Sonnets Written by my Students (and one by me):


I've sailed the world for seven lonely years.
I realize it's been shorter than it seems.
A thousand lovers left behind in tears
Because I saw you walking through my dreams.
You came to me and then you touched my hand,
Your eyes aflame, your hair in gentle sway.
Your silent words would make me understand
That you were real, though you were far away.
Oh please come back and show me where you are.
I long to feel your lips against my own.
No seaside port or island is too far.
No longer can I live my life alone.
Transcend my dreams and save me from my strife.
Together we shall live an endless life.

-David G (Fall 1986)


Relationships. That's what it's all about.
In life everyone you meet you could
Have a relation with, without a doubt,
Whether it's close or estranged, bad or good.
Throughout our hectic life we deal
With many different people. Always,
Interactions change, just as how we feel
Constantly changes. Sometimes we may gaze
At them, sometimes we don't even want to
Know them. But no matter what, a bond of
Some kind formed and we begin to see you
Differently from below or above.
How we view you determines how our
Relation grows - sour milk? strong flower?

-Margaret H (Fall 1998)


On the green grass with the white accents down,
Running for points with the pigskin at hand,
Attempting to touch the part that's your land,
The echo of the cracking of your crown,
Screams from the crowd as the leather sets sail,
Glass eyes zooming in as the tension grows,
Lie on your back from the fiercest of blows,
The weak looking on and with time grow pale,
A mountain of flesh on top of the ball,
A gleaming of flags stream by and fly high,
Striped black and white eyes looking over all,
Yells from the side wishing the refs to die,
The outcome at last, nobody can tell,
Tonight the Niners sent the Saints to hell.

-Tom A (Fall 1998)


I awake to a day full of promise,
The sun shines high over the land below.
Will I use this beautiful day or not?
Shall I jump high off a great mountain top?
Or shall I calmly walk down to the level road?
No bumps or jolts, just a day that's mellow.
To plan the day ahead is good for some,
To be sure of what is to come is safe,
But I don't plan to walk the level road.
There will be bumps and jolts as I jump.
I will not be the one to waste the day,
I will take the chance and not waste the day.
What will happen? I will not waste the day,
I will take this great chance and truly live.

-Heather S (Spring 1999)


The many roaches to kill here and there
The manager thinks without heat I can go
Every day something is in disrepair
Don't ask me what I found behind the stove
The walls are rotting from the inside out
Tenants in Twelve toss trash out the air shaft
Next door the Russians spout domestic shouts
For nine hundred a month, I'm getting jacked
The scent of cat pee is finally gone
Though fresh air is nowhere to freely breathe
Rust in the shower just seems to be wrong
Girls upstairs are so loud I wish they'd leave
But as long as I get to live alone
This is the place I am proud to call home.

-Alexis P (Fall 1999)


No one will ever compare to Alvin,
For he is the cutest man that I know.
I am lucky, for his love I shall win.
But I'm not sure if I want his love, though,
Because Joel forever haunts my mind.
He is sweet; he picks me up when I fall.
My mother keeps telling me I am blind.
She yells Joel is short, Alvin is tall.
Who should I claim? Where do I feel a spark?
Alvin is Summer. He is blue and bright.
Joel is Winter. He is red and dark.
Indecisiveness is not a good sight.
Yes, I have decided, both shall be mine.
No, nothing could possibly be more fine.

-Signe M (Fall 1999)


I float dead in a calm sandy warm sea.
Tingling grit circles molasses thick air.
Wind wakes my eyes with a whisper to me,
The rustic sun stares like wounds scraped bare.
A blood orange haze calls to the ocean.
Calm water swells and grasps at naked toes,
Eating the sandy sea with sweeping motion.
I swim sand to safety changing my pose.
The bleeding sun morphs black and disappears,
The hungry ocean is now satisfied.
The black blinds my eyes, the water my ears,
I am now hid from the high of high tide.
A snow white moon then appears way above,
A peaceful sign like a floating white dove.

