Sunday, October 23, 2011

Poetry 102

I may have to change my description as a reluctant poet. Seems as though since I have been exploring poetry to teach it, I have been thinking in those terms, too. On Friday, the morning after I presented my teacher workshop Introduction to Slam Poetry, I was listening to a radio news story about a 2-year-old Chinese girl who was run over by two cars. Video of the accident created a furor because it shows 18 people driving or walking past without helping the girl. The latest news in the story was that she had died. Immediately, what flashed into my head were the lines: "She was only 2. They were 18." And I continued writing lines in my head as I drove.


Later that morning, I was in a workshop led by slam poet Taylor Mali. (See my interview with him in a future post.) I wanted to continue working on the piece, but he gave us a separate prompt. He wanted us to describe something that had happened to us, something true, and to write it as one sentence. Near the end of the 5-minute free write, he asked us to include three adjectives in a row. A minute later, he asked us to add a rhyme. I never thought I could write within those parameters, but I quickly decided that I could adapt some of the thoughts from my morning drive. Then I found myself wanting to share it when Taylor sought audience volunteers.

I thought the highlight was winning a rock-paper-scissors contest that Taylor made another male teacher and myself battle to be the last presenter. Or getting a critique of my poem/presentation from Taylor. But it was actually having people come up to me afterward saying how they liked it, how it touched them, and I had requests for a copy of the poem.

So here it is, the unedited rough version of the 5-minute free write, followed by the DVD extras of "Behind the Scenes" of the Poem and an Alternate Poem (or a rough draft of the original poem developed on the morning drive).


ROUGH CUT:
ODE TO TAYLOR MALI AND A TWO-YEAR-OLD FROM CHINA,
or HEY WORLD, WAKE THE F*** UP

This morning, before my wife and two little girls woke up
and I got to kiss them goodbye
and wish them a fantastic day,
as I went off to meet a poet who has inspired me –
me, an admitted non-poet
or a “reluctant poet” within the mixed company of my English teaching family –
and tell him how he’s gotten me to think in verse,
I heard a story on the radio
about a 2-year-old from China
who laid on the ground for several minutes
after getting run over by two cars
and 18 people drove or walked past her
not a single one stopping to help,
and she died today,
and all I could think was
how uncaring
how unseeing
how desperately oblivious
we – as a society –are today
to watch one single child die,
and we say goodbye
to a child
a future
an innocent life,
but hopefully we can use this as a lesson,
and I am glad I kissed my girls today
and wished them a fanstastic day.


DVD EXTRA #1
Behind the Scenes of the 5-minute Free Write Poem:

Phew! What may or may not be obvious to audience members at the workshop was how nervous I was, shaking in my chest and in my legs, even though I am used to being up in front of people. What no one there knew was that my use of profanity (the "F-bomb" in the title) is something that is part of the spirit of the piece, and not a word that I'm used to using. And what Taylor couldn't know, as he commented post-poem that he is not necessary in the piece, is that it wasn't a sucking-up or patronizing tactic, but rather was an actual part of the story, keeping it true.


DVD EXTRA #2
Alternate Poem

When I got home, I shared the story with my wife and kids. And then I went to finishing the original poem I was thinking in my car. So here is that one:


ROUGH CUT: 
SHE WAS ONLY TWO

She was only 2.
They were 18.
She lay bleeding and suffering on the sidewalk.
They drove or walked by, unblinking, unseeing, unhelping.

She was only 2.
They are 1.3 billion.
They are evolving to a fast-paced, consumer-driven economic power full of hope.
She was evolving into a beautiful life, as any toddler, full of hope.

She was only 2.
We are 7 billion.
She, like any child, looked at the world with searching eyes.
We race through life, seeing only the next thing we “need” to do, the next thing we “need” to buy, the last thing we did, the last person who screwed us, and a hundred million other pieces of f***ing nonsense.

Our children are our future.
But they are also our teachers, teaching us
how to slow down
how to enjoy,
if only we will watch and listen
with open eyes and a caring heart,
not pass them by
without a second look.

She was only 2.

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