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Richard Spiegel & Barbara Fisher, Co-Editors Intern: Thomas Perry

A program presented in collaboration with the New York Public Library, Sandra Payne. & Chad Quartuccio, Cooperating Librarians;

With support from the NYS Council on the Arts and Alternative High Schools & Programs.

Participat~ng Schools

Sacred Heart School, Saint Ann School Saint Sylvester School, Curtis High School McKee Vocational & Technical High School Staten Island Technical High School

• I

Rabbl Jacob Joseph School

PS 1, 19, 46, & 54

IS 7 & 75

Participating Teachers Mrs. Rosalie Avin, Mrs. Barone

Mrs. Arlene Blumenrich, Mrs. Mary Cumming Mrs. Andrea DeLuca, Miss Laurie Drew Mrs. E. Esposito, Mrs. Patricia Genera Mrs. Joanne Keenan, Mrs. Evelyn M. Lacagnino Mrs. Linda Lin, Ms. Carol Lowe

Mrs. Loretta McMillen, Ms. Mary Romeo Mrs. Eileen Sudberg, and Mrs. Wiedmann

@ 1993 Ten Penny Players Inc.


CONTENTS BOOK 2 ~ ~4:\o d1®@:IDg

Julie Drilon Angela Tambini Michelle Andelman Erick Goldberg Lauren Herrera Carine Ildebrando Rolland Janairo Cristin Last Marissa Leung Kimberly Aiello Jana Catherwood Maria De Carlo Leigh Estevez Jamie Haas

Guy Hauptman Jennifer Heron Brandon Kesselman Lucia Kim Jennifer Lee Andrew Mandelbaum

3 4 5 6 7

8-9 10 11 12 13 14 15

16-17 18 19 20 21 22

23-24 25-26

Liana Raquel Prieto 27-28 Thomas Florio 29

Michael Ferrara Kevin Lastella Gregory Scala

30 31 32


The wind gently blows through the trees, If you listen you can hear the buzz of the


Wa.tch the children swim in the pools, Because they are now out of school.

A happy and nice place to be,

Some people are not as lucky as me.

Homeless people on the street, Have no homes or food to eat. Dirty water everywhere, There's pollution in the air.

A peaceful place even in the rain, Or a violent place full of pain.




The ideal neighborhood;

It looks like every neighborhood should.

It is a neighborhood that is one with nature and society.

It is a place of hospitality. A place where everyon~ shares, And everyone cares.

It is some place where the children can play With a church, where we can go to pray. Around the corner is a store,

And you can walk a block and find the seashore.

A neighborhood of harmony,

For the children, adults, and elderly.



THE MANNEQUIN 1Ml 9.1C lkeUe A1JluJJe$mlflJfffJ

Look at the figure

Leaning over quietly, a stoic look painted on his blank face

No one can guess what is going on inside him The confusion and turmoil troubling

his sensitive heart.

No one can see through his cultured and mature


The hate and prejudice that brews in his mind. Concealed by his glamour and excitement,

Is a frightened child inside bringing forth a heart-breaking wail.

Although he knows he is secure and brave,

A pale tense figure scurries through his mind glancing quickly behind him.

Every day of his life he wishes that others would give him a chance to shine

like a star,

A star in a struggling hopeful world.

If we all worked together, I know we could paint a different, confident face on

that vague figure

And help New York be that shining star of hope.


AN ISLAND RETREAT lEff'idk rG@$tJijfjpeff'g

Balmy breezes caress my skin,

As a tranquil mood arises within. Soothing waves lap at my feet,

As I enjoy nature's treat.

Warm nurturing rays from the benign sun, Comprise a cosmic invitation to aqueous fun. Friendly smiling natives strolling pristlrie

sands, While lively dancing rhythms emanate from steel bands.

Good-natured fishing songs fill the splendid air,

As strong deckhands work without a care. Slowly from my face fades a beatific smile, As it is now that I must leave this tropical


7 NEIGHBORHOODS: "OUR CITY'S CALL" 1L({JJ t1IJ ren 1B1 e rre r ({JJ

A gentle tap of opportunity, Grazing hearts,

Forming unity;

Bursting with pride, for freedom she stands, A pale green statue,

About Ellis Island:

Blaring horns, babies' cries, Echo in Our ears,

Moistening our eyes;

Brilliant, Shiny,

Sparkling lights,

In this city; never a peaceful night:

Radiant people, everywhere, Benevolence;

Present in the air;


Is our city's call, For me, for you, For one, for all.



