POETRY & MUSIC PROJECT
24/25
Opera Omaha’s Poetry & Music Project is produced in partnership with:
Additional partners include:
Funding provided by:
POETRY & MUSIC PROJECT
Now in its 8th year, the Poetry & Music Project connects student writers and their words with composers to create original scores and explore the connections between poetry and music.
In Fall 2024, Opera Omaha and the Nebraska Writers Collective invited students from Nebraska and Iowa to submit works of poetry on the theme “My Neighborhood.” Throughout the fall over 200 elementary, middle, and high school students took part in NWC led Poetry & Music writing workshops focused on helping students to add musicality to their poetry.
For the 24/25 Project, Opera Omaha received 66 poem submission from students across Nebraska inspired by the theme “My Neighborhood.” Opera Omaha requested poems that explored how even though we all may be Nebraskans or Iowans, where we come from still has a profound effect on who we are; asking poets to think deeply about what community means to them and how it is formed. Poets ranged from second graders to high school juniors, including first time poets and seasoned writers.
While there were many outstanding poems submitted to the project, in the end, project composer Sidney Marquez Boquiren and hip-hop artist Lite Pole selected 13 poems that inspired them to create original music with the poems as the lyrics.
In Spring 2025, poets and composers along with project pianist, Opera Omaha Head of Music Josh Quinn, and Opera Omaha singers gathered for workshops to collaborate on the original pieces of music. These workshops were a magnificent inspiration for the composers and singers as the students participated in the collaborative process of molding the pieces into their final form through thoughtful questions and energetic responses. These pieces premiered with a concert on May 3, 2025, at the Omaha Conservatory of Music and via livestream. Recordings of these songs are available on Opera Omaha’s website.
The book includes every poem submitted, and represents a nearly nine month-long labor of love with countless hours of work put in by students, educators, composers, singers, pianist, and staff from Opera Omaha and the Nebraska Writers Collective.
6 "Footsteps" by Nora Barth
7 "Fowler Street" by M Bonar
8 "Heart of the Town" by Michaela Brown
9 "Neighbor Behavior" by Addi Bryan
10 "Our Beautiful Neighborhood" by Rishi Chundury
11 "My Neighborhood" by Madison Dornbusch
12 "The Original Denny's" by Maren Ferguson
13 "Flying Home" by Aalyn Friesz
14 "Seasons in North Omaha" by Adeline Olsen
15 "In the land of unknown" by Shevaani Rajith Varman Janani
16 "De Donde Soy" by Galen Ruiz
18 "Invisible to Us" by Madelynn Torson
19 "Omaha’s Embrace" by Jackson Ward
ALL POEM SUBMISSIONS
20 "Mi Honduras" by Zoe Amador Chavez
21 "My Friends" by Summer Archer
22 "In My Neighborhood" by Ashlyn Bae
23 "Nebraska City Is New" by Kendall Bailey
24 "Hayward is my Second Home" by Braelynn Behrens
25 "My View of Our Town" by Brylee Behrens
26 "My Neighborhood, City, and State" by Charlie Beranek
27 "My Neighborhood" by Isabela Bernabe
28 "My small Town" by Sofia Bernabe
29 "Wherever You Look" by Olivia Boord
30 "De Donde Soy" by Camila Briseño
32 "I love 4 things, School, Food, Sports, and Fish" by Atlas Childers
33 "Shared" by All" by Reeya Chundury
34 "The Pieces of My Neighborhood" by McKinley Coe
35 "This is My Home" by Raven Cranny
36 "My Scary Day" by Willa Davis
37 "My Cool Neighborhood" by Eli DeLunger
38 "My cool neighborhood" by Mateo Dominguez
39 "Cottonwood Leaf" by Sage Doubet
40 "Sonnet for Home" by Julie Ewing
41 "People That Come" by Ivanna Felix Hincapie
42 "My City" by Jade Garner
43 "In My Neighborhood" by Anushka Gupta
44 "Apple City!" by Adrian Gurrola
45 "From Rejection to Belonging" by Keely Halm
46 "The Best Town" by McKenzie Heng
47 "Nebraska City Parts" by Finley Hill
48 "Red Brick Road" by Honor Hopkins
49 "Nevertheless" by Emelia Howell
50 "My Neighborhood" by Frankie Jordan
51 "Artistic!" by Jaxson Knapp
52 "My Neighborhood" by Zoey Koeller
53 "Our Little Town" by Lily Kraft
54 "Before Nebraska" by Evelyn Long
55 "Broken" by Olivia Merchant
56 "The Forest Creature" by Swift Moriarty
57 "Death of a Home" by Killian O’Lone
58 "My Neighborhood" by Minnette Palmer
59 "My Beautiful Town" by Angelique Paredes
60 "I like my town" by Cooper Rufy
61 "Welcome To Arbor Lodge" by Willow Ryan
62 "My Town" by Jaxton Scharp
63 "My Football Team In The Neighborhood" by Timothy Shaw
64 "I’m From…" by Lydia Taylor
65 "My Neighborhood" by Flora Thomas
66 "The Neighborhood" by Leo Thomas
67 "Untitled" by Alice Tripp
68 "The Seasons" by Liam Van Sant
69 "Nebraska City" by Gwenneth Walker
70 "Our town is a Community" by Joshua Walters
71 "My community is always happy" by Lexi Weale
72 "Explaining my blackness" by MajieAhna Winfrey
73 "Which Neighborhood Do I Live In?" by Andrea Zimmerman
Footsteps
By Nora Barth
Already in the distant past Lay deep footprints And sled tracks In the snow, long-melted, From our childhood.
