a poetry chapbook by Surrey High School students

contextawesomeinterestingcreationanythingprofoundcreativeexpressionflowingunknownimaginativeinternalthinkingchallengeexpressioninterestingfunfreedomcareadventurousconfessingweirdchoicespontaneoustransitiondirtycurse wordsdiverseinterestingconcrete jungleplace horriblelovelydamphomecityunfortunateover-populatedcoolcommunityhomeconcrete jungleplace horriblehomedirtytransitioninternalspontaneousfuncityinterestingconfessing

city/home

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poems

Edited and Designed by Taryn Hubbard,tarynhubbard@gmail.comMay 2012

The following poems were writen during a workshop with students from Surrey District 36 Learning Centres. We met once a week for four weeks. During this time we thought about Surrey and how to write about the city where we live, go to school, and make a life. What emerged was a collection of poems that uncover a version of Surrey that is unique to these poets.

Welcome to Surrey!Oliver Ferland

It Got Burnt DownCheyenne Shouting

In SurreyDamian Cheveldave

Mother Weighs Water HereKaitlyn Taylor

The Older DaysTravis Girard

Performing Asphaltan exquisite collaboration

Glory/Dreamsan exquisite collaboration

The Loopan exquisite collaboration

Tracing the Fraseran exquisite collaboration

Beautify the LandscapePaige Ferguson

SurreyDavid Garratt

The ProblemRebecca Belgrove

San JoseDavid Ellison

You Cannot Contain MeNisha Sandhu

The GameGraham Palframan

SurreySara McDonnell

SurreyDarcy Blyth

You Beautiful, LiarRoxanne Hawkes

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art

bios

I Moved HereJonathan Rempel

King George Blvd. @ 72nd StreetChris Pettigrew

Less Than Two WeeksDarcy Blyth

Mayors Need a ShakeCheyenne Shouting

JustChris Pettigrew

Who IsGraham Palframan

The Family BusinessPaige Ferguson

Town MeetingDamian Cheveldave

The LandKaitlyn Taylor

VictoriaSara McDonnell

A Different StoryDarcy Blyth

WalkingPaige Ferguson

Our Facts Oliver Ferland

HereGraham Palframan

Sara McDonnell

Nisha Sandhu

Darcy Blyth

Taryn Hubbard

Paige Ferguson

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Contributor Notes 46-47

cover, 4, 30-31

10-11

16-17

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contextawesomeinterestingcreationanythingprofoundcreativeexpressionflowingunknownimaginativeinternalthinkingchallengeexpressioninterestingfunfreedomcareadventurousconfessingweirdchoicespontaneoustransitiondirtycurse wordsdiverseinterestingconcrete jungleplace horriblelovelydamphomecityunfortunateover-populatedcoolcommunityhomeconcrete jungleplace horriblehomedirtytransitioninternalspontaneousfuncityinterestingconfessingunknowncareexpressioncurse wordscreativeadventurousinterestingchallengelovely

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Welcome to Surrey!by Oliver Ferland

Cloverdale, FleetwoodGuildford, NewtonSouth Surrey, Whalleydiverse, arts, culture, historycrack, meth, hoes, heroindepending on how you look at it.

It’s all a mystery.Wavepool waterslidestake you for a rideYet outside the doors it’s just morein a place so meanthe trees stay greensandy beaches, farmsthey cause no harmunlike that needle in your arm.

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It Got Burnt DoWnby Cheyenne Shouting

West Whalley was located on 132 and 104.But, many years ago it got burntdown. There’s a legend that one of theteachers who worked there is the one whoburnt it down. People say she was sortacrazy. Now there’s a new high school thereand it’s called Kwantlen Park.

Now at Kwantlen Park, the teachersare telling us how it got burnt down.There’s so many different stories , Ican’t remember.

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In Surreyby Damian Cheveldave

Vaisakhi in Surreyin hisis really stovepipevery wacky hatdamp and atthe festival he hunted stars.

