Poems by the students of Queens Paideia School’s Writers Workshop, led by Martha Witt, PhD

Most of these are about the Queensboro Bridge, in connection with the LIC Arts Open’s Children’s Art Contest, sponsored by QPS. The final poem is by the youngest member of the Workshop, on a subject of her own choosing.

The Queensboro Bridge

O, Shadowy bridge, you arc with power,

Your glow illuminating the foggy night.

O, Mighty bridge, you gawk at the rippling waves,

And squawk at the gulls above.

O, Powerful bridge, your snakelike dark

Leads desolate travelers to their dreams.

O, Queensboro Bridge, you roar

Across the water.

--Giovanni Santalucia (age 11)

Queensboro Bridge Poem

The dawns were tilting toward the

apartment buildings, I say my

pledge halfway through crossing

the bridge. My mom reads me a

Greek Myth. “Another world

awaits you, Hermes, get to the bridge,”

she would say in her manly voice.

The Death Gravity Bridge is 30

miles from the Queensboro Bridge

at that moment the Death Gravity Bridge

was spying on the Queensboro Bridge. The Death Gravity Bridge was using his eye contacts to spy harder. Queensboro Bridge and Death Gravity Bridge were enemies ever since they had water accidents at their Bridge School.

As twilight turned into a movie, it also turned into a nighttime.

--Ona Carranza (age 11)

A Mass of Metal

The Queensboro Bridge

A mass of metal

A double cantilever

A cow with its four stomachs.

The many screws and bolts

that were used, payed off

millions of cards, trucks, and

buses drive on it.

You can go, look down, and

see a huge, green, shiny

river with a city on either side.

Hundreds of moving colors

old, new, little, big, thin, wide,

like rainbows. What a sight

as they race across the

Queensboro Bridge, a mass of metal.

--Ben Mechner (age 11)

Queensboro Bridge

Linking Queens and Manhattan,

I arch over the calm water,

cars rush,

The blur of colors like a merry-go-round

spun fast.

The skies above me bright like

a blue bird’s sleek feathers.

Down below the calm water ripples,

underneath lies a dark blue mystery.

Choiring birds from above

and the sign of stars as I stand in the night,

never moving, never changing.

People in cars may think

it’s like a bridge across

a second of time.

Then the lonely hell of twilight comes when no more

cars fly across.

--Anika Harper Langberg (age 10)

I Am a Bridge

I am a bridge 2 names (maybe 3).

Traffic is normal for me. I am a sidewalk for cars.

Cars with flashing lights its no paradise. Buildings are cousins

with Giants. So are us bridges.

My good friend Brooklyn Bridge

and my rival Manhattan Bridge.

We all went to school together.

Brooklyn Bridge would help me

in math and Manhattan Bridge

would bully me.

I’ve seen Ferraris and I’ve

seen dirty old pickup trucks.

I thought I’ve seen UFOs but I can’t tell anyone cause

I am a bridge.

--Gaetano Ippolito (age 11)

Queensboro Bridge

Sleepless bridge

in the twilight’s light

rusty and brown

It is like a god

in snow or rain

Though its floating

to the other side

It’s not a myth

The Bridge is like a vibrant relief

All nice to look at

AT sunrise or sunset

or at midday or midnight

This is the bridge in cinemas

Full of cables leading

into the city’s fiery light.

--Aaron Savoury (age 12)

What I Am

I am a child that glitters in the night.

I hang from my feet and curl up in the dark.

I swoop down on mice, and rip them

with my sharp teeth.

I am a rabbit that bounces

one to-two and two-to one.

I am scared of the children in the garden,

Especially the grown child.

I am a cat that sang when I was born

And went looking for my mother.

That's who I am.

--Iris Santalucia (age 6)