Our world was made of doorbells and porches bare feet on warm concrete Adventures across backyards up and down the block.
It was never meant to last, though moving trucks come and go only we remain hunched over in dark rooms our faces illuminated By blue light our bikes stored away, the sleds forgotten.
Red leaves, rainy days The birds flew south together They left the trees— Their homes— And so will we The real question, then is what kind of memories we’ll be bringing with us.
Years from now, Perhaps a new doorbell and a creaking porch will remind us where our hearts were formed— Over the fence on the swing begging as the sun set for ten more minutes in the streets That now echo with our footsteps.
Fowler Street
By M Bonar
I met an old man on Fowler, his cane wobbled underneath his froggy hands and his legs looked like they were held together by rubber bands He rambled on about sorry men, and the little old house with an address that starts with ten and the new complexjust down the street where the brand new tech rushes to be obsolete and the pigeon place, where the well-meaning ten wish their little goodbyes to their pets.
I met an old man on Fowler, his head was heartily wrinkled like the wilting pink flowers that were never really sprinkled by waterthat kept their color alive, and now their roots can’t pick what they need to survive because this nice little place, where happy kids used to race down the paved gray streets with little bikes, and where they used to complain when their fake swords had spikes and splinters, this nice little place that was once a home is now filled with neat-trimmed grass and garden gnomes.
I met an old man on Fowler, I saw in his eyes the blueberry pies we used to give the new ones in town, that we used to celebrate even when we were down, the ones that are gone now that the city took notice, of a small little plot that looked like a big dollar sign for the city-wide bonus.
Heart of the Town
By Michaela Brown
In our town, the sun shines bright, Every face a friendly light. Hand and hand, we walk this way, In our community, joy will stay.
Smiles and kindness all around, In this place, love is found. Together, we build and dream, In our heart, lies a radiant gleam.
Neighbor Behavior
By Addi Bryan
The girl across the street is turning cartwheels in the heat
The mischievous boy right down the lane is romping in the mud when it rains
The girl next door is shooting hoops sweating, she needs ice cream, two scoops
The parents across the driveway are blowing kisses to their three year old, making wishes
The kid on the corner jumps on her trampoline flipping quietly, never seen
I gaze out the window at my neighborhood and I think it has everything it should.
Our Beautiful Neighborhood
By Rishi Chundury
Within the quiet streets we dwell, Where echoes of children’s laughter resonate. Each paved path yearns a tale to tell, The happiness could be captured in a blank slate.
Food trucks line the streets with scents of lands afar, Conversations bloom in the paved paths and enchanted parks. A mural blossoms where a stone wall once stood, a hidden reservoir, Parents communicate with one another while speaking under their dog’s barks.
The corner store glows bright with evening trade, Neon reflections dance as deals are fulfilled. Teenagers glide down the bright streets on their rollerblades, Points are played at the local tennis court as the players are skilled.
This neighborhood, alive with a burning fire, Transforms the mundane to what we aspire.
My Neighborhood
By Maddie Dornbusch
The little house I play in
The little circle I live on
And the little neighborhood I grew up in
I remember the laughter of my friends
I remember every freshly baked cookie from my grandma's house
I remember the sweet summer air
The friendly smiles
The bike rides
The dogs barking from each house
The sunny days and the wind flowing through my hair
No matter how old or young
No matter how small or big
People still cared for one another
The Original Denny’s
By Maren Ferguson
Denny’s is a restaurant that is known to all, But the restaurant is not the Denny’s I recall. A kindly man lives at the peak of the circle I call home. His smile is always a comfort to anyone who will roam, Throughout our circle and streets the kids all know his name, For Denny threw the best ice cream parties and everybody came.
I was small and often times in the summer, Denny would ask me to be his runner. I’d go house to house and announce the occasion, Of the impending ice cream invasion.
Then Denny with his wondrous smile would set up a table, And anyone could come if they were able. Any kid on the street could get some ice cream.
Denny would smile and if you said please, He would give you two scoops or maybe even three. So to me it seems quite clear that the original Denny’s started right here.
Flying Home
By Aalyn Friesz
On any dark and empty night My neighborhood gives me light And every house and every tree Is a special place for me Where memories take flight
Seasons in North Omaha
By Adeline Olsen
Springtime in the North is like a melody in my heart. Dewdrops on daisies, the calm and quiet dark. Summer in the North is light falling on my face. Summer brings warmth, happiness and grace. My neighbors in autumn, the kind and silent type. The crisp air blows when the apples are ripe. A cold and freezing winter is nothing in compare To a heart that’s full of joy, and good feelings everywhere. When spring’s song comes again, I smell small buds, still curled. And smile at my family, my neighborhood, my world.
In the land of unknown
By Shevaani Rajith Varman Janani
In the land of unknown,
We can find the way which is so different
Leaving behind crowds like a swarming beehive
Foreign words fill every day which makes a headache
Also tried and heavy it’s hard to listen
It’s uncomfortable but I can manage it
I am alone and separated by the wall of words Skies are same but miss my friends and families
Also, my school memories which we sit together and eat lunch by sharing our rice
Which was unique and cute but can’t get it back
Miss a bunch of cultural festival like Pongal,
Which was celebrated 4 days long with worship god with belief and love
I am so happy that my family reunited
It is good to be here so I can learn English much better
My classmates & teachers are kind and helpful
Learning new vocabulary like belated, extinguish etc.
