hArtworks
Spring 2003 • $1

Special Issue: Reflections On The Holocaust

The Charles Hart Middle School Literary Magazine

M

any educators who teachabout the Holocaust
believe that its study
assists students in developing
understanding of the ramificationsof prejudice, racism, and stereotyping in any society. It helps students
develop and awareness of the valueof pluralism, and encourages
tolerance of diversity in a pluralistic society. A study of the Holocaust
helps students think about the use
and abuse of power, and the roleand responsibilities of individuals,organizations, and nations whenconfronted with civil rights violations and/or policies of genocide.
Reginald Stewart
And the Holocaust provides acontext for exploring the dangers
of remaining silent, apathetic, and indifferent in the face of others’ oppression.
Most students demonstrate a high level of interest in studying the Holocaust
precisely because the subject raises questions of fairness, justice, individual
identity, peer pressure, conformity, indifference, and obedience—issues thatyoung people confront in their daily lives.
In January 2003, Charles Hart Middle School students participating in the D.C.
Creative Writing Workshop visited the United States Holocaust Memorial Museumas part of the museum’s partnership with Washington, D.C. public schools—
Bringing the Lessons Home: Holocaust Education for the Community. Following theirvisits, a Holocaust survivor met with the students and shared her personal history.
The writings in the magazine reflect the thoughts and feelings of these young
authors in response to their experiences learning about the Holocaust.
David Klevan, Program Coordinator
Community Partnerships, Education
United States Holocaust Memorial Museum

2
Front cover: l-r Reginald Williams, Marcus Jackson, DeAngelo Thomas, Jawara Johnson

Introduction
Welcome to—hArtworks, the nation’s only inner-city public middle school literary magazine, written andedited by the students of Charles Hart Middle School. hArtworks is published through a collaborative
effort between the school and the D.C. Creative Writing Workshop, and independent non-profit working
to create a literary renaissance in Southeast Washington. Now in its third year, hArtworks gives our young
writers the opportunity to exercise their creative energies, speak their minds, and be heard by an audiencethroughout the city. The 2003 edition of Poet’s Market recognizes hArtworks as “an outstanding example ofwhat a literary journal can be (for anyone of any age).”
This issue is the culmination of eight weeks of Holocaust studies as part of our “Teaching Tolerance
Through Literature” curriculum. Our students have read, discussed and responded to a series of works,
from the poetry of Primo Levi and Nellie Sachs to the writings of children from the concentration campTerezin. In partnership with the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum, we have made two museum visits,
and we have held discussions at the school with Holocaust survivors. By confronting the issues raised by
the Holocaust—tolerance, justice, authority, personal values, and community—young people can makeimportant discoveries about themselves and help to chart a moral course into their own futures.
We have many friends who have helped to make hArtworks possible, and we would like to express our
gratitude to them. Our sincerest thanks go out to the Arcana Foundation, the Morris and Gwendolyn
Cafritz Foundation, the Commonweal Foundation, the D.C. Children and Youth Investment Trust Corporation, the Junior League of Washington, the National Endowment for the Arts, Michael Joy and TSC/Joy
Monterrey, LLC, Borders Books and Music, Free Hand Press, the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum, theArena Stage, the Shakespeare Theatre, Kathleen Huston and McGuire Associates, Joyce Page and Ms.
Printing, the Washington Council of Agencies, our friends at Popeye’s on Malcolm X Avenue, Ann
Brogioli, Denis Collins, Ruth Dickey, Fritz Edler, Barb Gomperts, Tom and Carolyn Grey, Betsy Holt,David Klevan, Paul Mandelbaum, Bill Miller, Raina Rose Tagle, Chris Thaiss, and Vera M. White.
We would also like to thank the following administrators, teachers, and staff who are our partners in thisendeavor: Superintendent Paul L. Vance, Assistant Superintendent for Middle/Junior High Schools Dr. Patricia
Watkins, Principal Lee. E. Epps; Assistant Principals Willie Bennett, Gregory Better, and Yvonne Davis; Ms.
Tameka Brown, Ms. Gloria Fergusson, Ms. Shirley Grooms, Ms. Carolyn Jackson, Ms. Mary Johnson, Ms. Irma
Morgan, and Ms. Jaimee Neel; Ms. Eleanor Elie, Ms. Pamela McKinney, and Ms. Maevern Williams.
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The hArtworks Editorial Board
Writers-in-Residence: Andy Fogle, Marla Melito, and Nancy Schwalb
Student Editors: Chris’stina Allen, Alexis Arrington, Dennis Brown, Tony Bush, Shavon Butler,
Chantz Claggette, Deanna Dickson, Amanda Fernandez, Gregory Finch, Seaquette Guinn, Monica
Harris, Joseph Heath, Dayna Hudson, Joseph Hudson, Marcus Jackson, Ricardo Jackson, Terrance
Jackson, Van Jackson, Brian Johnson, Jawara Johnson, LaVon Johnson, Beyonca Jones, Sherrell
Jones, Marlos Kornegay, Kenneth McDonald, Raheem Osbourne, Jaslyn Pugh, Timothy Rawls,
Chayna Ross, James Saunders, Aaron Smith, Andrew Staton, Stephen Staton, DeAngelo Thomas,
Kenneth Thompson, Pamula Twyman, Brandon Weston, Nathaniel Wilkes, Delonte Williams,
Reginald Williams, Darrien Willis, and Lashawn Willis

3○InsidehArtworks presents guest author Esther Rosenfeld Starobin ................ 30
Esther Rosenfeld Starobin
The Gift ......................................................................................................... 31
The Cemetery ................................................................................................ 32
Our student writers
Brittney Braxton Face, Facing Face, Facing ....................................................... 54
Teairra Braxton You Will Struggle ...................................................................... 42
Tony BushBorn to Fly ................................................................................................... 28
Winter Flower .............................................................................................. 51
My Hands Are a City ................................................................................... 51
Chantal Campbell Do Not Die .......................................................................... 50
Tayonne Casey Why? ........................................................................................ 18
Verona Clifton Self-Portrait ............................................................................... 56
DeAngelo Covington Blue ................................................................................. 37
Candace Craig
My Grandmother as a Star .......................................................................... 50
Do Not Die................................................................................................... 50
Clarence Crump Shame .................................................................................... 42
Lovette Dickerson Tell my story ........................................................................ 23
Deanna Dickson I don’t know why .................................................................... 35
Gregory Finch Tell My Story ............................................................................. 12
Lewis Franklin Identity ..................................................................................... 46
Lamont Gaines The Sun’s Dream ......................................................................... 9
Angelina Gomez
To The Enemies ............................................................................................ 39
Strength........................................................................................................ 39
Tamethia Greene My Mother ............................................................................. 55
Nico Griffin Dislike ........................................................................................... 49
Shariah Gross Block ........................................................................................... 52
Andre Harper I Once Had a Friend ................................................................... 37
Eugertha Harris I don’t know why ..................................................................... 16
Monica Harris
Broken body, broken soul? ............................................................................. 16
Never Again ................................................................................................. 18
I don’t know why .......................................................................................... 33
Danielle Harrison From Darkness to Darkness.................................................. 53
Patrice Harrison Home Lost ......................................................................... 27
Christopher Harvin Brave Man ........................................................................ 41