C (f]Jfritmte llldJte!Jpf!'(f1JtmdJlJI)

Once ...

The skies were clear Birds sang out to The wide open space The area was free For all to roam

The air was crisp And water clean.

Now ...

A glamorous city Holds the land

Skyscrapers meeting the clouds Broadway lights flashing a tune.

The mask of glamour Shuns the grim

We must look past the mask And confront what it hides.

The rich have power and are envied And the poor are avoided.

Forced to live

On barren streets

Through the frigid winter And the unbearable summer With no one who cares

No one who'll help

Look past the mask of corruption Replace it with your love Transform this life of poverty To a world of peace

A world of hope.



THE NEIGHBORHOOD ON THE GO lR.1/lJ$$l!lJwd] Jf 1!lJ1J1Jl!lJiifrl/lJ

I am on the go,

My people bustling about

Going about their own activity, I have crowded streets,

Vendors selling their items, People rushing to stores,

Others trying to reach tricycles, Jeepney's horns blaring.

Within a city, there is a neighborhood, It is quiet like a vacant lot,

The doors of the Spanish-like

houses wide open, Roosters crowing at dawn as loud as a bugle, Chickens clucking on the roads,

Neighbors greeting each other as they pass. I am a neighborhood in the Philippines.



There is a place where people go,

To buy their homes because they know, Lives, and family will be safe there, No one is cross, everyone is fair.

This is a neighborhood in which


No one is teased 'cause they're short or fat,

Everyone is special in every single way, Everyone is equal, night and day.

In this neighborhood you can buy

An ice cream cone with a wink of the eye, The ferris wheel you can ride for free, There are so many beautiful sights to se~.

In the morning hours or at dawn, You may see a doe and a fawn,

A mama bird bringing worms to her nest, All this love puts your heart to the test.

The neighborhood of love, Where the trees stand tall, Where the people are sweet, But most of all,

The neighborhood of love The heart's golden key, The neighborhood of love, A place for you and me.



Snow falls gently to the ground Creating a blanket of white on the grass Children laugh and play in the snow There are snowball fights and trenches made of snow Small children get help in making a snowman They hope it will come alive.

Sounds, sounds of winter all around Sounds of ice-scrapers against car windshields Shovels dragged over cement sidewalks Children screeching with delight as they slide down hills on sleds The dead silence of the cold winter night.

The snow melts at winter's end The snowmen say goodbye

This is the best season of the year This is winter in Staten Island.


A VIEW OF NEW YORK CITY lKimmibeff'l, AlieU@

I sit and listen to the city streets, The honks of horns and the pounding of

impatient feet, People moving at a rapid pace,

Each trying to find their important place, With buildings that tower into the sky,

That cause me to squint with the blaring sun

in my eye,

The vendors at their carts begging for sales, The men who are homeless eating from pails, The officer's whistle that rings through the


The taxis that speed to catch their next fare, The clink of change in the performer's hat, The women who gather for idle chat,

I wonder how a city with so much to do each day,

Ever finds the time to stop, look at life and


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NEW YORK J!@JfJ8 (fJJ ([J (fJJ f1 fk IE ff'Wf/lJ (Dur/J

New York, the city of many faces,

with different emotions in different places.

A smile at the Christmas Show,

and children laughing at the first fallen snow.

A cry of a mother at the loss of her son, all because a child went to school with a gun.

The fear of a woman driving her car,

like a soldier in battle of a great war.

The shame of the homeless living on the street, wondering if they will ever get back on their feet.

Drugs on the corners or in schools,

no wonder why no one obeys any rules.

Now York" - Will this crime ever end?

So Peace and Harmony can be our forever friends.


MY NEIGHBORHOOD M iflJff8iflJ lIJrg ([J iflJff$1/J)

Trees are blowing in the breeze, The pollen flows,

It makes me sneeze,

The sky is pink, blue and gray,

The moon's not out because it's day, The traffic honks as children play, Telling them to move away,

I look outside and hope for snow,

So schools close and I don't go

Graffiti covers the walls of school, 'Cause kids who do it think they're cool, Houses are lit up with fancy lights,

To decorate the stormy nights.




Some may live underground

in old holes they took over

or in holes they made for themselves.