What would you do if you were going to a new place?
¿De Donde Soy?
By Gelen Ruiz
En el corazón de Sudamérica brilla Colombia, La tierra de mil colores, Donde el café danza en la orilla, Y el viento susurra entre los amores.
Colombia es pasión, es sabor y alegría, Un abrazo sincero en cada mirada; En sus paisajes se siente la vida, Un país que al mundo enamora.
Cartagena con su encanto colonial, Bogotá que respira modernidad, Medellin renace en un ciclo triunfal, Y el llano extiende su inmensidad.
En el trópico radiante, donde el sol se despereza, Colombia se levanta con un canto de belleza, Desde el Caribe Azul con sus playas doradas, Hasta el Amazon verde, donde la vida es sagrada.
En Barranquilla, el carnaval estalla en colores, Música y danzas en un mar de amores.
Cumbia y vallenato resuenan en cada esquina, Unidos en la fiesta, la alegría se adivina.
Las esmeraldas brillan como estrellas robadas, Tesoros de la tierra en manos delicadas. Medellín florece con su gente valiente, Transformando el dolor en un futuro latente.
O Colombia amada, tu espiritu es eterno, En cada paso firme, tu esencia es un tierno, Con paisajes que abrazan y corazones abiertos, Te celebro en versos sinceros y ciertos.
Where I’m From?
By Gelen Ruiz
In the heart of South America Colombia shines, The land of a thousand colors, Where coffee dances on the shore, And the wind whispers amongst the love.
Colombia is passion, it is flavor and joy, A sincere embrace in every glance; In its landscapes you can feel life, A country that enchants the world.
Cartagena with its colonial charm, Bogotá that breathes modernity, Medellin is reborn in a triumphant cycle, And the plain extends its immensity.
In the radiant tropics, where the sun stretches, Colombia rises with a song of beauty, From the Blue Caribbean with its golden beaches, To the green Amazon, where life is sacred.
In Barranquilla, the carnival explodes in colors, Music and dances in a sea of love. Cumbia and vallenato resonate in every corner, United in parties, joy is everywhere.
The emeralds shine like stolen stars, Treasures of the earth in delicate hands. Medellín flourishes with its brave people, Transforming pain into a latent future.
Oh beloved Colombia, your spirit is eternal, In each firm step, your essence is tender, With landscapes that embrace and open hearts, I celebrate you through sincere and true verses.
Invisible to Us
By Madelynn Torson
You may see us In the park, and On the street, and In the shadows.
You may see us, pushing A cart, of All we have, and you Look away. Either you‘re Guilty Of looking at us, or You wrinkle your nose.
We’re mostly Invisible, Mostly. It‘s only when you See us at the store, or Next to you, Actually there, That you Yell, or edge away.
As if we‘re animals. Things.
And all that hate, we start to wonder Aren‘t we people too?
But it‘s when we see The smiles of Children, Happy to give To us, we Maybe think we can be seen again.
Omaha’s Embrace
By Jackson Ward
By the banks of the mighty Missouri flow, Omaha stands, where dreams still grow. A city of strength, of heart, of cheer, Where past and present intertwine so near.
From Old Market's charm, cobblestones greet, To bustling parks where families meet. The warmth of neighbors, a steady light, Guiding through day and into night.
The skyline rises, bold and true, Yet whispers of prairie still filter through. With art, with culture, and fields of gold, Omaha's spirit is quietly bold.
Through winter's chill and summer's heat, Community thrives on every street. With open arms, it welcomes all, In Omaha's heart, no one stands small.
Here roots run deep, here futures soar, A city of hope forevermore.
Omaha's story, a tale well spun, A tapestry woven by everyone.
Mi Honduras
By Zoe Amador Chavez
Mi honduras gente carismática.
Tierra fértitil.
Donde podía disfrutar
De un bello atardecer
Donde puedo disfrutar
Parte de mi nińez.
Donde el amanecer
Despertaba con cantos de los gallos así era mi barrio donde pude
Disfrutar parte de mi niñez.
Donde quedara siempre
Presente la humildad
De la hermosa Gente con la que conviví.
My Friends
By Summer Archer
Lily always brings a smile to my face Arianna makes me smile with grace I pay them with kindness everyday They love to be my friends they say Gracelynn always makes me happy too These are my friends…just a few
In my neighborhood
By Ashlyn Bae
In my neighborhood, Children
Play all day
Climbing--
Climbing trees in the summer
The bruise-Hills in the winter it’s from climbing
In my neighborhood, Adults
Wave to one another
While they brew their morning coffee, “Isn’t the weather nice today?” collect their forgotten mail, “Did you get a haircut?” prepare their children “Rambunctious, aren’t they?” for another day of school, Questions get dressed About everything for work themselves, But the screaming last night, mow the lawn the police car on a hot July afternoon still parked out front
In my neighborhood—
In my neighborhood?
The ice cream truck
The children gather
Still comes around
All except one
Clutching one dollar bills
No one questions
Hoping they have enough why
Nebraska City Is New
By Kendall Bailey
Dear old Nebraska City, this town. It is good as new like the beautiful gown. But I live in the country and see bees. This is the city that has trees.
Hayward Is My Second Home
By Braelynn Behrens
Students in my school, We are all so kind. We are important as a jewel, We all have a creative mind.
Not all of us are tall, We always play with all. Not all of us are small, Sometimes we fall.
