I pray, pray
for wings so
I can fly away.
If God or the angel
of death
were my medication and only solution,
I’d rip my heart out
to prove to them what
my pain is about.
But maybe dreaming, I will be flying
or finally feeling some peace
if only while sleeping.

ALFONSO ARIAS
12th Grade
DeForest Hamilton School
Patsy Truxaw, Classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshulam, Poet-teacher



Mexico

I hear you, Mexico.
You want me back home
where I was born
under the sun and stars

Tell me why my hometown cries
Has it drowned under crystal water?
Has it burned in fire from flames?
Tell me why my hometown cries.

You call me an angel.
I call you a star.
You are my faith.
I am your history.

When you think of me
I am a new person.
When I think of you
I think of the same place.

When I hear your name
I hear a loud cry.
I hear people walking
only when I hear your name.
Mexico Mexico Mexico

ITZEL BECERRIL
5th Grade
Monroe School
Ledlye Allen, classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshulam, poet-teacher



Maple Tree, I See You Free
I go copying a red oak leaf
of cherry red and black pepper sprinkles
all over you, with green emerald dots.
It’s time of autumn with your color of sunrise
shining, your cherry red and black pepper sprinkles.
I feel you whooshing in the air, back and forth.
You smell like apple cinnamon barley baked.
I go erasing your amber lines
with midday orange of a sun going down.
I take out your beautifulest yellow blond
spread all over.
I look out to see you spin on the ground
like a ballerina
I wish you would talk to me, you who make
the air that I breathe and the freshness
of the yellow ball that you call sun.

YISELL DOMINGUEZ
Monroe School
5th Grade
Gina Godfrey, classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshulam, poet-teacher

Poetry!

The world for me is an ice skating rink.
The ice skating rink is a golden ice rink.
The rink is golden gold. I’m standing
on the ice with my gold ice skating shoes
and with my golden dress.
My hair’s color is golden brown and
my eyes are golden brown and
my bracelets are diamond gold and
the world for me is a golden gold ice rink
and the walls are diamonds.
PALOMA CRISTAL DIAZ
6th Grade
Monroe School
Pam Mentsch, classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshulam, poet-teacher

 

An Ode to the Sapphire Heart

Sapphire, your shimmering colors are like a tornado
that hypnotizes me into a deep and dark trance.
Your gold streak is like sunlight
forcing itself to shine through the blinds.
You smell of the morning dew
in my enchanted and fresh rose garden.
Sapphire, your smoothness is as soft
as a thick blue blanket, warming even the coldest hobo.
If I could make a wish on you, it would be
to make you my heart and beat as fast as a cheetah.
Sapphire heart, you’re my wish being granted.
You give me the power to believe.

LESLIE DE LA TORRE
4th grade
Matanzas School
Rene Francisco, classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshulam, poet-teacher

 

Drums of Fury

Oh, drums of fury, you make the kaboom stronger.
You make the rhythm go beep.
You make the fury go vengeance.
Anyone can hear you.
Drums you make the voice in my hand.
Bam boom kaboom.
You are the drums of fury.

MIGUEL VALADEZ LICEA
5th grade
Matanzas School
Rene Francisco, classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshulam, poet-teacher

Grasping Trees - Duet

Growing souls of thick brown
and luscious green.
The leaves flowing in the wind like an ocean,
and the trunk looking like elephant feet.
Their roots strongly grafted to the ground,
like the bones to a body,
with the body of the river, with a little
scent just like pine.
And flowers of a golden line,
the forest’s shine, with beautiful
bright colors like light blues, yellows, greens and brown.
Their fragrant colors (, make the smells).
The smelly smell of pine and bells;
it’s beauty that the forest sells.

CHRIS BONES, ANTHONY GIAMPAOLI
6th grade
Matanzas School
Marsha Hampsire, classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshulam, poet-teacher



The Drum

You are the heart of all instruments
while you go boom! boom! boom!
The guitar strums with you as you beat
up my heart. You get me.
My soul and mind are making my feet dance
to the beat.
You make my hands go crazy!
As you are the drum.

JENNIFER LANGER
4th grade
Matanzas School
Lisa Christopherson, classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshulam, poet-teacher

Soccer Drums

Kick, kick, kick
Group cheering
net circling goal
Goal and more goals
Team cheering Soccer Soccer
high and low kicks short kicks
Cheering fans
Cheering fans
Swoop swap with your teammate
all the way to championships.

ERIC DUENAS
4th grade
Matanzas School
Lisa Christopherson, classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshulam, poet-teacher



Sandpiper’s View – Duet

Snow white foam crashing into sandstone,
deep indigo ocean flowing with the wind.
The pine trees covered in a blanket of white.
As a fog comes toward, birds begin to flee.
An island of golden rock stands majestically
for all to see, braving the great blue.
I hear the wind whispering my name.
The water slips over my feet.
A tree stands alone, twisted and old.
Sprigs of emerald begin to grow.
A rocky shore covers the aquamarine ocean.
Tidal waves crashing onto the silky sand.
A patchy shade shadows the dunes,
the sapphire blue horizon meets with
an endless blue.

