You Can't Have it All

But you can have the breeze gently strike your face, refreshing you after an intense practice. You can have the sweet sound of a flawless shot entering the hoop, touching nothing but net. You can have the sound of basketball shoes squeaking against the wooden floor. You can have an unconditional friend who understands you no matter how much you change; music. You can have your dog jumping on your lap, with its tongue out, begging to play with her. You can have the birds singing their sweet melody at 5:30 Am as you’re eating breakfast. You can have all your family squished into a three person couch frantically screaming at the TV screen as a boxer gets knocked out. You can chat with friends for hours which seem like minutes. You can have fresh lemons in your garden to make the most refreshing, thirst quenching lemonade. You can head bang to a guitar riff and air drum to a drum solo. You can have a long bus ride providing you with just enough time to finish homework you forgot to do. You can see people’s perplexed faces as you say you have 8 siblings. You can answer “work” when people ask what you did in class, and get a kick out of it every time. You can get mistaken for a classmate all the time. You can lie in a hammock and drift off into sleep, leaving behind all your worries. You can chase the paletero all the way to the other neighborhood just for an Eskimo pie. You can scream “Not in my house!” as you block the shot of an opponent. You can dream of being a cowboy astronaut football player. You can have a personal handshake with every friend. You can watch the underdog, surface with renewed hope to beat the best team. You can watch your 78 year old grandpa going up to the 20 year old cashier ladies and flirting with them, reciting them poems, and singing songs to them. You can have a grandpa that prefers walking a mile to the store than being taken by car. You can see Kobe Bryant making a buzzer beater leading Lakers to a win. You can get an A on a dreaded test, without the need of studying. You can’t be the best from the start, but you can strive for it, practice every day leaving sweat and hope in the field, so one day, just maybe you can be the star.

Poetry Notebook

War may be thought of as an uncivilized way of solving issues. But when there are no options left, it has to be done. There is always a positive side about everything though, war evokes feelings, and those feelings are made into poems, some of the best poems.


Memorial Day for the War Dead by Yehuda Amichai

The War Works Hard by Dunya Mikhail


Waiting for the Barbarians by C.P


The Fall of Rome by W.H. Auden


For the Union Dead by Robert Lowell

The Diameter of the Bomb by Yehuda Amichai

Fugue of Death by Paul Celan

Eighth Air Force by Randall Jarrell

Colonial Cream-Benjamin Moore OC-77

Rich, old men and
Their wives living
The final stage of life
Nothing to live for anymore.

Like English Royalty,
In their castle.
Not being able to let loose,
Drinking tea, talking
About current events.

The neighborhood desolate,
Aside from the men with
Bald or grey hair,
Their skin saggy,
Like bread dipped in milk.

The clinking of the walkers
Is the only sound, no bikes,
No children screaming,
Only the sound of death.
Near.

All the houses the same
Monotonous color.
A cream which portrays
Dullness and sorrow.

The youth gone,
Nothing else remains.
Only wrinkles, and no control
Over their bladder.

It is now filled with
Youth and happiness,
But I’m not there,
To claim my prize.

The Diary of a Young Girl

The Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank


Publisher: Pocket Books/Washington Square Press

Genre: Non fiction
Where I got it: From the middle school library, had heard a lot about this book before.

One sentence summary: This book shows the attempt of Jewish families to hide from the atrocities of the Nazi, unfortunately they are found and send to a concentration camp, Anne dies, and so does all the Frank family except the father who published the book.

First sentence of the book: On Friday, June 12th, I woke up at six o’clock and no wonder; it was my birthday.

First Chapter Review: Anne is telling how her life is, this is before the holocaust. She doesn’t really trust in anyone much, so she hopes that this diary she got for her 13th birthday will listen to her, this chapter only talks about her as a normal girl, not anything about Nazi’s.

Verdict: This was an interesting book, got boring at times since it wasn’t action packed, but enjoyable. Would I recommend it? Yes, but if you are a person who likes action don’t go for this book, you will abandon it halfway through.