My View Of Our Town
By Brylee Behrens
We’re a community! We have a lot of people. We live in Nebraska City. We have a teacher named Mrs. Kiekel. She is a fourth-grade teacher. Everyone here has different features!
My Neighborhood, City, and State
By Charlie Beranek
I’m born and raised In the Cornhusker State No time to debate About my state
Papillion is my home town ‘Til the sun goes down There is no place more old town Than my city’s downtown
My teams are Huskers, Vikings, and Chiefs They aren’t falling like our leaves You’ve got to see and believe What we’ve got up our sleeve
Sarpy, Douglas, what’s the difference No matter what mayor we have, we’ve got independence We’ve got no time for ignorance With a lot of innocence
My neighborhood, city, and state We can certainly appreciate That we know how to create Right here in Nebraska, my state
My neighborhood
By Isabela Bernabe
My neighborhood is the quietest I have lived in no one talks to each other we are all like strangers.
Everyone are adults and serious the only time we talk to people is when the mail comes and we thank them
The one spot that is always loud after every after one is the spot down next to our backyard everyone there is loud well at least some teens
And some after none we see people skate down our street or people walking their dogs. We can hear cars racing or just burning there wheels in the high way sometimes we ahead thing like bombs but it’s a really safe neighborhood we just don’t know were those sound comes from
My small town
By Sofia Bernabe Jacinto
My small town, It deserves a crown, There are good and bad people, But everybody is equal.
Wherever You Look
By Olivia Boord
People line the streets, they walk and talk
You see children doodling with sidewalk chalk. Kids swing from the trees, open and free.
One day, they’ll grow, This you know, they’ll move away, but not before they hear you say: Wherever else you roam, this will be your home. Wherever else you look, this place will always be your perfect storybook.
The colors will flourish, the plants will be nourished. This place will always be yours. Oh, won’t you play some more? Don’t put that sign up in your yard, oh, please say you won’t go far. You lock your doors, But I’ll say it once more: Wherever else you look, you’ll always have a place in this book.
De Donde Soy
Camila Briseño
Durango, Durango Capital
De religion catolica cristiana
Durango, Durango ciudad colonial
Bendita tierra Mexicana
Orgulloso patrimonio cultural
Eres cuna de Pancho Villa
Tierra tan bendita, tierra celestial
De comunidad amable y sencilla
O Durango mi tierra natal
Valle del Guadiana, tu primer nombre oficial
Diste a México el primer presidente nacional
Lleno de gente ilustre esta tu historial
Olvidarte o no extrañarte sería un pecado
Mas hay del agua tu significado
Eres parte de mi futuro y mi pasado
En ti se encuentra el gran cerro del mercado
Soy de la tierra de los alacranes
Cultura de leyendas y refranes
Donde pa el frío usamos gabanes
Y recibimos en lindos zaguanes
Llamarte tierra del cine es correcto
Tierra llena de costumbres y de afecto
Eres tierra de caudillos, de gente de respeto
Cada que te pienso, volver a ti prometo
Por las noches yo recuerdo ese cerro
Y por supuesto tu hermosa catedral
Las moreras, magnífica capital
Afectuos me despido Durango Capital
Where I'm From
Camila Briseño
Durango, capital Durango
Of Christian Catholic religion
Durango, colonial city Durango
Blessed Mexican land
Proud cultural heritage
You are the birthplace of Pancho Villa Land so blessed, heavenly land Of a friendly and simple community
Oh Durango my homeland
Guadiana Valley, your first official name You gave Mexico its first national president Your history is full of illustrious people
To forget you or not miss you would be a sin But your meaning is beyond water You are part of my future and my past In you lies the great hill of the market
I am from the land of scorpions
Culture of legends and proverbs
Where we wear overcoats for the cold And we receive them in beautiful halls
Calling you the land of cinema is correct Land full of customs and affection
You are the land of leaders, of people of respect Every time I think of you, I promise to return
At night I remember that hill
And of course your beautiful cathedral
The mulberry trees, magnificent capital Affectionately, I say goodbye to Durango Capital
I love 4 things, School, Food, Sports and Fish.
By Atlas Childers
School is cool, We like to fool.
Food is not rude, Do you hear me dude. Sometimes sports are on courts, Sometimes fish, Need a big dish.
Shared by All
By Reeya Chundury
It all begins with spring
The flowers blooming in their vibrant colors
We harmonize with the birds that sing And awaken to a beautiful breeze
The children start to delight As the days become long lasting and bright
Surprise, the season of summer has arrived Now the houses are lit in a golden glow We prove that our happiness survived And the warmth brings our families together
Then the trees start to shed their leaves And we all begin to roll down our sleeves
Is it fall or autumn that has just appeared Neighbors decorate their porches in a crispy amber Halloween night is everything we feared And we all carve pumpkins and feast on pie
But the rustling winds quickly become bitter And we start to see a frost-kissed glitter
At last winter has brought a glacial beauty
We share eggnog, gingerbread, and spicy peppermints Roasting chestnuts becomes an exciting duty And the year comes to an icy end
The Pieces of My Neighborhood
By McKinley Coe
Something to remember Is the tender look of the children's books across the street at the place where I remember the faces of Those people with their friendly looks.
I used to see the make-believe at Harrison Elementary.
Now that was only one aspect of my comfort place, And no one would suspect what would come next.
All those places, All those faces, are only a part of my street.