4

Ceaira Hawkins Pain Is Good Company ............................................................ 52
Joseph Heath
Never Again ................................................................................................. 10
In a way ....................................................................................................... 10
Different ....................................................................................................... 10
DeAndre Hobbs I Thought ................................................................................ 54
Andrew Horn Those Winter Sundays ................................................................ 20
Dayna Hudson
I Feel ............................................................................................................. 11
I Remember ................................................................................................... 15
Joseph Hudson
Do not erase .................................................................................................. 19
Doors ............................................................................................................ 26
Timeless cries for help .................................................................................... 29
Marcus Jackson Fast life .................................................................................... 29
Rashanda Jackson The Birds Arrive ................................................................... 53
Ricardo Jackson Who Is Lost? ............................................................................ 52
Steven Jackson Black ......................................................................................... 36
Terrance Jackson
January 14, 2003 .......................................................................................... 14
Why I love being a twin ................................................................................. 14
Bullet ............................................................................................................. 44
She Is Not Alone ............................................................................................ 47
Van Jackson
Dirty World ................................................................................................... 21
Dream ........................................................................................................... 48
This Is What I Want the Most of All ............................................................... 48
Doors ............................................................................................................ 48
Raynese Jefferson My Lost Father ..................................................................... 43
Shaquiel Jenkins
Never Again .................................................................................................. 22
Broken Body, Broken Soul .............................................................................. 23
Brian Johnson I don’t know why ........................................................................ 16
Jawara Johnson
Memory ......................................................................................................... 13
Me ................................................................................................................. 49
Thieves of Light ............................................................................................. 58
When the City Moon Looks Out on the Streets ............................................... 58
The Living End .............................................................................................. 58
Kiara Johnson Bless These Memories ................................................................. 11
Marcellus Johnson Fear of Death ...................................................................... 425

InsideNicola Johnson I Warned You............................................................................ 45
Roosevelt Jones, Jr. Camps ................................................................................ 38
Sherrell Jones Never Again ................................................................................ 12
Takim Kenner A New Man Walking .................................................................. 56
Dakia Koon Bless these memories ...................................................................... 24
Chanice Little I will live ..................................................................................... 18
Richard Lynch
My Mother’s Clock ......................................................................................... 56
Five Flights Up .............................................................................................. 57
Chain ............................................................................................................ 57
Tiffany Mace Taken ............................................................................................ 40
Tae Manager Witness ......................................................................................... 38
Sharkiyla MarshallSearching ....................................................................................................... 27
The Structured Pieces .................................................................................... 28
Gabrielle Martin
Broken Body-Broken Soul? ............................................................................... 8
So little time, but enough for war ..................................................................... 8
Tribute to Survivors ......................................................................................... 9
Shannon Matthews What I Saw ........................................................................ 43
Keisha McDonald Visiting the Holocaust Museum ............................................. 40
Raekala Middleton Sunflower ........................................................................... 33
TyVaughn Montgomery Broken Body, Broken Soul ............................................ 15
Sarai Morris
Never Again .................................................................................................. 22
Four Corners ................................................................................................. 25
Delonte Morrow The fusion of shooting stars ..................................................... 34
Nathaniel Nails POEMS .................................................................................... 28
Sharvelle Osborne Fear .................................................................................... 46
Tron Pannel
New Year ....................................................................................................... 54
Above ............................................................................................................ 55
Kelly Perkins Never Again ................................................................................. 24
Kiera Price Broken Body, Broken Soul? ............................................................... 34
Timothy Rawls
My Mind ....................................................................................................... 25
I Am Leaping into a New Year ....................................................................... 45
James Saunders Remnants ................................................................................. 26
Johniece Simms My Lost Father ........................................................................ 41
Javaon Skinner Hope ......................................................................................... 36
Aaron Smith The Missing Person ....................................................................... 46

6

Deon Smith Tell My Story ................................................................................. 15
Patricia Smith Strength ...................................................................................... 36
DeAngelo Spann Never Again ........................................................................... 13
Stephen Staton
I don’t know why ........................................................................................... 19
Can You Describe This ................................................................................... 38
Michael Stuckey Why ......................................................................................... 9
Regina Taylor I Still Wonder .............................................................................. 49
DeAngelo Thomas People ................................................................................. 26
Pamula Twyman Run ........................................................................................ 29
Deanna Vaughan I Have Enough Treasures from the Past .................................. 51
Jamal Walden Trapped ...................................................................................... 39
Anita White My Lost Chain ............................................................................... 56
Ronell White Imagine This ................................................................................ 37
Delonte Williams
What Do You Think? ..................................................................................... 14
Never Again .................................................................................................. 17
Latrice Williams All Alone ................................................................................. 44
Reginald Williams
Yellow Star Conversion .................................................................................. 17
Inside the walls of sleep .................................................................................. 20
The Battle ...................................................................................................... 21
Shantel Williams Bless these memories .............................................................. 33
Kevin Wood
I don’t know ................................................................................................... 34
Uprising ........................................................................................................ 35
Lonnisha Young Embarrassment ....................................................................... 47

7

Broken Body—Broken Soul?
Hate and difference have caused destruction
and lives are put to a pause.
I’ve heard too many cries and seen cancelled lives,closed down homes, hear their cry.
Death is a word that they hear often.
But the wounds begin to mend,
as they pretend they aren’t hurt,
searching for some type of hope.
Realize you are not alone.
The body is broken, but not your soul.
We remember the forgotten lives,
the ones who lived their lives despised.
Gabrielle Martin

So little time, but enough for war
A heart of gold, but a face of stone.
I really don’t like war,
it left my grandmother alone.
I can’t understand the concept of war,
It reminds me of medieval knights with their swords.
Do we have to go to war?
Can’t you remember the peace before?
Tattered letters and torn souls
At least we live our lives bold
Because I refuse to stand down,
Instead of war, let’s have peace,Think of those out on the streets.
Walls close in on me,
War, I don’t want to see.
Gabrielle Martin

8

The Sun’s DreamThe sun dreams of being a squareand having a lot of friends
The only friends he has are the planets and the windHe dreams about being cold and having the flu
He dreams about taking a break in the summer,
because that’s when he works the hardest
The sun dreams, the sun dreams
Oh boy, how the sun dreams
Lamont Gaines

Tribute to Survivors
Memories of the changes remain,
For the survivors, life will never be the same
Because of the Nazi’s reign.
Such hatred of what’s different,
Because they’re not like you.
Families separated, civilians killed,
When I heard, I said “Is this real?”
Freedom taken away and
Hateful symbols displayed,
It’s over now, and times have changed.
Gabrielle Martin

Beyonca Jones

justiceWhy
I don’t know why my life is the way it isI think it is that way because
my Dad has not always been in my life
Sometimes I would like to sit in my room and cry
But I can’t, because I am a soldier
Why, why does my life have to be this way?
Sometimes I feel like breaking glass
and a camp far away
Michael Stuckey

9Never Again
Never again will I sit and watch
people crying and not ask why.
People picking up guns, shooting people.
Why?
A bullet grazed my arm.
I got up and said, no more.
Never again.
For that brief moment I felt
like I was somebody,but fear and death ran through my mind.
First comes courage, then comes honor.
Joseph Heath

In a way
In a way, life opens and closes.
People open to new things andthen they close them off
for the next best thing.
In a way, I do the opposite,
because I figure
everyone is their own person.
I don’t close off one thing for another—
I never forget.
Joseph Heath

Different
Racist, no, much worse—
picture people walking down the street,being put on a train,
told they were going to a better place,and all of a sudden, boom, you’re dead.
I can’t see how someone could killanother human being—Could you?
One man killed many people
Why? Because he wanted people to bejust like him.
I think people are supposed to be different.
Joseph Heath

10

Bless These Memories
Bless these memories, where flowers bloomed
and opened up, but now they wither
to the ground.
Boarded up houses, broken glass scattered,windows busted, forgotten likethe destruction of buildings, closed up
never to be opened again.
Death, who pays a visit to people, crying
shouting, no hope anywhere, shame
covers the world.
Difference, hate, fear in the air, tonever be exposed to happy people,
poor, running for life, runningfrom problems.
Bless some memories,
because bad memories
should never be blessed.
Kiara Johnson

Jawara Johnson

identity
I FeelYellow stars and small train cars,
I feel discriminated.
The starvation and separation,
I feel sorry.
All of the labor with zero wages,
I feel void.
One meal a day and nowhere to play,
I feel bad.
Sickness, dying and babies crying,
I feel sad.
No kind of classes and poison gasses,
I feel ungrateful.
Dayna Hudson

