April is National Poetry Month. We’ve invited readers from across the Central Coast to share their best original poems dealing with self-identity and diversity.
Here is a sampling of the poems. We will be posting new poems at sanluisobispo.com/entertainment/books throughout the month.
By Jackson Burnett, 6, Morro Bay
My hair is
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By Adan Pizano, 14, Oceano
I am from soccer ball from Nike from Adidas.
I am from Oceano, California.
It smells good, refreshing, and looks great.
I am from nature, and playing outside.
I am from barbequing on 4th of July,
and Christmas dinners.
From believing in each other,
And helping one another.
I am from Mexico, Michoacan, chicken and tacos.
From crossing around in California,
playing soccer tournaments around
California and playing outside.
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By Camden Lunceford, 13, San Luis Obispo
Dedicated to Jeffrey Smock and in memoriam to Steven Lunceford
Gliding gracefully through the grey dusk
Checking their instruments with precision
Rising suddenly into view
Colliding with the hill
Then … A blazing comet in the sky
Heaving himself free from the crushing weight of the plane.
The face twisted with agony
Urging the man to find Help.
Dragging his broken body
For countless hours through the vast emptiness
Every mile paid with blood, sweat and pain.
A single light in the distance and Help is found.
Both cold and lifeless
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“Poem #6: An Elegy for a Milkman”
By Zachary Rice, 13, San Luis Obispo
I sit on a weathered bench, allowing the cold to seep into me. The wind chills the air that I breathe as I sit with my head in my hands and remember you.
My father picked up his phone and answered with a weary, “Hello?” I saw his face go pale, watched the solitary tear roll down his cheek. He pulled into a lonely parking lot and told us the news. You were gone. It was as swift as the snuffing of a candle, and it caught me off guard. I felt as though the car was shrinking, becoming smaller and more oppressive with each breath. I pushed my way out and stood in the biting cold, thinking of the beloved crossing guard who would never hold his faded red stop sign. The faithful milkman who would not, could not deliver the things that had been ordered. And I will never hear your bad jokes, taste delicious meatballs, see your wrinkled face ever again. I miss you Grandpa.
So I sit on a weathered bench, allowing the frigid cold to seep into my bones. And as the wind chills the air that I breathe, as I sit with my head in my hands, I remember you, and smile.
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By CJ Macias, 13, Grover Beach
I am from Jersey and from cleats also from love.
I am from Grover Beach.
I am from babyback ribs.
I am from the extra pancake.
I am from white roses.
I am from summertime, lake time.
I am from a teamworking family.
I am from a story that had legends.
I am from a story about future legends.
I am from a big tribe.
I am from pasta.
I am from cornbread.
I am from a big family with loving people.
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By Andre Quintanar, 13, Oceano
I am from Jordan basketball brand
From Pro Club brand
From Nike brand
I am from California
I am from the poppy
And the skill to play basketball
From Go outside
And Practice makes perfect
I am from Nipomo
Tacos and burritos
I am from California and I like to play basketball
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