Poetry contest note from Bogey

Hey Nobo,

I've removed your message about the poetry contest for now until I do some research on it. Unfortunately, with every legitimate contest out there, there are probably just as many, if not more that are scams. I'll explain more about this in class.

Here's a trusted site that I think you'll find very helpful:

http://www.pandorascollective.com/sdrfestival.html

Check out the past winners in the children's category for some inspiration.

Your enthusiasm is contagious!

-Mr. G.

Mystery story

It all began in Las Vegas, Nevada. The year was 1972 and a 23 year old private detective named Jack Johnson was lounging with his brother in his condo. His brother was a good looking arrogant narcissus, most of the male gender hated and was extremely jealous of him it was the opposite for women, his name was John Johnson he was a major high roller among other things, let’s just say John is one of the reasons Las Vegas is called sin city.

Jack was built tall and tough when he wanted information he got it. All crooks were scared of him because he was known for shutting down them and their business which would range from selling drugs to selling illegal videos. He himself hated his brother but would never call the cops up to arrest him. There was only one conversation Jack had with his brother and that was about John.

One day John Johnson was murdered. Jack was called up immediately by one of John’s colleges. Jack made an appointment with John’s buddy. John’s buddy was like John except for the fact that he wasn’t as wealthy, his name was Lee Bing. Mr. Bing was offering Jack 40 grand if he could crack the case, the only problem was Mr. Bing’s money was hot so he only gave Jack one week. “Mr. Bing we need to go back to the basics, what we need to know is what John was doing, what weapon the killer used, what time it was, real proof of the crime in action or someone planning the murder and finally who did it.” Said Jack Johnson in his rough voice. “I’ll start the hunt in downtown.” Declared Jack

Jack went to downtown in his leather coat and hat he started looking for the right people to ask. He went up to two young men and asked in his street talk “Yo homey give me some info on dat murder of yo home boy John.” “yo man we don’t chill wit no cops.” “Is that so?” “Ya lets beat it man.” The two guys started going away when Jack pulled out a double barrel shotgun and a grapple gun. He shot one guy with the grapple gun and the other with the shotgun they both blew right through the person it was aimed at. The guy who got shot by the shotgun looked at the chunk blown out of him and the blood pouring out of his stomach and slowly and painfully died. The other guy’s lung flew out of him but he stayed alive, Jack grappled him in and whispered in his ear “who was it.” The young man died before he could answer “good thing I wore gloves.” Uttered Jack.

this is all i have so far please give feedback

Wandering

Hey Grade,
This poem has NOT been made into published material, please give me your comments on the PROS and CONS about the poem and how I can improve it... Thanks!

Wandering
by: Marc L.
Grade: 6A

I scrummage for the food
that fell out of her sandwich
This is my usual breakfast a few measly crumbs
and if I’m lucky some leftover scraps from the
bottom
of a restaurant garbage

Walking all alone
in Brooklyn seeing many others of my type
Looking as hungry
and tired as me
cold empty stomachs showing through their faces
Is this how I really look

What has become of me
Who am I
My name is Frank but is it that
now

I’ve been traveling on this road
for a long time
So long I have lost track
The road that put shaggy
dirty clothes on my body
a road where
hunger concurs everything

What is my step-father thinking right know
No
why should I care
I am here because of him
Everything he said and did to me drove me
out
I wish I could just run home
and talk to mom again
but I can’t stand going to his house

People told me he loved me deep down
but I think it’s
crap
He would have treated me like his real son
not his step-son

I miss dad
real dad
He is in Canada
and I wish I could call him
but my minutes are up

I must keep my mind of that topic
and think about where I’m going
to sleep
what I’m going to eat
and keeping worm

I can’t keep on sleeping in that back alley
cause last night I saw a gang gather nearby with
guns!
Maybe under a bench in Central Park
will do

I scrummage for the food
that fell out of her sandwich
This is my usual lunch a few measly crumbs
and if I’m lucky some leftover scraps from the
bottom
of a restaurant garbage

Waiting
hoping
Craving
for a friend to recognize
me behind this wall that separates
me
from
reality

Looking in garbage cans for thrown away bottles
there are dozens just lying
not doing anything

Inspecting myself
in a shop window
I have gotten so skinny
but not in a good way

All those kids
looking so happy
in their big fur coats
going into huge toy shops
and having their daddies buy them everything

I hate all that!
I hate it!
I hate it!
I hate it!
My life was never like that
and never will be
I was cut off
from being spoiled
given
or loved
when I was younger

I feel like screaming
at the top of my lungs
but I don’t know
if I’m able to
my mouth is so parched
and I’m not sure if I want to
waste what I’ve got left

I scrummage for the food
that fell out of her sandwich
This is my usual dinner a few measly crumbs
and if I’m lucky some leftover scraps from the
bottom
of a restaurant garbage

Marc L.

6B homework!

Do a response on the movie "Pay it Forward". Due Dec. 3

No need to bring unforms for PJ day

Hi Gang,

No need to bring your uniforms for PJ day after all.

Please spread the word.

Mr. G.

hebrew help

hey guys im really stuck on this hebrew test if anyone has some notes they can share that would be amazing thank you so much


-mikaela

PJ Day

Hi Gang,

Please also bring your regular uniform for our field trip to the Jewish Book Festival at the JCC.

Thanks,

Mr. G.

If This is a Man

You who live safe
In your warm houses,
You who find, returning in the evening,
Hot food and friendly faces:
Consider if this is a man
Who works in the mud
Who does not know peace
Who fights for a scrap of bread
Who dies because of a yes or a no
Consider if this is a woman,
Without hair and without a name
With no more strength to remember,
Her eyes empty and her womb cold
Like a frog in winter.
Meditate that this came about:
I command these words to you.
Carve them in your hearts
At home, in the street
Going to bed, rising;
Repeat them to your children,
Or may your house fall apart,
May illness impede you,
May your children turn their faces from you.


By: Primo Levi