Writers in the Schools (WITS)

 

Gail Wheeler’s Language Arts Class

Crossroads

WITS BA Creative Writing Student:

Joe Vastano

 

 

 

Drugs

by Jovana Espariza

 

Doing as you want them to. 

Making you go on cloud nine.

loving every moment you have as you’re on it.

Not really caring about anything but

how good you feel. 

Becoming your best friend.

Taking over you

 

Don’t let it. 

 

Hurting loved ones for your drug. 

Don’t let word get around. 

It’ll break hearts. 

Not having any motivation to do anything.

Dropping grades

Doing things you’ll probably

regret one day.

 

Not good at all.

 

 

Shelby Lee

by Pat Sullivan

 

I’m falling away

and wishing you were here

I’m falling astray

wishing you were near

In my time of darkness

I look to you for light

In my time of madness

you help me regain my sight.

 

You are so loving and caring to me

your love is so strong

that you make the blind see.

And the way you talk

it’s so beautiful

that you could make the paralyzed walk

 

I want you to see

how beautiful you are

and how much you mean to me

I will always and forever

love you,

my Beautiful Shelby Lee.

 

 

Initiation

by Jose Juarez

 

I remember how I first

joined the gang.  I

was nine years old.

I joined because of my homies

and cuz

my cousins

were in it, too. 

 

I joined East Side cuz

I started to hang with

East Siders when I was young.

I had

to do stuff to join.  I

had to fight people

and get suspended.

 

 I got ranked in

at thirteen.  I fought

thirteen people

at the same time.  I

got punched and kicked

in the face and it

felt like they were hitting

me with rocks

 

I was bleeding

and my nose was broken.

My ribs hurt like a bitch

and I could hardly walk.

When they

were done, they

gave me my first joint

 

I smoked it and ever since

I been smoking it.

 

Then I started to go to jail

for the gang

and now it feels like a bad dream.

Wanting to wake up

but I can’t

 

Dear Father

by Rito Prieto

 

Why do you do the things you do? 

Smoke crack and act a foo’.

if she didn’t make good food

you got mad hit her

then slapped my brother, too. 

 

Why father?  Why? 

 

Why did you leave me when I was two?

Tell my mom you would pick me up,

and leave me waiting for you.

 

Why did you wanna come back

into my life

if you only wanted to see me twice? 

Smoke weed with me,

then let me spend the night. 

 

Wake up in the morning and see you

lit up like a light,

high as a kite.

Not knowing what happened

or how you got home last night.

 

Now you’re gone and  I’m

living without you.  I’m through

with all the bullshit.

I’m done with you.

 

I’m through

telling you the things

I’m goin’ to do.

I ain’t gonna be like you.

I’m gonna finish skoo’.

Screw weed and screw brew.

 

One day I will be

as old as you

looking at my children, knowing

I didn’t screw up like you.

 

 

Police Report

by Josh Olivas

 

It was my mom’s boyfriend’s birthday

and we were at his house. 

They were all drunk. 

Her boyfriend (his name is Juan)

was really drunk and started talking shit

to my mom.

 

He pushed her and she fell backwards,

over a trash can. 

I got scared and I froze,

but once I saw him get in her face, I

picked up a big screwdriver

and started hitting him in the head. 

I hit him like six times, then

the screwdriver slipped out of my hands

 

so then I kicked him

in his side and he fell.

 

My mom got up.

When she turned around,

she saw Juan had me against the wall. 

She picked up a bottle and broke

 it over his head. 

 

He turned around and attacked her.

 

She picked up a sledge hammer and

hit him on the side of the leg, then

approached her like he was going

to hit her and

I got even more scared

 

so I ran and punched him right on

the side of his nose and under his eye,

then my mom got her stuff and

said, “Let’s go!”

 

As soon as we were about to leave, we

walked outside and the police were

already at the door watching us

 

 so my mom went to jail for the night. 

 

I Am From…

by Ana Karen Mendoza

 

I am from the 5.0.5., aka Las Cruces

to J. Town.

I am from my clika to my family.

I am from the hood to the barrio.

I am from homegirls and homeboys to

friends and enemies.

I am from li’l wannabe gangstas to true

O.G.s.

I am from hook-ups and break-ups.

I am from besos y chupetones to chingasos

y moretones.

I am from fuck you to love you.

I am from my jefas love to my jefes

hate.

I am from my chante to la calle.

I am from smoking weed to drinking buzz.

I am from gunz and knives to my li’l

carnal and carnala.

I am from the praying hands to la

virgin de Guadalupe.

I am from learning respect to knowing

disrespect.

I am from blood to muerte and from

laughs to tears.

 

 

 

 

 

 

This project is made possible in part by New Mexico Arts, a division of the Department of Cultural Affairs, and the National Endowmentfor the Arts.