City Kids Coy Gibson Balboa High School As I look out my back door to get some fresh air I see void-like darkness sprinkled with salt shooting star airplane soaring though the blackness I wonder about shooting stars everything I see and hear around me trucks passing by cats fighting in the background gunshots and gunpowder A long van ride from the city forgetting where you’re going pine trees clean air fresh soil The only sound relaxing yet rough noise fresh water running past in the night So Our Words Can Join Our Wisdom Cynthia Dominguez Balboa High School We will write poems because we feel the warmth of the sun that lets us wander Our eyes become glistened We will write poems because we want to escape... Escape the world we live in escape televisions radios, phones, pagers Enter a world of trees, animals campfires We want to feel the warmth of our emotions We will write poems to release our souls receive new ones as if to be baptized We become new people not only in appearance but in feelings and thoughts We will become our perceptions of nature become closer to our surroundings What we think of the trees... we will become What we think of the animals... we will become We will write poems so our words can join our wisdom Our thoughts wander The Ground we walk speaks back to us We listen to it Write what we feel listen hear think A Hot and Poor World Glenda Portillo Downtown High School I am from celebrations el dia de los muertos and navidad where family and friends join each other in the colonia for dancing and laughter I am from pupusas and nuegados that old ladies make on dusty roads with contaminating smoke to provide food and little money for their families I am from gasiosas and orchata to drink on a sweaty-sunny day at the mercado where what you hear is children crying, ladies gossiping loud music and chikens clucking I am from vos to vichos to usted where your friends, kids and grown ups try to live thier lives and survive in a hot and poor world