Gramps
quiet strength
calm patience
green hornet's
driving lessons
historic westerns
cherry trees
baseball games
yellowed cushions
he knew my scores and was always up on the records
he laughed at all of my jokes
Gramps
popcorn tears and oatmeal laughter
the last thing I have of him is gone.
Don't ask me why I cry.
Answers tend to confuse the memories
explained.
So quick to judge the intention of a tear.
So quick to disregard other's sorrow.
Why can't you just look at me, listen to my story and leave your judgment outside.
All I need right now is a friend.
Understand when you come upstairs and
find me sobbing over a bowl of popcorn, it isn't
the bowl.
the freshly made corn.
the butter loaded to
mask the burnt taste.
Look at that popper.
Useless piece of crap.
Why is it that I chose an appliance to hold my memories?
Gramps
Twenty years ago
would have oatmeal for breakfast and popcorn after dinner.
Every morning and every
night.
In between he would be outside working
or inside
in the living room
reading,
far away
from Grandma.
Growing up I began to understand
their love
understated for each other
a convenience
or a duty
but for
ME
unconditional
all that is right with the world
showed me so much
homemade root beer
ripe raspberries
digging brought magic in potatoes
hockey players appreciate unwavering devotion
the pleasures of roses and lilacs.
Gramps died.
He legacy was twofold ...
unforgettable memories
of a quiet man's genuine interest in a teenager trying to fit into this difficult world
listening to the seemingly bland stories of my day
AND
that damn popcorn popper.
Every time I used it, I felt him
sitting there
watching me instead of his Louis L'Amour
waiting
for me to share the moment
with him.
So don't judge my popcorn tears.
Just comprehend
why
the hot air
tastes
so much
better.
Thursday, February 26
Wednesday, February 25
wistful memory...
Regrets?
Celia
You grew up speaking Polish
You grew up dancing Polish
You grew up singing Polish
~~
Why were you so silent when you were grown?
Stasia
She remembers the twenty-five dollar piano
She remembers the opera with Grandpa
She remembers the cornmeal floor for the Boston Fancy
~~
Why were you so silent when you were grown?
Me
I wish it was you who smiled through the songs reminding of lost love
I wish it was you who remembers your mother's Polish lullabies
I wish it was you who sang to me at 97.
Now you are silent.
I am grown
and
missed your songs
- LLS 2007
Classroom Rationale
My Attempt to Slam Poetry Into My Students
Poetry is one of my favorite subjects to teach. But when in the past I
have taught poetry, I usually focus on form and function rather than
concepts and feeling. After my graduate work I have so many ideas
regarding how to incorporate poetry into my classroom in new and
different ways. I currently teach high school English that is a new position
for me this year. My general focus has been on understanding and
implementing the current curriculum. However one of my assignments
was to attend a slam poetry event. My focus has changed as a result of this.
One thing all of my students have in common is that they have
something to say. Unfortunately, there don’t seem to be as many outlets for
expressing these thoughts, ideas and feelings. Spoken poetry is meant to
be shared out loud and it usually is raw, engaging and definitely has
something to say. This is perfect for my assignment.
The day following my slam poetry event, I emailed Port Veritas (a
local slam poetry organization) to see if they would come to my school.
There reply was energizing:
“In general there are three ways to do a school workshop:
1. We do a general assembly (or single class meeting). We talk a bit
about what Slam is, where it came from and how to participate.
During this we perform some pieces. This is often followed by a
mock slam in which we compete against each other and the students
judge.
Poetry Presentation L. Stein
2. Essentially the same as one. However we have the students
compete and students or teachers judge.
3. Also the same as one but without the slam. Instead we spend the
last portion of the workshop working with students on their writing
and or performance.
In the past we have done these with either a large assembly or with
each individual class throughout the day. Whatever works best for
you. Let me know your thoughts and we'll see what we can come up
with.
Thanks for your interest. I look forward to hearing from you.”
I have spoken to my principal and I am going to make it happen. We
are working on dates now for March. Up to that time I plan to read and
share Geof Hewitt’s slam poetry guide. I am also working to add young
adult appropriate slam literature in my classroom. I have been researching
Taylor Mali (a great teacher slam poet) and plan to share his poetry from
‘YouTube’ with my classes.
Many students tend to dislike poetry. I find using any hook I can to
get them to appreciate the genre is worthwhile. Sure, slam poetry might
not involve direct study of the poetry classics, but students will have an
opportunity to play with the art form, appreciate words, and compete in
front of an audience. If I can get the students jazzed up about this poetic
genre then we can move onto the more traditional writing.
Poetry is one of my favorite subjects to teach. But when in the past I
have taught poetry, I usually focus on form and function rather than
concepts and feeling. After my graduate work I have so many ideas
regarding how to incorporate poetry into my classroom in new and
different ways. I currently teach high school English that is a new position
for me this year. My general focus has been on understanding and
implementing the current curriculum. However one of my assignments
was to attend a slam poetry event. My focus has changed as a result of this.
One thing all of my students have in common is that they have
something to say. Unfortunately, there don’t seem to be as many outlets for
expressing these thoughts, ideas and feelings. Spoken poetry is meant to
be shared out loud and it usually is raw, engaging and definitely has
something to say. This is perfect for my assignment.
The day following my slam poetry event, I emailed Port Veritas (a
local slam poetry organization) to see if they would come to my school.
There reply was energizing:
“In general there are three ways to do a school workshop:
1. We do a general assembly (or single class meeting). We talk a bit
about what Slam is, where it came from and how to participate.
During this we perform some pieces. This is often followed by a
mock slam in which we compete against each other and the students
judge.
Poetry Presentation L. Stein
2. Essentially the same as one. However we have the students
compete and students or teachers judge.
3. Also the same as one but without the slam. Instead we spend the
last portion of the workshop working with students on their writing
and or performance.
