My Source of Creative Comfort by Deb Day

Poetry.

It draws fear into the hearts of many. But for me, poetry has always been a source of creative comfort. From sappy love poems to angry missives, I loved the way the right words, the right phrases could share so many thoughts and feelings.

My favorite form for writing poetry is free verse because, quite frankly, I don’t like most poetry that rhymes. I think it takes a master to write poetry with distinct rhythm and rhyme and that I am not.  Free verse allows me to choose strong words that share my thoughts. Free verse also allows me to write the lines of poetry exactly how I think them. Putting a single word or a short phrase on its own line emphasizes an idea and lets my reader know I think it’s important.

I don’t always sit down to write poetry or have an idea for a poem. Many times, I sit down to write and that’s just how the words come out of my fingers. Ideas for poetry come from many places--students, grandkids, Chloe. The trigger for a poem could be a giggle, a thought expressed or a line of conversation. This is how my favorite poem came to be.

I love listening to how kids learn language. They use unique expressions to get their point across. They mix up letters in words--baseghetti, anyone?  Or they say things like, "Can I flush the toaster?" (Really. Think about it.)

So conversations with my grandkids are always delightful. My poem (below) When I Grow Little came about from this conversation:


Me: So Tony, how is preschool? Are you having fun?
Tony:  Yep. I learned "Going on a Bear Hunt."

I recited the first line and asked if that was the right one.  He assured me it was and proceeded to recite the whole thing (with actions, of course).

"I like that, Tony!  Will you teach it to me?"

"Well, Gramma, when you grow little, maybe you will learn it at school."

When I Grow Little

When I grow little
I will sing with passion
Even if
I don't sing very well.

I will draw lots and lots
of pictures
And not care
that no one
Knows what I drew.

When I grow little
I will skip down the sidewalk, and
Wear my favorite clothes
(Even if they don't match).

I won't care what I look like
in a bathing suit.
I will take naps when I need them
(With my favorite toy).

When I grow little
I'll eat cold hotdogs for breakfast and
Warm cookies and milk for lunch.
I'll lick the frosting off my cupcake.

I'll make someone else kill the bugs and
take  fish off the hook
(Even if they don't like them either).

I will say
"I love you"
a million times a day
(Just to make sure
they know I mean it)
And I will always start my day with
Morning Hugs
When I grow little.

A More Heightened Sense of Noticing by Joann Snook

I believe that the study of poetry makes me a more heightened “noticer.” One of the reasons that I look forward to National Poetry Month and celebrate it with my students is because I believe that it enhances our way of seeing – of noticing – our surroundings. 

I am not sure why or how this happens, just that it does happen…like a magic trick that I can perform but not explain.

When driving to school, the sun through the clouds is a poem. The stump outside my classroom is more than something to trip over; it is a lonely vestige worthy of description.

During Poetry Month I see “better” and try to get my students to do the same. Their work indicates that at least some of them do.

Has anyone else experienced this effect – the “April effect”? Any ideas why or how it happens?



Joann Snook has taught high school English for forty years and currently teaches A.P. Literature. You can connect with Joann on Twitter at @Joann Snook.

Becoming a Poetry Person by Tori Bachman

I have a confession: I’m not really a poetry person.

Or at least I haven’t been for the first 40-some years of my life. Poetry intimidated me. The time I spent studying it in high school and college felt stodgy, stifled, snobbish. I couldn’t relate to much of what I’d read, so I stopped trying to “get it.”

Just over a year ago, however, with anxiety levels increasing and attention span decreasing, my colleague—who really IS a poetry person—casually mentioned (right after I explained why I’d switched from coffee to chamomile tea), “You know, I have a feeling you’d like Mary Oliver.” Poetry newb here responded, “Hmm, she sounds nice. Could you introduce us sometime?” My dear colleague didn’t laugh. Instead, she laid on my desk two collections of the most beautiful writing I’ve ever encountered. And she was right: I do like Mary Oliver. A lot.

Now I am becoming a poetry person. I have spent hours in the library stacks and piles of money in used bookstores. I ask people, “Who’s your favorite poet?” and I make lists in my journal. I signed up for the Poem of the Day, and my cousin sends me poems in the mail. I devour them like ice cream on a summer day, I savor them like smooth, dark chocolate…and my body has started to actually crave poems like it craves chamomile tea.

I’m not sure I have discovered as much about poetry in these few months as I have discovered about myself – but that’s the point of poetry, isn’t it?