REBECCA KRUGER, MARIA CASCIANI
6th grade
Matanzas School
Kelly Lister, classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshulam, poet-teacher

I Want to Say Your Name– Duet

BH: I want to say your name.
BA: A star always twinkles in your eye.
BH: Your name has the scent of hot chocolate in the early morning.
BA: A ruby for your heart that sparkles in the night.
BH: The brightness of intelligence flows in your dark brown eyes.
BA: I want to say your name.
BH: Your name means the calmness of the rain forest.
BA: When I say your golden name, my bad days go away.
BH: The color of emerald green twinkles in your personality.
BA: I want to say your name, Brandy. When I hear it, wild flowers jump in my mind.
BH. I want say your name, Bella. When I do I see royal blue in your personality.
BA: In the breeze, your wavy blonde hair flows.
BH: The emerald green represents the calmness and relaxation in your name.
BOTH: I want to say the kindness and caring in your name.

BELLA ABREU, BRANDY HUMPHREY
5th grade
Matanzas School
Lindsey Wyckoff, classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshulam, poet-teacher

The Taste of Warmness

Here’s to you, cookie.
I want to celebrate by filling my mouth with warmness,
with your name, by eating the warmness of you.
You are always warm
– my body in the world of the day
– to be the day of a celebration day.
I want to warm my day of life in my heart
to a day of warmness of life, to the love of all day.
You are what I say,
you warm my heart with joy
to bring the light of day to warm a heart of love
to bring day of joy and love to the world
to all the love
to bring the warm taste of you, cookie.
You, cookie, you bring the joy of chocolate,
of melt, to the taste of happiness,
you bring the joy of love.

ALEXIS G. MIRANDA
3rd grade
Prestwood School
Gary Griffith, classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshulam, poet-teacher

Sunset

Small orange sun
setting in the ocean
in my soul
like your stream
passing through the sand
gleaming through the clouds
shining through the water
that’s shivering
like the sun on the icy ocean.

JACOB MCDONALD
5th grade
Prestwood School
Susan Foshay, classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshulam, poet-teacher



Zoomed Metaphored

Gaze into the eyes;
for how did those come to be?
Travel to an… art gallery
while the “come to me cat”
lurks nearby.
A collage background while the
papier mache body spat with colors
the sky lady paints with every night.
Cashmere patched eyes follow your every move.
My future lies in you. Guard me well.
Dyed in the light.
Complexed.
Diamond eyes.
Y-O-U

HALEY REESE PENN
4th grade
Prestwood School
Emily Grzyb, classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshulam, poet-teacher

The Mighty

The big gazing redwood,
so tall and mighty,
sees so much more than I.

Branches of the willow tree
like tears. No one notices him,
except for the sky that is passing by.

TRAVIS CLAEYS,
5th grade
Prestwood School
Ann Estes, classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshulam, poet-teacher



Trickling Creek

Follow me across
a bridge, underneath,
a trickling creek,
rolling over pebbles and
stones rushing through
any obstacle,
nothing can stop it
going far, fast!
dappled sunlight created
by the oaks and
maples, providing
an umbrella overhead
toes dangling in the frigid
liquid, feet quickly
transform into cubes of ice
the language of silence,
whispering secrets in your ear
the rocky pebbles below
hide tiny villages
of small fish
rough surface of bark,
a trunk of a fallen tree
blocking the path,
tranquil birds
calling clear love songs,
hoping to get
love songs back.

MADELINE LIBBEY
5th grade
Prestwood School
Susan Foshay, classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshulam, poet-teacher



Untitled

My secret place is a tree house!
My friend and I found it
and we had fun cause we cooked inside!
Scary stories is the best part!
Where it was was by the creek
and at night it was when we said scary stories in our house!
We celebrated in summer!
We went to our house
and got water guns
and put water in the guns
and went to the creek and got wet!
On Christmas we decorated the tree house!
In fall we saw the leaves turn different colors
and we collected the leaves to put on the tree house
but the worst part is some people destroyed it.
It was so sad.

LUIS ANTONIO GARCIA CARMONA
3rd grade
Prestwood School
Gwen Watson, classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshulam, poet-teacher

Celebrate Christmas

Let us gather in Mexico.
Celebrating navidad en el rancho grande.
When el sol goes down, we are going to eat
tamales that taste like pozole.
At night, bailamos rap con emoción.
Mi mama makes churros with my cousin
Carmen y mi tía Lety, y mi abuela Margarita.
They also make tacos with frijoles and meat.
Then mi papa y mi mama dance Latin.
At midnight people throw fire works y
todos run en todas partes.
En la morning, the vendors venden
balloons de plastic, otros venden enchiladas y elotes.
Let us remember those fiestas where we had lots of emoción.
ENRIQUE ALBOR
4th Grade
Roseland School
Jennifer Perkins, classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshulam, poet-teacher



Famous Dishes

Let us gather in the country of Mexico.
Let’s bring my mom’s best sopa de elote
and my grandma’s famous churros
that taste like cinnamon with sugar.
Let us remember my mom’s pozole and flan.
They are like a piece of God’s famous dish.
Let us get lost in the taste of honey in the flan; it gets you dreaming and knocks you out
like a famous boxer, Oscar de la Oja.
He will knock you out, but you will be happy because of the flavor of honey.
Let us gather en la paz de México.