This is my neighborhood. The faces, places and innocent looks on children's books where I went Almost every day, for seven years. Now this is the part that will stay in my heart, for seven more years to come.
This is My Home
By Raven Cranny
Everything I am is here–
When I was 10, I learned the meaning of “state pride”
Wearing crimson red and stark white every Saturday, And smelling the hops of the beer my dad used to brew with my uncle in the garage. I remember the chants of “Go Big Red” at the television as I sat on the lawn picking the dandelion’s soft tufts from the green of the grass with my best friends. This is my home.
Here you sit, with me on the lawn, Still smelling the faint sickly scent of booze, Even though my uncle no longer comes around after his motorcycle accident, And even though our red and white hasn't won a game in over ten years; We have the dandelions fitted into flower crowns even seven years later. These weeds accent your dyed hair and my brownish-green eyes
As the afternoon breeze whips against you
Like an insecure lover not wanting you to leave.
I don’t want you to leave, This is my home.
When I was thirteen I learned the meaning of state pride, As suburbs in Omaha turned red with the color of our collective blood, With the color of my blood, Because even though our team hasn't ranked in five years, I bleed red
Like I had to relearn what color spills from my veins. Like you had to see it to believe,
That I am still truly made of the corn that grows in our endless fields, and made of the malt my dad used to make his alcohol with. A truly midwestern thing, This is my home.
My home is so many things, Yet also one thing simultaneously, It is the place where I learned how to walk, talk, and pray, It is the place I learned how to live, and act like I was living
When I was truly dying in this Nebraska suburb, Becuase when I was sixteen I remember dreaming of leaving this place, Where red meets yellow, And I see myself in the dandelions and corn we used to pick, And I realized that all I am, is a weed to be picked, Then made into something else.
Omaha is where I went to die, But I still loved it anyway, Because this was my home.
My Scary Day
By Willa Davis
In a house one evening, a boy and a girl ate their supper. Suddenly, the tornado alert went off!
Five people went in to the basement! I was so scared, I almost cried!
My Bible was upstairs, My desk was upstairs, My camera was too!
After the “mini hurricane,” Everything looked different.
There were less trees, We got so many acorns, and the tree next to our house fell over!
And we helped get if off the neighbor’s house.
My Cool Neighborhood
By Eli DeLunger
Hayward is so cool, Hayward is a school. Hayward is such fun, I really love to run. I am a nerd, I love birds. I am so lazy, I love daisies. I love trees, I love bees. I love pop, I can go to the top.
My cool neighborhood
By Mateo Dominguez
My neighborhood is kind
Most of the kids are nine
My neighborhood is cool
My neighborhood has cool tools
Cottonwood Leaf
By Sage Doubet
Cottonwood leaf, Sparkles in the sun, Dances with the breeze,
Oh, Cottonwood leaf. Up so high, Watching me grow Down below, Like a tiny ant at its feet.
Always there, always home, Watching over our neighborhood, Watching me, Seeing all.
Till fall comes With trumpets blazing, Painting leaves red and yellow, Announcing to us, that it is a time for rest, A time for peace.
But cottonwood leaf, Cottonwood leaf is caught in a gale, Glittering golden, Tumbling through the sky, So free, so high, Seeing life in new ways, Opening its mind To awe, to wonder.
Till the gusts soften, Cottonwood leaf floats, Gliding down Towards worlds unknown, Towards me.
A Sonnet For Home
By Julie Ewing
cars driving down our small busy street the sound of clinking glasses from bars
Where our intricate mural is neat on so many different walls, colorful bright stars
And it travels from this game to that game
And the flowers, when they grow, oh, they grow It is always changing, never the same
You never know, stick with the status quo
I find our neighborhood so breathtaking
Though the trash clutters the bushes and yards
And the leaves, when they fall, so heartbreaking
To see the glasses and bottles from bars
Intoxicating, from where we shall roam
Writing that captures us, Sonnet for Home
People That Come
By Ivanna Felix Hincapie
My Neighborhood is always busy Sometimes it makes me dizzy New people come every year They come from far and near
My City
By Jade Garner
My city is cool, So, I love my school. Mom likes the park, But, not when it’s dark.
In My Neighborhood
By Anushka Gupta
I live in a place where the parks are near, A neighborhood full of love and cheer. It’s safe and joyful, comfort all around, With friendly faces, peace can be found.
My neighbors are kind, they wave hello, Together we make the streets aglow. The sound of laughter fills the air, A place where everyone truly cares.
I feel at home, I feel at peace, In this great place, my worries cease. The days are bright, the nights are calm, Wrapped in the neighborhood’s gentle charm.
The streets are lined with trees so green, The houses are cozy, and the gardens serene. Children’s laughter echoes in the park, And every evening leaves a lasting spark.
The local shops are always busy, Offering everything, warm and fizzy. The cafe’s warm, we laugh and share, In this neighborhood, life’s without a care.
The sun sets low, the stars shine bright, This neighborhood feels just right. Neighbors gather, and families unite, Creating memories in the soft moonlight.
With friends by my side and love all around, In this place, my heart’s unbound. We share our stories, our hopes, and dreams, Our lives are woven into one endless stream.
Neighbors help each other, side by side, In this community, we all take pride. In this neighborhood, I am free, A perfect place for you and me.
In the mornings, we greet the dawn, With the strength of love, we carry on. Through every season, we stand tall, In this neighborhood, there’s room for all.
Apple City!
By Adrian Gurrola
Apple picking is the best. But I hate the pests. But I feel like I’m going to destroy a nest. In this orchard I’m a guest. But apple picking is still the best.