In the past we have done these with either a large assembly or with
each individual class throughout the day. Whatever works best for
you. Let me know your thoughts and we'll see what we can come up
with.
Thanks for your interest. I look forward to hearing from you.”
I have spoken to my principal and I am going to make it happen. We
are working on dates now for March. Up to that time I plan to read and
share Geof Hewitt’s slam poetry guide. I am also working to add young
adult appropriate slam literature in my classroom. I have been researching
Taylor Mali (a great teacher slam poet) and plan to share his poetry from
‘YouTube’ with my classes.
Many students tend to dislike poetry. I find using any hook I can to
get them to appreciate the genre is worthwhile. Sure, slam poetry might
not involve direct study of the poetry classics, but students will have an
opportunity to play with the art form, appreciate words, and compete in
front of an audience. If I can get the students jazzed up about this poetic
genre then we can move onto the more traditional writing.
Monday, February 23
Inspiration
"Don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come
alive and go do it, because what this world needs is
more people who have come alive."
-Howard Thurman
alive and go do it, because what this world needs is
more people who have come alive."
-Howard Thurman
A great example of a Slam Poem from a Maine Poet
Sample from Safe Harbor: Port Veritas Poetry Anthology, Volume I
Irony by Nate Amadon
This is irony in the 21st century.
If I had a gun I would shoot Charlton Heston right between his beady lil eyes.
And if I had the balls I'd take a copy of this poem stick it in a dictionary and mail it off to Alanis Morrissette. Irony is the clan I saw on TV the other day. 50 big bad assed rednecks singing Amazing Grace. We sing this at all of our rallies, Big Bubba the grand poobah stutters.I guess the reporter didn't have the gall to tell this big browed throwback that Amazing Grace was written by an ex slave trader who spent the latter half of his life repenting of his sins and speaking out against the atrocity of slavery. Not that it would matter to Bubba, even if I sent him a dictionary he wouldn't know how to spell atrocity.
Irony is a certain religious group railing on the gay community for years. Only to find out that getting on your knees at church doesn't necessarily have anything to do with prayer.
Irony is the Jaguar I saw on the street the other day. The license plate said DOT COM and in the rear window a white piece of paper with words FOR SALE scribbled with a sharpie. Okay that's not ironic but it is poetic. This is poetry in the 21st century. Ironic, sardonic and completely external. What's wrong with me is what's wrong with the world. Now that's irony, borderline. Paradox.
Irony by Nate Amadon
This is irony in the 21st century.
If I had a gun I would shoot Charlton Heston right between his beady lil eyes.
And if I had the balls I'd take a copy of this poem stick it in a dictionary and mail it off to Alanis Morrissette. Irony is the clan I saw on TV the other day. 50 big bad assed rednecks singing Amazing Grace. We sing this at all of our rallies, Big Bubba the grand poobah stutters.I guess the reporter didn't have the gall to tell this big browed throwback that Amazing Grace was written by an ex slave trader who spent the latter half of his life repenting of his sins and speaking out against the atrocity of slavery. Not that it would matter to Bubba, even if I sent him a dictionary he wouldn't know how to spell atrocity.
Irony is a certain religious group railing on the gay community for years. Only to find out that getting on your knees at church doesn't necessarily have anything to do with prayer.
Irony is the Jaguar I saw on the street the other day. The license plate said DOT COM and in the rear window a white piece of paper with words FOR SALE scribbled with a sharpie. Okay that's not ironic but it is poetic. This is poetry in the 21st century. Ironic, sardonic and completely external. What's wrong with me is what's wrong with the world. Now that's irony, borderline. Paradox.
Thursday, February 19
I Am From...
I am from a strong sensitive father
and a quiet unassuming mother.
An angry sister and
a swimming cat named Panda.
I am from the Green Hornet, the Red Baron
and the Magenta Mustang
cleverly disguised as a Mercury Tracer.
I am from raspberries, cherries and rhubarb
Root beer blowing up in my sister's eye.
Snickerdoodles for world peace
I am from the farm~white~solitary-
violets and lilacs
lady slippers and snowball bushes.
Cartwheels for ruby red lifesavers
I am from snakes and snapping turtles
Angry chickens and birthing kitties.
Girls don't hunt until they are married
I am from gorilla ballet-
grope and sway-
bloody toed two stepping -
and finally
"what beat?."
I am from
Love,
High Expectations,
Laughter
Integrity
LLS
Wednesday, February 18
for him...
Look at Yourself
For Once
For Once
Why do you take my picture?
Almost 40,
exhausted
shoulders curl,
laugh wrinkles
shadowed
by the scars,
overweight,
pale sallow
sunken skin,
straight
over-processed hair,
big feet with
nails cut to the vessels,
target
clothes too small,
tired
eyes mask pain.
When I see the images
I wonder
if you plan
to reveal
me,
show me
what I have
become or simply
take
advantage of
an opportunity
to bring the attention
from you to
me
Let me
have
the damn camera.
Almost 40,
exhausted
shoulders curl,
laugh wrinkles
shadowed
by the scars,
overweight,
pale sallow
sunken skin,
straight
over-processed hair,
big feet with
nails cut to the vessels,
target
clothes too small,
tired
eyes mask pain.
When I see the images
I wonder
if you plan
to reveal
me,
show me
what I have
become or simply
take
advantage of
an opportunity
to bring the attention
from you to
me
Let me
have
the damn camera.
LLS
Rate this Poem @ GotPoetry.com
help
Check out my polls on the right and give me your input? What do you think?
It would also be helpful if you would comment below any ideas for making this blog better. Thanks for your help.
It would also be helpful if you would comment below any ideas for making this blog better. Thanks for your help.
Tuesday, February 17
I wish I had written this one:
What a great poem from a new publication I just found. Check out the link to the right - From East to West. This is what I think he would think too...
