Poetry 101

I have always described myself as a reluctant poet. I never really thought about the actual words. I meant to call myself a non-poet, but the reluctant part implies that, subconsciously at least, believe there is something of the poet inside me. And after exploring this side of myself over the past couple weeks, and at the urging of a few people, I decided to publish some rough drafts of my own poetry.

The origins of "How Long Does It Have To Be?" come from a writing prompt the first time I presented a teacher workshop on the non-poet's Introduction to Slam Poetry a few years ago.

I worked on it a little more before my latest workshop on it. Good thing, too. When my technology cut out on me at the end, leaving me without the slam poetry video clip I meant to end with, or even a secondary choice, I had to do something to avoid ending on such a down note. So I got out my notebook and read this poem. It's still rough, definitely needs some work, but I had a request to share it. So here it is:

 

Rough Cut:

“How Long Does It Have To Be?”

You know the feeling,

you work long and hard

developing a writing assignment that will challenge students

to think

to inquire

to reflect

to perspire.

Painstaking efforts go into drafting and describing it.

You are excited; you know the students will be excited.

And as you’re about to fire the figurative starting gun

to let them go off to the races,

a single innocent hand arises:

“How long does it have to be?”

The question stops you for just a second.

You recover with the well-prepared answer:

“As long as it takes.”

The expression of the students who owns the hand

turns from question to exasperation,

infecting a few faces around him.

 “Why does every freakin’ English teacher say that?”

A million thoughts flash through the teaching mind,

sorting through the chaff,

discarding the hugely inappropriate,

looking for that perfect “teaching moment” answer.

“Is that true? Does every English teacher say that?

Have I used that on this class before?

When’s the last time I used it?

Am I repeating myself?

Am I … gulp … unoriginal?

No! You’re the unoriginal one.

Every student asks that.

Why don’t you trust yourself,

Write til you’re done?

Why not avoid being lazy and ask the exact length

so you can write to the minimum word count and end exactly there,

sometimes in mid-sent…

Why does every freakin’ English teacher say that?

Could it be because it’s true?

Is it just a conspiracy designed to brainwash all students?

Is it in the text Everything You Wanted to Know About Teaching English, but Were Afraid Someone Would Ask?

Am I just pure evil?

Are you in hell?

Am I?

AYKM (Are you Kidding Me)?

OMG?!”

The agape mouths in the classroom audience tell me

as an expert reader of young minds

that what I though was a masterful display of teacher “wait time”

was not.

I withheld my last question for myself alone:

“Did I say that out loud?”

The original unoriginal student is the first to blink.

He slumps back into his desk, crosses his arms

and asks one final thing:

“Are you just gonna keep asking questions?”

I recover quickly.

“Of course. That’s what I do.

As long as it takes.”