Here’s what I’ve learned (so far):

First, reading poems slows me down and forces me to pay attention. I see the world differently, notice the way raindrops plink against the mailbox and shimmer from bare tree branches. Poetry expands my vocabulary and descriptions of everyday things; instead of curly hair, for instance, my head is covered in voluptuous ringlets. I think in similes, too; my son’s hand in mine is like an anchor, for example.

Second, there’s always time for poetry. Poems are short, for the most part, so even on days consumed by a mile-long to-do list, I can read a poem and quiet my mind. Twelve minutes until the pasta water boils? Perfect time to read a poem or two by Ada Limón. Sitting in the orthodontist’s waiting for the kid’s braces to be adjusted? Pretty much anything by Billy Collins comes in handy. How about that the half-hour spent waiting for an oil change? I whole-heartedly recommend Ross Gay’s Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude. (And, one of the most amazing things about living here in the future is we have access to hundreds of poems at all times right on our smartphones. Even better, if you’re like me and don’t really know yet what poetry you like so you don’t trust yourself to hunt for poems, look here, here, and here first.)

Finally, I notice that my writing changes when I’m in a “poetry place.” I don’t write poetry, mind you, but when I read poetry, the prose I write becomes tighter, leaner, edgier. Poetry focuses my mind on that all-important one-inch picture frame, and it forces me to read the spaces, the words unwritten, the nuances. Good prose does, too.

I’m becoming a poetry person, and you can, too, because here’s the best thing I’ve discovered: Poets write for all of us. There is something for every taste and every interest, something you will read that squeezes your heart or makes you sigh or sing or laugh. It’s not intimidating anymore because most of all, poetry is like wine — it’s okay to like what you like.


Tori Bachman is a literacy editor based in Portland, Maine – which means she’s also a writer, knitter, and jewelry maker in the winter and a hiker, beachcomber, and kayaker in the summer. You can find her on Twitter at @ToriBachman and read some of her random musings at tallgirlsadventures.blogspot.com.

When Context Is Absent, Imagination Abounds by Brett Vogelsinger

Writing poetry from a picture is certainly not a new idea, but sometimes a picture with zero context can take us to fresh and surprising places as writers.

I find that The New York Times Learning Network’s collection of Picture Prompts has helped my students to craft poems about situations and topics that pull from our personal experiences, but go beyond as well.  The images are carefully curated so that they will be high-interest for teens, but since they come from current events, they expand our focus and pull in images that may be foreign to my students’ experiences in suburban Pennsylvania.

Alternately, when our library is discarding old non-fiction books and magazines, or I am purging piles of outdated copies of The New Yorker, abundant paper prompts that can be taped into our writer’s notebooks become available.

This year, I used a Picture Prompt post from September to encourage my student writers to slip into someone else’s skin and see the world through different eyes.  Here is the picture:

Image from The New York Times 

First, I invited students to sketch for three minutes, then asked what they noticed.  Here is my sketch:

It is intriguing to talk about what we did not notice until we sketch the picture, and those details may make the best material for writing.

I wrote with my classes, and of course the best part about teaching a writing workshop is having the opportunity to try the activity five different times across the course of my five classes for the day.

First period, I imagined the feet standing apart belonged to a new student.

Later in the day, I imagined that the apparent ostracism was the result of a long-held grudge.

After we all had a chance to draft, I invite the class to collectively be my conference partner, offering some praise and some push to make my work better.  Then they apply that technique to each other’s work in peer-to-peer conferences.

For this activity, it is important to withhold the original context, but if you end up using The New York Times Learning Network’s resources, they do link out to the original article context. This can be informative or sometimes hilariously surprising to consult after interpreting the image in a poetry writing workshop.



Brett Vogelsinger is an English teacher at Holicong Middle School in Bucks County, PA.  He is accessible on Twitter @theVogelman and blogs (with others) annually about ideas for Poem of the Day at http://30gopoems.blogspot.com/ . Students from his school publish their work at http://sevenateninemagazine.blogspot.com/ .

Every Poem Has a Story Behind It by Tynea Lewis

Every poem has a story behind it.

I hate analyzing poetry. I don’t want to guess what the author was trying to say. I want to know for sure. I want to know what inspired the poet to write those specific words. I want to know the person he thought about when he penned it, the pain she was trying to escape, or the location of the beautiful scenery that was captured.

