We explored the powerful device of in Phil Kaye’s poem Repetition of the same name. Some poems in our workshop are ‘after’ Kaye’s work.
Lesson Note: Writer/Performer Anna Deavere Smith who interviews people and then writes those interviews down verbatim like poetry, insists that it is in our utterances between words and our repetition of them that finds us really ‘talking.’
Ms. Taylor, 8th Grade
1st Period
Untitled
Marcus L.
The varied sounds of the piano
Ding, Ding, Ding, Ding, Ding.
Sitting before the long row of keys.
white, black, white, black, white, black, white black, white
white, black, white, black, white, black, white, black, white
Untitled
Paulina W.
I remember the long days and nights at the park.
The swings always swaying back and forth.
Every bad thought slips my mind.
The swings always swaying back and forth.
Escaping from everything.
running, playing, swinging
enjoying it all.
Not ever would it stop being amusing.
The swings always swaying back and forth.
Until the loud men went and took that away.
No more escaping from everything by swinging.
No more running, playing, swinging, enjoying it all.
Family
Natalia B.
I remember falling off of my tricycle when I was there.
My brother ran and helped me up.
He has always picked me up whenever I fall down.
Support, support, support, support.
Waiting to come around when I need it most.
Parents coming home late at night from work for my
Support, support, support, support.
Putting effort into letting me live my best life.
I sit at my desk, waiting for dinner.
Studying, studying, studying, studying.
To make my family proud for all the support.
Ms. Taylor, 8th Grade
2nd Period
Secrets
Hannah G.
I remember
when I was little
I remember
I remember.
No one told me secrets
No one told me anything.
I can’t keep them
I lose them
I lose them in the
white, swirling, cruel, snow
like buried gems,
laden with a curse.
I lose them in my pocket,
loose change that topple,
out of a hole in one’s pocket.
I lose them in cans of soda,
Secrets muttered casually
to people who can’t keep them.
I can’t keep them
I lose them.
I lose them over sandwiches
secrets sliced and sliced
over and over and over
again and again and again
a song stuck on repeat.
I lose them over poeple
with smiles like skeletons.
I lose them in the thin wires
that connect cell pones
ear and ears and ears and
mouths whispering secrets
piled on secrets.
I remember
when I was little.
I remember,
I remember
No one told me secrets.
No one told me anything.
I can’t keep them.
I can’t I can’t I can’t
I lose them.
Mother Always Told Me
Joseph G.
Mother told me that I’m negative
She always used to
Pour a glass of wine before she slept, filled halfway.
She said that it was half full but all i saw was the emptiness.
It was empty, empty, empty, and you guess it, empty.
Mother always told me that I’m negative
She always used to
Blast the radio to the highest volume when her favorite song played
She said the song never gets old, but hwen you listen to the same lyrics
The words that used to be filled with meaning is now filled with emptiness.
It was empty, empty, empty and , you guessed it, empty.
Just like every ‘I love you,’ Every ‘Good Job’ EVERY “I’M PROUD OF YOU’
it was empty.
Repetition
Laila C.
Growing up my Mom always said
don’t sweat the small stuff.
I try not to sweat the small stuff.
It will be okay
It will be okay
It will be okay
It will be okay
It will be okay
It will be okay
It will be okay
I try not to sweat the small stuff.
Not everything is important.
When will you ever need to know parabalas?
When will you ever need to know systems of equations?
When will you ever need to know absolute value?
Not everything is important.
On growing up, my mom always said
dont sweat the small stuff.
I try not to sweat the small stuff.
Untitlted
Arturo A.
I remember 8 years ago begging for some fun
Fun, fun, fun, fun
Fun which others enjoyed, other likes, and stuff.
No I look back remmbering why I was like that
What did I consider fun if it was just emptiness?
No I look back into the grown eyes of jealousy
and find emptiness.
Emptiness, emptiness, emptiness.
Hanging for something that’s unknown & known.
Happiness
Sorry, but there is nothing here.
Emptiness, badness and bad
self-esteem. Partners of me.
Happiness. Happinesss. Happiness.
Both fake but filled with something?
Baseball
Frank G.
When I was younger it was always Baseball.
Baseball, baseball, baseball to me this was great.
As I got older, it became clear taht baseball grades
baseball, grades this was ok though for now.
As I mature to where I am now, it was
turned to Grades Grades baseball grades grades
baseball. I really wish I could go back
to 10 years odl and have life be easy baseball
baseball baseball baseball baseball
this is all I want.
Ms. Taylor, 8th Grade
3rd Period
Light
Angela M.
Have you ever noticed the light?
Everthing that has happened in your life.
Everyone focuses on the dark.
What happened to the light?
The light of the friends you’ve met
the light fo the memories you’ve made
The light of the laughter
But no
No one focuses on that
No one takes the time to remember the light
But they remember the dark.
The dark of the arguments with family
The dark of the number of tears you’ve shed
The dark of the madness
Once you discover the light
At the end of that dark, dark tunnel
your eyes will be open.
Time’s End
Anna G.
Perfect. Everhing was Perfect.
Sunny days with the sun.
the bright, bright, bright sun.