Cover Comments: The cover only shows the face of Anne Frank, she seems to be sad, but the context of the picture’s setting or time is not clear.

Where I'm From

I’m from sport balls,
Spalding and Nike

I am from a house with wooden floor,
From the cocker spaniel jumping on the
Visitors legs. With the garden in the backyard,
That host birds who sing while we eat.

I’m from the colorful garden with
Veraneras, sunflowers, and lillies.

I’m from cramping in the couch, to watch and cheer
For the boxers fighting for their money and ultimately their live.
From a family of giants in a city of dwarves.
From Uncle Omar and Pocho lighting the family
Reunions with their humor.
From the Campos but living with the Espinosa.

I’m from watching la cascara and
Taking a walk at night, with my family trailing behind me.

From “that’s my son” when I excel to
“you can do better” when I’m average.

I am from the first communion, which
All members have completed.
But none go to church.

I’m from Panama, and only Panama
A place known for its canal and dictator.
A place where you eat arroz con pollo and carimanolas

From when my dad tells me about his childhood. How
He would go into the forrest with only a knive, and hunt
Animals for experiments, instead of being lost in a virtual world
Like us.

I am from a thick picture book which
Frames memories that will never be forgotten.
But filled with dust, from the accumulation of days
It was deserted.

This tree is one with strong roots in this
Fertile land. A tree that once was a sappling
But grew to be an oak. I am a small branch
Of this tree, but one day I will make
This tree grown and be stronger.

The disaster of Japan was a truly devastating one. It was a tsunami ravaging anything on its path, preceded by a magnitude 9 earthquake. Copious amounts of people are dead, and many others are grappling to stay alive. This natural disaster was especially devastating because Japan is not really a capacious country, but it’s filled with people regardless.
The tsunami was audible from a long distance away because it took down everything crossing its path; tainting the azure of the water with blood and debris. The tsunami didn’t seem to decelerate as it took down everything it stuck in its current.
The earthquake was magnitude 9, with its epicenter in the Pacific Ocean, which was the reason for the tsunami. The earthquake is the most powerful recorded in the Japan in at least 100 years. It also was 8,000 thousand times stronger than the most recent quake in New Zealand.
Many other countries are aiding Japan by deploying many adept life savers to rescue all the trapped people who are still alive. It is crucial for the live savers to be fastidious as they dig through the remains of houses so they find people who are still alive.

Book Review: The House on Mango Street

The title of the book isThe House on Mango Street because, it is the place where Esperanza lived in for a year. She was always ashamed of her house because it looked, it symbolized her being ashamed of who she is. The neighborhood holds many bad memories for Esperanza so she doesn’t want to be part of it, or ever recognize she was part of it.

This is the memoir of Esperanza, a young, mexican girl who lives in the United States in a tough neighborhood. She is subject to racism for being mexican, and subject to sexism for being a women. She strives to become independent and surpass all the limitations society has imposed her. Her depictions of the world through her use of metaphors makes you feel as if you were seeing what she has described.

This book is organized in vignettes. They range from one page to five pages. The vignettes are told in chronological order, but she skips in time. She never goes back though. All vignettes have names, and no pictures are given, no need for the pictured because of her vivid portrayal.

The memoirist has come to realize on the book that she isn’t the steryotipical women, because she doesn’t want to be trapped in the kitchen, making sandwhiches for men, when they come back from work. She wants to be like men, in the sense that she wants to go out, and work, and not need to be dependent on marrying a welathy man to be succesful.

I think that this book was one of the best I’ve read in a while. I loved the message that it held, and her out of ordinary metaphors.

Lines We Love:
“At school they say my name funny as if the syllables were made out of tin and hurt the roof of your mouth. But in Spanish my name is made out of a softer something, like silver, not quite as thick as sister’s name – Magdalena- which is uglier than mine.” Pg.11.