Lost In Graceland
Elvis wanders through Graceland,
wonders why the rooms are roped off,
why strange women in Elvis tees,
scarves over their curlers, walk
through his house weeping.
He's tired of hearing Hound Dog
on the speakers, could care less
if he's anyone's Teddy Bear.
He wonders where Priscilla is,
why Lisa Marie looks right through him.
He doesn't get the supermarket jokes,
the bobbing Elvis dolls or why busloads
of strangers light candles outside every day.
He hears rumors he's dead but figures
the Colonel hid him, cooked that up for publicity.
Sometimes he takes a Caddy
out onto the Memphis streets,
shark fins cleaving a slipstream
gobbling the memories behind him.
He dreams of his sweet mama,
peanut butter and banana sandwiches,
quieter days in Tupelo.
Most of his sequins have fallen.
They leave a starry trail
to trace and retrace each night but
he trembles when a new one tumbles.
If they're gone before the Colonel returns,
how will he find his way?
Pris Campbell
©2008
Published in the Winter 2009 issue of From East to West
Friday, February 13
Wednesday, February 11
Poetry Resides in the Eye of the Ink?
my
writing pours from
a good fountain pen, yet
is stymied by ballpoint sludge
glorified pages drip
with brilliance
joyful clarity fills
wanton souls
impacted reality by ink or
the walls created
fathomable in height
excuses
fostering procrastination
lack of inspiration
Magic
manufactured inside
the pen's barrel?
not for this one
writing pours from
a good fountain pen, yet
is stymied by ballpoint sludge
glorified pages drip
with brilliance
joyful clarity fills
wanton souls
impacted reality by ink or
the walls created
fathomable in height
excuses
fostering procrastination
lack of inspiration
Magic
manufactured inside
the pen's barrel?
not for this one
Tuesday, February 10
list of top ranked poems by day
Check out this list... I made it to the top. Okay it is not the top 10 but pretty darned close...
Yesterday's Top Rank Name
01: maryanns
02: winterchild
03: CalebSmith1013
04: orchidmask
05: omegapaf
06: Huberjack
07: Woodster
08: realrhoda
09: oblivion05
10: edgar_b0914
11: LStein
12: VonBear
13: poetpaul
14: Sincerelynic...
15: spence
Yesterday's Top Rank Name
01: maryanns 02: winterchild 03: CalebSmith1013 04: orchidmask 05: omegapaf 06: Huberjack 07: Woodster 08: realrhoda 09: oblivion05 10: edgar_b0914 11: LStein 12: VonBear 13: poetpaul 14: Sincerelynic... 15: spence
my thought
I am really getting into the immediate feedback from this website. One person so far has told me not to write anymore... Ha - what does she know? I know that not all of my poems will be perfect but if I make a connection then they work for me. I definitely write from inspiration.
comments to vision. Wow!
| User's Average Rating: 7.7 | # of Ratings: 42 | ||
| Powerful. even more so in its summation. good work. kinda | |||
| By: JPerry1980 | | February 9, 2009 Reply |  |
| User's Average Rating: 7.8 | # of Ratings: 104 | ||
| Sharp, precise. I truly felt this too. God, I love your work. -- j. | |||
| By: Anonymous | | February 9, 2009 Reply | |
| I felt this one. | |||
Monday, February 9
too Perfect Vision
walls pulsate with passive anger
Eyes
bold, bright, brown
view poorly disguised intentions
two
in the morning
sleep medicine
taken by dreams
angered movie repeats
harsh words resonate
eyes forced wide
emptiness filled by him
warms the sunken sheets aside
hungered for love
we both
cling to
distant
memories of joy
I'm Sorry.
LLS
Rate this Poem @ GotPoetry.com
Eyes
bold, bright, brown
view poorly disguised intentions
two
in the morning
sleep medicine
taken by dreams
angered movie repeats
harsh words resonate
eyes forced wide
emptiness filled by him
warms the sunken sheets aside
hungered for love
we both
cling to
distant
memories of joy
I'm Sorry.
LLS
Rate this Poem @ GotPoetry.com
an apology to Stephanie
Stephanie-
Epitome of the program
You put your heart and soul into your
work
students
friends
BUT...
I'm sorry you are kinda short
I'm sorry you are remarkably unique
I'm sorry you have a dumb bike
I'm sorry it weighs too much too
I'm sorry you never paid for lunches
I'm sorry my Q-Tip topper and your Runway Model days are over
I'm sorry you have no idea how to play scrabble
I'm sorry you don't have a cool PC
I'm sorry you are naming your first born, Annette
I'm sorry your singing pales to mine
I'm sorry your creativity oozes out of you
Most of All
I'm sorry our 22 weekends with you must come to an end
Thank you for being my friend.
LLS
Epitome of the program
You put your heart and soul into your
work
students
friends
BUT...
I'm sorry you are kinda short
I'm sorry you are remarkably unique
I'm sorry you have a dumb bike
I'm sorry it weighs too much too
I'm sorry you never paid for lunches
I'm sorry my Q-Tip topper and your Runway Model days are over
I'm sorry you have no idea how to play scrabble
I'm sorry you don't have a cool PC
I'm sorry you are naming your first born, Annette
I'm sorry your singing pales to mine
I'm sorry your creativity oozes out of you
Most of All
I'm sorry our 22 weekends with you must come to an end
Thank you for being my friend.
LLS
Friday, February 6
updated poem...it's better
What I Think
(a teacher’s perspective)
I teach and
I think
You know what I think?
I think
America Sucks.
Whose fault is it anyway?