From Rejection to Belonging
By Keely Halm
Up the sprout sprung Taking its first breath
So excited to be born
Excitement bubbling out Wait. Stop.
Graffiti letters sprawled across the page We don’t want you here! Be gone! Leave!
But here is the opposite Even though we have had dark times in our past We’ve changed We are welcoming Kind and Including So, every little newborn face Has its home
With friends and family A community
Caring together
Cursive letters across the page We are so glad you are here!
Welcome!
Hello!
That is what makes a community And now the sprout has its home
The Best Town
By McKenzie Heng
It is so easy to find a good place in town. Since I’ve been here, I’ve never been down. It is cooler when you go deeper in town. I feel like our town needs a crown. If it’s your first time here you will never feel like a clown.
Nebraska City Parts
By Finley Hill
Nebraska City has a pool, Nebraska City is so cool, Nebraska City, is oh so old, Nebraska City gets so cold.
Red Brick Road
By Honor Hopkins
My neighbor has Two dogs. That all Keep Barking. In the Night, I can hear as everything slows down. Till I too, I fall into a dream. Sometimes in the Fall, I decide to ride my bike.
Scared to be lost, I never strayed too far Until I found a Land Mark. Connecting my house to a grid Like an endless fight Of places. Subdued to stay forever Until they fall.
I am afraid no more To lose my way.
As the red brick road would find me. And bring me home. Everyone has a special place to Go back to.
In the Storm. Understand that you can go. And understand that you can fly. It’s okay, don’t lose your way, you are okay. Just follow your Red Brick Road, And you will be safe. A safe port that connects us Empowers us, helps us, My neighborhood.
Nevertheless
By Emelia Howell
The snow has come to our town
We are all forced inside
The cold bites at our noses whenever we dare wander out
But nevertheless
We know Spring will come
The budding flowers have come to our street
We venture outside
Smelling the new life in the air
But nevertheless
We know Summer will come
The heat has come to our city
We go back inside to the cool, cool air
The sun beats down, withering plants
But nevertheless
We know Autumn will come
The falling leaves have come to our home
We step outside to a kaleidoscope of colors
The life in the air starts to retreat
But nevertheless
We know the cycle repeats
My neighborhood, my life
By Frankie Jordan
My neighborhood is my home.
My neighborhood is full of wonderful people, places, and natural beauty.
My neighborhood is lively with friendship and bright with uniqueness. My neighborhood is and can be sad at times, like when the tornado hit. My neighborhood is my home.
My neighborhood is my heart.
My neighborhood is full of friends and peers who are kind and trustworthy. My neighborhood has people who respect and care about me. My neighborhood is my heart.
My neighborhood is my brain.
My neighborhood is full of guides who teach me life lessons I would have never learned from my family. My neighborhood is full of places where you can learn about your passions and not be judged, it is my school. My neighborhood is my brain.
My neighborhood is my story.
My neighborhood is bursting with seasonal traditions, like the 4th of July fireworks and past memories that we think about on the day that the memory occurred.
My neighborhood is bubbling with various experiences like our neighbors' pickleball tournament. In my neighborhood we do and try with pride in our interests. My neighborhood is my story.
My neighborhood is connected.
My neighborhood is full of people that would do anything to help each other in a time of need. My neighborhood will support each other, like when a brutal windstorm hit our neighborhood. It knocked out a bunch of trees, blocking roads, and hitting homes.
My neighborhood is connected.
My neighborhood is my home.
My neighborhood is my heart.
My neighborhood is my brain.
My neighborhood is my story.
My neighborhood is connected.
My neighborhood is my life.
Artistic!
By Jaxson Knapp
Nebraska City is very artistic. My town’s about to go ballistic The statues look like trees But they don’t freeze
My Neighborhood
By Zoey Koeller
My neighborhood is my happy place
Friendly smiles on every face
Beauty in all sights I see
That fills my face with looks of glee
My neighborhood is full of fun
The children laugh till dinner’s done
They go outside and play with friends
In my neighborhood, the fun never ends
My neighbors show they care
I’m thankful for the love they share
I haven't known them from the start
But they’re always family in my heart
My neighborhood is my happy place
The families full of love and grace
Beauty in all sights I see
A part of that beauty will always be me
Our Little Town
By Lily Kraft
Our town may be small, But, wanna play ball?
Of course, you can, but we may get hot. Need an ice cream, we have a lot.
Oh, I forgot we have a pool, That may keep us cool.
BEFORE NEBRASKA
By Evelyn Long
On my busy street just past noon, I sat in my windowsill spinning a loom. With the sun so high and the cars so low, I watched them go by as the lights flickered low. When dinner was ready, I started to wonder what would happen if we lived somewhere else, such as Nebraska or maybe somewhere near the CELSS. But, I think those places won’t have good prunes, so I’m happy I’m here spinning my loom.
