Below, in no particular order, is a sample of poetry and other student work from 2011-2012 Frog Hollow classes.
Group Sound Map of Tolt MacDonald Park in the Rain, Detail
…..crunch, rustle rustle, plip plip plip, splash, whine, crash bang, “it’s cold,” “super cold,” groan, caw caw, bom, pit pat pit pat, crunch, clang, crunch, crunch, rocks hitting boots, pit pat, arrooo, hmmrmm, hmmm, scrape, pitter-patter, gurgle glug, vroom…….
Everything Ends with TSION
An exercise in officialese (and spelling) by the Seattle Class.
The Function of conjunction junction is fusion of vacation confusion. The monkey nation of Carnation always goes on vacation and pesters the flight attendants. They flition the plane. Don’t get distracted by your distraction. Keep working on your potion in your ocean. I rub lotion on my television when I am using my vision in the nation of Soaption. Social confusion from the excursion for the mission in examination. Congratulation, Monkey Nation, for your transformation of conservation and navigation of the constellation. Your intuition of constipation and passion for fashion and television bring anticipation into motion of elevation. The variation of elation can be an institution of the exclamation point. The consolation of the population is going up.
April (after Edna St. Vincent Millay)
April, why does it take so long amount of time for you to get to the present time so the book can get out so i can go listen to it in my closet bedroom and put in my black radio and listen all day but April to May goes so fast like why can’t they change or switch?
Untitled (after Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s Kubla Khan)
The trees floated in the wind like clouds. The poofiness of them and the pink fragrance, the velvet blue petals of the pineapple tree was magnificent. It bounced off the sun like a ball. It flung back at me but I dodged it. I tried to weave my thoughts back together but they crumbled like bread. Then the trees saved my life. They wrapped around me and took me into their world. I could not stop them. I did not try to.
Omphalotus and the Parrot Mushroom
“I am orange like the setting sun!”
“But who are you to surpass my green glowing goo from a witch’s cauldron?”
“My bioluminescent lamp could surpass anyone.”
“My green leaves best all!”
“My orange leaves have come the latest of fall!”
“But we are both equal in glowing and growing and knowing, so I guess we could live together.”
If I could fly I would fly all the way to Paris and bring back two croissants for all of my friends and three bottles of warm soy milk for everyone in my family.
Dear Mr. Obama,
My name is Jade. I am eleven years old and I live in Seattle, WA. I am concerned about the proposed Enbridge pipeline through the Great Bear Rainforest in British Columbia. The oil they will be mining is the dirtiest oil that we know of; the Tar Sands oil. In mining the tar sands, Enbridge would be making 1.8 billion liters of wastewater a day. The pipeline would cross over 700 streams and watersheds, causing erosion. The oil would be loaded onto super tankers and navigated at 15 knots between sandbars and reefs where there are frequently hurricane speed winds. A few years ago, a passenger ferry named Queen of the North sank off that coast. She is still leaking oil and the tankers would be three times the size and carrying a half billion gallons of oil. The oil would be shipped off to Asian markets; every one would buy cars and need the oil. Enbridge would not be able to stop.
Many of the First Nations people who live at the edge of the rain forest are hunters and fishers. With the traffic of 200 tankers a year, they would be waiting for when one sank, ruining their way of life. The spilled oil would also effect the whales, and the fish, and the water the land animals- like the Spirit Bear and gray wolves- depend on, drawing them all to extinction.
I live off the Puget Sound. I share the same water as the rain forest. The oil would affect ME. It would reach and harm the creatures even in the sound. You can’t ignore this. We as a planet cannot let something like this happen. This is where we live, where we belong. We have to take care of this earth.
I am interested in knowing what actions are being taken for this proposal.
You can say things once before they stick. Make each word loving.
A rose dies and comes back again. You have one life. Make sure you are loved.
A bumpy egg on the outside. A mouse body with a nose. Creamy alien food on the inside. A skull shape it resembles. A head from an alien.