-Chris L (Spring 2000)


When the days are dark and the nights are long,
I yearn to see the buds emerge with the sun
And hear the sweet Robin's light, springtime song;
The cold winter evenings are almost none.
But when that merry lover's season be,
I take certain care to preserve my health,
For when I relax under blooming trees,
My sneezes attack me with the greatest stealth.
So I wait for the scorching summer heat,
In which flowers and trees dare not burgeon;
As the fall's dusty heat comes to its peak,
I calmly wait for the days to shorten.
But when the dew is icy yet again,
I cannot wait for the winter to end.

-Alex T (Spring 2000)


When my mind wanders free, it thinks of you.
Impulse borne external, disobeying me.
If this is love, what has the world come to?
To love absence, shuddering company.
The empty ghosts of grandparents are here;
They mouth silence, their wisdom is hidden.
Their memories, naked, naive, more fear.
Away from there, we leave, all with riddance,
Whence we return to the public present.
Won't time's passage distill all this harshness?
And soon we forget, quickly we resent.
But my weary love there sits, still, darkness...
If life be a tragedy, let it end,
And surely I will down those steps descend.

-David H (Fall 2000)


He the loyal gent whose deep quest for truth,
A pursuit for knowledge and absolutes.
Now, some considered this to be uncouth,
But came from question, observance and routes.
He questions royals, aristocrats of name,
And spreads his knowledge of love, ethics and peace.
He doubts the Gods, his people and life's game,
As he wanders the streets of Rome and Greece.
In search of this great gift of free thought,
He argued and debated his confusion.
A storm of wonder and chaos was brought,
Only to create a larger illusion.People wondered the origin of this reason:
He was questioned, tried, and killed for treason.

-"Socrates" by Shannon M (Spring 2001)


Here I sit, asleep in my own classes
Looking at the world through my sleepy glasses.
Its not my fault! Really, it's true!
It's what these guys in RO are making me do.
Every morn at six, PT is well done.
We run, jump, sit, push...it ain't no fun.
I get up at a quarter to five;
I must fall asleep to stay alive.
I tell you this for a reason, you see,
This is my best apology from me to thee.
Its not my fault, really, I swear, its true!
Its what these guys in RO are making me do!

-Jason C (Spring 2001)


No car of your own? No scooter? No bike?
To get around town wait for public ride,
Or pack a lunch, put on your clothes, and hike.
Oh, let Muni be your around-town guide.
Head down to the street and wait by the pole,
Next to the areas marked with white paint.
Sacrifice a dollar for Muni toll.
Pay, cause possibly owning a car, ain't.
Hopefully you are not in a hurry,
Muni only comes once in long while.
Wait and wait and wait, but do not worry,
You won't wait longer that an hour...smile.
Oh joy, the orange and white bus is here.
Oops! No room! Wait for another...oh dear!

-Julie K (Spring 2001)


It's Monday night and I want to go out.
‘Almost seven and I'm ready!' I shout,
But there's no answer and I hear a noise
Coming from downstairs, a loud bunch of boys.
‘It's Monday Night Football - here, have a beer!'
Another night of sports and booze, they cheer.
Great, another night of testosterone.
‘We'll go out after the game,' they all groan.
Just when I think we'll all go out to eat -
Sportscenter comes on - all stay in their seats.
A Monday night with dinner is my goal...
Guess I'll have to wait ‘til the Super Bowl.
Not going out, there won't be a reason -
Except for maybe... baseball season!

-Susan M (Spring 2001)


Life's existence cannot be understood.
Claim to understanding cannot exist;
If one does, it's only so they sleep good.
The one answer lies lonely in the mist.
Some people kill while other people heal,
Good intentions bring nothing but meaning,
So think about this before your next meal
And learn what intentions you are bringing.
I do not know exactly why I'm here.
I hope I'll find out soon, but maybe not.
Hopefully someday things will be more clear.
Enter that room, with explainable thought,
Know what you can and accept what can't be:
Life is mysterious, like you and me.

