April 20: Poem 20

Awake at four ten
Dress rehearsal in my head
I still love to teach.

Bonus

On that humid night
the Eagles up by seven
my hand first found yours.

Notes

The first poem is a true story. I was up at four in the morning thinking about today's lesson and writing poems in my head to use as models in class. Then I thought I must still love teaching if I'm awake thinking about it. The bonus poem is the one I wrote to use as a model for students today. Two haikus for the price of one! Although, technically, all my poems are for the price of one, since the price is zero.

April 19: Poem 19

Like boys from the sea

to the beach of Normandy
I am back to school.

Notes

For a haiku, this went through a number of mental edits. I was going to put the boys on something (a barge?), was going to be 'towards' the beaches or 'upon' the beaches, and the last line might have started 'I go back'. However, I wanted a sense of inevitability to the whole thing. Fate is somehow driving the bus here. Wish I could have fit 'unto' into line 2 but couldn't get it down to 7 syllables.

I realized that 'haiku comics' would be a fun project. I Googled it - someone already did that :(. However, mine would be a lot different. Haikomix? Haikumic? Something like that. Hmmm.
Anyway, as the poem tells you, I'm off to school.   

Aprl 18: Poem 18

In my classroom
teaching again
but it's loud outside
because men with jackhammers
need to get the work done

and there's a charcoal kitten
scratching at the classroom door
trying to get out
so I let it

because it's time to teach

but the principal
runs up
to put the cat back in
because they are
gathering lost cats
and using my room
to hold them

so 

I go back to teach
but there is a girl
in the back
sitting on her boyfriend's lap
and he's sixteen
and she's in middle school
and I'm about to say something
but I look down

and realize

I've been in my underwear
the whole time

and think

well

I have to teach.

Waking

my dog next to me

gently kicking my side
with his hind legs
running to something
or away from it

or maybe
just on an errand

to find my pants.

Notes

I had to write this at 3:30 in the morning because it just happened. This is the first draft and I"m not changing a thing. I don't have anxiety about going back to school tomorrow, YOU have anxiety about going back to school tomorrow.

April 17: Poem 17

I woke to snow on Easter Day
    And that somehow seemed wrong.
This day was deigned for daffodils
    And silver sun and song.

And I remembered of the time
    Now twenty years long gone
When I once trod as Jesus trod
    I hope you’ll tread along.

‘Twas under glare of ERS
    With pancake makeup on
That I donned Nikes and tie dye
    To perform for the throng.

Much Matthew I did memorize
    To give my Lord His tongue.
Beatitudes I struggled with
    And often got them wrong.

I asked for Grace and for Mercy,
    For Him to keep me strong,
For His voice was to be my voice
    His song to be my song.

I felt the fear of failing Him
    Sharing His story wrong
So I asked God to let me bear
    Some suffering along.

Thus when amid the passion play
    I felt moments prolong
And prayed in my Gethsemene
    Felt angels ring the gong

The judgement that I knew was mine
    How right was made from wrong
The burden that my Savior took
    I took some sliver on

The tears I shed were not some art
    A mask that I put on
‘Twas fragments of what Jesus felt
    A gift that’s made me strong.

I bear it still inside my soul
    A place with walls quite strong
And there I sit in reverence
    And know that I’m God’s son.

Notes

This was both the most difficult and easiest poem to write of the series so far. A production of Godspell 20 years ago is my own genuine 'come to Jesus' moment. I have had pieces of this in my head for days, but woke up with it almost finished in my subconscious - and about 75% of it was in the first draft that I pounded out in fifteen minutes this morning. I asked God to help me write this in the same way I asked Him for help two decades ago, and He answered both times. 

I hope you have (or have had) a blessed Easter.

April 16: Poem 16

I do not do not
    want to write
a poem today
    or tonight
if you make me
    I just might
just to hurt you
    out of spite
pretend to think
    pretend to write
in my journal
    clean and white
but all the while
    in plain sight
I will scribble
    left and right
up and down
    in dark and light
and you will think
    you won the fight
you made me made me
    made me write
inside my journal
    clean and white
but it is nothing
    no poem in sight.
and that will fill
    you up with fright
how bright I am
    like anthracite
that I fooled you
    I won this fight
creativity 
    you did ignite
but not for poems
    you luddite
instead for wasting
    of graphite
but now I see
    there's no respite
ack! my poem
    I must recite.

Notes

I am thinking about all the ways my students are going to avoid writing poetry next week, and I suppose channeling some Shel Silverstein in the process. The funny think is that I'm avoiding, and have been avoiding, writing the poem I need to write this week. I also know that, since tomorrow is Easter Sunday, I have to write it. So, procrastination has bought me another day, but that's all I'm going to get. 

I almost want to do a Shel Silverstein-inspired doodle with this one.

April 15: Poem 15

That look

when I misspell
or read it wrong

I cannot Waffle
Wordle's not strong

it says

oh
and you're 
an English Teacher
and a Doctor

And I. 

Beat. 

You.

And I

want to punch something.

Notes

No interpretation needed.

April 14: Poem 14

Sometimes
it's hard

to bear the crowbar

and pry open 
the foot locker

of secret thoughts

to puke them on a page.

On those days

I'd rather
go back to bed

and dream
of nothing.

Notes

I didn't feel like writing a poem today. I didn't want to write a poem today. I don't feel like dealing with feelings today. So, here's today's poem.