We are a society who likes to blame someone
anyone
It doesn’t matter to me
What god you do or don’t believe in
Whether or not he, she, or it did or didn’t create this messed up world
Whether or not you do or don’t go to church
America is still fucked up
You might think it is because
My alarm didn’t work today
My coffee maker needs a new carafe
The kitty’s litter is filled with more feces
(you thought I was going to say ‘ shit’, eh. Nope, gratuitous swearing is overrated)
-more feces than the actually stench erasing pebbles
My kids’ growth is stunted by an intense hatred of all foods healthy
Or even the fact that
I’m in a difficult relationship…
No.
At this point in my professionally inspire rant I must say that I firmly believe all that is wrong with the country can be broken down
into one concept,
one social group
an aspect of our society which holds so much power over the next generation
Parents
Did you know that I am a parent too?
I am certainly not talking about them all
You know the ones I am talking about:
Parents
who live vicariously through their children
who know their child will be in the NFL before college
who live to become their child’s best friend because they didn’t learn the social friend making skills and think it is important to have a BFF spawn
who pay “Time Warner Cable” for the daily after school childcare
who don’t understand the concept of adolescent obesity…
who buy their child’s love just so their eX doesn’t win the love meter battle
who see their offspring only on the weekends but are bothered by the fact that it might interfere with happy hour…
who think high school was hard for them so it will be hard for their kid
who can’t read 5 books so don’t expect their kid to either
who hated you when you taught them years ago
who bring in the homework their kids forgot on the kitchen counter because they know it is not their child’s responsibility
Of course
What about parents
who do the work for them
who still pick out the clothes and comb the hair of their teenager
who think it is totally appropriate for their child to tell you how much he hates you in such a way that you know rudeness and cruelty are a way of life
who smack, neglect, or abuse their child in public
Physically, spiritually, sexually, intellectually, emotionally, even unintentionally
Last of all
Parents who don’t identify at least a little bit with one of these examples
So I am printing a pretty negative picture?
How many of you have I pissed off?
How many people will be listening saying either
this isn’t me or
that will never be me
As a teacher I am not sure if I can stop blaming the idea of ‘parents’
some ARE at fault
Instead of lamenting over the fact that this country sucks, I could write a poem,
then
make a clean break.
I have passed the responsibility to you
as a parent of one of my students.
So, what do we do if America sucks?
It is our generation.
We are responsible for it.
We can save it
So
Don’t fuck it up
(a teacher’s perspective)
I teach and
I think
You know what I think?
I think
America Sucks.
Whose fault is it anyway?
We are a society who likes to blame someone
anyone
It doesn’t matter to me
What god you do or don’t believe in
Whether or not he, she, or it did or didn’t create this messed up world
Whether or not you do or don’t go to church
America is still fucked up
You might think it is because
My alarm didn’t work today
My coffee maker needs a new carafe
The kitty’s litter is filled with more feces
(you thought I was going to say ‘ shit’, eh. Nope, gratuitous swearing is overrated)
-more feces than the actually stench erasing pebbles
My kids’ growth is stunted by an intense hatred of all foods healthy
Or even the fact that
I’m in a difficult relationship…
No.
At this point in my professionally inspire rant I must say that I firmly believe all that is wrong with the country can be broken down
into one concept,
one social group
an aspect of our society which holds so much power over the next generation
Parents
Did you know that I am a parent too?
I am certainly not talking about them all
You know the ones I am talking about:
Parents
who live vicariously through their children
who know their child will be in the NFL before college
who live to become their child’s best friend because they didn’t learn the social friend making skills and think it is important to have a BFF spawn
who pay “Time Warner Cable” for the daily after school childcare
who don’t understand the concept of adolescent obesity…
who buy their child’s love just so their eX doesn’t win the love meter battle
who see their offspring only on the weekends but are bothered by the fact that it might interfere with happy hour…
who think high school was hard for them so it will be hard for their kid
who can’t read 5 books so don’t expect their kid to either
who hated you when you taught them years ago
who bring in the homework their kids forgot on the kitchen counter because they know it is not their child’s responsibility
Of course
What about parents
who do the work for them
who still pick out the clothes and comb the hair of their teenager
who think it is totally appropriate for their child to tell you how much he hates you in such a way that you know rudeness and cruelty are a way of life
who smack, neglect, or abuse their child in public
Physically, spiritually, sexually, intellectually, emotionally, even unintentionally
Last of all
Parents who don’t identify at least a little bit with one of these examples
So I am printing a pretty negative picture?
How many of you have I pissed off?
How many people will be listening saying either
this isn’t me or
that will never be me
As a teacher I am not sure if I can stop blaming the idea of ‘parents’
some ARE at fault
Instead of lamenting over the fact that this country sucks, I could write a poem,
then
make a clean break.
I have passed the responsibility to you
as a parent of one of my students.
So, what do we do if America sucks?
It is our generation.
We are responsible for it.
We can save it
So
Don’t fuck it up
what Teech said...
Wow - I didn't realize how difficult listening to others talk about my writing could be. I get so nervous but this is a great process. LLS
HSTeech wrote:
Welcome to the forums, LStein. You have given us a great deal to think about here. You bring up some ideas that do bear some focused thought!
I am also a teacher, and I understand where these feelings are coming from. Parents are no doubt the most miserable part of my job! (Followed by a close second: administration!)
This rant is not quite prose, and not quite poetry. As a performance piece that may work pretty well. (You might consider having this moved to the Page and Stage forum) However, I don't feel like it sustains the audience's attention. I would suggest making into two poems, which may even be companion pieces, but separate.
why the ellipses in the end lines?
Lots of totally legitimate ideas in there, LStein. I look forward to seeing what becomes of this piece! Teech
HSTeech wrote:
Welcome to the forums, LStein. You have given us a great deal to think about here. You bring up some ideas that do bear some focused thought!
I am also a teacher, and I understand where these feelings are coming from. Parents are no doubt the most miserable part of my job! (Followed by a close second: administration!)