11Tell My Story
Every night it’s a gold star. It looks like broken glass.
My window is made of hope. Yesterday I had fear.
Today makes a difference.
I hate clouds. I think they are gas camps.
I don’t like destruction, trains.
When I say Why, I change the season to spring.
The waves are death. Their blooms opened up
to change the weather.
Tonight, I can predict I’ll be crying green kids.
I remember the suitcases, closed down into running soldiers.
I will tell no more until summer.
Gregory Finch

Never Again
Never again should this happen,
no one knows
how to drink water they had
to go outside and pick up snow.
It’s just memories.
Daniel was a true survivor.
He had to give up everything,
his diary and golden medal from his Dad.
He missed his sister and his mother.
He was filled with fear, but he survived.
Millions of adults died, and millions of children.
I never knew such a large number of children
could be killed like that...
Please save the children.
Sherrell Jones

12

Memory

Diamond Williams

tolerance

As I walk through the valley of death,an eel electrocuting my life,
destroying family and friends,
ones who care about me,
people I love.
It’s like we’re in a desert, each one of us,
picked off one by one.
There’s nothing but violence,
down every alley, every building.
Drugs a remora, sucking off your brain,
destroying your memories.
Me, I remember everything.
I’m like a mountain collapsing,yet I refuse to fall.
Jawara Johnson

Never Again

The boy who got shot because of something stupid
never again.
The girl who got pregnant for money
never again.
The dad who got killed thinking he was a high roller
never again.
The baby who grew up to be a drug addict
never again.
About the crying angels who are crying
because of the why people live never again.
Puzzled about everyday life
Never again.
DeAngelo Spann

13

January 14, 2003
I went to a museum—not an ordinary museum,
it was the Holocaust Museum.
I saw a boy who hated fear,
loved hopeand never loved death,a boy who survived
with one of his parents
and never used guns,
a boy named Daniel.
Terrance Jackson

Why I love being a twin
My mom always says:“Boy, if you wasn’t a twin,
your punishment would be double.”
Terrance Jackson

What Do You Think?
If you lived when I do, Germans, what would you do?
Hope? Live, die, all you see is red,the blood that millions of people shed,
the blood of hope, the blood of life,
the blood of agony and pain.
Do you think that is the right place for a five year old child?
Do you think that you should be taken from your childto die for the idea of another person?
Do you think it’s right for kids to die from gas, starvation, guns?
Do you think it is right that people do not know whenor what to stand for?
Delonte Williams

14

I Remember
I remember fear and hate
I remember trying to escape
Kids crying, parents shouting
Broken glass
People trying to survive
Soldiers, trains, camps, death
Never forgotten
Today is tomorrow’s yesterday
Dayna Hudson

Tell My Story
Tell my story about yesterday,
about the parents’ death,closed down stores, houses boarded up,
kids on moldy mattresses,nighttime comes with little food to eat,kids are crying, shouting, running awayfrom camps they have to go to, or guns being fired.
How is one kid going to survive?

l-r Delonte Williams, Marcus Jackson

justice

Deon Smith

Broken Body, Broken Soul
Broken glass, broken hearts,
everywhere I go, broken love,
broken families, broken stars,
broken waves, broken snow,
broken feelings—
This is a broken world that we live in.
TyVaughn Montgomery

15

I don’t know why
There is a gold star
I don’t know why.
The frost, the snow, it makes it so cold
I don’t know why.
I remember the Holocaust
I don’t know why.
Maybe because of the way the kids were crying
Don’t ask me why, cause it touches their heart.
Brian Johnson

Broken body, broken soul?
I saw broken glass
people shouting, crying out for help.
The fear, the tormenting,how hateful was Lodz Ghetto to the Jews.
Stores boarded up, running them from their homes,
crying from kids, women and men.
No hope, no prayer.
Death is on its way to eternity.
Why would some do something like this?
People never forget what you’ve done,
so never forget the world, how it ended.
Monica Harris

I don’t know why
I don’t know why stars only come at night.
Guns shoot off in wrong directions.
Parents tell their kids fighting won’t solve their differences.
I don’t know why people escape their homes.
Why don’t clouds turn colors.
I just don’t know why.
Eugertha Harris

16

Yellow Star Conversion
Isolated like the runt of the litter,
Dehumanized because of your religion,
Because of a star on your shirt.
Perfect is his standard, one he doesn’t meet.
The hollow dreams of his imagination—
mayhem, death and pain,
yet he’s living in so-called luxury.
Real happiness can’t come from living
off of the labor of others.
Into all this devastation comes
the oasis of hope for the Jews.
Day brings happiness, but night comes
and night brings misery.
Out of the moonless dark appears the sun
and the oasis returns.
Reginald Williams
l-r Reginald Williams, Monica Harris

identity
Never Again

The streets are closed down and forgotten
Hoping that the gold star will spare my life
Crying soldiers are lost,
Looking for a new hope as the frost
falls off their faces.
Destruction starts, broken glass falls
into my eyes, blood overflows
the hope of yesterday,
death waves flow as sons and daughters
get taken away from home
and are gone forever.

17
Delonte Williams

Never Again
Never again will there be slavery
Never again there would be dark clouds in my world
Never again, no more closed doors
Never again weapons being used
Never again flowers blooming for the bad
Never again death in my world
Never again nighttime for the evil
Never again forgotten people
Never again racists judge people by their cover.
Monica Harris

Why?
Why does talking turn to shouting?
Why does anger turn to pouting?
Why do babies turn to children?
Why do people get hurt, and
Why is hurt a feeling?
Why does sleepiness turn to rest?
Why does life turn to death?
Tayonne Casey

I will live
There will always be power in me.
There will always be those three words in me, “I will live.”
Every time I say those words it tells me to never give up.
I have a feeling that puts clarity in my life.
But I also feel like this is the day that I will perish.
There will always be self-esteem in me.
Soon I will shine like emery.
Sometimes I feel hard, as hard as granite.
I say those three words, “I will live”
And then I am smooth as ice.
Chanice Little18

Do not erase
The mouth of the child opens
The fear and hate collapse
The shouting escapes
The yellow star has turned blue
The clouds are white again
What was forgotten is remembered
The tan grass has turned green
The why is still a question.
Joseph Hudson

clockwise from top left Tony Bush, Monica Harris, Delonte
Williams, DeAngelo Thomas, Marcus Jacksontolerance
I don’t know why

Every night there is a gold star in the sky.
I don’t know why.
And a window that was fresh, now it’s boarded up.
I don’t know why.
Yesterday hope, tomorrow fear.
I don’t know why.
They chased running chickens into death and plucked their feathers.
I don’t know why.
I am trying to survive this world.
And I don’t know why.
Stephen Staton

19

Inside the walls of sleep
Inside the walls of the sleeper
lie the illusions of sleep.
The disasters of slumber
poison my dreams,
draining and draining away my courage
until I spring like a jack-in-the-box
to escape from this black hole.
But walls are not always the same.
There are the marvelous fantasies
of immortality and unreality
until tomorrow’s day comes,
and the door opens to reality and new possibilities.
Reginald Williams

Those Winter Sundays
A desperate mother calls my name.
All I know is my head and my pillow.
My head weighs 2000 pounds.
As I open my eyes, the bright light blinds me.
My dirty, stinky dog on my chest.
Today, I want to stay in bed
as a day with no school should be lived.
The icy air rushes over me as I whip the covers off.
Mind says no
Body says staywhich one should I listen to?
I know I must go,
But I don’t want to.
What is the point?
I wish I went.
Andrew Horn

20

The Battle
The misty woods of misfortune
wander the vast pastures of my mind
wanting to escape, wanting to burn the pasturewith embers and a wheel of fire.
But the cascade of water doesn’t always comeand the woods escape to haunt me,
stalking my conscience.
The trees are hollow and will die.
But they will return.
Until that day I will fight.
Reginald Williams

justiceJames Saunders

Dirty World
When you see people on the street
and someone drops a gum wrapper on the groundmaybe they don’t care about the world.
Why do people litter?
They just don’t care.
Like my father always said,“It’s a dirty world but it’s still spinning.
You can’t do nothing about it.”But just try to live in it.
Van Jackson21

Never Again
Here in the ghetto, never again.
To see what I had, or could have been.
Truly, the last sight of my family and home.
Them packing me up, shipping me off to a concentration camp.
In my world, I daydream of candy and ice cream.
In my bed at home watching TV.
Then I go back to reality
Me seeing what was there
Me being scared
Me saying I haven’t seen my family
Being pushed and shoved.
Not being loved.
I wonder why.