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mother WeIGhS Water hereby Kaitlyn Taylor

Here she grew weighta point surrounds her flat skininto dust deep scrapsthirty thirst herewater themhouseplants lucky herequick disaster eyes filters softglass gleam underwaterwhen lakes friends packed bridle mothersmeet stilettos togethersbubble-kisses sleepy lightmothers bodies wave thrilled half-swimmingwhipped rhythm haze slowspath sunless chopped monthsnow unsalted we washlean petals saddles colourless musclesdripping heat with strain sea-scent dig watching bank without thrustmother firm beaching stirrup bath muddy sharewater moon light tugs possible oceanbeast land can already swimmother weighs water here.

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the olDer DaySby Travis Girard

In the past we saw a brighter side of things.From new roads and sidewalks glistening with lights warmwithsafety. Its night twins to day workers come out.Workers of stores lingering everywhereas the day brightens and progresses intoa beautiful scarlet night.

Time progresses on and we come intothe era that has lost its way with technology,and buildings. The children usedto play but now they’re stuck indoorshypnotized by T.V. and technology as forbuildings I see nothing more than a singleleaf in my palm with tears from an eye,like when a loved one has died.

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Nisha Sandhu

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Taken after the Surrealists, we each wrote two lines of a poem, folded over the top line and passed it along for the next poet to write two more lines. With only the last line to write from, what results is a series of collaborative collages that think about Surrey.

exquisite corpse

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PerformInG aSPhaltan exquisite collaboration

Reflect strategy for the futuremetro, urban, rural and remoteit’s like a snake flowing out of your tanktaking its chance of world wide financial feedthe tall towers of glassmade of steel and concreteI sometimes just sit on it so I’m not boredbut concrete is old and I feel no needasphalt is being poured over the depths of this citylike time is improving and fastpeople continue into towndown river banks continue driving fast as they could.

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Glory/DreamSan exquisite collaboration

If only a hard and fast rule:stay on one side of King George Highwaywait for the oncoming busthe daily loopwait for the opening bus doorsand step outside onto agrey sidewalk rain beat.Street sign reads: Hooker Crossing. Chocolate rainno fun it keeps tolive and die without painthe bittersweet revenge of hatedevours every pathetic symphonytowards what is consciously known to be Surrey with all its glory and dreams from hookerto drugged out we are the condemneddoomed to spend time in empty city lotswhere the waste and debris of dreams lie.

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the looPan exquisite collaboration

Wash over a perspectivefor a breakthrough SkyTrain Stationthe flash of lights enlightened my eyesto the whereabouts of my destinationlike an angel’s flight I go straight in for my killover a mouse to feed my fill through a tunnelpast flooded fieldsthat threaten newly paved roadsI yell at them to get them to movebut they just stare!they look back and forth with eyesas the time keeps onlike a crazed SkyTrainsliding off tracks of what’s normal?Soundtrack to Sound of Music, movieEdward Scissorhands electrictoe fungus.

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tracInG the fraSeran exquisite collaboration

That’s difficult. One timebygone and a relatively slow laneget me some mad hat sunin the sky where the lost soulsnever die just like those in the mind body and heartwhere a home is builtsurrounded by evergreensto purify depthslike trying to see a reflectionin a dark lake with rimsshimmering with every light that hits as the slowflowing Fraser passes beneaththe cranes and cables of a newbridge we, in fact, unstableand fringed no one knew butall the pictures are collectedto keep in their memoriesgood or bad.

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Darcy Blyth

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BeautIfy the lanDScaPeby Paige Ferguson

Green spacesby concrete transitparks nearbyto beautifycars, trucks, busestraffic flowstop and gocorner marketsmoney lendersoften more than coke venderspretty lifebut look twicefriends meet new ones greetingold strangerscreating dangersstay on the sidewalkjust as a car wouldn’t hit you there:properly listen.

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Surreyby David Garratt

Hour to hour, day to dayit’s unclear if this city stays the sameon my way to school, the mall is quietas I return the vast crowds never tirethat mall employees never differbut no customer is the samethe gloom of the weather faltersbut the clouds steal the sun awayI smell the rain on the concreteand like before am on my way.