I’m a journaler by nature. I’ve written or typed out an account of my life since high school. When rereading past entries, it’s the smallest details that mean the most because they’re usually the ones that get lost first as the memory fades.

As I’ve written poetry, I’ve tried to capture the moment surrounding the poem. The person I thought about while writing it, the pain I was trying to escape, or the location of the beautiful scenery.

When my memory of that exact moment fades and becomes hazy, I want to know what drove me to capture those words. That’s why I write the story behind the poem. It’s not long. Maybe a paragraph or so. Just enough to capture the backstory. Just enough for me to remember why I needed to share those words from my heart.

No one will ever have to analyze my poems. The meaning will be straightforward, and it’s yet another way to freeze time (just liking journaling).

Give it a try. Write a snippet about what has inspired you each time you write a poem.



Tynea Lewis is a former Title I teacher from Pennsylvania. She was named a 30 Under 30 honoree by the International Literacy Association in 2016 for her work with LitPick Student Book Reviews, an online reading and writing program. When she’s not busy overseeing the program or working for Family Friend Poems, she loves to spend time with her husband and young daughters, write for a variety of audiences, and escape to the quietness of the mountains. You can connect with her on Twitter and Instagram at @TyneaLewis or on her blog at tynealewis.com.

Writing Poetry to Help Readers by Lois Letchford

I began writing poetry in response to teaching a student struggling with reading. Working with isolated letters and sounds was going nowhere, frustrating both my student and myself. In utter desperation, I took to writing simple poetry, finding context to isolated words. Simple poems grew bigger and more complicated as learning went from impossible to “this is so exciting!”

As a literacy specialist, I write to meet the needs of my students. Poems are often written around a particular sound, so my students are unknowingly engaged in many integrated aspects of literacy.

When writing poetry, I start with a specific sound in mind. I find all the words I know with that sound. This is when my mind starts “playing with ideas, words, and sounds.” I brainstorm, and I ruminate. Lots of words are crossed out, and eventually—sometimes even with the assistance of students—I have a poem which can further require illustrations, create discussion, and, above all, is easily repeated by my students.

The Chimp and the Cheetah
A chimp and a cheetah met one day,
A long way away, and far away.
The chimp from a branch, high in a tree,
Said to the cheetah, “Just watch me.
I am a champ at beating my chest,
I am a champ at making a nest.”
The cheetah on the ground looked up and said,
“Chap in the tree, you can’t catch me!
Beat on your chest, make your nest.
I am as fast as fast can be.”
Chimp in the tree and cheetah on the ground,
Chatting to each other would never be found!



Lois Letchford is an educator, author, and speaker. Her non-traditional background, multi-continental exposure, and passion for helping failing students have equipped her with a unique skill set and perspective. Her first book Reversed: A Memoir is now available on Amazon. Connect on Twitter @LetchfordLois and at www.LoisLetchford.com.

Poetry is a Sign of Hope by Jen Greene

Poetry is a divisive genre.  Some people hate it, others love it. Kids (and adults) moan and groan at the thought of reading or writing poetry.  To get a read on the room, I always start my poetry unit by asking my second graders to complete the sentence, “Poetry is…”  This year, one student answered, “a sign of hope.”  I was astounded by the insight of a kid who is seven years old. It made me think. 

Poetry is indeed a sign of hope.  It is an underestimated form of expression. 

When you write a poem you make the rules.  You decide grammar and stanzas and punctuation. 

Your choices express who you are and how you feel.  That individual expression is needed, maybe now more than ever. With all of the marches and movements sweeping the nation, one idea that rings true is that of voice.  Poetry can be that vehicle that allows you to use your voice to stand up for what you believe. And poetry can be a way to tell children, women, and anyone who feels marginalized that your voice matters. 

If you are a teacher who dreads writing poetry with your students, try this simple task: Ask your students what matters to them.  Maybe your students have thoughts about gun control or who to ask to prom.  Maybe what matters is where their next meal is coming from or how to avoid that bully on the bus.  Maybe they’re worried about struggling to read as well as their friends or how to convince their parents to stop yelling at each other.  Big or small, the thoughts that consume the minds of students matter. Sharing their voice through poetry will help students view their poems as a sign of hope.  A sign that they are not alone. Their voice matters.


Jen Greene is an elementary school teacher in the West Chester Area School District in West Chester, PA.  She is a fellow with the PA Writing and Literature Project (PAWLP) and a doctoral student at Widener University.  You can find her on Twitter @GreeneMachine82.