Broken
By Olivia Merchant
Kinship killed through cold blood
Cut heart and vein broken and shunned
Heart and mind cursed to dust
Couldn't run yet they must
The river of blood ran quick
Death like a blow brutal and thick
No way to escape the bombs they blew
Heart and mind gone askew
The Forrest Creature
Swift Moriarty
As the dawn peaks above the great forest
With trees massive and old
A strange man
Searches for gold
He has no name
No face, no defining features
The only thing men know him by
Is the great forest creature
He moves at night
he takes flight
Doing what he might
But ever single night
why he steals all the gold few know
But many men think because of greed or power untold
It is in fact something quite the opposite to keep the evil and greedy not able to hold it
But thank him very much
For the great forest creature is not what he seems
You should keep out of his touch
Because he will eat you for lunch
And as the sun goes down dawn
Thank the forest creature right
And do truly little wrong wrong
Or else by morning you might be gone
Death of a Home
By Killian O’Lone
I see that this place,
A basket of hope, dreams, and love,
Has become decayed, rotted, soiled
No longer is it intricately knotted and twisted with stories and incantations
The walls have been stripped of their lives
Floors have shed their skin
Peeled and battered, torn to shreds
Those windows no longer sleep, painfully staring day and night
Ghosts and phantoms run wild
Their Visions are hazy, sort of spurs of mist
Swallowed by the appetite of the empty rooms
My home has died, and with it, my spirit and my pride
My Neighborhood
By Minnette Palmer
The neighborhood has big open space for backyards that children play in, happily. You can ride bikes around on the road and in parking lots. Where you can see nature growing and lots of people ready for fun.
My brother and I ride to the fire station that keeps our neighborhood safe.
Where we sit on a bench and watch the American flag fly, where many neighbors can see it, too. Then we remember how important the American flag is to our country. We say the pledge to the American flag soaring high up in the sky all on its own. When I see the flag fly, I wish I could fly, too. So then I could watch the neighborhood grow.
We see a creek with many animals that are all part of our neighborhood, Low and high, where the trees keep all of them safe. But the place that keeps me safe,
Is my comforting, loving neighborhood.
Full of loving people that want to make our neighborhood more beautiful!
My Beautiful Town
By Angelique Paredes
Our town isn’t so small anymore, We eat the apples to the core, We always shut the door at the end of the day, The horses go nay, The town goes yay!
I like my town
By Cooper Rufy
My town is cool
Like a pool
My town is bright
Like a light
Welcome to Arbor Lodge
By Willow Ryan
Arbor Lodge is an awesome place to pick apples. We picked some apples and ate some pineapple. It was good, we should have brought some water. I was so thirsty I started to totter.
My Town
By Jaxton Scharp
Nebraska City is my town, Home of John Brown, John Brown has a crown, John Brown is not a clown,
My
Football Team in the Neighborhood
By Timothy Shaw
Football is awesome and cool
And I like to go to the pool
My football team is the BlueJays. The team I’m against is the Red Rays
My coaches are cool, especially Coach Brown.
My section has a lot of sound
The football is round.
The football weighs about a pound
Football doesn’t have a mound.
My Neighborhood
By Flora Thomas
My friends and family
All of them dwell here.
My brothers and sisters in Christ We gather near.
We help and we learn Along the way. And every day is the Best day.
I hear my neighbor’s Dog barking at morning dawn, And I think how lucky I am As the day goes on.
The best times and The greatest times, They are all here In my small, yet sweet, neighborhood.
The Neighborhood
By Leo Thomas
In my neighborhood there are lots of people. In my neighborhood there is joy.
In my neighborhood everybody loves God. In my neighborhood we have hope. In my neighborhood we fear God. In my neighborhood we are good. In my neighborhood we are strong. In my neighborhood we pray to God.
Untitled
By Alice Tripp
I walk through my neighborhood
With houses made of bricks, and fences made of wood
Green grass sprouts out of the ground
The air is full of lovely sounds
Big and small dogs bark From the tree sounds a lark
Lawn flamingos dot the yards
Standing as if silent guards
As the sun sets in the west People will lay down to rest
Cats will roam the streets at night Silently watching out of sight
The street lights will all turn on One by one to light the lawns
The stars will come out and glow At the happy earth below
But soon the stars will go away To clear a path for another perfect day
The Seasons
By Liam Van Sant
What we see we admire the seasons
When it’s summer
It all happiness
Water splashes everywhere
Green is all you see
Fall
Orange is the new green Water become leaves
Piles of leaves is all
Winter
White is everywhere
Hot chocolate always around the corner
Fresh cookies is all you can smell
All you can see is wrapped presents under your tree
Winter is the jolliest time of the year
Nebraska City
By Gwenneth Walker
Nebraska City can be cool, Nebraska City has a pool, Nebraska City has some snow, Nebraska City can glow, Nebraska City can be old, Nebraska City can get cold, Nebraska City is so kind, Nebraska City has a mind.
“I’m From…”
By Lydia Taylor
I am from this place that’s warm and fuzzy with friends all around but it has this place no one else Knows about.
I’m from Christine, Holly, Herbie And Bobby. Parents who I’ve always heard cuss, father who’s always in the fire.
I am from a place where everyone knows everyone. Trees I hung on no matter which house. Friends west and east, north and south. The wheels turn when all the kids meet in town. This one circle everyone would go to have fun no matter the season. Leaves on the ground the sun blazing on our skin, out till the street lights go out.
(Endless days and nights of playing in the yard with the dogs the ash falling onto you while you’re sitting in the chair talking about who knows what. The golden marshmallows and the smell of chocolate.)
I am from the field of trees. Everyone rides their bike down builds forts and plays truth or dare.
I’m from corn on the cob, deer shoot in the cold middle of winter. We ate with a delite maid by all Sunday family dinners with all the good food in town and we sat on the lake, the kids building sand castles, the playhouse we all knew and loved, but that would all come to an end rather we liked it of not, the family turned on each other all because of a loved one's grave.