This rant is not quite prose, and not quite poetry. As a performance piece that may work pretty well. (You might consider having this moved to the Page and Stage forum) However, I don't feel like it sustains the audience's attention. I would suggest making into two poems, which may even be companion pieces, but separate.
why the ellipses in the end lines?
Lots of totally legitimate ideas in there, LStein. I look forward to seeing what becomes of this piece! Teech
Thursday, February 5
Learning to Drive at 32
I should have learned to do this years ago:
maueuver a car in and out of traffic,
gliding my vehicle swiftly down the highway
as if I'd been doing it all my life, as if
I hadn't been crouched in the back seat
those Sunday afternoons my father tried
to teach my mother to drive: no, woman,
you daft or something, I swear I'll leave
you right here-his voice filling the car
as she fumbled with the wheel, hands clumsy,
car lurching then stopping as she fought
for control. I should have learned before
now, at thirty-two, my driver's ed vehicle
careening into a parked van, my foot
stuck on the accelerator I think is the brake,
hands atrophied on the wheel, my instructor
slamming his foot on the second brake
as we crash, metal on metal, impact
fracturing the van's windshield to a web
of damage. Should have known I'd make
a mess of this-going too fast or too slow,
not looking left and right, wrong foot
on the accelerator, wrong foot on the brake.
I shouldn't have remembered-my father,
still calling her stupid, my mother, head
down, arms folded, not saying anything
except all right, all right, you drive.
A. Joseph
maueuver a car in and out of traffic,
gliding my vehicle swiftly down the highway
as if I'd been doing it all my life, as if
I hadn't been crouched in the back seat
those Sunday afternoons my father tried
to teach my mother to drive: no, woman,
you daft or something, I swear I'll leave
you right here-his voice filling the car
as she fumbled with the wheel, hands clumsy,
car lurching then stopping as she fought
for control. I should have learned before
now, at thirty-two, my driver's ed vehicle
careening into a parked van, my foot
stuck on the accelerator I think is the brake,
hands atrophied on the wheel, my instructor
slamming his foot on the second brake
as we crash, metal on metal, impact
fracturing the van's windshield to a web
of damage. Should have known I'd make
a mess of this-going too fast or too slow,
not looking left and right, wrong foot
on the accelerator, wrong foot on the brake.
I shouldn't have remembered-my father,
still calling her stupid, my mother, head
down, arms folded, not saying anything
except all right, all right, you drive.
A. Joseph
publishing
Finally! I was brave enough to 'publish' a couple of my poems online. I will let you know what others think. Honest - I will include the good and (say it ain't so) bad.
Wednesday, February 4
Yet Another Sucky Poem
(not sure about my fascination with the word, 'suck' but it is a common thread in my slam poetry...maybe that will be the name of my new book - Sucky Poetry - I am sure millions will buy it. At any rate; here goes)
I teach
and
I think
You know what I think?
I think….
America Sucks.
Whose fault is it anyway?
We are a society who likes to blame someone - anyone
Anyone except ourselves…
I am not talking about the mayor
I am not talking about the governor
Or even the incredibly fit, hot, new president…
(Change is good)
I’m not talking about religion…
It doesn’t matter to me
what god you do or don’t believe in
Whether or not he, she, or it did or didn’t create this messed up world
Whether or not you do or don’t go to church
America is still fucked up
What is that you say? Teachers don’t say ‘fucked.’ At what point are you going to stop looking at what I am saying to focus on what is happening around us? Think about what you are saying, not saying, doing or not doing. I am just an individual with an opinion and because I am a teacher doesn’t mean I can’t still have a loud boisterous opinion…
and I say…
America is still fucked up…
You think it might be the economy? Yeah that sucks too but it’s not what I am talking about…
I am not talking about the fact that
into one concept,
one social group…
an aspect of our society which holds so much power over the next generation…
Parents who live vicariously through their children because their own childhood sucked
Parents who know their child will be in the NFL before college
Parents who live to become their child’s best friend because they didn’t learn the social friend making skills and think it is important to have a BFF spawn
Parents who pay the babysitter, “Time Warner Cable” for the daily after school childcare
Parents who don’t understand the concept of adolescent obesity…
Parents who buy their child’s love just so their eX doesn’t win the love meter battle
“Of course I understand the new playstation I just gave you totally outranks the new one I bought for you two months ago. It is all because I love you and your daddy doesn’t…”
Parents who see their offspring only on the weekends but are bothered by the fact that it might interfere with happy hour…
Parents who think high school was hard for them so it will be hard for their kid
Parents who can’t read 5 books so don’t expect their kid to either
Parents who had you as a teacher…those are sometimes the worst…
“Oh Ms. Stein – yeah she was a bitch when I was in her class too – let’s see if we can get you out of it because you don’t deserve the stress especially during cheering season.”
Parents who still pick out the clothes and comb the hair of their teenager
Parents who bring in the homework their kids forgot on the kitchen counter because they know it is not their child’s responsibility
Of course ...not to mention...
Parents who do the work for them
Parents who think it is totally appropriate for their child to tell you how much he hates you in such a way that you know rudeness and cruelty are a way of life for the family…
Parents, who smack, neglect or abuse their child in public
Physically, spiritually, sexually, intellectually, emotionally, even unintentionally
Last of all
Parents who don’t identify a least a little bit withone of these examples…
So I am printing a pretty negative picture?
How many of you have I ticked off?
Did you know that I am a parent too?
Oh believe me - I am probably just as fucked up as the rest of the parents of the world (yup there is that word – not gratuitous that time)
Really when I think of it, How many people will be listening saying either “this isn’t me” or “that will never be me”
At least I am strong enough to say my intentions are to never screw up my sons’ lives but forgive myself if and when I falter…
The last thing I can do, as a
Parent, is to
walk away from this rant,
accept the blame for some issues with the country.