They may live in the lap of luxury

never having to care about anything.

There is one thing that brings

these breeds of animals together Fear.

They are frightened to go into the Wide World

Because they die upon arrival.

The Wild Wood may look peaceful from a distance,

But never venture inside.

Enemies hide in the darkness, Not making any sounds,

I think that is the most frightening part of all.

The Silence.

Occasionally, only occasionally You find a caring soul

to help you

when you're blue.

This friend will be yours forever, to help whenever.

He will help some find reality

and not live in their fantasies.

He will help only when needed. With the help of this friend you will be strong.

You will be able to help others

who have lost the one they love.

sometimes the most unexpected people become your friends.

They help you escape the prison you have created for yourself.

At first you may disguise the problem, but there is no place to hide; You must overcome it.

If there were no friends there would be enemies.

There would be no peace.

We have to fight for our friends. We have to fight for ourselves. We have to fight for peace.

We must fight for the strength. to win back our cities.


;. 18

MY HOME TOWN ,j(fIJfIfIlJie lH!(fIJ(fIJ3

I can't say much about my home town, unless of course I put it down.

Not many of the people are nice.

No real animals except for mice.

The scent of the dump lingers for miles, But somehow I still see a lot of smiles. I soon will be where this smell does not

exist, And this disease of cancer is not at risk. Mountains go across the sky.

People always say hi and bye.

Even though this town is in my imagination, There has to be one like it in this nation.



Beneath the cool, polluted atmosphere of Newark, New Jersey, you can:

Hear the wailing sirens of police cars, gunshots,windows being shattered to pieces, and the screams of fear from innocent victims

See the dilapidated apartment buildings and men standing on the corners useless to their society.

Feel the chills run through your body as the native individuals scan you from head to toe.

Smell the burning rubber from stolen cars as they speed right past you.

Taste the contaminated air that roams around you as you walk through it and the drugs that get transmitted from hand to hand in a covert manner.



Neatly trimmed lawns catch your eye, Shrubs, flowers, trees, and green grass. You are far removed from city life,

But New York City is where you are.

Schools, churches, stores, buses, and trains, Peace, tranquility, wetlands, squirrels,


The best of both worlds,

This is my neighborhood, Houses line every street, Some are big, some are small,

The sound of children fills the air,

People walking, jogging, talking with others. Friendliness surrounds you,

A helping hand is always there.



BY JOHN STEINBECK) IE ff!UJ 1m dJ@tm f!{ IE 22 IE $ flfm!UJ tm

The Salinas Valley ...

With green grass that carpets the earth. Under which animals would roam.

The uncertainty of a rugged ranch life. Each season bringing unexpected events. The interdependence of man and animal for

survival Both at the mercy of the forces of nature. The vast Valley ...

Varying in colors from season to season -

Red geraniums scattered across the glistening grass, Blue skies making a bed for pillows of puffy

clouds, Changing to brown, brittle, barren earth, Under grey, threatening skies -

Lies the farm in the Salinas Valley.


SOUTH KOREA lL flI.lIe rUlJ jJ{ ii fJfJ1J

My homeland, my heritage.

Where the time goes by as fast as light. And no one stops for anything.

Life's a time-bomb ready to blow.

But there's an old man sitting at the edge of the stairs recalling his past

to his grandchildren.

Children follow their mom into the grocery store by tugging on her skirt which is about to falloff.

And white-collared men talk on their carphones deciding whether to invest in Goldstar or Hyundai.

Many things are beautiful in this country; The glorious peaks of white-caps on the east side.

The golden-bell trees blossoming in the spring beside the roads.

And laughter of children who are grimy from dirt while playing.

Korea is not the biggest and strongest country in the world,

But it is small and wise enough to make me proud of who I am.




The creeping fog recedes a bit, And the sunlight does a dance.

Horses can be heard on the cobblestone blocks, For it is morning here in France.

Merchants set out their goods to sell, The smell of pastry fills the air.

The craftsmen open their shops at dawn, Hoping to earn their share.

Peasants corne out as soon as they wake, Drifting slowly into the court.

They spent their day hard at work, Their rests are few and short.

Even though the children laugh, And the sun shines and beams,

Somethings are different from the inside and out,

And all may not be as it seems.

The small houses along the sides of the streets, Look worn and filled with care,

There is no love in this little town, For hatred fills the air.


Then I hear from the towers,

A sound that sets my heart aflame.