Never Again
Sarai Morris

Before he came, all was well
Me and my kids had so much fun
The sun rises, doves sing
I go to the kitchen, a cookie is on the table
My face starts to shine
Knowing I’m loved makes it good
I go through the day laughing and playing
Sunset comes
We go to sleep to see what tomorrow brings.
Then tragedy strikes.
Hitler leaves a wake of destruction in his path
He comes and takes my hopes and dreams
Kills my kids
Takes me to the ghetto
My memories of my kids
Never again can I see their face
Never again can I see cookies on the table
Never again can I hear doves singing
It’s gone now
Never again.
Shaquiel Jenkins

22

Broken Body, Broken Soul
Jews were slaughtered
Hitler laughed
50 people put in one roomhe gave them a blood bath.
Houses burned, forced into ghettos
Through winter snow and frost
Parents separated from kids
Kids crying, parents sighing.
They know death is coming along
But in a room there’s a boy who says
The beat me, hurt me, shoot me, and stab me
But they won’t break my soul.
Shaquiel Jenkins

Terrance Jackson

identity
Tell my story
Fear of the day the world would end
The hate that I had for my father
The ghetto where guns go off
Crying because my grandmother is gone
The death of me is what I fear
Opened up so I could come out
Camps where I remember my first fight
Hope is what I had for my grandmother to live
Remembering me running from my fears
Forgotten the great things I’ve done
My mother shouting for joy and hope
Soldiers fighting for us
Why is this world coming to an end?
Lovette Dickerson

23

Bless these memories
Broken glass against the snow
Remember the soldiers of green and gold
Forgotten the death from crying parents
Give hope and stars against the waves.
Uprooted bowls make different clouds
From guns to fear because
They never escape from yesterday
While the spring blooms and the kids survive
By shouting “why” all the time.
Dakia Koon

Never Again
Closed down out in the open
Kids running, playing together
Love hidden somewhere
Hate has taken over.
Fear in everyone
Windows and broken glass
Death is increasing, guns shooting
Everyone’s trying to get away.
Being forgotten, having no one to care for you
Four seasons go by, the snow is still there
Remembering the escapes, the destruction
And the soldiers today.
Looking at that gold star.
Kelly Perkins

24

My Mind
My mind is like a fieldwith a building blocking my memory.
It is like an eel
striking me in my brain.
It is like a lion
roaring in my ear.
It is like a caterpillar
sliding through my thoughts.
It is like a kangaroo
jumping through my head.
It is like a waterfall
washing away my dreams.
Timothy Rawls

tolerancel-r Chantz Claggette, Tyjeanna Hight

Four Corners

In this maze I got lostI saw four different corners,
four different things.
Wiping my eyes, thinking this couldn’t be.
In the first corner I see my grandmother looking at me.
I say, “I wish you lived a lifetime”
to be able to put your face against mine.
In the second corner I see my grandmother and me
looking out the window, staring at tomorrows.
In the third corner I see the color black looking at me
I begin to cry, thinking why the color had to be black
like a sparrow reminding me of all the sorrow.
In the fourth corner I see me feelingand thinking of all that could be but never was
Because my grandmother died before I could look in her eyes.
Sarai Morris

25

Remnants
The chasm of lost dreams
yearns to be filledwith the molten lava of misplaced memories
which will eventually generate into jagged rocks
that my mind will use to cut through the exaggeration.
I dread, yet I desire that crack in my long term.
I think I’m going crazy over these rounded half-truths,
but where’s the other half?
The dove flew across the endless pearl ivory sky.
He flitted to and fro with an uninterrupted pace.
Into a clear white
Up into the sky, high up.
James Saunders

Doors
Doors opening and closing to love and happiness.
Doors closing and opening to hate and defeat.
The opening and closing is in the hands of the beholder.
The opening and closing will determine your future.
A door is a way into the mind.
A door affects your past.
Life is a closed door in a locked house.
Joseph Hudson

PeopleWhy do people kill other people?
All we are doing is making less people.
I don’t understand some people.
They think guns and violence will solve their problems,
And that’s not right.
Broken glass, all that hate, needs to stop.
Stop the violence, bring in the love.
People, before you do something bad,
Change your mind.
DeAngelo Thomas

26Home Lost
Paper, pencils and pens
Tears from a child
Crying, escaping fear
Hate unforgotten,
Hate and death.
Broken glass
stabbing into the clouds of dreams
Soldiers drop to the ground
Guns plunk down too.
No, not war.
We can’t take the pain.
Patrice Harrison

Tony Bush

Searchingjustice

I crawled through the cultural ways of life.
I came to the end of the line and became the history of the world.
I designed a home built for a mother who is a queen
Without a king, that is divine for a perfect dream.
I am logical.
I once became the sunlight of a kingdom.
Making people come before me.
I searched for a theme ofChildren making jobs fit for themselves.

I crossed a cloud when the air flowed through the valleys of water.
I turned myself into a shadow of intoned grace.
I looked back and turned forth and saw me.
Sharkiyla Marshall27

The Structured Pieces
Before time, I came and conquered the world.
Right before the Romans were on top of the world.
Crete was just a song.
I saw tragedy strike before me.
I chopped through the secrets of the war.
Suggesting I seek the world.
I crawled over the states trying to conquer the world alone.
Succeeding before dawn, I was caught beside myself
Through the war, beyond victory.
Sharkiyla Marshall

Born to Fly

POEMS
Poems are like sweet, gentle words
that make you feel much better.
On the other hand, they give you pain to write.
Just make me want to tear up things and fight.
You can write about dogs and frogs, running on logs.
Fishes and hens getting blown back by wind.
Or you can just throw the paper with nothing on it,
walk out of the room, and hit something with a broom.
So just sit back, relax,
and try to write about doves flying with wings,
because poems are imaginary things!
Nathaniel Nails

28

Young, steely breeze,
cold to me.
Liquid questions
ease by rhythmic streams.
Why drinkfrom my brilliant pictures?
Delicious skies
awake a desire born to fly.
Tony BushRun
Frost, snow, a pond
My feet jumping,like when the spring stars bloom.
This will never be forgotten.
Running and shouting,kids crying, just for fun.
Then here comes destruction.
I have my suitcases all packed.
Shouting and crying, six guns in the air.
Hate, fear, all my hope left yesterdayGold star stands on my heart.
Can I survive?
I’ll try to raise my head and stand like a soldier.
Pamula Twyman

Fast life

identity

DeAngelo Thomas

When I see a cheetah run, it reminds me how fast life can go.
Once you’re a kid, playing with other kids.
Next you’re a teen, hanging with your friends,
having fun, going out to movies, and shopping at the mall.
Then you look up and you are an adult, looking for a job,trying to pay bills and take care of your kids.
That is why I will slow down and try to take my time,
because I know that I’m still a child.
Marcus Jackson

Timeless cries for help
A candle in the dark room is a cry for help.
A shoelace that’s untied is a cry for help.
A door that’s closed is a cry for help.
Snow that is untouched is a cry for help.
A window that is closed is a cry for help.
A seed that is not planted is a cry for help.
Joseph Hudson

29

featured writer Esther Rosenfeld Starobin

Esther Rosenfeld Starobin left her home and family in
1939, at the age of two. After the Nazis came to powerin Germany, the situation for Jews in that country had
become so desperate that her parents sent their fourdaughters to live with foster families in England.
Thousands of other parents also sent their children away
to safety through an operation known as
Kindertransport. Ms. Starobin’s parents were murderedby the Nazis in 1944, but she and her sisters werereunited after World War II. They came to the UnitedStates in 1947, when Ms. Starobin was ten years old.
She attended Kramer Junior High School and Anacostia
High, and grew up to become a middle school teacher.
On February 25, 2003, she shared her story withmembers of the Hart Middle School Writing Club.