As a teacher I am not sure if I can stop blaming the parents –
some ARE at fault…
Instead of lamenting over the fact that this country sucks, I could write a poem – slam my intentions and then make a clean break –
I have passed the responsibility to you – as a parent of one of my students…
So what do we do if America sucks?
It is our generation.
We are responsible for it.
We can save it …
So…
Don’t fuck it up…
LLS
I teach
and
I think
You know what I think?
I think….
America Sucks.
Whose fault is it anyway?
We are a society who likes to blame someone - anyone
Anyone except ourselves…
I am not talking about the mayor
I am not talking about the governor
Or even the incredibly fit, hot, new president…
(Change is good)
I’m not talking about religion…
It doesn’t matter to me
what god you do or don’t believe in
Whether or not he, she, or it did or didn’t create this messed up world
Whether or not you do or don’t go to church
America is still fucked up
What is that you say? Teachers don’t say ‘fucked.’ At what point are you going to stop looking at what I am saying to focus on what is happening around us? Think about what you are saying, not saying, doing or not doing. I am just an individual with an opinion and because I am a teacher doesn’t mean I can’t still have a loud boisterous opinion…
and I say…
America is still fucked up…
You think it might be the economy? Yeah that sucks too but it’s not what I am talking about…
I am not talking about the fact that
- My alarm didn’t work today
- My coffee maker needs a new carafe
- The kitty’s litter is filled with more feces (you thought I was going to say ‘ shit’ eh… nope – gratuitous swearing is overrated)
- more feces than the actually stench erasing pebbles
- My kids’ growth is stunted by an intense hatred of all foods healthy
- I’m in a difficult relationship…
into one concept,
one social group…
an aspect of our society which holds so much power over the next generation…
Parents…
You know the ones I am talking about Parents who live vicariously through their children because their own childhood sucked
Parents who know their child will be in the NFL before college
Parents who live to become their child’s best friend because they didn’t learn the social friend making skills and think it is important to have a BFF spawn
Parents who pay the babysitter, “Time Warner Cable” for the daily after school childcare
Parents who don’t understand the concept of adolescent obesity…
Parents who buy their child’s love just so their eX doesn’t win the love meter battle
“Of course I understand the new playstation I just gave you totally outranks the new one I bought for you two months ago. It is all because I love you and your daddy doesn’t…”
Parents who see their offspring only on the weekends but are bothered by the fact that it might interfere with happy hour…
Parents who think high school was hard for them so it will be hard for their kid
Parents who can’t read 5 books so don’t expect their kid to either
Parents who had you as a teacher…those are sometimes the worst…
“Oh Ms. Stein – yeah she was a bitch when I was in her class too – let’s see if we can get you out of it because you don’t deserve the stress especially during cheering season.”
Parents who still pick out the clothes and comb the hair of their teenager
Parents who bring in the homework their kids forgot on the kitchen counter because they know it is not their child’s responsibility
Of course ...not to mention...
Parents who do the work for them
Parents who think it is totally appropriate for their child to tell you how much he hates you in such a way that you know rudeness and cruelty are a way of life for the family…
Parents, who smack, neglect or abuse their child in public
Physically, spiritually, sexually, intellectually, emotionally, even unintentionally
Last of all
Parents who don’t identify a least a little bit withone of these examples…
So I am printing a pretty negative picture?
How many of you have I ticked off?
Did you know that I am a parent too?
Oh believe me - I am probably just as fucked up as the rest of the parents of the world (yup there is that word – not gratuitous that time)
Really when I think of it, How many people will be listening saying either “this isn’t me” or “that will never be me”
At least I am strong enough to say my intentions are to never screw up my sons’ lives but forgive myself if and when I falter…
The last thing I can do, as a
Parent, is to
walk away from this rant,
accept the blame for some issues with the country.
As a teacher I am not sure if I can stop blaming the parents –
some ARE at fault…
Instead of lamenting over the fact that this country sucks, I could write a poem – slam my intentions and then make a clean break –
I have passed the responsibility to you – as a parent of one of my students…
So what do we do if America sucks?
It is our generation.
We are responsible for it.
We can save it …
So…
Don’t fuck it up…
LLS
Beware: take a breath at the end - wow
Careful What You Ask For
I was just old enough
to be out on the sidewalk by myself,
and every day I would come home crying,
beaten up by the same little girl.
I was Jackie, the firstborn,
the apple of every eye,
gratuitous meanness bewildered me,
and as soon as she'd hit me,
I'd bawl like a baby.
I knew that boys were not supposed to cry,
but they weren't supposed to hit girls either,
and I was shocked when my father said,
"Hit her back."
I thought it sounded like a great idea,
but the only thing I remember
about that girl today
is the look that came over her face
after I did hit her back.
She didn't cry; instead
her eyes got narrow and I thought,
"Jackie, you just made a terrible mistake,"
and she really beat the crap out of me.
It was years before I trusted my father's advice again.
I eventually learned to fight--
enough to protect myself--
from girls--
but the real issue was the crying,
and that hasn't gone away.
Oh, I don't cry any more, I don't sob, I don't make
noise, I just have hairtrigger tearducts, and always
at all the wrong things: Tom Bodett saying, "We'll leave
the light on for ya;" I cry at the last scene of
Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.
In movies I despise the easy manipulation
that never even bothers to engage my feelings,
it just comes straight for my eyes,
but there's not a damn thing I can do about it,
and I hate myself for it.
The surreptitious noseblow a discreet
four minutes after the operative scene;
my daughters are on to me, my wife;
they all know exactly when to give me that quick,
sidelong glance. What must they think of me?
In real life I don't cry any more
when things hurt. Never a tear at seventeen
when my mother died, my father.
I never cried for my first marriage.
But today I often cry when things turn out well:
an unexpected act of simple human decency;
new evidence, against all odds,
of how much someone loves me.
I think all this is why I never wanted a son.
