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July 13, 2008

Recipe From a Retreat - By Dianne Ruxton

Take a multitude of ideas
Packed into a weekend;
A group of teachers
Passionate about their work;
A variety of strategies
masked as entertainment;
A walk, a run, a talk, a meal;
A song, a poem, a story, a drill;
A bit of Irony mixed with
A lot of love...
The end result is
A change in the way we think,
An alternate view of the world,
But most importantly,
A new community of inspiration.

English 101
by Dianne Ruxton

Mike, with the sideways smile
and loose language;
Alec, who accidentally forgot his pencil
in his locker;
John who enjoyed showing off his underwear,
And Monica in the front row
who seemingly forgot she was wearing a mini-skirt.

Jessica with her explanation of how
the six pills she took daily helped with her depression;
Lisa, Tina, Kelsey, Amy, Valerie, etc.
who left the class at inopportune times
because... sshh... they had an "emergency,"
And Leroy, who boasted about his intelligence,
but refused to read aloud, and when he did,
stumbled over one-syllable words.

Sean with cigarette burns on his arms
and an angry expression that could be felt
in the pit of the stomach;
Jacob who came in with deep,
dark bruises from "falls;"
And Blake with his essay on how to survive
a night on ecstasy

Tina always asking to borrow paper
because her mother had spent the money on booze.
Thomas, whose mother couldn't understand
what the problem was with the essay he wrote
regarding her birthday gift for him --
a stripper giving him a lap dance;
And Sheila, whose father wanted to know
if she could read a different novel
due to the "offensive" content

Will they see the beauty in Shakespeare's sonnets?
Will they feel the anguish in Steinbeck's social consciousness,
Or Hemingway's inability to deal with the suicide of his father?
Is it possible for them to see past the anguish of their own lives.

Unpretty - By Amy Pfaff

Unpretty

I’m  terribly intimidated

By beautiful people

It’s as if there’s a voice

Inside my head

Saying

Remember

When you used to lie awake at

Night

Tears streaming down your face

Unable to sleep

Wishing you could dream

Forever

Aching to be

Someone else

Dying inside

Because all you wanted to do

Was hide your face

In shame

And nobody knew

What was

Wrong

With you

And no one could

Make it

Better

And you hated mirrors

And walked with your head down

Eyes

Down

Wondering when this would ever

End

And wondering what you did

To deserve this

And skipping class

Because you couldn’t face

Anyone

Locking yourself in the bathroom

So people couldn’t see you

Wilting inside

And people who really loved you

Told you they really

Didn’t even notice

But you knew they did

How couldn’t they?

But time is a healer

And love is a lifesaver

And knowledge about your

Condition

You can live with that

And you can thrive

And understand others

When they want to hide

And you can smile

And hold them in your heart

Because you’ve come so far

Because someone has done that

For you

And you can appreciate each day

So much more

And life feels so good!

July 08, 2008

Photographs: Part 2 - By Emily Morgan

Emily would like feedback on this poem.

Photographs: Part 2

 

I’m looking through

old photographs

of my grandma

 

I wonder what she was

like in her youth

as a flirtatious young

woman

a bride,

a mother.

 

It frightens me slightly

that at some point

someone will think

this about me.

 

“I wonder what she was like when. . .”

 

This is why I write

why I journal

why I keep a somewhat

careful record of my

thoughts and feelings

 

So as to leave little

mystery

to my own descendents

 

It is slightly dreary

to be

not yet thirty

and have fears of

being forgotten

or misunderstood

 

I suppose I wanted

to know my own grandparents

better

to understand

them as people

instead of grandparents

 

but there were no journals

to read

no writings to decipher

 

There were only letters

retrieved after both

their deaths

 

Letters that came too late

to understand them

in person

Photographs: Part 1 - Emily Morgan

Emily would like feedback on both her poems....

Photographs: Part 1

 

The photograph is

in my memory

 

 

I sit here writing

about it

and though it is

not in front of

me

I know it

and every detail

it holds.

 

My grandparent’s faces

peer out of the paper

stunning, confident,

smiling.

 

Their photograph

hung in a gold

frame with other

family photos above

the piano in

their home.

 

I studied it,

just above my head

as I practiced the piano.

 

I loved how they

both wore black and

it looked as if

they were joined

together as one.

 

I loved their dark

hair combed perfectly

in a style long

since replaced.

 

Their ivory skin

clear

without blemish

or the wrinkles I remember

 

This same photograph

hung amid many other

family pictures

in my childhood home.

 

I would stand

comparing my grandma’s

eyes to my own,

my grandpa’s smile

with my mom’s.

 

It amazed me how

striking they appeared

and how we were all

a part of them.

 

They are now both

gone

and we have been left

with only pictures

and memories.

 

I keep a copy

as a reminder of them

but also

a reminder of those memories

I have

studying it.

 

It is a part

of my own story.

 

A beginning I never

witnessed, but only

experienced

through photographs.

 

Poetry by Paula Leppert

My best friend tells me I am an orange.

An orange--layered with hidden levels of complexity.

It starts with a tough outer peel

Repelling unwanted, unwelcome advances.

The taste is bitter on the unsuspecting tongue

Causing many to cast me away

Scarred but unexplored.

Some choose to peel away the outer layer

delving under the surface.

This layer beneath holds

The vitamins

The nutrients

The knowledge

The wisdom of my experiences.

It is here that I hold the words

Speaking to whom the world sees

And it is here most stop.

 

My outer shell stripped away

Exposes the soft inner circle holding the segments of my soul.

Each piece is filled with the juices of who I truly am.