30

Top: l-r Esther Rosenfeld Starobin, Gabrielle Martin
Center: l-r Esther Rosenfeld Starobin, James Saunders, Devin Hudson, Joseph Hudson, Reginald
Williams, Monica Harris, Gabrielle Martin
Bottom: l-r Esther Rosenfeld Starobin, Joseph Hudson, Reginald Williams

The Gift
I suppose our home in Adelsheim, Germany was typical of the homes found in that small town. My parents usedpart of the house and the remainder was rented to two ladies. Though I have no memory of it, I have heard mysisters talk of the small parlor that was off-limits to them. My oldest sister, Bertl, mentioned the very fancy dollthat was kept there for show. It was not a toy to be played with by the girls. On the very detailed list of articles
found in our home that the Germans compiled after our parents were deported in October 1940 there is listed“a doll”. Could this be the doll my sister remembers as being so fancy that she was not allowed to play with it?
Our family was permanently separated in 1939 when my three sisters were sent to England on thekindertransport. They had been living in Aachen with two aunts after Jewish children were forbidden to go to theregular schools. In March 1939 they left for England without the opportunity to say goodbye to their mother andfather. Our Aunt Hannah, my mother’s sister, who lived in England had found separate homes for them to go toupon their arrival in England. Later that year, in June, I too was sent on a kindertransport to England. I went tolive with the Harrisons in Thorpe. This placement had been arranged through the Quakers who had worked with
the Jewish community to bring the children out of Germany, Vienna, and Czechoslovakia. The Harrisons were adevout Christian family who had hoped for a little boy to be a playmate for their only son, Alan. However, whenthat didn’t work out they agreed to take me.
Soon after I arrived in Thorpe I came down with scarlet fever and had to be kept in quarantine as was the custom
at that time. Alan was not allowed in the room where I was but played with me through the window. Once I had
recuperated I became a devoted follower of Alan who was nine at the time. I have been told he quickly accepted
me into his life and allowed me to go places with him. While I immediately accepted Alan it took me longer to getused to Uncle Harry (Mr. Harrison). I was somewhat uneasy around him. It wasn’t clear what previous experiences I had had that led to this behavior.
While Alan was in school, Auntie Dot and I would often go into Norwich to shop and visit. In order to get to the bus
stop we had to walk across an empty field. One day we met a woman while we were walking across this field tocatch the bus to Norwich. In her hands she held a beautiful china doll. Auntie Dot spoke to her telling her that I had
been sent by my parents to England to be safe from the Nazis. Without hesitation this woman handed me the doll.
What a wonderful gift! The doll’s eyes opened and closed as I moved her up and down; the painted features madeher look so real. The doll, that I immediately named Betsy, had fingers and toes. I found it hard to believe someone just gave this wonderful toy to me. When we arrived home Auntie Dot gave me some left-over baby clothes
and I began knitting items to supplement them. Betsy became the joy of my life! Unlike the doll in Germany, thisdoll was played with.
In 1947 when I hastily left Norwich to meet my sister for the journey to America, Betsy was left behind.
I suppose she really would not have fitted into life in America. Also at ten, I was getting a little too oldfor dolls. Actually once we were settled into my uncle’s house on North Capitol Street in Washington
D.C. someone did buy me a doll. The only thing I remember about that doll was her name, Monica.

31

Once settled into Washington, my sisters and I lived with an aunt and uncle for a couple of years.
After my sister Edith joined us in the U.S.A., we moved to an apartment of our own. Bertl and Edith
worked and made enough money to support us. Ruth was in college and worked to obtain room andboard. By this time I was finishing junior high and entering high school. I had made one very goodfriend, Grace, in the first junior high I attended. We were more interested in clothes, boys, grades, etc.
than in discussing our families. I don’t think I ever really explained to Grace why I lived with mysisters and she never asked. It was just the way it was! After high school, I was fortunate enough to beable to attend college and become a teacher. I married and had two daughters in the following years.
Of course, Auntie Dot, my foster mother, kept the doll as she did so many mementos of our time together. When
Alan, my foster brother, came over sixteen years later as a Fulbright exchange teacher he brought Betsy with him.
I was delighted to have her again but kept her well hidden from the curious fingers of our young daughters.
Years passed and I occasionally unwrapped Betsy to admire her beauty and remember the kindness of that English
woman so many years ago. Eventually, the girls were gone from the house, and I had money to use for frivolous
items. My friend Harriet and I went to visit the doll hospital in Ellicott City, Maryland. By now Betsy’s eyes had
fallen back into her head and some of her fingers and toes were less than perfect. The doll hospital owner withridiculous solicitation asked if she might undress Betsy. She did so and began to tell me about her origins. Like me
Betsy came from Germany and was somewhat destroyed. However, the owner said she could be mended. So I left
Betsy to be fixed and redressed. When I picked her up, the doll looked new. She was splendid in her fresh outfit.
Only when you looked carefully could you see the scars from the previous years.
Esther Rosenfeld Starobin
October 14, 2002

The Cemetery
Tombstones in a row
Circles connect the family
I wish I knew them
The strangeness of it
Centuries of family
All are forgotten
Beautiful, peaceful
Untouched by dreadful events
Torn apart from me
The chain broken
A generation murdered
Stories left untold

32

Start the chain again
Search our memories
To tell each other.
Esther Rosenfeld Starobin
October 18, 2001

I don’t know why
I don’t know why there is killing,
no hope, no survival,
screaming and shouting.
I don’t know why there is no more spring,no more flowers blooming.
I don’t know why the clouds are gray,stores closing down.
I just don’t know why all this commotion
is going on in this town.
I don’t know why there is no more sunshine,then we die, the world comes to an end.
Monica Harris

Sunflower
Here I am
Got kicked out of my house
I’m in the ghetto scrubbing floors
Washing the sidewalk, so many stains
Wishing I had wings to fly away
But every morning, no wings.
I see no ice cream truck
No pennies on the groundI smell sewerNot fresh air
I’m told to fight for what I have to believe
But do I come?

Delonte Williams

tolerance

Raekala Middleton

Bless these memories

At nighttime, I see people running,kids crying, parents shouting,or people being forgotten
because the years go by and I wonder sometimes
why people have to die because of gunshots.
I remember the day of my best friend’s death.
I was heartbroken, I felt weak,
and my heart opened up and I asked God
Why couldn’t she be a soldier and survive?
Shantel Williams

33

Broken Body, Broken Soul?
What?
Why me?
It feels like I need hope
Or am I forgotten?
Where are my friends?
Will I survive?
I hear guns, babies crying, older ones shouting.
I see parents taken away by soldiersand others running and running,
shouting “open up, open up.”
I don’t want to be here.
Can I escape, or should I remember?
Kiera Price

The fusion of shooting stars
One day I was walking from aftercare.
It was six o’clock and pitch dark outside.
That put something on my mind.
As I continued wandering, I tripped over a pebble.
When I got up, I looked in the sky.
Looks like the stars finally showed happiness for once.
Delonte Morrow

I don’t know
Why are kids crying? (I don’t know.)
Why are kids lying? (I don’t know.)
Why are kids playing with guns? (I don’t know.)
Why are kids watching the stars and saying that’s not the one? (I don’t know.)
Why are people holding their suitcases ready to move? (I don’t know.)
We know how you feel. They did the same thing.
Kevin Wood34

UprisingUprising
the golden starplucked the wrong thing
now the hope of frost on cars
Uprising
the wrong one
don’t bang with sticks on the drum.
Uprising
the waves, whylook down or up
where’s the sky?
Kevin Wood

LaVon Johnson

I don’t know why

justiceI don’t know why kids hate.
I don’t know why soldiers don’t escape.
I don’t know why flowers bloom in spring.
I don’t know why stars appear at nighttime.
I don’t know why parents like shouting.
I don’t know why people fear trains.
I don’t know why hope went away yesterday.
I don’t know why broken glass falls from windows.
I don’t know why people say why.
I don’t know why people die.
All I know is I will survive.

