Lockers

What’s in my locker nobody knows a cat or dog and maybe somebody’s nose.
What else is in my locker nobody knows maybe a dead body without his toes. What’s in my locker nobody knows a hat a cat a dead body without his toes. What’s in my locker that nobody knows a fat old rat with so many holes? What’s in my locker that I only know? Maybes somebody’s body and a couple moles.

What’s in my locker nobody knows a cat or dog and maybe somebody’s nose.
What else is in my locker nobody knows maybe a dead body without his toes. What’s in my locker nobody knows a hat a cat a dead body without his toes. What’s in my locker that nobody knows a fat old rat with so many holes? What’s in my locker that I only know? Maybes somebody’s body and a couple moles.

In my locker there are six things, none of which will ever be stolen.
On the shelf, there is my history textbook in its stretchy pink cover, the heaviest thing I bring to school and the one thing that won’t fit in my bag. Every other day between 3rd and 4th blocks, I have to run and get this book before catching up with my friends already on their way to history. I really ought to just buy a bigger backpack.
On top of that is a juice box: Apple and Eve’s Very Berry. I bring four of these to school every day, my personal fruity addiction. This one is empty, and I should probably throw it out. I don’t know why it’s still here, I probably threw it in there one day after lunch. Every time I see it I think it must be full, and then my heart sinks when I feel its weight.

Can't find anything
Great messy jumble of stuff
Dare to look inside?

I use this in class
Their also in my locker!
Using it a lot

I look out to see the beautiful, blue sky and the white, crashing waves. I see the white, combed sand on the beach stretching for miles; the tall palm trees swaying in the wind; the seagulls swooping. Kids are in the water, fighting the surf, playing, catching waves. My eyes drift to the left to the beach and see the tall dry hills with the big houses dotting each one. All of a sudden the beach ends and my math book binding starts. I grab the book and have one last look at the five-inch panoramic magnet. I slam my locker shut, and hurry to class.

In my locker
There is a special plane
It is made of paper

No on will find out.
What's in my locker at all.
So be gone from me.

My magnet is special
It will never leave my locker
because it is my magnet

Inside My Locker
Filled to the top with my junk
to full to open

In my old locker
Someone spilled chocolate milk
Now it smells badly

That green notebook
Specially in my locker
For my eyes only

Theres a scary thing
It scares me when I'm sad
And now I am mad

Most important thing
Is not diamonds or jewels
It's deodorant

The Locker

By Andrew Barber
Oxbow High School, Grade 12

Most people think of a school locker as a place where you would store books, binders and bags. For me, this is just a cover.
Of course, I have the ordinary items found in any kid's locker, but my locker is more useful than that. I have my own business running in my locker. I help teachers get rid of the students they don't like. It sounds like a bad thing, but it's the way that I roll.

The Man's Locker

By Kody Sanborn
Oxbow High School, Grade 12

There are only two people in the world who know what's in my locker. Me and the person who had my locker last year. Anybody that walks by my locker can easily look inside and see but you have to really look. Sure I have books and binders and all that studying nonsense that's going to get me nowhere in life, but I also have something much more important. My locker is like the wardrobe in that movie with the kids and the lion and the witch. But due to copyright infringement I cannot say the name of the movie.

The Most Important Reflection

I believe that you can tell a lot about a person by looking in their locker. You can tell how neat or messy they are. You can tell what they like to eat and drink. You can tell if they read out of their books or not. You can even tell if the person does homework. I took the time to look in my locker and try to find out what kind of person I was. I opened my locker and the cardboard box for Red Bull fell out. Well I found out I was not neat. I looked around in there and found some reading books since finished. At least I read. I found some donut wrappers and the like to signify my school diet. There were other things in there that didn’t seem like much at all such as clothes and trash. Take a look in your locker, you might just learn something.

My Glorious Locker

For the first few weeks of school
It sat, dejected along with the other
Identical, green doors.
All of the others beside it were used as
Walls to lean on
Backgrounds for early morning gossip
Surfaces for shimmering birthday banners
Or hard surface to bang a head against
After realizing that a lab report was due that day.
Perhaps the metal door
With the metallic hangers inside
Became jealous of all of the other
Glorious lockers,
Lined up down the hall.

But when my bag became too small
To carry the textbooks, binders, and lunch
I found myself frustrated, standing
Before that skinny, green door
Staring blankly at the faded combination numbers
Scrawled on my hand.
Over and over again, I spun that dial
To the right, to the left, and back around again.
But the defiant locker
Wouldn’t budge
To yield its empty metal walls.
Day after day, I desperately
Twisted, spun, and turned
That black dial,
Hopeful that one day

What I find

By Autumn Brooks
Rivendell Academy, Grade 9

Switching class to class,
I stop and open you.
You're full of binders and papers.
You're full of my hard work.
But whenever I look into your walls,
I see my future.
I open you once,
I see myself in my graduation gown,
Throwing my hat into the air eagerly.
I close you.
I open you twice,
I hear loud music at the party I’m at with my college friends,
And the alarm clock that wakes me up early in the morning.
I close you.
I open you a third time,
I see myself wearing white,
And my man at the end of the aisle, waiting for me to reach him.
I close you.
I open you a fourth time.
I see myself tucking my little ones to bed,
Kissing them lightly on the cheek, a new day to reappear.
I close you.
I open you a fifth time,
And watch through weary eyes as my grandchildren play hand games,
and sing songs to me.
I close you,
And open you up one last time,

Click wrrr click click
8:00 AM for 3002
Swings wide with free abandon
Binders flying in and out
Backpack bloated
Metal stomach empty until 3:00 lunch.

Click wrrr click wrrr thunk
Crash!
8:00 AM for 3003
A foot lashes against
The sad blue stomach
In frustration not earned

Click wrrr click wrrr click
3003 relents, wincing as
The drippy coat
The grassy shoes
The muddy cleats
The textbook not covered
Are forced in
Crushing that day-old egg-salad sandwich
With the squelch of a road-kill frog.

Locker 218. You hear people talk about it the moment you walk in the door as a freshman. No one wants to be assigned that locker. There’s a curse on it they say, and if you get assigned that locker, you will have horrible bad luck and failing grades for the rest of your life. This year, I was the lucky student assigned locker 218.
“Ari!” I cried to my best friend. “What do I do? I have locker 218!”
“I don’t know. Do you even believe the stories?” she replied.
“How do you explain the valedictorian dropping to the bottom 10 percent of the class in a single semester last year? He had this locker!”
“Right… I forgot about that. So what do you think you are going to do?” she asked methodically putting her books in her locker.
“I have no idea, but I have to break the curse.”