DAVID CABRERA
6th grade
Monroe School
Nikki Winovich, classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshulam, poet-teacher

The Speaking Cove – Duet

Dear Friends,
I am now in a wonderful place,
a place of pure peace and harmony.
A forest of mystics, hiding as trees.
The waterfall of destiny, continuing forever.
Its looks are of something soft and light.
But are really as powerful as seven rhinos.
The water, an everlasting abyss,
the cave mouth, a resting place for travelers.
Here I stand, next to my mighty ruler.
He is sometimes aquamarine, midnight, or periwinkle, never the same, never different.
The trees speak the language of the dead;
the rocks speak of a distant land full of treasure.
Colors, colors, colors everywhere.
Mostly green, brown, grey, white,
but I know others are hiding.

HAILEY WINDSOR
NOAH UNZELMAN
5TH Grade
Apple Blossom School
Tamara Ice, classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshulam, poet-teacher



Untitled

I stepped into the clover-filled grass
walking
down a sandy path
and came to the water’s edge
stepped in the water
and felt a perfect feeling.
The bottom of the river
like walking on air.
I looked into the crystal clear water
and saw hundreds of fish.
I looked at the sky and saw
the morning glory.
Just then a hawk dropped
down into the water and
grabbed a fish
and flew off.

BRANDON RUIZ
5th grade
Dede Goddard, classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshualm, poet-teacher
Prestwood School, Sonoma, CA

Environment Colors

Quiet misty morning
with the yellow flowers singing,
like blue sky and yellow flower
mixing all together
to form grass green

TSHERING SHERPA
5th grade
Dede Goddard, classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshualm, poet-teacher
Prestwood School, Sonoma, CA

Peregrine

Peregrine falcon, flying in the night, perching in a nest,
guarding a patch of eggs.
Your eyes, glinting like gold in the moonlight,
look straight at me, the terrible beauty,
a deadly killer, a wonderful gemstone.
A sapphire carving being shattered on a marble floor,
alabaster faces, watching, gaping, dumbstruck
by the wealth being destroyed.
A meteor, coming down to earth, a dangerous artifact,
an icy storm.
Bittersweet, venomous, how can you manage to survive,
a needle in a haystack, minty molasses.
A star in the sky, a stick of dynamite a fleck of iron,
peregrine.

RYAN O’TOOLE
3rd grade
Oak Grove School
Tom Genolio, classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshualm, poet-teacher

Polar Bear !!!!!

I see a polar bear with shy eyes,
big fear of the moonlight,
coming down.
Its wings carry me up.
Its milky white skin is soft as a new-born kitten.
I ask where it was made, and out of what,
and it said a place of white snow
with black marbles.
It’s creamy with feet stomping
with the happiness of night.
Its wings take me to its future with white snow,
happy animals, big juicy food for them
and better homes.

JULIA RAMOS
3rd grade
Oak Grove School
Jon Devlin, classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshualm, poet-teacher

If I Could Talk to a Poem

If I could say something to a poem, I would say,
“Why do some good things happen and other things happen bad?
And sometimes it is shouting so that
I want it to be whispering, and the poem says,
“That’s how it goes.” And I say,
“Why does it have to be like that?”
It is so loud that it is like a storm.

FABIOLA JIMENEZ
4th Grade
Roseland School
Dimitri Gortinsky, classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshulam, poet-teacher

The Jungle of the Boy and Tiger
Come to me, tiger, with your speed.
Come to me, tiger, with your eyes that look like fire.
Come to me, tiger, with your white smooth fur.
Come to me, tiger, with your smooth back and so we can run.
Come to me, tiger, so we can ride the jungle.
I am king; you are the dark night.
You are made of everything of the world.
Who is your father and mother?
Who is the man that hunts you
but he never does get you.
Come to me with your claws sharp
as a blade that can chop off a tree with one swing.
Your magic is so special.

JOSEPH SALINAS
4th Grade
Roseland School
Dimitri Gortinsky, classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshulam, poet-teacher

The Ocean Song - Duet

The ocean waves crash into the tall, salty rocks.
The ocean rolls up to the shore quietly
and slowly as if it was trying to whisper me to sleep
woosh, wash, woosh, wash, it says.
The sun falls onto the bluish, green water
as it makes a reflection on it.
Bright rose, yellow, and orange glisten
on the dark blue water under the mango sky.
The seagulls glide across the mango and
over the salty indigo ocean which sings out
into the great sky and into the universe.

ASHLEY VANdeWEG
ALYSSA BERTRAM
5TH Grade
Apple Blossom School
Jeanne Guerinoni, classroom teacher
Phyllis Meshulam, poet-teacher

back to Youth Poetry