Poets and you don't even know its. . .

TORDA'S FALL 2021 TEACHING

Poets and you don't even know its. . .

3/5/2020

It's the week before Spring Break. It's midterms. Let's be kind to ourselves and the universe. Let's write poetry together. For, this week, please post an original poem. There are no other rules.

There will be other weeks we can talk about how we could teach poetry (the week we come back from Break we are reading The Poet X) as readers, but one way we help our students to read poetry is to write poetry, is to give students the right to be poets.

It's a brave act to write knowing people will read your work and so lessons where we ask our students to share their work in a safe setting is one way we help them to be brave thinkers, readers, and writers. One way we make safe spaces is to be brave and vulnerable with our students as well. When we write with our students we show them our process and we show them the all writers and readers have some sort of process. And, in that way, we help them to figure out reading writing processes of their own.

71 Comments

Maddie Butkus

3/6/2020 10:23:55 am

March is Women's History Month so in honor of that I wrote this haiku!

Ambitious and strong
Women all around the world
We stand together

Natasha Cardin

3/8/2020 05:28:21 am

Hey Maddie! I have always found writing haiku's so difficult so I automatically appreciate your poem. Then writing in honor of International Women's history month just makes it even better, especially with the death of ta woman icon Rosie the Riveter this week ! I think you picked the perfect way to describe women. I hope that women continue to come together and work on building each other up in the future! Great job this week!

Hannah Brodeur

3/8/2020 08:55:09 am

Hi Maddie! I love this haiku! I think it does a great job capturing women empowerment in such a small amount of words. I love the aspect that there is a sense of unity in it. "We all stand together" is a very powerful line. Great job! I really enjoyed reading it.

3/23/2020 06:09:54 pm

I hear that sister. It can be hard to remember, but I always want to be a woman who supports other woman. Always happy to have the reminder.

Lauren Melchionda

3/6/2020 05:44:57 pm

My poem is based on the Spring season coming up!

Along the seashore on an early spring day
The air still, yet peaceful with sky's of gray
The only other sound's the break
Of distant waves and birds awake.

Savannah Resendes

3/8/2020 07:58:39 am

Hi Lauren!
I really enjoyed reading your simplistic poem. Spring is one of my favorite time of the year because that means that warmers weather is coming. You poem just brought me a sense of calmness and relief knowing that spring is around the corner. In Massachusetts we are lucky enough to be along the seashore and experience the sounds and feelings that you describe in your and I really enjoyed it.
Great Work!

Olivia Leonard

3/8/2020 09:20:05 am

I love this Lauren! It made me happy. Beautiful job!

Olivia Sweeney

3/22/2020 11:17:36 am

Hi Lauren!

I love this poem you wrote! Spring is definitely a unique season and it is almost as if nature comes back to life following winter. Love this!

3/23/2020 06:11:25 pm

Took a trip to horseneck yesterday to walk with plenty of distance between my social and everyone else's. I'm always happiest at the shore, watching the pipers plove and all that.

Ethan Child

3/7/2020 07:09:17 am

"The Cemetery Circus" by Ethan Child

Waiting in a line of cars
mothers and fathers worry about finding their way to this spot
but none of us know where we are going.
We gather in the wind and snow
and wait in the noisiest silence
amongst faces we have never seen.
Snow lies on everything
so the ground is way too bright
and white
And in the middle of it all is one brown face
“That must be his son”

And then she arrives
with silent broken tears streaming down her face
masked by sunglasses and a gigantic hat.
There’s nothing to say to her
but we’ll wait with her anyway.

We shuffle to the stone
where bearded men who no one knows are hovering.
They explain to us what is happening
and we all nod and hum
pretending to understand or care but really we’re just waiting.
Men shake hands
and then they lower you.
These strangers start hurling dirt and rocks
on the box that is now your home
and they land and bang in unpleasant rhythms.
Everyone wants to “respect his wishes”
but what about her with the giant hat?
You know.
There’s no worse place to wait than a cemetery circus.
I don’t know what solace is
but there is no answer here.
And then we scurry or flutter away in the wind and snow like insects.

Nicole Costa

3/7/2020 06:32:04 pm

Hi Ethan,
Your poem was so captivating! I love it! Mainly, I enjoy how you turned the focus of the burial to the grieving woman in the giant hat. These details really provided an intimate experience of how death affects the living loved ones. Your poem reminded me of Fragos's The Sadness of Clothes that we read this week. The vivid language of your poem allows the reader to step out of the car, onto the snowy cemetery, and witness the emotion of the burial.
Awesome poem!