35
Deanna Dickson

HopeBlue is my skinBlue is the color of the air
Blue is the color of the sky
Blue is the color of a heart
Blue is the color of wormwood
Blue is the color of the animals
Blue is the color of my soulBlue is the color of my bright bloom
Blue is the color of my bodyBlue is the color of a handBlue is the color of the world
Blue is the color of the earth
Blue is the color of my homeBlue is the color of my nameBlue is the color of my life
Blue is the color of my lightBlue is the light in meBlue is my world.

Black
Black is the night sky
The pitch street
The color of my hair
The shade of the shadows on the wall
The color of dark
The color the blind man sees
Steven Jackson

Javaon SkinnerStrength
Strength is believing in yourself
Strength is being strong
Strength is never giving up
Strength is about character
Strength is showing how strong you areStrength is being united
Strength is staying in and not going out
Strength is about standing up
Strength is about being yourself
And I would be Patricia.
Patricia Smith

36

I Once Had a Friend
I once had a friend who would laugh at my jokes
I once had a friend who met a few jerks
I once had a friend who was very slippery
I once had a friend who acted like Badilla
I once had a friend that hung around the wrong crew
I once had a friend that was very blue
I once had a friend.
P.S. He’s in jail.
Andre Harper

identity
Blue

Imagine ThisCan you describe the feeling
Of being cold and hungry every day,Not being able to talk, being trapped,
Working all day for no food or money,
Trying to get to freedom, but you can’t,
Hoping every day that you won’t die?
Imagine someone taking your shoes
And never giving them back,Walking around in the dirt
With glass cutting your feet,
Sleeping behind barbed wire andNever being able to leave.
Imagine wearing a star and a number,
No name, just the number 2468.
Imagine this, you wouldn’t like it.
Ronell WhiteBlue is the way of loneliness
Sometimes the sky
Blue is a something you want
But can’t getBlue is a broken heart, a heart that is lonely
Blue is something you want to eat, but you can’t
Blue is an ocean that splashes at nightBlue is a thoughtful mind.
DeAngelo Covington37Camps
How would you feel if you were nearly beaten to death by cold,
Closed in by barbed wire seeing things that you’ve never seen before,
Being assaulted, working for nothing, being hungry,
Every night praying that God brings you peace,
Wishing for silence,
Listening to someone being assassinated every minute,Wishing for freedom,
And having no shoes to wear.
Roosevelt Jones, Jr.

Witness
I stand as a witness to the common lot
With no hope in my eyes
The cold trains just run by
No escaping the barbed wire
No freedom from Auschwitz
Tae Manager

Can You Describe ThisA yellow star and barbed wires
People with hope that have been taken to camps
Their clothes are damp
They are hungry
They have no shoes
There’s no sun
They are gone
They are fighting
And trying to escape to freedom.
Do you know what this is?
It is the Holocaust.
Stephen Staton

38

Strength
Strength is the power to be the leader and not a follower.
Strength never lets anyone tear it apartBecause strength is a brave heart.
Strength is strong like the wind
And strength can never bend.
There is never a best for strength.
When people ask, “Why go on a ridiculous quest?”
It answers, “Life beyond death,”Strength is the endless breath.
Angelina Gomez

tolerance
To The Enemies
To the enemies of the State,
How much of this madness can we take?
Living in a world we didn’t make,Paying for a lot of adult mistakes.
Children grow up to become our young adults
Until we teach them how to hate.
Living in a world they didn’t make.
Living in a world that is filled with hate.
Jawara Johnson

Angelina Gomez

TrappedCan you describe this?
The cold nights when you can’t see anything
Within your sight. Trapped somewhere you
Don’t want to be. Someplace where silence is war.
Jamal Walden39Visiting the Holocaust Museum
We saw all the trains and
How it was back then.
I am glad it is not like that now.
They took stands
And raised their hands.
Then they had to wear a yellow star
And they couldn’t go very far.
They needed freedom, but
People would kill them.
There was always barbed wire
Because they would never tire.
They heard the sound of people calling
And felt their lives falling.
This is what I saw at the Holocaust museum
Keisha McDonald

Taken
They took people’s lives for nothing.
They separated families for nothing.
Just picture if this was us.
We would only have one pair of clothes
And would have to follow their rules.
If you didn’t you would be punished.
Good people were scared for their lives.
This is where people lost husbands, children, and wives.
Tiffany Mace

40

Brave Man
A brave man is strong
and so is his heart.
This man is powerfuland his might is too.
A brave man’s songcan never be wrong.
The waves in the water
will keep him alive.
This man’s light is soclear that it looks
like glass and waterwith yellow waves.
This man’s hair is longand so is his spirit.
He loves the waves.
They control his whole spirit.
Christopher Harvinl-r Marcus Jackson, Monica Harris, Tony Bush, Reginald Williams

justice
My Lost Father
He’s standing in front of me,
not knowing it’s me.
Should I say hi orwave goodbye?
He stood by the tree
and I just looked.
My friends are there
not knowing why.
So I looked at themand shook my head, about
to say goodbye in front of
everyone.
Johniece Simms

41

You Will Struggle
You will struggle till the day you must die
You will struggle till that day you can survive
You will struggle till you can stand up for yourself
You will struggle till Heaven’s gate opens up to be your jailYou will struggle all by yourself
You will struggle in front of everyone else.
Teairra Braxton

Shame
Shame is something that eats away
if you don’t do the right thing.
Shame drives a pink carthat he is very sad aboutbecause his favorite color is red.
Shame also eats pizza which makes him lonely.
Shame lives in a small house that makes him madbecause he wants a big house.
If shame walked down the street
and walked into somebody
he would cry because he felt sorry
about walking into them.
Clarence Crump

Fear of Death
Death waits for you at the dinner table.
Death scares you when you get out of the tub.
Death is as smooth as a razor blade,and like a hot knife through butter.
Death is like a cobra, striking fast.
Never let your guard down—
death can strike at any given time.
Marcellus Johnson

42My Lost Father
My father was lostand he couldn’t be found.
When I called for him
I heard no sound.
The love between us was forbidden
and it’s all becauseof where my lost father hid—in the darkness where no one could see.
He didn’t see how sad we could be.
Days and months went by
and I thought to myself, Why, God, why?
We weren’t close
when I thought we were.
My memory of him became a blur.
When you were lost
I had a lot of things to say.
I wondered if we ever weregoing to meet again one day.
As time went by
I denied you more and more.
At that time you weren’t even more important
than a trip to the store.
You weren’t there when I became a teen.
When I saw other kids with their dads
I felt dirty and unclean.
Now we’re together and it feels good.
Just never go back to hiding in those woods.
Raynese Jefferson

identity

Devin Hudson

What I Saw
I looked out the windowand saw the sun flickering on the ground.
I saw pine straws and not leaves,a clown in a car without gas.
It was cold so I invited him in
to sit in front of the fire,
and it started to snow.
But I got scared and put him out.
It snowed so hard
I think I saw the moon.
I feel a simple pain from my cat.
I think of dogs underwaterwith shoes on, walking on the sun.
A pumpkin with dignity.
And a lot of sunlight in his heart
and then I saw his face.
Shannon Matthews

