Student Poems

I am from
I am from the eyes of my mother,
the tears of my sister,
and the words of my uncle.

I am from the broken thumb of my grandpa,
the burning clothes of my mother,
and the cuts on her hands.

I am from the light in the dark,
the flowers in Shanti Bhavan,
and the warmth of my aunties.

I am from the letters of the alphabet,
the colors of the rainbow,
and the days of the week.

I am from the hopes of my family,
my grandpa selling cucumbers,
and the dusty roads of Tamil Nadu.

- Puneeth Kumar, 9th Grade


Hope
A poor woman in the street
sitting and waiting,
mostly hoping,
someone would buy the deep fried fish
she has pinned her hope on.

A drunken man who made her his wife
with a promise of a better life
washed it away with his bottles of liquor.

Trucks go by
Buses honk
Vendors push their half empty carts
her eyes darts all over the passers-by
hoping
someone would buy the deep fried fish
she has pinned her hope on.

I stay at home
waiting for that knock that I have grown used to
she enters looking tired
I see the lights of the vehicles in her eyes
and the dust of the street on her hair
I see hope in her smile
but this time it's not pinned on the deep fried fish
It's pinned on me.

- Venu, 5th Grade

"I Am From"

I am Puneeth Kumar from
the eyes of my mother,
my grandfather selling cucumber,
the scoldings of my sister,
the corn in the backyard,
the oily smell of pooris.
I am from the injured thumb of my grandpa,
the burnt body of my father,
the cut on my mother’s hand.
I am from the smell of flowers in Shanti Bhavan,
the speeches of my school’s founder,
and the advice of my housemothers.
I am from the blood of my dead father,
the sight of the burning clothes of my mother,
and from the teachings of my teachers.

A Poem by: Puneeth Kumar
8th Grade

Him – A Poem About Dr. George

Him

He-the feeling of the undefined;
The heart that accepted all races’ breath
That ultimate soul truthfully determined
Upon us, the story of stubborn hasty death.
The sculptor who carved that laughter is
He—who cares to light the dying stars,
His—gentle expressions of love in kisses,
That mocks the hatred of man’s endless wars,
Opening the artless mind from its confines,
To heal the wound that didn’t.
Fueling integrity to the incoherent lines,
His passion for mankind which couldn’t.
Him—Dr. Abraham M. George, the eternity
Of his courage, to be ours for infinity.

By: Nivya
9th Grade

Nivya's Poetry

How sweet is the sweetest plum?
How loud is the loudest drum?
How long can someone wobble?
How fast can someone gobble?
How light is the lightest feather?
How tough is the toughest leather?
How far is the farthest star?
How thick is the thickest tar?
How busy is the busiest bee?
How large is the largest sea?
How white is the whitest dove?
How strong is the strongest love?

-Nivya, 7th grade

In addition to poetry Nivya's got some skills on the pitch...

Nice poem, nice header!

Shanti Bhavan: A Star In The Sky
It’s a star in the sky
Amongst the mist of clouds
Slowly rising to shine
It works all day long
Raining knowledge on the children
Lighting their lives to shine
Volunteers come from abroad
Teachers come to teach
Housemothers come to take care
Up, up into space we go
Getting ready to show the world
The talent we have within us
To make the world a better place for everyone.

-Keshavan, 7th grade