We had popsicles as we sat on the porch.
Drip, Drip, Drip
The popsicles started to melt
as time began to fade.
The moon brings the earth back to life
even though everything was dark, dark, dark
that want there before.
Talking becomes hard,
you don’t know what to say.
as time began to fade.
Everything is hard now.
You dont know what to do
Everyone has left now,
I dont’ know what to do.
Time begins to fade.
I Don’t Understand
Kayla T.
I don’t understand
your ability to walk away from people
and their love
I don’t understand
how you can focus on the one time
the one time you were hurt
what about all the times you
just got up and walked away
Don’t you understand you’re not
the only one bleeding on the inside.
I don’t understand
how you can choose to disregard
my thoughts my words my hurt
I don’t understand
how you drown my screams
with bigger words more meaningful
words. Words that leave scars
But you claim I’m doing the damage.
I’m the one throwing the punches.
But by saying these thngs all
you’re doing is hitting me harder
I don’t understand
where the idea that I’m not there
came from when I stood by
your side as you walked away
countless times.
You let me think I was wrong
But as soon as you needed me
you came running back
And I was just waiting.
I knew you’d come back
and cry and seem hurt
because I’m not the type
to walk away if you need
me no matter how many
of my scars come from your
knife
I don’t understand
how you flip between needing
me and disregarding me
I don’t understand
how one person can inflict so much
pain and love at the same time.
I guess that’s why I’m always
waiting
Because of all the amazing things
you made me feel
the love the joy the beauty
you’re not bad and you
never were
so why walk away
why cause so much pain
Do you even realize how you
make me feel sometimes.
I don’t understand
And i don’t think I ever will.
Ms. Taylor, 8th Grade
6th Period
Shakespearean Sonnet with Rhyme and Repetition
Harper W.
refrigerator refrigerator
refrigerator refrigerator
refrigerator refrigerator
refrigerator refrigerator
refrigerator refrigerator
refrigerator refrigerator
refrigerator refrigerator
refrigerator refrigerator
refrigerator refrigerator
refrigerator refrigerator
refrigerator refrigerator
refrigerator refrigerator
refrigerator refrigerator
refrigerator refrigerator
Untitled
Denisese O.
Brought into this world
just form two love birds.
Brought into this world
where there is rights and wrongs.
Where finding education is right
and giving up is wrong.
Brought into this world.
where you are surrounded by love.
Untitled
Eliza T.
When I was little
I wanted to do everything
play outside and over sleep.
Everything needs to be
perfect, perfect, perfect
A + A + A +
Now that I am older
I just want things to be right
and I want more sleep.
Everything needs to be
perfect, perfect, perfect
A + A + A +
Ms. Taylor, 8th Grade
7th Period
Untitled
Owen D.
My wall was covered in memories
Full of pictures and photos
Random events that had happened to me through the years
But time passes and the walls
Full of pictures and photos
replaced and taken down.
But time passes, and passes, and passes and
Then new memories happen
and then those walls are again
Full of pictures and photos.
Untitled
Sophie S.
I come from Maplewood
The park and 606
My home, my family, my sister
my mom, my dad my bed,
baby Sophi.
The Sellers so close
Osterman’s too . Until they weren’t
A village of co parenting.
Dinner 5 nights a week
sometimes more
Now its–less. But still there.
The Sellers so close.
Mu sister always pushing
No hugs, not kisses, no love
‘It’s there, ‘ they say,
my parents.
Its there, I promise
She loves you.
She keeps it beneath the surface.
She’ll never admit it.
I love you.
She’ll never say.
My mom, my dad
They want me close
forever their little girl.
A warm embrace good night.
‘Sleep sweet, I love you.’
‘Sleep tight, beautiful I
love you.’
Mommy’s girl. Daddy’s girl.
Me and them.
Forever their little girl.
A drive to Michigan.
To Mema and Pop Pop’s
To temple to Mema Maureen’s
A drive home
To home.
So many moments in the car.
On a drive to Michigan
forever the little girl.
I love you
Good night.
Every night I speak these words.
Every night I hear these words.
Never form the same person as I
said them to
Always waiting for a response
The golden response.
The cozy bed.
All tucked and nice
Cozy bed
I snuggled with Baby Sophi
with hippo, with mooney, with carrot, with cabbage
A night’s sleep with all my fiends.
I come from Maplewood
The park and 606
My home, my family, my sister
my mom, my dad, my bed my
baby Sophi.
Untitled
Sheila C.
Home to School to Home to School to Home to School
My sister and I everyday.
Kind of boring
There is no change, but everything is on a cycle
Home to school to home to school to home
Sometimes it’s different
We go on vacation or out to dinner or maybe go out.
Home to School to Home to School to Home
My sister and I everyday
kind of boring
There si no change but everything si on a cycle
Home to School to Home to School to Home
Sometimes it’s different
We go on vacation or out to dinner or maybe out
I like it this way, the same.
Why Repetition?
Amelia W.
I don’t want to go to school,
school, school, school, school, school
I don’t want to do my homework
homework, homework, homework, homework,
I want to go home
home, home, home, home, home, home