Each piece is flavored by the trials and victories

Of living in this world of challenge every day.

 

Some segments are small, bitter with only drops of juice left

Sucked out by loss

Words spoken in anger

Meant to hurt

To damage.

 

Some segments are mellow

Holding a soft flavor

Unmarked by the ravages of time

Hopeful of a future yet to be attained.

 

Finally those final few

Filled to bursting with the poignant tastes

Of joy

Of power

Of desire.

These pieces though small in number

Show the true heart of a loving soul

Often denied voice

Hidden to protect the value of these precious segments.

 

Only the chosen few reach the soul of this orange.

A delicacy to be savored.

A texture never forgotten.

Layers of a complex nature

Stolen from the world.

My best friend tells me I am an orange.

I may believe him.

 

Paula Leppert

July 03, 2008

Reading a Poem to a Freshmen English Class: Jazz II a Second Time - by Veronica Zaleha

Reading a Poem to a Freshmen English Class: Jazz II a Second Time

 

 


Carl Wendell Hines,

Jr. rolls his

eyes to heaven

as I start “Jazz

Poem Two”

a second time.

no., wait. listen. see?

it has to be heard

over spiral pages

flipping three ring binders

clicking velcro

tearing pencils

tapping paper

ripping I’m still rapping

you don’t hear me

peals to swine I’ll

make you listen (yeah!)


stop. close your eyes.

see?

the Birdman flying as

notes soar

 swell

 wail

transcending race &

poverty

through music, gospel,

poetry! so

freshmen writers come

with me

see?

you, too, can find

yourselves to be

whatever you want

one day.

 

 Veronica Daley Zaleha

 

 

This poem was inspired by and is an imitation of Carl Wendell Hines, Jr.’s poem “Jazz Poem Two” as it appears in an old ninth grade literature textbook Insights, published by McGraw Hill in 1979

 

 

Nickel Be - By Veronica Zaleha

More Poetry from Veronica!  Can YOU match this?



Nickel Be

 

The pres says

he wants to see

No Child Left Behind.

Can you hear the whir of that

administrative spin?

Cuz they haven't put a dime

into inner city schools

Where we re-segregate,

not educate.

And I say it's a crime 

when the oppressed

police themselves.

But you know that

I'm a mother.

A bad mother,

a mad mother -- 

I'm your mother.

"Unbought and unbossed"

my voice is strong

telling you to raise yours

to right this wrong

and let all children know

they belong.

 

Veronica Daley Zaleha

 

The Librarian - By Veronica Zaleha

Here are some poems posted from Veronica Zaleha.  Enjoy!

Librarian

 

I spy you

back turned to me

standing at the shelves in the 800s.

 

And I,

looking up from my desk

piled with

catalogs,

budgets,

order forms,

am reminded of the value

of books.

 

The written words

on the page.

The reader.

 

 

 Veronica Daley Zaleha

 March 2006

March 29, 2008

Poem in your Pocket - Ways to Celebrate and Share Poetry!

For writers!

Print

POEM IN YOUR POCKET - GREAT IDEAS TO CELEBRATE NATIONAL POETRY MONTH!

FROM WWW. POETRY.ORG Celebrate the first national Poem In Your Pocket Day!

The idea is simple: select a poem you love during National Poetry Month then carry it with you to share with co-workers, family, and friends on April 17.

Poems from pockets will be unfolded throughout the day with events in parks, libraries, schools, workplaces, and bookstores. Create your own Poem In Your Pocket Day event using ideas below or let us know how you will celebrate Poem In Your Pocket Day by emailing npm@poets.org.

Put Poems In Pockets

In this age of mechanical and digital reproduction, it's easy to carry a poem, share a poem, or start your own PIYP day event. Here are some ideas of how you might get involved:

·  Start a "poems for pockets" give-a-way in your school or workplace

·  Urge local businesses to offer discounts for those carrying poems

·  Post pocket-sized verses in public places

·  Handwrite some lines on the back of your business cards

·  Start a street team to pass out poems in your community

·  Distribute bookmarks with your favorite immortal lines

·  Add a poem to your email footer

·  Post a poem on your blog or social networking page

·  Project a poem on a wall, inside or out

·  Text a poem to friends

National Poetry Month

Poem_in_pocket Hello!  I have a host of ideas and web-links you can visit for National Poetry Writing Month or to tune up those rusty poetry plans....There are ideas for writers, teachers (lesson plans & web-links), and students of all ages (poetry/visual art projects).  Enjoy!

FOR TEACHERS:

This is my Favorite site - Ideas for educators for poetry month – includes lesson plans and different ways to celebrate poetry month BOTH FOR TEACHER AND WRITER - http://www.poets.org/page.php/prmID/6

Read, Write, Think – web-site with great poetry resources – lesson plans, links, resources

http://www.readwritethink.org/calendar/calendar_day.asp?id=478

Lesson plans and ideas that create visual art to go with poetry for students both Elementary and Secondary:

           From Crayola – They have some cool new tools!

Poems and paintings – relating the written word to visual art –

http://www.crayola.com/crafts/detail/poems-and-paintings-craft/

older elementary through high school ideas for memory books/journal/sketchbooks - http://www.crayola.com/crafts/detail/magnificent-memories-sketch-book-craft/

older and younger – magnetic poetry corner and paper bag pirates

http://www.crayola.com/lesson-plans/detail/pirate-poems-lesson-plan/

All ages - Swirls and Similies – Great way to integrate writing with the arts and music.   Yes, I’ve tried it with all ages!   It’s like graffiti!  http://www.crayola.com/lesson-plans/detail/swirls-and-smiles-lesson-plan/