For their 15th week of poetry O-School students explored epistolary poems, poems that can be written in the style of letters. Letter writing is no longer as popular as it was in the past, since we have new ways to communicate with others. Most students mentioned emails, texts, and phone calls to stay in touch with friends or family. We also discussed how people can use images and sign language as a way to communicate.
Together we read and discussed the poem “Dear Sky,” by Naomi Shihab Nye. In her poem Nye writes a letter addressed to the sky. So many styles of clouds/Drifting quietly/best of all, you always change/ the way I change getting older/Thank you for showing me how. Nye is showing gratitude to the sky, treating it as a friend, who is caring and teaches her to connect with the beauty of the world.
Inspired by Noami Shihab Nye, students wrote their own letter poems, addressing them to the loved ones, fictional characters, social media apps, and even pets!
Group A (Middle School)
Dear Serj Tankian:
Why is your voice so mesmerizing?
Why are your songs so good?
I love your emotions attached
to your songs, they’re amazing.
I really like your vocals.
Dear Tik Tok
Why do you exist?
You brainwash children and adults.
Because of you, Tik Tok,
my sister gets in trouble a lot
from doing your weird dances.
But there are some good sides to you.
But mostly bad,
because now children are learning
to post on Tik Tok.
Before learning their ABC’s
So, Tik Tok,
You need to change that
Immediately.
Signed,
E. Dubs
Dear Lily,
You are the funniest person
in this family.
I love you very much.
It may not seem like it,
but you are the most
responsible, goofy, and most
caring sister I know.
P.S. Your Sigma
Dear ???
Isn’t the sky beautiful tonight?
Just like you.
You’re breathtaking,
heart stopping,
showstopping
I love you but,
You don’t.
From, a lovesick romantic
Dear Vanessa,
When are you going you going to give me my money?
Because, it’s been very, very, very, very, very, very,
very, very, very long time since you’ve owed me money.
So, I’ve been thinking, that you give me some pocket
Change, $50 or more, your house, your car, your phone,
your wallet and passport, debit card, credit card, and
maybe the wig on your head.
I need to have all of it by April 24, or I will ummmmm. . . .
find your house, yeah, leak it to the internet, your address,
school name, your phone #.
P.S. You’re not cool, I’m better
Dear Harrord Jelly Belly Trusty,
Brown with gray fur, also 21.
We love you.
Lazy, doesn’t chase mice.
Eats any cheese, doesn’t like peanut butter.
Comes up to ladies, they say Awww…
You are a good dog.
Group B (Middle School)
Dear Cloud,
Where are you going?
You are always changing
shape,
but remain the same.
Sometimes you cover the
sky,
but sometimes you appear in
wisps,
or mountains resting atop the
atmosphere,
as if it were a floor.
I have noticed that all clouds,
sit on a certain part
of the sky,
and are flat on the bottom.
But how would I send this to you?
I could just blow this away,
throw it into the wind,
in hopes that you’ll catch it,
and if you cry,
or become cold hearted,
I will be there for you.
-Your loving
Speck of dust
Dear Duolingo,
Teaching me Spanish has made me
successful and confident.
Soon, I would be ready for travel,
conversations with Spanish professionals,
and reading translated paragraphs.
If I am looking to learn other languages,
I will use you again.
Mom
Dear mom, you rock my world.
I appreciate you because,
you support me for who I am
and who I want to be.
Your smile is contagious,
it can light up a whole city.
I love you, even though
we fight sometimes.
When you used to tuck me
into bed and said good night.
P.S from love to work,
I’ll be lurking in your bedroom
shadows at 2am.
I love you
—naur-naur
Dear Logger
You stole the world from me.
You raised your head, and the mask smiled out.
You chopped my own friends with glee.
I couldn’t scream.
I couldn’t shout.
You made my aunt Kathleen into paper.
Yet she got put into a wasteful shredder.
Our family got torn apart.
(wasted, unused)
Yet for a cause that needs a whole bin
for wasted parts.
We are the trees,
Chopped down, hunted.
We even have geese that roost in our leaves.
We had a home that belong to them too.
And now their nests are lost to your greed.
From, The Trees,
The Fir-o-Pine Tree Family
P.S. we wrote this on our own skin.
