June 12, 2012

ENG 5-9


The Shark

Swimming in the dark

Comes a big bad shark

But don’t have fear

If his teeth are sharper than a spear

Wild and fierce

He’ll gobble you from up to down

In the sea until you drown

He can’t bark because he’s a shark

But he can roar and make a war.


Tomas Prokipcak, aged 9

The New School, Rome


A Panther

A panther is a predator, it’s ferocious and terrible

It has gleaning eyes, and it’s powerful

In the night all you can see is the reflection of its yellow greenish eyes

This careful high advantage has the element of surprise

It sleeks

and creeps

and has sharp teeth

Sneak attacks from behind

A complex wonderful feline by design

A panther runs fast

and sometime (for us) it’s no last

I would be scared if I saw a panther in the night

I’ll be full of fright

Fortunately it will happen only in my imagination

and the perfect killing machine is just an emotion

Pierpaolo D’Amici, aged 8

St Francis’ International School, Rome

ENG 10-13


I see ruins

I see ruins, in this lonely world

I see ruins, in this ancient world

The dust swirling in between the creeps of the rocks,

The tiny insects, their frail legs, crawling, slowly on the yellow sand.

The sun rushing to the end of the day,

With its magical rays, through the enchanting walls, which are here to stay.

Forever and after, surrounded by nothing, it will keep our promises, it will keep our dreams.

Although in the gaps of our bitter life, when we will laugh, when we will cry,

we will always remember, those magical ruins, surrounded by nothing, in this ancient world.

I see ruins, in this lonely world.

Silvio Leonardo Muccino, aged 12

The New School, Rome


Over the rainbow-who we really are

We are sitting in front of the desk, listening to classical music

“Classical music, what’s this rubbish?”

You will always be judged if you are out of the ordinary!

We don’t adapt to the crowd.

But why should choosing to be different weigh on our shoulders?

Here on Earth, we men are puppets in the hands of fate, attached threads, unarmed, defenceless, we tie our personality to a clichéd figure

And every day we play the part that we are assigned.

That is our choice, that is what we have decided.

Two eyes, my eyes, looking at this confusion of masks, think: “My God is it really all that complicated?”

And not even Beethoven, whose music is background to our thoughts, is able to give us an answer.

So, those eyes, the same eyes that watch this tide of liar diplomacy, turn to the sky, and, with a childish smile, catch sight of the rainbow.

And ask: “Man’s personality, what have they themselves taken and thrown in the fire?”

Where is it?

And the sky answers: “Over the rainbow”

Only over the rainbow, men will know how to be who they really are.

But if we men don’t have the courage to be who we really are, how can we find the strength to solve the problems of humanity?

How can we destroy racism, wars, homophobia, conflict, if our biggest ambition is to be tied to a stereotype?

Meanwhile, Beethoven continues to play, we continue to write, and the room observes our body bent over the paper, intent on finishing this thought that tastes like rain.

Indeed, it is the rain that allows the rainbow to be born.

And, despite everything, in everybody’s eyes,

The colours of the rainbow shine on, intensely.

Declan Coughlin e Chiara Cecere, aged 13 and 13

Scuola A. Rosmini, Roma

ENG 14-18


The Cacophony of Nirvana


The lump in the back of her throat

Prods and pulls at her voice

Like a sunfish caught under a current

She knows not what it is

She stammers before silence

Beauty is evaded with artifice

Liveliness is replaced with fear

The insidious lump manifests

The insidious lump invades

Her life sinks out of reach.


The waif of a girl

Ghostly in appearance

Ghostly in spirit

Flings the scant hair off her head

Defiant of what comes to her

Defiant of what God gives

She spends days in fear

Chemical pulses ringing through her body

Chemical pulses singeing her senses

She lapses into oblivion.


The spirit holds dominion over the body

What is felt is not accepted

What is seen eats her away

The will prevails through tribulation

Her flawed beauty rouses the ego

Drained of color, the skin blooms

Drained of life, the soul sings

To reclaim that which fear spirited away.


Thin wisps of hair restore life

She opens the door and sees the spirit left behind

The chemical pulses retreat as they came

Heartbeats replace plastic unease

Sunlight usurps frenzied vibrations

Slowly, sublimely

The lump roots in her form

The lump feeds her soul

Her jovial voice chirps

And the sun melts into white abyss.

Noah Morrison, aged 16

The Bronx High School of Science, New York City


Endless Rebirth

As the dawn crept up the sky, shining on the horizon line,

Hermaphroditus found himself within a glade he’d not beheld before.

Guided by the sun, he caught sight of a shimmering spring,

But trying to quench his thirst, he disturbed the waters

And the naiad Salmacis has been stirred from her sleep.

He turned and saw her, in a cloak of mist alone,

While her fading voice said they should be joined as one.

A brightening light bringing an unearthly calm descended from the sky,

And then their flesh and bones were strangely merged.

A new creature was born which crawled into the spring

And everyone who touches the spring may share this fate.

This mythical destiny is given to us and like when

The lizard has shed its tail, it will be reborn

Or the Arabian phoenix will revive from its ashes,

The watcher of the skies originates once again our form

From the continuous flow of life in the ocean of being.

Sebastiano Valà, aged 18

Polo Liceale Statale Saffo, Roseto degli Abruzzi (TE)