Inbox of poems:
April’s blooming gift of words
Transforms a Tuesday
I do love all the poetry that is around this time of year, but I am starting to get a little overstimulated by it all, and to wish that it would be a little more spread out over the months. Nancie Atwell says somewhere that reading poems is like eating chocolates, and it's possible to overdo. There are so many great projects going on right now, and I have an inbox full of poems, and I already consume quite a bit of poetry at normal times. Poetry friends, I wish I had the time and energy to read all the amazing things you're doing.
On Sunday it will be my day to add to the Progressive Poem, so of course I have been following that closely. Today's line is here.
I've also been doing daily posts, mostly linking to great poems from my archives, but occasionally sharing a new find.
Here's a poem I received in my inbox before National Poetry Month even started. I loved the creepiness of this poem, and I was intrigued by the syllabus format:
what’s called close reading
of the ground.
(You can read the rest at the link above.)
I decided to imitate this (not the creepiness, but the format), and below is a first draft of my poem.
Syllabus for Eighth Grade
Throughout this course,
we’ll explore the art of being thirteen
going on fourteen.
We’ll practice sitting on a chair
without falling on the floor,
posting in the class group chat
without hurting anyone’s feelings,
having a crush on a ninth grader
without losing your dignity.
In our year together,
we’ll entertain a range of emotions,
with frustration being a frequent visitor.
We’ll experience rejection,
some days, all before lunch.
There are tissues on the teacher’s desk.
Bathroom humor will be tolerated
on a limited basis.
The teacher will try not to roll her eyes at you
if you try not to roll yours at her.
We’ll read what many others have written
about being alive,
and we’ll write what we think and feel,
or at least some of it.
Some of it we’ll bury on the playground
when nobody’s looking.
Evaluations will be gentle,
since nobody has ever mastered the art of being thirteen
going on fourteen.
Or any other age, really.
We’re all just figuring it out as we go along.
Ready? Let’s begin.
Today's roundup is here today, at Tabatha's blog, The Opposite of Indifference.