1. POEM OF THE DAY 6 th Grade Language Arts

2. Poem #1: Ankylosaurus by Jack Prelutsky Clankity Clankity Clankity Clank! Ankylosaurus was built like a tank, it’s hide was a fortress as sturdy as steel, it tended to be an inedible meal. It was armored in front, it was armored behind, there wasn’t a thing on its minuscule mind, it waddled about on its four stubby legs, nibbling on plants with a mouthful of pegs. Ankylosaurus was best left alone, it’s tail was a cudgel of gristle and bone, Clankity Clankity Clankity Clank! Ankylosaurus was built like a tank,

3. Ankylosaurus

4. P OEM #2: A BUELITO W HO BY S ANDRA C ISNEROS Abuelito who throws coins like rain and asks who loves him who is dough and feathers who is a watch and glass of water whose hair is made of fur is too sad to come downstairs today who tells me in Spanish you are my diamond who tells me in English you are my sky whose little eyes are string can't come out to play sleeps in his little room all night and day who used to laugh and like the letter k is sick is a doorknob tied to a sour stick is tired shut the door doesn't live here anymore is hiding underneath the bed who talks to me inside my head is blankets and spoons and big brown shoes who snores up and down up and down up and down again is the rain on the room that falls like coins asking who loves him who loves him who?

5. P OEM #3: C YNTHIA IN THE S NOW BY G WENDOLYN B ROOKS It SUSHES. It hushes The loudness in the road. It flitter-twitters, And laughs away from me. It laughs a lovely whiteness, And whitely whirs away. To be Some otherwhere, Still white as milk or shirts. So beautiful it hurts.

6. P OEM #4: S TOPPING B Y W OODS ON A S NOWY E VENING B Y R OBERT F ROST Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year. He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound's the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake. The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.

7. P OEM #5—D REAMS BY L ANGSTON H UGHES Hold fast to dreams For when dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams For when dreams go Life is a barren field Frozen with snow.

8. P OEM #6: A UDITION BY H OPE A NITA S MITH Sunday mornings at our house are full of music. Grandmomma is singing. She says she’s auditioning for the heavenly choir. The music of her voice gets us up and dressed. gets us fed and out the door. Grandmomma is singing. Her voice as rich as cream, sure as tomorrow. I close my eyes and try not to let her see how her song moves me. Let her keep practicing. She is music, And I never want her song to end.

9. I stopped to pick up the bagel rolling away in the wind, annoyed with myself for having dropped it as if it were a portent. Faster and faster it rolled, with me running after it bent low, gritting my teeth, and I found myself doubled over and rolling down the street head over heels, one complete somersault after another like a bagel and strangely happy with myself. P OEM #7: T HE BAGEL B Y D AVID I GNATOW

10. P OEM #8: T HE C HALLENGER B Y S ARAH M OORE In the year of 1986 The Challenger went up into space. On board were astronauts and a teacher Trying to find an unexplored place. The audience roared and were filled with hope. And finally the moment was here. The fans watched in awe... While it blew up, and they were full of fear The teacher and six astronauts In a moment...They were gone. But they are up in space, At home, where they belong.

11. P OEM #9: P EOPLE E QUAL BY J AMES B ERRY Some people shoot up tall. some hardly leave the ground at all. yet-people equal. Equal One voice is a sweet mango. Another is a nonsugar tomato. yet-people equal. Equal Some people rush to the front. Others hang back, feeling they can’t. yet-people equal. Equal Hammer some people, you meet a wall. Blow hard on others, they fall. yet-people equal. Equal One person will aim at a star. For another, a hilltop is too far. yet-people equal. Equal Some people get on with their show. Others never get on the go. yet-people equal. Equal

12. P OEM #10: A D REAM WITHIN A D REAM B Y E DGAR A LLAN P OE Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow- You are not wrong, who deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem Is but a dream within a dream. I stand amid the roar Of a surf-tormented shore, And I hold within my hand Grains of the golden sand- How few! yet how they creep Through my fingers to the deep, While I weep- while I weep! O God! can I not grasp Them with a tighter clasp? O God! can I not save One from the pitiless wave? Is all that we see or seem But a dream within a dream?

13. P OEM #11: INDIAN B Y S TEPHEN V INCENT B ENET I don't know who this Indian is, A bow within his hand, But he is hiding by a tree And watching white men land, They may be gods - - they may be fiends - - They certainly look rum. He wonders who on earth they are And why on earth they've come. He knows his streams are full of fish, His forests full of deer, And his tribe is the mighty tribe That all the others fear. And, when the French or English land, The Spanish or the Dutch, They'll tell him they're the mighty tribe An no one else is much. They'll kill his deer and net his fish And clear away his wood, And frequently remark to him They do it for his good. They he will scalp and he will shoot And he will burn and slay And break the treaties he has made - - And, children, so will they. We won't go into all of that For it's too long a story, And some is brave and some is sad And nearly all is gory. But, just remember this about Our ancestors so dear: They didn't find any empty land, The Indians were here.

14. P OEM #12: L OVE P OEM W ITH T OAST M ILLER W ILLIAMS Some of what we do, we do to make things happen, the alarm to wake us up, the coffee to perc, the car to start. The rest of what we do, we do trying to keep something from doing something, the skin from aging, the hoe from rusting, the truth from getting out. With yes and no like the poles of a battery powering our passage through the days, we move, as we call it, forward, wanting to be wanted, wanting not to lose the rain forest, wanting the water to boil, wanting not to have cancer, wanting to be home by dark, wanting not to run out of gas, as each of us wants the other watching at the end, as both want not to leave the other alone, as wanting to love beyond this meat and bone, we gaze across breakfast and pretend.