The sun shines. The rain falls. Buds are everywhere. Flowers are popping out everywhere.
Hummingbird, Hummingbird oh jewel in the sky Why hide in the forest invisible to human eye? Hummingbird Hummingbird oh work of art Why is there something that splits you and me apart? Hummingbird hummingbird you’re strong and tough But why is coming out really so rough? Why hide in the forest and drink nectar all day when you can come out way beyond they? Well fine I’ll leave you in the forest to be. But if you want you can come out and play WITH ME.
My boot is as black as the night of darkness. My pack is as heavy as a back of rocks of weight. My jacket is as thin as a sheet of black water. I grab them all and head into the night. The road is as bumpy as a crowd of people.
A Poem Using French
The girl was furieux. She ran out of her house. It was raining. She was cold. Wish, wish, went the rain. She said Je am furieux. And she dispariatre.
Some Things (after Walt Whitman)
Some things are growing; some are not. Many people are hurt; many are not. Many people are happy, though some are not. I am writing — so is the world. Someone is losing a tooth, tasting the blood slowly trickling out of the gap in their mouth. Someone is singing a slow, sad song, slowly devastating the world. I am reading, my fingers gripping the book as the evil one starts to rise. Slowly the mother duck rounds up her baby ducks making sure to count before moving on.
My Other World
In my other world, my unicorns are jumping, birds are flying, animals are wandering, fish are swimming, and everything is happy in my other world. Everything is so pretty: the flowers, the fountains, the forests, the jungles, and that’s not all. The bushes, the trees with fruits, my castle, my ponds, my seas, my beaches, the wind, the breeze, never lets me down.
The Perfect House
Someone gave me a door of dreams. My mom gave me a roof of blood. My dad gave me a floor of sponge. I found a kitchen of candy. My brother gave me a dining room of memories. My sister gave me a living room of fun. Bob gave me furniture made of bones. Dr. Phil gave me burning lamps. Keaton gave me a bright duck. A hobo gave me a bed of magic, the magic to put you to sleep. A perfect house with dreams, blood, sponge, memories, fun, bones, lamps, ducks, and magic, and the best of all Dr. Phil. Not. I was a free house. Then I found a rainbow wall.
Untitled (After Walt Whitman)
A flower opening and coming out of a stump. A clock striking twelve too early. A building on fire and exploding. A window smashing open. A car crashing into a semi. A person dying because of illness. A day coming and on the other side of the world it is night. A chair falling backwards because someone pushed it over. A string breaking on a guitar.
Written While Listening to Tchaikovsky
Thunder goes outside, whirling colors and then there is a unicorn with wings, and we fly off into the sunset into the land where the sun never sets. Deer come out to greet us and there is a rainbow then suddenly millions of horses come out of the woods and my lost and wild race horse flame and off we ride faster than ever! Flame so wild nobody but me can go near her. And then it is a race and it’s suddenly in slow motion and we win but then we fly off a cliff and Flame grows wings! And all my dreams come true and I’m in the Cavalia.
1. Soldiers, some black, most white
2. A peculiarly-shaped zebra with three feet.
3. Buttons that raise hammers that smack stretched strings.
4. Can play a hairy woman.*
5. It has scales.
6. You will find it louder with the back opened up.
7. I never said it is always loud.
8. It can come grand or electric.
The Bad Blizzard (After Walt Whitman)
The dog is barking. The geese are flying. The roses are blooming. Mae is humming. Natalie is riding in our play jeep. It is foggy outside and looks like a blizzard that will not go away. People are jumping over a stream that is flowing fast. Mommy is cooking. Daddy is thinking. Squinchy is walking. It is pretty outside. Birds are flapping. People are streaming so loudly you can barely hear them. A horse is nickering about not getting his daily apple in time. The ducks are unhappy and they are quacking about the wolf that is bothering them.