What Will Your Verse Be?

The graduate glances around the gym, looking for faces.

                A classmate catches his eye.

She smiles, pointing to her cap

                                                she tilts her head.

Stenciled in white on the black cap, “What will your verse be?”

She was quoting Mr. K, quoting a movie

where another Mr. K, quotes a poem.

                He chuckles at the layered attribution.

...a line tickles in his brain…

That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.

...the lesson for the class….

a metaphor, life being the play

                                                [pause for effect, eye contact]

“What will your verse be?”

                “Was that Mr K from the movie or the class that asked?”

The question, like him, took a seat and listened.

                Then it tapped him on the shoulder and whispered.

The girl, sitting not far, felt the words trickle from her cap,

drip into her veins, infuse in her blood.

“What will your verse be?”

                Echoes in their thoughts,

others stepped on stage,

                not the usual speakers... but visions…

Each say, My verse will be…

the soldier

                                                ...a click, me jumping, tackling my buddy from harm…

                                the nurse

                                                ...the hand I hold, saying it’s alright, I am here…

                                the mom

                                                ...you got it, I’m letting go of the bike. Woohoo, look at you…

                                the dad

                                                ...uh, yeah, that dress. You look...beautiful...grown up…

                                the cop

                                                …drying a tear. Passing a stick of gum. We’ll find your 

                                                    parents…

                                the fireman

                                                ...into the blaze, up the stairs, Let’s get you out of here….

                                the cancer patient

                                                ...today I wear bold lipstick, wear pink, and walk proud…

                                the artist

                                                ...inspired by life, capturing the moment of true peace…

“What will your verse be?”

                ...the question, like the graduation cap, had hit him again

during the celebratory rainfall of tassels and thunder of cheers.

And with a smile, he gives it back to her.

In that moment, as both hands touch the words,

                they see Mr. K, a sparkle in his eye,

                                and his verse in their powerful play.

               

               

               

                

One of Those Days

In early, he preps the day’s lessons.

A copier jam backlogs tasks at hand.

In the hall, toner on fingers, he listens.

The student’s bad day needs an ear.

Voluntary review before the bell.

She encourages the few that attend.

In her morning bustle, she forgot

her bagel on the counter at home

He sits heavily in his chair.

Quizzes graded, some too low.

Lunch at his desk, he searches

for aspirin and a new approach.

Confused faces stare at her.

Connections to a unit failed.

Restless kid disrupts the class.

After referral, she thinks what if.

He shrugs on his coat, shuffles home.

Orthodontist bill sits next to cold dinner.

Quietly, he nibbles as he reads

State standards changes policies again.

A cat rubs her ankles in dim light.

The essays graded sit to the side.

She sips at her tea, pondering tv.

No, she promised bake sale cookies.

On his nightstand, a marine pin and

A ceramic bowl from past students.

On her laptop screen an email flickers.

A thank you from a student brings a tear.

Yeah it's been one of those days.

Among the struggles, a brief shiny why.

He will go onward, bright and early.

She will, gladly, proudly, do it again.

You'll Be There

In the future, there is a classroom

With books and boards and desks.

The floor is worn, maybe a crack in the wall,

But posters splash color and whisper advice.

And you’ll be there.

In this classroom there are students,

Bright and eager and ready to learn.

The world will be opened to them.

Discovery and life will dance about.

And you’ll be there.

Among the students, there will be a few

Trying and doing but not quite getting.

Leaning in, elbow on desk with his writing

Or with her math; a turning point provided.

And you’ll be there.

Among the few, there will be a student,

Sullen or struggling or disengaged.

There will be open battles, quiet chats aside,

Patience required; a long term rescue ensured.

And you’ll be there.

Within the faces, there will be a child,

Noticed, but quiet and blended in.

Not in trouble and not standing out,

Yet from the pat on the back, the confident grin,

The happy room, the warmth of life and learning,

The proud stand, the “good job,"

The hug of safety; unknown, a life change given.

And you’ll be there.

 (for the next generation of teachers)

Tough Chick

My muscles are pool noodles.

    My ankle is swollen.

I have bruises and a floor burn.

    But I will play on;

        I am a tough chick.

The ball was alien.

    My hands were dead fish.

My head unclear with trash talk.

    But I will play on;

        I am a tough chick.

Like in movies and in history,

    Like in this game and the others,

There are women who stood tall and said,

    I will play on;

        I am a tough chick.

So I will shake it off,

    And I will face all doubts.