I always supposed my son would be like me,
and that when he'd cry it would bring back
every indelible humiliation of my own life,
and in some word or gesture
I'd betray what I was feeling,
and he'd mistake, and think I was ashamed of him.
He'd carry that the rest of his life.
Daughters are easy: you pick them up,
you hug them, you say, "There there.
Everything is going to be all right."
And for that moment you really believe
that you can make enough of it right
enough. The unskilled labor of love.
And if you cry a little with them for all
the inevitable gratuitous meannesses of life,
that crying is not to be ashamed of.
But for years my great fear was the moment
I might have to deal with a crying son.
But I don't have one.
We came close once, between Megan and Kathleen;
the doctors warned us there was something wrong,
and when Joan went into labor they said
the baby would be born dead.
But he wasn't: very briefly,
before he died, I heard him cry.
Jack McCarthy
you can also view his performance on youtube:
Jack McCarthy performs "Careful What You Ask For"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3sCTrsAAQq
A Guide
Following are guidelines regarding a poetry slam session. Although most slams follow the same rules these have been taken from Port Veritas, a local artists group which specializes in slam poetry.
Poetry Slam Guidelines
1. Anyone wishing to slam is welcome to sign up.
2. Each poet should come with three original pieces.
3. The slam takes place over three rounds
4. The first round consists of all the slammers, the second and third rounds slammers will be dropped off based on score.
5. Each piece must be three minutes or less. Poets are given a ten second grace period. After that a half point will be deducted for every ten minutes past the three minute mark.
6. Poets may not use props.
7. Poets are scored by random audience members on a scale of one to ten.Ten being the highest. Judges are encouraged to use decimal points to avoid ties.
8. The highest and lowest score for each poet will be dropped.
Poetry Slam Guidelines
1. Anyone wishing to slam is welcome to sign up.
2. Each poet should come with three original pieces.
3. The slam takes place over three rounds
4. The first round consists of all the slammers, the second and third rounds slammers will be dropped off based on score.
5. Each piece must be three minutes or less. Poets are given a ten second grace period. After that a half point will be deducted for every ten minutes past the three minute mark.
6. Poets may not use props.
7. Poets are scored by random audience members on a scale of one to ten.Ten being the highest. Judges are encouraged to use decimal points to avoid ties.
8. The highest and lowest score for each poet will be dropped.
ideas...a moment in time
growth/love/birth/diapers/doing it alone/wishing on a star/ethics/
finding peace/
yoga vs. chocolate /hair color/high school/zits/popularity/nails/water/
finding peace/
cracked fingers/splinters/music/voting/public policy/culture/change/war/
finding peace/
chances/ missed opportunities/ poor spelling/math/ unidentified food in the fridge/
finding peace/
sister/envy/anger/forgiveness/obesity/willpower/smoking/spelling/biking/falling/
finding peace...
to continue...
finding peace/
yoga vs. chocolate /hair color/high school/zits/popularity/nails/water/
finding peace/
cracked fingers/splinters/music/voting/public policy/culture/change/war/
finding peace/
chances/ missed opportunities/ poor spelling/math/ unidentified food in the fridge/
finding peace/
sister/envy/anger/forgiveness/obesity/willpower/smoking/spelling/biking/falling/
finding peace...
to continue...
ode to Linda...
My job is to write
so that my feelings creep
through my pen onto the page-
Carving and caressing
ideas and images,
events and eulogies.
Thoughts transcend time
Transported through your eyes and ears
Burrowing deep into your soul.
If you feel an ounce of my emotion
as you share my words...
My success is evident in your
tears.
LLS
so that my feelings creep
through my pen onto the page-
Carving and caressing
ideas and images,
events and eulogies.
Thoughts transcend time
Transported through your eyes and ears
Burrowing deep into your soul.
If you feel an ounce of my emotion
as you share my words...
My success is evident in your
tears.
LLS
Below you will find some folks who have written, performed, and posted amazing slam poems online. There is some controversial information located here but as I have found in my research and experience, the thrill of this poetry is to speak your voice and for once in 'civilized' society not care who doesn't agree because those who do will certainly outweigh those who don't. I love the edginess. The four I chose here are truly inspirational to me. Each poem advances in terms of seemingly inappropriate language but they are all worth listening to for the message. Enjoy! L
Scratch & Dent Dreams--Slam Poetry
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JfTa4B7wQ_8
Taylor Mali on what teachers make
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RxsOVK4syxU
Big Poppa E - Propers (Seattle Poetry Slam)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TnhiqOsx05c
National Youth Poetry Slam Finalists "Culture"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FjAMHQ3dLDk
Scratch & Dent Dreams--Slam Poetry
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JfTa4B7wQ_8
Taylor Mali on what teachers make
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RxsOVK4syxU
Big Poppa E - Propers (Seattle Poetry Slam)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TnhiqOsx05c
National Youth Poetry Slam Finalists "Culture"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FjAMHQ3dLDk
Another Sucky Poem
Who are YOU
Standing there saying
my poem
sucks?
You-there
with your abusive pain
seemingly so smug –
Therapy years brought you
to this place.
A place where your word
cries the pain,
shouts the anger,
understands the
misunderstood.
You
no longer have to feel
INSIDE
because you give us your
Pain,
Anger,
Misunderstandings.
Are you
expecting me to own it
just because
mine isn’t so
out there?
I don’t shout to the world
My Life Sucks Too!
My parents-
take me for granted
My sister-
self-centered and cruel
No Beatings-
No shoutings –
No neglecting –
BUT,
When Mom and Dad die,
I’ll have no family.
So,
when you hear me
focus on the
funny-
quirksome -
magical-
don’t tell me my poetry
sucks.
I don’t need to cry out for it
to mean something
to be Literary.
I don’t need to say
“Fuck, Damn, or Bitch”
For you to say I can write
Let me do my thing.