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the ProBlemby Rebecca Belgrove

Here’s the place where I grew upat times it can be beautifulbut mostly it’s uglyit seems smallbut feels so bigevery year theweather gets coldthe people seem to getcolder.

The problem is changebut, also, the lack of change.

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San JoSeby David Ellison

I was born in San Francisco but grew up in San Jose.

San Francisco has the Niners, and well after I left, San Jose got the Sharks, which is funny because San Jose isn’t even on the Bay and the closest it comes to salt water is the mud flats of Alviso.

San Jose is where I grew up. It’s where I learned to drive on the backwaters of Los Gatos, where I had my first job working in the stockroom of a Jewish giftware store.

My best memories are of driving with the windows down at the midnight of summer. The heat and smell of asphalt lingering. This was as cool as it was ever going to get.

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you cannot contaIn me (move to the muSIc)by Nisha Sandhu

I don’t know if I’ll everconsent, subside to the conformitycontent in this realityyou have transposed for me.

I will neversubside to the conformityor be happyin this realityyou have transposed for me.

In this societyliving is easier with eyes closed.

Could it be the eyesof random passer-bysor the gradual demiseof all our sunny skies?

In this concrete jungle,you’ll find insatiable hunger,greed, lies, and lust forwhat, we are unsure.

Watch how they condemn us.

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In this concrete jungle,you’ll find insatiable hunger,greed, lies, and lust forwhat, we are unsure.

Could it be the eyesof random passer-bysor the eventual demiseof all our sunny skies?

Yet, I’m happier than I could ever bewith the conformityin this realityyou have transposed for me.

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the Gameby Graham Palframan

People act like we’re in a game yet things don’t really work like that if you get shot there’s no fairy to heal youdamaging yourself isn’t aseasy to see as heartsdisappearing from your screenwhen you steal from someonethey can’t just go and findsomething to replace it in a treasure chestthere are no retries orsecond chances, once you’redone it’s a permanent game over.

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Surreyby Sara McDonnell

Shoes on wires!The tight-rope walkers fell.

Lights and gas, thesmell of home.

I see trees behind, grow tallerwith each step.

Monsters made of asphalt atethem.

Am I allowed to know?

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Surreyby Darcy Blyth

Corroded buildingstowers mirroring off one anotherthe odd green fielddampcrumblingthe forests disappearlights sprout from concrete foundationsstars driven away by burning street lightsdogs in the parknature on TVwalking in the darkshadowscreeping figuresmeow.

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you BeautIful, lIarby Roxanne Hawkes

Ego through the roof.quarterback, Surrey Community Football.

Bears?

not so much, I have trouble, consuming your ever-so-intense presence, like the sweat seeping through a man’s skin, you are ever, so, salty.

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Brush my hair and pull, call me Jane,call me a tool, drugs from Surrey streets aredirty, but you, I, we still need it. Influencemy life with stolen bikes and never ending crackprescription drugs and methadone. The downs never getyou low enough, and the ups never get you high enough. high low my friends, how are you, thank you for your attendance today.

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1 is too many and 1,000 is never enough. Keeptelling yourself that, honey. Because I think5,000 is never enough.

The drugs in this town are fucking with everyone’sheads. The clouds of smoke, coming fromcorners of the strip, the ripped pants, no pants,of your dealer’s new, clean, 400 dollar pants.

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I moveD hereby Jonathan Rempel

I am an immigrant here, too—here from the emptifull fieldsof impossibly small town Manitobafrom gothic cathedrals and historic free for all Europefrom idyllic fields of Langleythat get lost in the Robson Streets, the East Hastings Streets, the Sea-to-Sky’s.

I moved here with all theugly jokes andgruesome newspaper stories andslander andsneershead vying for the prime-real estateat the forefront of my mind.

I moved here.