3/23/2020 06:13:53 pm

This line: There’s nothing to say to her/
but we’ll wait with her anyway.

That's what it is to bear witness. Nicely done.

Jessica Rinker

3/7/2020 01:16:31 pm

For[e]g[r]et by Jessica Rinker

Dad forgets things sometimes.

Since the stroke, Mom reminds him
“Babe, don’t forget you have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow.”
“I’m working late tonight. Don’t forget to eat dinner.”
“Don’t forget to take your medicine. It’s that time.”

She doesn’t have to remind him
Of their anniversary
Of her favorite chocolate
Of their goodnight kiss
He remembers those things.

Ever since, I remind him
“Yeah Dad, I drink coffee now, for a few years actually.”
“No, next spring I student teach.”
“I was the one who told you that joke.”

I don’t have to remind him
If I’m visiting today
If I’m happy with my life
If we did our goodbye hug
He remembers those things.

Ever since I moved out, I ask Dad
“Dad, can I call you back tomorrow?”
“Could Mom help you with that?”
“Do you mind if I finish this up first?”

Ever since, Mom reminds me
“Honey, your father misses you.”
“You get that from him.”
“He’s doing his best. He always has.”

I forget things sometimes.

Lauren Melchionda

3/7/2020 03:27:06 pm

HI Jess!
I loved your poem! It really hit home and I felt as though I could relate to this poem as well. I feel as though we have so much going on in our lives, we forget about so many important people and things around us. I really enjoyed the lines that you wrote that said "You get that from him. He's doing his best. He always has." because that really reminded me of my dad, who is such a hard worker and also how everyone thinks that him and I are alike. Thank you for sharing such a great poem!

Hannah Brodeur

3/8/2020 08:53:21 am

Hi Jess! I love the imagery you have in your poem. I was able to really picture these individuals and what is occurring in this family. I also loved how you were able to create such a distinct tone throughout the poem. For instance, through the different word choice I could feel the emotion of what was occurring. Lastly, I loved how it all came full circle at the end of your piece. It creates such a connection between the speaker and the father. I also really liked the conversation aspect of it, it made it seem real and authentic.

3/23/2020 06:16:17 pm

Aw Jess. This:

Ever since, Mom reminds me
“Honey, your father misses you.”
“You get that from him.”
“He’s doing his best. He always has.”

I forget things sometimes

It's heartbreaking. Don't be so hard on yourself. I feel certain in saying your Dad wants you to live your life even if he can't know always that you are living it.

Jess Replying to Maddie

3/7/2020 01:22:21 pm

Maddie, I love that you used a haiku. Haiku's might look small, but they are powerful (like women themselves!). Because you began with the adjectives, my brain was immediately drawn to read the rest, because I wanted to know who was ambitious and strong. The use of "we" also caught my eye; it really emphasized the theme of unity!

Jess Replying to Ethan

3/7/2020 01:35:11 pm

Ethan, reading your poem felt like I was looking at snapshots from a cemetary, where. all the images were connected to the same narrative, but the details were just disconnected enough so that the bigger picture was blurred. It's like the speaker of your poem is juggling the known and unknown, with assumptions from the line of dialogue, the images that seem to not belong (like the white snow and the big hat). It's eerie and mesmerizing. If you haven't already submitted this to be published in the Bridge, you should definitely consider it!

Jess. Replying to Lauren

3/7/2020 01:38:56 pm

Lauren, my favorite part about your poem was the rhythm. They way you rhymed it. and the cadence of each line reminded me of the. sound waves make (which is so profound considering that was one of your images.) Also, I am reading all of these poems while there is snow on the ground, so I really appreciate the little window into spring!

Savannah Resendes

3/7/2020 01:57:15 pm

"Cold Water" by Savannah Resendes

Cold Water.

Are you in need of that refreshing dip,
On a hot summer day in the middle of July?
Where the sweat is oozing down your back from the humidity,
And all you want is that cool oasis in a pool that will satisfy you
As you embrace the water with open arms as you dive in headfirst.

Or

Are you already cold enough?
Shivering from your head to your toes,
Your breath forming a cloud around you as the air is too much for you .
Frost bitten fingers, shaking in the frigid wind as you thrash avoiding the dip,
Anxiously awaiting for the terrifying plunge.

Life is like that bath of cold water waiting for you to dip your toes in,
Will you embrace it?
Will you avoid it?
What will you choose?