I Give myself…
Permission to
Be Positive -
Permission to
Take mediocre joys
Bring them to you
As a
GIFT
For one split moment
You and I
Join the universe in a
Single Solitary Smile
This moment
Should never
Suck!
LLS
Who are YOU
Standing there saying
my poem
sucks?
You-there
with your abusive pain
seemingly so smug –
Therapy years brought you
to this place.
A place where your word
cries the pain,
shouts the anger,
understands the
misunderstood.
You
no longer have to feel
INSIDE
because you give us your
Pain,
Anger,
Misunderstandings.
Are you
expecting me to own it
just because
mine isn’t so
out there?
I don’t shout to the world
My Life Sucks Too!
My parents-
take me for granted
My sister-
self-centered and cruel
No Beatings-
No shoutings –
No neglecting –
BUT,
When Mom and Dad die,
I’ll have no family.
So,
when you hear me
focus on the
funny-
quirksome -
magical-
don’t tell me my poetry
sucks.
I don’t need to cry out for it
to mean something
to be Literary.
I don’t need to say
“Fuck, Damn, or Bitch”
For you to say I can write
Let me do my thing.
I Give myself…
Permission to
Be Positive -
Permission to
Take mediocre joys
Bring them to you
As a
GIFT
For one split moment
You and I
Join the universe in a
Single Solitary Smile
This moment
Should never
Suck!
LLS
IMAGE
mirrors
SMILE-PRIMP-SUCK
mirrors
who is this reflection?
who is looking?
why can't I get out of my own way?
but, if I...
SMILE-PRIMP-SUCK
maybe nobody will notice..
except ME (imagine)
LLS
SMILE-PRIMP-SUCK
mirrors
who is this reflection?
who is looking?
why can't I get out of my own way?
but, if I...
SMILE-PRIMP-SUCK
maybe nobody will notice..
except ME (imagine)
LLS
Thank You
Until the moment they realize the favor being done,
Only few will understand, the rest just think it's fun.
You have honestly put forth a new reality:
Knowledge paints the picture of our society. Never underestimate the power that glistens but is never seen,
America runs off this power, and lacking that which it runs causes gaps in between the 'us' and 'them' of our democracy.
Hostility and anger result as the unawareness transitions into indecency.
Therefore the misunderstanding that occurs every day of the world around us, and the position we lay regarding war and unhappiness, with lives being taken and hearts being broken.
Not only because of the choices that were make, but the words that weren't spoken.
I now know that knowledge is more important now of all times.
Every word that we're taught and all the facts that we're told were taught for a reason and that reason is gold.
Though it could mean different, gold doesn't imply money.
Shining and glistening, like gold could be, that 'gold' is the power that we can't physically see.
Shining brighter than ever, knowledge is the power you give, letting us all get a grasp on the life we will live.
Reality is put forth in so many words; it just depends on how you interpret the words you have heard.
Many words have been heard, but what I see is that you, my teacher, give that shining gift to me.
Thank you so much for everything you've taught me because never in my life will I be able to find something nearly as valuable as knowledge. And, for a little knoledge to give you: take each capital letter in this poem, in order, and put the resulting words backwards. By Alanna (a former student of mine)
Only few will understand, the rest just think it's fun.
You have honestly put forth a new reality:
Knowledge paints the picture of our society. Never underestimate the power that glistens but is never seen,
America runs off this power, and lacking that which it runs causes gaps in between the 'us' and 'them' of our democracy.
Hostility and anger result as the unawareness transitions into indecency.
Therefore the misunderstanding that occurs every day of the world around us, and the position we lay regarding war and unhappiness, with lives being taken and hearts being broken.
Not only because of the choices that were make, but the words that weren't spoken.
I now know that knowledge is more important now of all times.
Every word that we're taught and all the facts that we're told were taught for a reason and that reason is gold.
Though it could mean different, gold doesn't imply money.
Shining and glistening, like gold could be, that 'gold' is the power that we can't physically see.
Shining brighter than ever, knowledge is the power you give, letting us all get a grasp on the life we will live.
Reality is put forth in so many words; it just depends on how you interpret the words you have heard.
Many words have been heard, but what I see is that you, my teacher, give that shining gift to me.
Thank you so much for everything you've taught me because never in my life will I be able to find something nearly as valuable as knowledge. And, for a little knoledge to give you: take each capital letter in this poem, in order, and put the resulting words backwards. By Alanna (a former student of mine)
Children change everything...
Chiquita
Chiquita Bananas
Elicit Images of Youth
Overripe ~ Yellow ~ Tainted Black
A Song in My Head
A Bitten Attack
Soft Silk Slides
Bright Smiling Joy
I Can Still Dance Like Her
Save Stickers for Memories
But
Today
"eat the damn banana"
"it is good for you"
"don't leave the peel on the table"
"was your sticky hands"
"it's on your shirt"
"william, what is this?"
"a sticker"
Chiquita Banana
da da da da duh duh
BRINGS ME BACK
L.L.S.
Chiquita Bananas
Elicit Images of Youth
Overripe ~ Yellow ~ Tainted Black
A Song in My Head
A Bitten Attack
Soft Silk Slides
Bright Smiling Joy
I Can Still Dance Like Her
Save Stickers for Memories
But
Today
"eat the damn banana"
"it is good for you"
"don't leave the peel on the table"
"was your sticky hands"
"it's on your shirt"
"william, what is this?"
"a sticker"
Chiquita Banana
da da da da duh duh
BRINGS ME BACK
L.L.S.
teaching
Lost
in a Universe
teens Cultivating minds
outsIde the classroom
sadly No words
Draw them in
Apathetic wasteland
L.L.S.
in a Universe
teens Cultivating minds
outsIde the classroom
sadly No words
Draw them in
Apathetic wasteland
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