Winning poems from the Jackson Heights Poetry Festival
Friday, May 9th 2008, 5:44 PM
The two poems below were chosen from more than 100 entries from Queens middle- and high school students, and will be performed by their authors at the Jackson Heights Poetry Festival next Saturday.
Jekyll & Hyde
by Royah Nunez
Martin Luther High School
What am I really on the inside. Am I the player or will I sit on the sidelines. What are my guidelines, the rules and regulations. Will I stay calm, or am I the type for debatin’? Stand my ground or go with the wind. Never bat an eye or will I flinch and cringe. Commit a sin with an evil grin or study the Bible turn around with a spin? Maybe wear flats high heels get the mature feel…or cop the jordans. Do I steal…or do I purchase? Bold or hide behind the curtains? Do I feel great, or am I really hurtin’ am I lurkin’? Or do I walk like I own the town? Head to the sky or shame face walk with my head down? Act like a clown or the business type? Solid colors or polka dots with pin stripes? Cellphone addict or go payphone manic? Flat screen TV or am I seeing static? Do I–travel to the city or work at the corner store? Am I the soft type or am I just hardcore? Do I appreciate what I have or do I ask for just one more? Am I with the peace group or do I say on with the war? Pent house status or apartment building right on the first floor? What am I really … on the inside? Two different people …like Jekyll and Hyde.
I Am From
by Robert John Hansen
JHS 189Q
I am from the jerk chicken in my fridge,
From my Nike Air Force 1‘s
and from my Craig Jordan jeans.
I am from the ghetto,
The feeling of depression
I am from the mud beneath my shoes,
I am from the tree that stands alone
in a concrete jungle.
I am from anger and shyness
From the quiet old man
and to the raging old lady.
I am from biting my nails
and chewing my lips
And from an argument over nothing.
I am from lies and betrayal
And “Show me your friends and I’ll tell you who you are”
from Grandpa’s chapped lips.
I am from Bob Marley‘s reggae music.
I am from Jamaica, Queens and Chinese, Cuban and Jamaican blood.
Rum cake and curry chicken.
From late night robberies
Where they climb through your window just for a buck.
Where we don’t smile.
Living under my bed with dark souls that don’t come out,
Blood from my family’s past on my white walls,
And my heart ripped from my chest
By the one I love.