43All Alone
She had a very small family
It was just her and her mother
They lived in a tree house
In an apple tree above the graveyard
They were very poor
They didn’t have much
They wore the same clothes since ‘99
They had to walk barefoot half the time
They used to live in a big white house
Before times got so
They had to leave
They left everything but sadness and pain

BulletOne day her mother left to find a job
She’d been gone about a month
When she passed away
And went to a better place
Her daughter cried mostly every day
Then she passed away
Over sadness and weakness
But she didn’t go to a better place
Because it wasn’t her time to go
She made herself go that way
It wasn’t the right way or the wrong way
She went her way, the down way
Latrice Williams

44

Dear Bullet,
You are fearful. I
hate you like you hate me.
Bullets bullets bullets andmore everyday. I wonder
when I will get hit
by one.
But I’m notbecause I’m faithful and I’mTerrance Jackson.
Terrance Jackson

I Am Leaping into a New YearI’m leaving the old yearwith my head down and crying
because my family is dying
like leaves coming off a tree
or like snow and rain coming from the sky
but I’m getting better
when my family says “I love you”
so before they leave
my new year is going to bea world of happinessand not sadness
Timothy Rawls

l-r Reginald Williams, Dayna Hudson

I Warned You

tolerance“I warned you too many times about going into that abandoned house” said Tommy’s mother.
“But mom—““No buts young man, now go up to your room and get ready for supper.”The next morning when Tommy got up for school he went downstairs, and as he reached forthe refrigerator door he saw a note which was written by his mother. It said, “Some of theadults from the neighborhood and I are going to the abandoned house to help clean and fix it
up. Be back before suppertime.”
When Tommy got home from school, he saw police cars and an ambulance in front of his
house. He ran towards the ambulance and saw that the person they were lifting on was
indeed his mother. Tommy rode with the police to the hospital and he waited in the waiting
room to see if his mother was going to be all right, but two hours later the doctor told him his
mother was dead.
He never got to tell his mother goodbye, but he visited her grave everyday, and two months
later, Tommy was dead.
Nicola Johnson

45

Fear
I fear monsters in my closet
at night when I’m asleep
I want someone to run them out
Oh help me please
I hear them every night
there in my closet and under my bed
Can someone get them out of there?
Sharvelle Osborne

Identity
I am the color of the sky
I am shaped like my mind
I can glide 15,000 miles before I fall
I sound like the thunder that does not stop
I am the number 21
I am food that tastes good together
like cake and hamburgers
I am a musical instrumentthat will put you to sleepand I am dying to say goodbye
Lewis Franklin

The Missing Person
There is a new kid in school and he is quieter than the smallest ant on the earth. He has an unknown
name because he doesn’t say a word. The other kids try to talk to him, but there is no answer.
Some days, he is not at school even though his mother sends him there. People start to put
up posters of the kid and I wonder, “Could he be missing, or someplace he’s not supposed to be?”I got some of my friends to help look for him every day after school. We went up to thewoods and found his shirt, shoes, socks, pants, and books. We looked for him that whole day.
When we turned our backs we heard a wolf howl. Then we saw the wolf and it looked justlike the kid. We ran out of the woods. As we ran we heard a voice saying “Help,” but we neverfound the kid.
Aaron Smith

46

She Is Not Alone
She is not alone
say the moon andthe stars
She is not alone
the whimpers andcries of a wolf
She is not alone
her mother says
and her father says
I am not alone
says the little
girl
Terrance Jackson

The Literary Magazine Club meets with Holocaust survivor Flora Singer

justice

Embarrassment
Embarrassment goesanywhere it makes you cry.
It drives a jeep and eats old moldy breadfor breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
It wears old dirty clothes and holey shoes.
Its pet is a rat
because it is dirty and fat.
The last thing it does isembarrass you in front of a boy.
It can even make you hidefrom somebody you really like,and makes you cry every single night.
Lonnisha Young

47

DreamI am like an eagle soaring
in the sky. I am the teardrop from your eyes.

Doors

There’s a loud roar like thewind, and this is my poem,
all within.
I am like a volcano bursting
into flames. Now the tears have stopped
falling from my eyes.
And what makes me feelbetter is writing a poem.

A door is in frontof me. Should I open
this door? It might be myfuture or an outrage.
One door has tobe my future but I
can’t pick the wrong
door or my life will beruined.

Van Jackson
So I open the second
door and fall througha blank life.
Van JacksonThis Is What I Want the Most of All
What I want themost of all is my family
and poem. Why do I want
my poem? Because it’s
my dream and my life.
It’s what I do.
Van Jackson48

Dislike
I dislike my house
because I got to lay in dirt
and for dinner I eat gross, dead rats.
I drive a bean to workand to the store to buy more food.
I dislike my motherbecause she beats me all up.
I dislike the way I dress
and the way I drink mop water.
I dislike the way I brush my teeth
with old bones,
and when I go to sleep,
I wake up on the highway.

I Still WonderI still wonder if life is life
because the way violence is hurting us.
I still wonder if I have love in my heart
for him/her, because it doesn’t seem so.
I still wonder if work is available
to us/them. I really don’t think people know.
I still wonder why love was here for me,
and I still wonder if life is life.

Nico Griffin

Regina Taylor

Meidentity

I am a boom of thundersweeping through the night.
I am a tornado throwing aroundcars and trees.
I am snow over your house likea canopy over the bed.
I am strong like a hurricane wind
flying through the nation.
I am swift like lightning as I
keep you up at night.
I am wise, just like my ancestors.
I am clever, just like the fox
would be if it was being chased.
I am as worthy as a diamond,but I am still just me.
Jawara Johnson49

Do Not Die
Dying is something
I do not want to happen to my family at all
because it is too sad when someone
in your family dies—
you see their death
and won’t forget it at all.
It is sad when people die
because you will not want to forget them.
Do not die.
Candace Craig

My Grandmother as a StarMy grandmother is a starshining bright at night.
My grandmother is a starbecause I want to see the sky
but it is so far. My grandmotheris a star because I love to see her
at night when I am home in my bed.
One of my grandparents is gone
but they still shine in my heart.
Candace Craig

Do Not Die
There was this boy, and people were looking at him because he did something to a family member.
He was coming from the store that was just up the street from his house, and they found him andshot him up. The mother ran out of the house as fast as she could. She saw her son, and all she saw
was red blood. She thought it was just a cut, so she took him in the house and put him on the sofa
because she thought he was asleep. The mother called the police and the ambulance. They opened
his stomach, but he was dead. They found bullets in him and it was so sad that day.
Chantal Campbell

50

I Have Enough Treasures from the Past
I have enough treasures from the past.
I could make a fortuneout of the bracelets, pictures, clothes, houses,
and much, much more.
The treasures that I have and will always keep
will follow me until I’m 18 and older.
I will sit down one day
and show my treasures to my kids
and they will show them to theirs
and they will show them to theirs.
So I have enough treasures from the past.
Deanna Vaughan

tolerance
My Hands Are a CityMy hands are a cityand in these times
the sun shines anyway,
even though the clouds are dark.

Winter Flower
This is rare.
I can’t believe it.
It just can’t be.
It’s like the sun is out
on a stormy night,or the barking of a dog
with a bone in its mouth.
Our minds can’t comprehend
the complexity of this.
It’s so thick you can’t breathe it,so lit with energy
it’s glowing and no one cankeep it to themselves.
Even in the winterthis spring flower is growing.
Tony Bush

The lines are streets that are jammed,
nobody has any electricity
and the ones with identity are helplessas the twist of a wrist,and an open hand.
A war, sadness, anda hurtful world,
an open handin front of everyone.
Tony Bush51

Who Is Lost?
When she comes and goesit’s like the wind coming and going.
Sometimes I wonder“Am I lost, or is she lost?”
When I think of her,
it warms up my body
like baked bread in the oven.
It brings back the old memoriesof when we used to be a family,
and again I wonder who is lost.