-Scott J (Spring 2001)


I feel the seams across my fingers,
The leather pulled tight, so smooth and so round.
The smell of grass in my senses lingers,
The best times all come while up on the mound.
Eight men on my side, yet I stand alone.
Just me and the batter are in this war.
A true test of grit right down to the bone.
I must avoid the dreadful call, "ball four."
The first pitch is thrown without any swing;
"Strike" yells the umpire so all may hear.
Strike two is called on my very next fling
As my opponent's face is filled with fear.
Now all will know that I am better than he,
I have triumphed with a forceful strike three.

-Justin A (Fall 2001)


Digable planets revive roots of jazz:
Ladybug mecca, doodle, butterfly -
They rhyme, flow, and are insects til they die.
Urban-digging beats give their souls pizzaz.
Onomatopoeia makes words come alive.
Snap crackle pop are crazy boogie sounds,
Hip-hop jazz trio livin' life - earthbound.
It is time and space that they reach and jive,
They be digging this, they be digging that.
Cosmic changes are included in rhyme,
They're the beatniks of our present time -
Political fun-loving jazz cool cats.
They use elements, micky-flicky-flick:
Jazz plus hip-hop, they're the rebirth of slick.

-Glen A (Intersession 2002)


Hither comes the horse with riding valor,
Whose flowered speech has grown a garden in.
My heart has ripened plump with false rapture,
My passion boils upon the touch of skin.
With shadowed eyes, I shared my dormant dream
But reveries do take to bitter bliss.
Now pierce of spindle wakens those to grim,
So goes the loss of pureness in my kiss,
My thoughts of love in ‘tales have gone and passed.
Yet Beauty still remains in temp'ral sleep,
And Cinder waits to slip her foot in glass.
But I, alone, with crystal eyes do weep
For the whims of love, like tides retreating,
Ebbed away upon a fables' fleeting.

-Jazel L (Spring 2002)


She took me to the Salvation Army
to pick up some pants. That used and bleached scent
takes over the whole store and a big full
loss fills the faces of each worker and
shopper inside. We left with a pair of
gray pants and a mix-tape made by someone
we have never met. The next time I saw
her we heard each song from the tape on a
long drive without a destination. I
have been lucky enough to wake up to
her while she pushes the snooze button a
few times in my life. These so-called moments
are the only truth I know and I am.
I should call and see if she needs new clothes.

-Ben C (Spring 2002)


Socrates called a question a base need,
Plato reasoned that all was extrinsic,
Aristotle thought all is intrinsic,
The emphasis was thus on the perceived.
Descartes became the father of the doubter,
Aquinas contemplated deep down low,
St. Augustine's sins nearly lost control,
Thus the question turned to the perceiver.
Wittgenstein saw language as a prison,
Sartre's experience preceded essence,
Marx and Engels worried for the peasants,
They showed society to be crimson.
All of this being rather large and fat,
How does one know where he or she is at?

-Ashley P (Spring 2002)




I've dreamed of singing my life as a song
I sometimes wish that this song had a word
The melody is sweet, it can't be wrong
And there are crescendos so often heard
But it doesn't end, it's forever long
I don't have much of a voice you see
Close your eyes until darkness is light
The melody a solo symphony
The audience will applaud with a smile
Everything is soft, slow motion and right
And just for a moment, a pause a while
I want to speak but the words don't rhyme
Yet the tune continues, never vile
And the final note lingers on thru time

-Susan A (Spring 2003)


I held you three seasons, win'er, spring, summer,
And to you, I fed the most basic treats.
Fuji apples and piña were your feasts.
Swaying in salty vortex, you slumber -
When at last, tired of your oceans spin,
As a groundhog on the first day of spring
We met - kissing, cud'ling, laughing, wond'ring
At the other's aspects. Drowsy you grin.
Where did you come from and whom do you see?
"Aah, oooo, wa, ma, ha, o, uuh," you coo - Bright
Opals, almond, dark awe at mine. Your night
Tresses, sleek like new grasses float lightly
Atop your sweet, honey, cream countenance.
Abreast in bliss we dive, love's abundance.

-Sheila Y (Fall 2003)


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