Shauna Ridley

3/8/2020 07:43:31 am

Hi Savannah!
Your poem is awesome in presenting two perspectives. I feel like it is distiguishing two types of people. The ones who see the glass half full and the ones who see the glass half empty. I always look at the situation as life is what you make of it. Sure there are things you can't control but it is how you choose to react that makes your glass full or empty. You exemplify this decision in your poem which really helped me to relate to your words. Great job thanks for sharing!

3/23/2020 06:17:47 pm

I think somedays (lately) I feel cold enough. But many times I feel like diving right in. No matter what.

Gabby Sleeper

3/7/2020 02:36:22 pm

"My Front Porch" by Gabby Sleeper

On my front porch, there sits a rocking chair
It's blue and it's speckled with little flowers
When I was little, he used to sit there
He liked to be outside, to see the neighbors and talk for hours

On my front porch, there's a footrest
It matches the chair, blue and white
When I was little, I liked sitting there the best
Because I knew that's where he always was, out in the sunlight

On my front porch, there sits a rocking chair
It's old and worn and falling apart, almost
Now, I don't think anyone really likes to sit out there
Except the cats and squirrels, and maybe a ghost

Shaun Ramsay

3/8/2020 10:23:02 am

Hi Gabby,
I really appreciate the image you paint in this poem. What should be a welcoming porch "with little flowers" and matching chair and footrest becomes a place of memory and ghosts. The last stanza with the mention of "his" rocking chair now falling apart and "a ghost" turns this welcoming setting into an undisturbed memorial to the person no longer there. Very impactful, thank you for sharing

Jailyn Tavares

3/8/2020 12:15:42 pm

Hi Gabby!

I really loved your poem. I love how you are embracing a past memory you had with someone who has passed away. Unfortunately, life comes and goes, but what is so special is that we have wonderful memories to hold onto. His physical presence may not be there but his spirit fills the emptiness of the chair. I had my own image of the porch with the rocking chair and foot rest. You did a wonderful job of capturing this memory in a beautiful and simple way.

3/23/2020 06:18:49 pm

This is charming and full of so much love.

Jailyn Tavares

3/7/2020 05:21:40 pm

When we were kids

When we were kids
We wanted to be grown
Our parents told us “no you don’t”
I see why and wish I had known

When we were kids
We wanted to do whatever we want
Our parents told us “no”
I see why and I wish I had known

When we were kids
We wanted no one to tell us what to do
Our parents told us “one day you’ll still wish we did”
I see why and I wish I had known

When we were kids
We wanted to be just like mom and dad
Our parents told us “don’t rush the hands of time”
I see why and I wish I had know

Then one day...

When we were grown
We wanted to be kids
Our parents told us, “I told you so”
I see why and I wish I had known

Savannah Resendes

3/8/2020 08:02:52 am

Hi Jailyn!
Your poem made me stop for a moment after reading it and realize how true it actually is. When we are younger, were so naive to the responsibilities of adulthood and hardships to come, but we still wanted to be older. I remember the "I can't wait til I can drive" or "I can't wait till high school is over". Looking back, I wish I could go back in time and experience the simple and innocent life that childhood is, just one more time. Your poem is great, thank you for sharing!

3/23/2020 07:11:06 pm

I so appreciate the tone of this piece. The mild regret. The deep nostalgia.

Justin Carpender

3/7/2020 05:29:33 pm

To My Past Self

If I could rewind time and grab hold of my past self,
If I could reach out and grab who I used to be
Back when I didn’t know the struggles my family had.
If I could go back in time, I would tell my younger self this:

Enjoy the clear skin under your eyes while you still can;
countless sleepless nights will ruin that for the rest of your life.
Don’t worry about school so much;
at the end of the day does it really matter what you got on a test?
Stop thinking about the future
Stop thinking about who you want to become
Stop thinking about me
Stop….

Ignoring the moments around you and letting time trample your presence.

Looking back at my younger self I feel the need to reach out and protect him from the harm that will come.

Don’t talk to that boy; what a waste of two years that’s going to be.
Stop hating your body and existing in your skin; you’ll have plenty of time to do that when you’re older.
Stop imagining a world when you’re older while I’m stuck here imagining the joys of being a kid again.

I’ve seen that in any great story, the hero has to suffer.
They have to face trial after trial in order to grow and develop as a character.
Forget physical challenges, the hardest hurdles to jump are the emotional ones.
The ones where the world is coming after you and you feel so alone and you can’t seem to do anything right and I can’t quite….