A sound of love in this malicious world, From you, the bellringer of Notre Dame.

They say that you are ugly, You are deaf and cannot hear, The insults that are leashed In hatred and in fear.

You never see the birds that fly, Or the children that are so fair. You retreat into your towers,

And hide in your small lair.

Why doesn't anyone hear you, When you shout up above?

You've only been given hatred, But somehow you learned to love.

He was killed by us and by hate, He did what he knew he must.

For when he had nothing left to love, He crumbled into dust.

He captured us all with his sounds of love, He lured us like a moth to a flame.

Now my heart is heavy and sad,

For gone is the ringer of Notre Dame.




(FROM THE CLASSIC BY GEORGE ORwELL) A:fJ1)diff$W 1Ml rmrmdi$$ihrmwfJf!TJ.

George Orwell's Animal Farm

is a masterpiece painted with words.

You can see the green grass,

the majestic trees, and the wonderful, colorful birds.

Old Major foretold a rebellion, Manor farm the animals would win. They would rename it Animal Farm,

and slavery would end and freedom would begin.

Only animals lived there because it was the Animal Farm.

A sanctuary for all beasts, where nothing could cause them harm.

The animals had won the war,

And you, Napoleon became the leader.

The others thought you were a hero, but you are just a cheater.

Napoleon, you lying pig, you are cruel and mean.

This wonderful place, this beautiful farm, it used to be so green.


Napoleon, you too were green, with envy you were green

You wanted to rule instead of Jones, You thought that was a clever scheme.

Now all the animals look inside, they see together pig and man They could not tell the difference.

as they looked from man to pig and pig to man again.



BY RoBERT CHARLES WILSON) lLt1@JfJfJlflJ JH.1flJf/jjf1lJce$ Prieto


a town of blue

sky above, sea below Always the same, never new

It slept quietly along the shore woken few times by small town gossip. A neighborhood where there is a child in every green grass backyard.

Everyone had a path to follow day after day

Until the night

the travelling moon spoke.

Life eternal was granted to those who wished it

The town began to disappear trees of green

torn from the roots sky of blue

clouds of gray the children

only skins, leftovers


The narrow

small town streets Empty

Not a soul walked across Main Street

The small quiet town was granted immortality then it died.


MY NEIGHBORHOOD 7!'!k (/]J mes IF $ (OHI' i, (/]J

Although it's not as great as pie,

It's not as pleasant as the bluest of skies, It's a place to live and a place to play Where you can hang around every day

You don't have to worry about pressures or

peers There's laughter, happiness, sadness and tears. It might not be clean and straight,

There's polluted streets and broken gates,

If I could, I never would

leave my favorite neighborhood.

Once you hear, the name I say

you'll probably think of kids and strays The .people around are nice and fun

You don't get bothered when you bathe in the sun

You can take walks in the park

Lights light up when the streets are dark The trees are nice and smell like pine There are green leaves and ivy's and pine. My neighborhood can learn and teach

It's two names are Arrochar and South Beach.

, " ...



My neighborhood would be cool,

I would have a great time at school. After school, I'll head for home, Then, I'll love to roam.

On the train it would be safe to go and come at will, Quite frankly, it would be a thrill!

Kids would ask me if I'll go to the park, We would be home before dark.

Now when it gets late,

My dad wants me home by eight.

In the neighborhood of the Year 2000

My parents won't have to worry anymore - We won't even have to lock the door.

So now I can go to bed,

Without a worry on my head.

It's fun to run in my dream I wake up so it seems,

There are no guns or violent acts Just no room for that.

The neighborhood of the Year 2000 is a pleasure and that's a fact.




The perfect neighborhood where you can live, Is a neighborhood where you can enjoy bringing up a kid.

Soft and silent like a slow song,

A neighborhood where everyone gets along.

A neighborhood with peace and quiet, Where there's never a riot.

We should all try to create good harmony, This is the perfect kind of neighborhood for

you and me.



My make believe neighborhood would have many houses - not close together,

One part of the neighborhood would have only stores - with neat shelves and clean floors.

Cops would be allover, day and night - Strict laws would keep us free from fright. People would have jobs to keep

the neighborhood clean and pretty And most of all get rid of the graffiti!

Law breakers would pay a big fine, If they destroy the neighborhood which is yours and mine!

A Waterways Project Publication 0-93483.Q-55-X