Block
She hates him,and someone else doesn’t like her.
Are you in the building?
The street moves all around the world.
That house grows every 20 minutes,
but the door is locked.

Ricardo Jackson

Shariah Gross

Pain Is Good Company
Pain is good company.
My grandmother’s passing was
no good news
but the pain
was good company
because I
know she’s in agood place.
I guess it wastime for her ice to melt,
but now the birds
have been set freeand now I know
she loves me.
Ceaira Hawkins

52l-r DeAngelo Thomas, Delonte Williams

The Birds Arrive
Birds, birds, where are all of you?
Can someone help me find them?
I’ve been searching for years
to find my poor little birdies.
It’s been so long now I’m in my thirties.
My mother caught them for me
when I was only three.
I wish they would come back to me
so I can go back to being happy.
No more sadness for me
because at least I know they are free.
I will try to be full of joy at every cost,
but in the back of my mind
I’ll always know I’m lost.
Rashanda Jackson

justice
From Darkness to Darkness
From darkness to darkness
you have lost your way.
You cannot say where to go
or where to bebecause you can’t see.
You’re hearing noises
and getting scared,
and there is no one
to tuck you into bed,
so stay in the light.
Danielle Harrison

53

I Thought
I thought that when my grandmother diedmy life was just gone,
but now I just have to face the factthat she’s gone. She was like my father, mother,
grandparents, aunt, uncle, big brother and sisterall put together. She always made sure I was ok,
and took me to fantastic places
to do fantastic things.
I was only 6 or 7 years old when Grandma died.
She was 43 when she passed,
and I was so blown away.
I felt like I’d rather die with herthan live without her,but years went past and I got older,
and realized she went to a better place.
I was still mad that she was dead,but I have to face she’s gone.
DeAndre Hobbs

New Year
I got kicked into the new year
so hard I started crying tears
weeping in the new year
When you look at me
I know all you see is fear
The storm is coming
when it’s nice and clear
I’ve seen a tornado
and it’s already here
Tron Pannel

Face, Facing Face, Facing
My cute brown face fades in the clouds,
hiding from all the bad things
happening in this world.
“No tears,” I say. It will all be ok,
all this killing, raping, murdering
will someday go away, and thenmy pretty face will come up out of the clouds.
Brittney Braxton

54

l-r Nathaniel Wilkes, Reginald Stewart

My Mother
My mother is like a flower that blossoms,
like a star that sparkles. My mother’s likethe moon that’s full at night,
like a book you read that’s exciting,like music that makes you dance,
she’s like a cloud that sheds its tears.
My mother is like the sunset
that makes everybody smile,
like a car that drives everywhere,
she’s like the water that’s in the ocean.
My mother is like a friend that everybody
can talk to about their problems,
she’s like candy that’s sweeter than gold,
she’s like pearls, so beautiful,like a feather that floats on the wind.
Tamethia Greene

identity
Above
From above, God has to come down
From above, souls are flying around
From above, I know God is straight chillin’
From above, God sees drug dealing
From above, God has to create stuff
From above, God made us.

55
Tron Pannel

A New Man Walking
I am a new man walking from jailafter 25 years in the joint.
The black hole is scary.
I hear voices in my head.
It’s so dark
I can’t see anything but the blue lightthat is under the door.
Takim Kenner

My Mother’s ClockMy mother’s clock
ticks like her heart.
It wakes her up anytime
until it’s time to go for good.
It keeps going and going
like the Energizer bunny,
but I’ll be sad when it starts
to slow down its tick.
It works pretty good at times
but the tick stopped
a little while ago.
Richard Lynch

My Lost Chain
I had a chain that sparkled
like a star in the air.
I loved that chain
and I cried every day.
That chain meant so much to me,
but I don’t worry about it
because at last the day will comewhen I’ll find it.
Anita White

Self-Portrait
A blackboard racing in time,
she slowly walks and falls
into a deep dark puddle of nothing
but tar,and she can’t seem to escape,but she isn’t giving up hope,
not just yet.
Verona Clifton56

Five Flights Up
As I walked up the monument steps, I kept thinking about my past. I couldn’t help it because strange
things happened that I didn’t understand. I couldn’t believe it when my mother died. She was in her best
condition, and went to the hospital every month.
“I can’t understand it” kept coming into my mind.
They had an autopsy on my mother’s body and found out she was poisoned. As I kept walking, I wasat the 50th flight of stairs, and thought maybe my mom’s best friend killed her.
Then another memory came up about my sister. She was the best at saying things to calm me down.
She was also my friend, and I loved her. She encouraged me not to drop out when I was about to. She
had good friends, so I couldn’t believe she was missing.
I kept walking up flight after flight of stairs, and as I got to the 95th, I lost the desire to keep walking.
Then I felt a funny feeling that when I got to the top my sister would be there. By now I was at the 100th
flight of stairs, five flights up, and thinking I might be reunited with my sister and mother.
I walked until I got to the top, and there they were. If I didn’t go up those last 5 flights, we might nothave been reunited.
Richard Lynch

tolerance
Chain

As I try to break these chains,
many faces hold me back.
As the bind gets stronger,
I’m struggling to get free.
As it holds me through the stormy night,
raining as hard as it can,I keep getting flashbacks of my past.
I can’t help but keep holding on.
The wind keeps blowing through my hair,and I can’t help but think
this might be the last thing I do,
the thought of dying.
I get scared and don’t know what God
will think about me, so I pray
into the stormy, windy, bright night
until I feel a burst of strength.
I use all my might,
but the chains still don’t break.
After crying, thinking about my family,
I say to myself, I will not give up,
so I try again until I break free of the chains,and I say to myself, “Thank you, God.”
Richard Lynch

57

The Living End
An apocalypse walks down Broadway
destroying everything in its path.
But destroying people is out of the question
for it turns us into its minions.
Once the town is destroyed,
it sucks the life force from our bodies
and when all the towns have been destroyed,
it shall suck the life force from the Earth.
I write this poem out of sorrow and pain
for my life is over,vein to vein.
Jawara Johnson

Thieves of Light
They steal the light of day,causing an endless night.
You know why they steal light?
They are shadow beasts,
and they despise light.
If they sense it in you,they will hunt you down
and steal your lightturning you old and gray,for your light is your soul,
your happinessand the rest of your emotions.
They must be stopped, but how?
Jawara Johnson

When the City Moon Looks Out on the Streets
When the moon looks out on the streets
it lets out a cry of hope and sadness.
It cries out of sadness because it is not free
like the humans.
It cries out of hope because it knows one day
it will be set free to roam the skies as it pleases.
But the city moon goes to sleep, hoping to be freed,hoping to be where it pleases.
Jawara Johnson

58l-r Elmer Toogood, Joseph Heath

DC Creative writing workshop
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hArtworks possible!

Your contributions help make

The D.C. Creative Writing Workshop is a non-profit organization dedicated to providing quality creative writing instruction to middle school students in economically underserved areas of Washington D.C. One hundred percent of
every donation goes directly toward our creative writing magnet program at Charles Hart Middle School, allowing ourstudents to work with professional writers-in-residence in the classroom, the Drama Club, the Writing Club, and the
Literary Magazine Club.
Show your support for hArtworks by mailing your tax-deductible contribution to:
The D.C. Creative Writing Workshop
601 Mississippi Ave. SE
Washington, D.C. 20032
If you have books or equipment to donate, call us at: (202)297-1957
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Or check us out on the web at www.dccww.org

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Jawara Johnson

This magazine was made possible
by funding from the National Endowment
for the Arts, the Commonweal Foundation,
the Arcana Foundation, the Junior League of
Washington, and The Morris and Gwendolyn
Cafritz FoundationhArtworks
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