From my mother who works night and day to give us all that she never had. From a father who works so hard to not give us the guilt he grew up with. From a stepmom that has always treated us as her own with the same love. From a stepfather who always just tries to make us have fun. From a best friend that I lost all too soon I learned to not take things for granted because you won't know when they could all be gone.
I'm from losing too many loved ones at a young age losing at least 1 or 2 every year I'm not sure what to do.
I’m from we are proud of you no matter what and will love you no matter who you are. I will never give up. You're strong, believe and love yourself because you'll never know when it could be all gone.
I’m from annual fish fries and target practice with all the family and every other holiday with Mom or Dad. I'm from where we all are known for never giving up and being strong.
I'm from my mom's side of the family. From a family that travels the world by boat, plane, and car.
From a family that loves to travel, and bake.
I'm from my dad's side of the family. From a family that hunts, shoots, and loves to be outside.
From a family that loves to hunt everything, loves to fight.
From Iowa a family of military, fire fighters. Moved from house to house when I was younger 9 and I can remember. My parents separated but always got along unlike my grandparents when they were too far gone. Acres of farmland, horses, pigs, cows, and sheep are where I'm from, the farm is where I belong. Although I may not be there it's where I'm from.
From many hours in my room, where I slept, cried, mourned, had joy, and all the above.
I'm from these moments.
I'm like a rose IN bloom I'm bright but I also pass and come back alive. I'm prickly just like my trauma that caused so much drama I may hurt you if you touch the stem but after I have bloomed and up at the top, I'm beautiful but I still have my stem which is and will always be part of me.
Our
Town is a Community
By Joshua Walters
Our town is a community Community starts with Unity. Unity is people working together Working together forever. That’s how community starts Being a united community is in our hearts. Community, Unity, Community, Unity We have a united community.
My community is always happy.
By Lexi Weale
In my community, There’s some toxic positivity. It makes me Feel utterly fake glee. That toxic positivity, Taunting me, Yet pushing a plea For an easier, happier scene. That silver in the lining, Making fake smiles start lighting. Those vile smiles, Told, “It is better to let go and be happy, Than to let your emotions run free.” Those whispers make the loud Become small But all in all, Make more tears fall, More brick walls come crashing down. In my community, Positivity is a calling. The means to be “normal” But to me, All I see Is some toxic In some well-meant positivity.
Explaining My Blackness
By MajieAhna Winfrey
black is great but let's clarify what it is and what it ain't black isn't chains black isn't slavery black isn't gangs
black is fame black has no shame black is more than just “unique names”
black glows, radiates from our crowns to our soles in our souls
black isn't a crime
black people, we just don't have time but black, oooo black is so divine black is loud
black is sticking out in a crowd my black is non-optional my black isn't a state of mind
black hurts sometimes and yet my black is still one of a kind
Which Neighborhood Do I Live In?
By Andrea Zimmerman
Which neighborhood are you talking about?
The ones so peaceful where you see kids running around screaming happily, Or the neighborhoods where you see kids scream in terror. The ones where you buy ice cream off, or the ones where people sell other things. The rich or the poor. The old and abandoned or the luxury. Cabins or villas. My neighborhood is none of those things.
Just as simple as can be.
A peaceful breeze can lead to many things. Anything from happy cheers to quiet screams. Not of terror or abuse, but the silence behind the trees.
It seems as the trees hide many things,
But in reality all it hides is my neighborhood, my street, my home.
The neighborhood where it homes many strays and where children come to lay their weary heads after long hours. The neighborhood where it comes together when trees collapse, or even for a simple garage sale.
This neighborhood might be hidden from the rest, but it should never be excluded from the rest. So when you think about this question “which neighborhood do I live in”, don’t be afraid to tell others where you come from, for only you can share your community's name and what lies in the hidden streets.
ABOUT
Opera Omaha
Opera Omaha is a growth-minded, high energy, and innovative company with a demanding mission: producing opera performances in multiple formats and styles and co-creating artist-led programs for a variety of community service organizations. We believe the power of opera is transformational, and as a result supports the creation of an inventive, creative, empathetic, and inclusive community that inspires joy, self-discovery, kinder discourse, and opportunity for all.
Visit operaomaha.org for more information.
Nebraska Writers Collective
Founded in 2008, Nebraska Writers Collective (NWC) is an Omaha-based 501(c)3 non-profit organization that fosters self-empowerment and community-building through creative writing and performance poetry. NWC facilitates interactive workshop-based programming throughout the Midwest at schools, businesses, and correctional facilities, and provides paying work for more than 50 local writers and poets each year.
NWC helped identify the theme and created prompts for the Poetry & Music Project, and NWC Teaching Artists designed and facilitated poetry workshops for over 200 middle and high schoolers across Nebraska and Iowa.
Visit newriters.org for more information.
American Opera Projects
American Opera Project's mission is to develop and present new and innovative works of lyric theater, provide a creative home to emerging and established artists, and engage contemporary communities in a transformative operatic experience.
AOP has been at the forefront of the contemporary opera movement for over thirty years through the commissioning, developing, and producing of opera and music-theatre projects, training programs for student and emerging composers and librettists, and community engagement.
AOP helped identify Poetry & Music Project composer Sidney Marquez Boquiren who is an alumnus of AOP’s Composers & the Voice opera writing fellowship program.
Visit aopopera.org for more information.
The views expressed in this program do not necessarily reflect the view of Humanities Nebraska or the Nebraska Cultural Endowment.