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KInG GeorGe BlvD. @ 72nD Streetby Chris Pettigrew

walkpast the bus stop Newtonwhen will it stop addictedback to the stop free smokesHey, look, one of those people I used to know“got any smokes?” “No.”OH, come one, makin’ me frown sun comes up, always goes downthe song that’s been playin’ in the back of my headeats eats eats away, my soul—what a day,eh?

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the newspaperWe called them newspaper blackout poems. The following poems happen when a Sharpie is taken to the online news.

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the lanDKaitlyn Taylor

Flickering street lightsvehicles flood along Fraser Highwaysplitting youth suspicious neighbourhoodsfast food loungespretty houses with pretty flowersugly basements with marijuanaburnt street lightstoddlers jailed in playgroundsjunkie wonderlandsmiddle class wastelandsalmost a free landLower Mainland

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vIctorIaby Sara McDonnell

after the Victoria Order Nurses

Vicky & Margarette are working away on their papers. Vicky is tothe left with her humble smile and Margarette is amusedby the attention, but not fond of it.

They discuss dinner ideas and both come to the decision ofpotatoes, mashed.

Their minds wander to tomorrow and the shade of lipstickthey will bare.

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a DIfferent Storyby Darcy Blyth

The same old pathwe all walked the samebut before each eyewas a story of our ownthrough each eyea different Surrey is known.

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WalKInGby Paige Ferguson

Athletic Parktownhouses x 2detached homesattached homestraffic lightbuttonChevronMcDonaldsTim HortonssushiSubwayTD Bankskateparkhillgo upWired Monkleft turncharacter homescharacter homespathsHillcrest Elementaryfield of grasspark,hang at dark

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our factSby Oliver Ferland

This land is plagued with heroin and crackit’s a factI walk with it at my backOh look! Another crack shack.Even with all the negativityanimositypushing us away from unityI still keep my smilefor a whilein this land so vilethe trees, so tallyet they will fallby the hands of the greedywho don’t care about the needyover population ever growinghomeless, even when snowingpeople, overworkedgetting markedfor their changeyet there is no changeno matter how hard we tryeventually we die.It’s a fact.

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hereby Graham Palframan

nowhere

nowhere

nowhere

nowhere

nowhere

nowhere

nowhere

nowhere

nowhere

anywhere but here

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contributor bios

contextawesomeinterestingcreationanythingprofoundcreativeexpressionflowingunknownimaginativeinternalthinkingchallengeexpressioninterestingfunfreedomcareadventurousconfessingweirdchoicespontaneoustransitiondirtycurse wordsdiverseinterestingconcrete jungleplace horriblelovelydamphomecityunfortunateover-populatedcoolcommunityhomeconcrete jungleplace horriblehomedirtytransitioninternalspontaneousfuncityinterestingconfessing

cheyenne ShoutInG is a 16-year-old who likes hanging out with friends.

chrIS PettIGreW enjoys reading.

DamIen chevelDave likes music and reading.

Darcy Blyth is an artist.

DavID ellISon is a teacher at Newton Learning Centre.

DavID Garratt notices the little things.

Grahan Palframan plays hacky-sack and listens to a lot of Nirvana.

Johnathan remPel is a teacher at North Surrey Learn-ing Centre.

KaItlyn taylor’s favou-rite poet is Charles Bukowski. One day she’d like to own and run her own coffee shop. She blogs at iamhumanwaste.tumblr.com

nISha SanDhu is interested in Bob Marley, Led Zepplin, and Jimi Hendrix.

olIver ferlanD is inter-ested in native culture, and appreciates poetry and art.

PaIGe ferGuSon lives more in the summer than the fall

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reBecca BelGrove is a student in SD36 and enjoys hanging out with friends.

roxanne haWKeS likes to write.

Sara mcDonnell ap-preciates the sky and the sea, and prefers exploring nature rather than being indoors.

taryn huBBarD is a writer and editor. She blogs at tarynhubbard.blogspot.com

travIS GIrarD is working on a manuscript about teen-age zombie slayers.

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doing the work

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��made in Surrey, B.C.