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Laural Dean

of

Omaha, NE, US

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Memories

by

Laural Dean

Memories like a wind blowing strong
Never dying, never wrong
Memories are life.

When you laugh,
cry,
jump with joy

Those are all memories

smile,
love,
hate

Those are all memories

Memories live on and on
Never short, always long
Memories are life.


Theme For English 9

by

Laural Dean

In the poetic tradition of Langston Hughes

The instructor said,

Go home and write
A page tonight.
And let that page come out of you-
Then, it will be true.

I wonder if it is that simple?
I am fourteen, caucasion, born in Omaha, Nebraska.
I go to school there, first Lewis and Clark, now here
to this high school on the street above Holy Cross.
I am one of many caucasion students in my class.
The street down from Holy Cross leads to Saddle Creek,
turn right, onto Saddle Creek, then I turn left onto Leavenworth,
Fiftieth Street, Fiftieth Avenue and I come to my street
Turn right, go to my house, and write this page:

It's not easy to know what is true for you or me
at fourteen, my age. But, I guess I'm what
I feel and see and hear, Omaha, I hear you
hear you, hear me-we two-you, me, talk on this page.

(I hear Council Bluffs, too) Me-who?
Well, I like to eat, sleep, dance and talk on the phone.
I like to babysit, read, swim and understand life.
I like a shirt for a Christmas present,
or c.d.'s-Alanis, alternative or Archees.
I guess being fourteen doesn't make me not like
the same things other folks like who are a different age.
So will my page also be fourteen that I write?
Being me, it will be
a part of you, teacher.
You are older-
yet a part of me, as I am a part of you.

That's American.
Sometimes perhaps you don't want to be a part of me.
Nor do I often want to be a part of you.
Be we are, that's true!
As I learn from you,
I guess you learn from me-
although you're older-more mature-
and somewhat more free.

This is my page for English 9.