What’s in a Name?

Martha.

Not Marty or Mart or anything “cute”

Not Margaret, not Marcia, I tell them

Mar-THA.

It sticks to the roof of your mouth like peanut butter or the host

Bluck – it’s blucky

If I were old and unmarried,

a spinster, an aunt,

then I’d be Martha.

Or a dead President’s wife--

that’s Martha, too.

I could be a snooty suburbanite

who went from “the perfect house”

to “the big house”

except I can’t cook and

and I don’t care.

Because, Hey! Martha can be a one-name show

like Madonna or Cher .

I could be that--

except I’m not.

Instead I’ll be Martha

who rarely must say her last name on the phone because there aren’t very many of me.

The No-Sentence Poem

A stream. A river. The ocean.

Gushing forth. No. Softly trickling.

Swaying. Running down.

Down. Down. Down. Down.

A face. Eye. Nose mouth.

Wet. Salty, not bitter though.

Taste it.

A tear.

Poem.

Slow. Exhausting. Broken.

A thought. Twisted. Turned.

A jungle

Of words not meant to

Connect some syllables. Clearing

A mind

From the outside world.

Anything. Or everything.

A thought and a pen.

Where I’m From

Mrs. Curran's example

I’m from Barbara and Bob

(But mostly from Barbara)

Her blue eyes now living in mine.

I'm from mousy blonde hair that's born to be blonde

And all of my height's in my mouth.

I'm from Mary and Brian and Barry

Doling out smiles and batting eyelashes

to get my 8-year-old way

Whimpering, tearing, I smile to receive

the last helping of fudgy cake.

I’m from dancing on steamy roads

Barefoot in summer sun showers

Wrapped snugly in humid air’s grasp.  

I’m from bobbing bright waters while white sails luff

On the watery playgrounds of my own.

I’m from pageboys and shags, Platforms and loafers

Culottes and hip huggers on slim wishful hips.  

I’m from hand-me-downs and send-me-overs

Faded from washing and the adventures of others.

I am from sadness and pain; from swift, brutal loss.

I am from bursts of freeing felicity.

I am from singing and dancing and glasses half full

I am from happy, content, and alive.

Ask Me to Tell

How it Feels

Ask me to tell how it feels

to be invisible

to even your best friends.

Ask me to tell how it feels

To see them walk arm and arm

In clusters like a herd of sheep

Giggling and joking

And when I finally catch up to them

Ask me to tell how it feels

To be ignored once again.

Ask me to tell how it feels

Top find another quiet friend

Stuck in a familiar forsaken feeling

And to part together

To only come back to hear,

“Sorry, guys, we didn’t notice

you were gone” accompanied by a fake smile

before they simply

walk away

again.

Eavesdropping

Lunch.

Do you have a dollar? I need a dollar.

Why do you need a dollar?

Omigosh! There he is!

Guess you don’t need that dollar now, huh?

Gimme a goldfish.

I don’t’ wanna give you a goldfish. Eat your pudding.

This one is Sammy.

You NAMED it?

Yup. I always name my goldfish.

Okay WHY is your applesauce green?

Cuz I want it that way.

Are you gonna eat it?

I don’t’ think so.

EW. There is a bug in it!

So the bunny attacked your hand?

Yup.

Wow.

Yup.

Whoa there! Take that language and put it away!

Photograph

Here, take a favorite picture, ideally one where everyone is not perfectly posed.  Then, bring the picture "to life" by describing the memory of the moment:  people, actions, reactions, emotions, dialogue, etc.

The Princess Hobo

“Dad, tell him no. It’s my picture.

Does he have to be in my picture?”

She screeches, this princess in a railroad museum

with her Doonie and Bourke bag

and stylin’ sunglasses,

beckoned by hobos that spark her imagination for a model’s photo shoot.

Her right hand points to the destroyer

of all things in her world – a younger brother.

And he,

hand on hips

he turns with a smirk,

more for the picture-taker than for her,

Not unaware of the maddening effect of his stance on an older sister.

The camera clicks, capturing this

bickering of sliblings

as I imagine the peace

a silent photograph

will mercifully bring.

If I Ain’t a Teacher

Inspired by Glennis Redmond

If I ain’t a teacher

someone tell my eyes to stop spying

errors in everything I read,

searching for ways to refine the world’s words.

If I ain’t a teacher

someone tell my fingers to enjoy no longer

the feel of chalk when it makes a clean stroke

on the smooth, cool chalkboard.

If I ain’t a teacher

someone tell my mouth to stop spouting

familiar phrases like, “Get rid of the gum”

and “Don’t rock on my chairs.”

If I ain’t a teacher

someone tell my mind to stop racing

when it should be sleeping

because the test isn’t copied and the grades are due.

If I ain’t a teacher

someone tell my creative side to stop pop! pop! popping

with ways to breathe life into dead poets and

create sense from grammar rules that break the rules.

If I ain’t a teacher

someone tell my heart to stop hurting

because Anne’s parents are splitting up while she gets torn in two

and Jerry sits alone at lunch pretending he doesn’t care.

If I ain’t a teacher

someone tell my soul to stop believing that I can change the world

or at least inspire the student who hates to write

and make believers of those immersed in self doubt.

If I ain’t a teacher

then stop me from breathing

because it’s teaching that keeps me alive!

two samples in this column!

Headline Poem

Take an interesting headline from a newspaper or magazine and use it as the first line of your poem.  Paste the actual headline into your poetry portfolio. 

WAS IT WORTH IT?

When the fight lasted all night long

And no solution came of it?

When she screamed the three dreaded words, "I hate you."

When the speaking ceased,

All doors were slammed,

The tears were shed.

When the pain returned with every memory.

Then I ask myself,

Was it worth it?

Was it really worth it?

No.

Media Poem

Similar to the headline poem, you are looking for "poetry" in other sources.  Here, cut out words or phrases that might go together to form a theme or a message.  It's hard to show here -- see my back bulletin board in class -- but read the following example and imagine that each colored word or phrase is a separate cut out.

Unleash

the real

you

break             the         rules

Find your freedom

Underneath         it all

it         is              only       what you see

in         you          that's

real

time to

get          creative

go         wild

dare         you          to