My ankle is taped.

    Time to suck it up and go.

Pass me the ball and be ready!

    I will play on;

        I am a tough chick.


For Grace

Passion

                     in brief moments

it erupts

  bursting tears and laughter forth

  from a celebration of the senses

  phoenix born from another’s fire

other moments, a spark ignites

  slowly, nibbling, savoring

  all it takes in until

  it roars desire

melding with the soul

              it hungers for more

              craving to be, create, become

              the art that sustains

passion drives to do

               to go beyond mortal limits

               to the essence of true living

               expressing exuberant form

               in a clash of blood and spirit

               dancing and singing

               to live eternally

                                    in brief moments

Writing about poetry

"Be gone J. Evans Pritchard, Ph.D!" says John Keating (played by Robin Williams) in the movie Dead Poets Society. Mr. Keating is having his students read the introduction to poetry in the textbook. For the purpose of the movie, the passage is dull and the analysis of poetry sounds, as Mr. Keating put it, as if one was "laying pipe." Mr. Keating makes a good point, in that poetry is from the soul and should be tasted and experienced. And I agree, yet the craft of poetry should not be dismissed. To write an analysis of poetry, one must look at the components of the science and the art of poetry.

The science of poetry is the technique and tools of the author to create the poem and the voice of the poem. This is where the literary terms taught in classes come in: simile, metaphor, musical devices, rhyme patterns, imagery and structure. These are characteristics that set forms of poetry apart from other forms. Yet in this paradox of rules, poetry can break the rules. E. E. Cummings and Emily Dickinson are prime examples.

Because there are many great works that in no way resemble each other in structure of technique, defining poetry is difficult. However, the tie that binds poetry together is the essence that speaks to the reader or listener. That essence is “voice.” A voice communicates the literal and underlying messages of the speaker; it contains the relevance, the theme, and the soul of the poem. Thus, voice is the art of poetry.

Therefore, in writing an essay on poetry, the writer needs to build a thesis statement that reflects the art and/or science of poetry: Communication, Relevance, Voice, Imagery, Technique and Structure. The focus of the essay may depend on what the writer wants to write about or what has been assigned by an instructor. It can be just about the theme of the poem, it can be about the speaker and voice, or it can be about the literary devices the author uses. Whatever the case or combination, the writer needs to look at the component(s) and pull examples from the poem that illustrate it. To do this, I ask my students questions.

Communication. Does the poem communicate a subject? Does the poem communicate a theme? Jean Toomer wrote "Reaper". The subject of the poem is a reaper cutting grass that cuts a rat. The theme of the poem, upon looking into the tools of imagery suggests that death is mechanical and continual. These subject and theme can comprise the whole essay depending how detailed the analysis breaks down the words and phrases.

Relevance. Is the subject or theme relevant or important to the reader? Can the reader relate to it? Most high school students say that the subject of "Reaper" is not relevant to them because they do not cut grass or work on a farm, yet the theme can be identifiable to them because they have dealt with death in some form.

Voice. Who is the speaker? Based on the words, what can you tell me about the speaker? What is the speaker’s tone? What is the speaker’s attitude or emotions? As with communication and relevance, voice is a major component that makes up the art of poetry. The voice gives us insight into the character of the speaker and the message and motivation of the character.

Imagery. What pictures are drawn? What senses are given pictures? How does imagery illustrate and communicate the speaker's voice and message? What

colors are used? How does the alliteration add to the sound of the poem? Imagery is the construction of “pictures” for any of the five senses These questions lead to metaphor, symbolism, concrete nouns, musical devices and word choice.

Technique and Structure. Does the chosen structure assist the poet in communicating the theme? How does the repetition of a line add to the voice of the speaker? In other words, what does the writer do to enhance the poem and make the above components work together? Technique and structure choice overlap. From this component comes the author’s preferred style. It can take us from Dickinson’s poetry of phrases to the metered rhyme pattern that adds a lyrical effect to Longfellow's "The Wreck of the Hesperus" and its tragic tale.

These six components work together in a good poem no matter the poet and the poem. So, when writing an essay on poetry, look at Communication, Relevance, Voice, Imagery, Technique and Structure to guide the construction of the thesis statement. This understanding of the art and science of poetry leads to infinite number of good essays where the essay can delve into the intricacies of what gave life to the body of work, what made the blood flow in the veins and what gave breath to the voice. In other words, what made it real. And one can write an essay that respects the soul of the poem and the mind of the poet.