Would their character be complete if:
Winston ignored his urges for Julia and continued his daily work in the Ministry of Truth?
If Milkman did not go south to experience pain and discover who he was?
If Hester didn’t wear that Scarlett A with pride rather than wear it with humiliation?
If Humbert didn’t lose his darling Lolita?
If Esther Greenwood didn’t nearly suffocate in her own bell jar?
If Conrad quickly moved on after the death of his brother?
If Holden Caulfield didn’t see the graffiti on the innocent elementary school walls?

If I could go back in time and warn my younger self about things to come,
To go back and let him know how to avoid the pain that I had to endure.
If I could go back and ensure this innocent soul would not be tainted by the world
If I could go back….

I wouldn’t say a damn thing.

I don’t want to risk fucking up the person I was destined to become.

Gabby Sleeper

3/8/2020 06:21:28 am

Hi Justin,
I really enjoyed your poem! The line “Stop thinking about me” gave me chills. Also, great use of swear words. I remember in one of my English classes, the teacher told us that swearing shows that we have a limited vocabulary and are unable to find a proper word to express ourselves with. However, I think swears most definitely have a time and place. In your poem, for example, they really slapped me in the face and told me to listen. The swearing emphasizes the importance of your point and brings a power to those last couple lines that I really don’t think “proper” words would have the same effect. So, awesome job!

3/23/2020 07:14:49 pm

Bravo Justin. A tour de force.

This line:
Looking back at my younger self I feel the need to reach out and protect him from the harm that will come.

I cringe sometimes thinking about the person I was at various ages. Also I love the literary "what if" --though I would have Humbert Humbert keep his lecherous hands off of 13 year old Lolita.

Maddie response to Jess

3/7/2020 05:58:03 pm

Hey Jess! I truly loved reading your poem for it serves as a great reminder for not only yourself but also for everybody reading. Sometimes we forget the little things about life but they can definitely start to add up. It is so important for all of us to get reminders like this to spend time with family and do what we can for them while they are still here with us. This was a great reminder for myself so I thank you for that! Great work!

Maddie response to Jailyn

3/7/2020 06:06:19 pm

Hey Jailyn! I thought your poem was amazing for everything you said throughout I found to be so true. I wish I had known how awesome it was to be a kid and truly appreciated it more. I for sure miss nap times in school. Additionally, I believe that it is so important for us to not try to rush life and just try to live in the moment. Each day contains new memories to make and we should really try to enjoy them for they will not last forever. Oh what I wouldn't give to be a kid again! Thank you for this poem!

3/23/2020 07:16:51 pm

Except. I just gotta say it: I hated being a kid. I love being an adult. It could be that I've got the greatest job you could ask for as an adult. Or that I just feel lucky about how everything turned out. But I was like a sad and sort of melancholy kid and I felt stymied by every adult around me. I love being in charge of my life!

Nicole Costa

3/7/2020 07:07:12 pm

Inferior Thinking

The field is beautiful and bare,
blooming with life.
Thoughts run free
through the green scenery.
Until the monster arrives
and spreads her disease,
polluting everything in sight
with rotten ideas.
She burns the grass
until it is charcoal black,
attacking the rebellious spaces
with gut-wrenching sensations.
A poison so deadly
it kills all innovation,
infecting the place
where intellect resides.

The tumors are incurable
So,
the brain pulls the trigger.
Releasing the ammunition of the loaded gun.
s l o w l y,
residue clouds the landscape
making it impossible to see an escape
A silent echo of all the soldiers fills the air
DEFEAT

Justin Carpender

3/7/2020 08:22:57 pm

Hey Nicole!

I really enjoyed your poem about inferior thinking. This is an issue that really hits home for me. I could be having a pretty good day and then out of nowhere I am, hit with feelings and reminders of my own shortcomings and inadequacy. The present moment seems to slow down, and any feelings of enjoyment vanish and I am left feeling hollow. Your poem does a really nice job capturing that feeling of emptiness that arrvies when these thoughts show up.

Did you choose to personify the inferior thoughts as a women because you are? I only ask because in high school I wrote a sonnet where I discussed death, and I made death a women. My teacher questioned why I did that, and it really stopped me and made me reflect. I mainly did it because of the Angel of Death from American Horror Story Asylum, but there really was no other way. The poem did not feel the same though if I made death a man. I feel the same way about your poem, the inferior thoughts don't seem like they would be as impactful if they were personified to be a man. Maybe it would feel to external, losing the personal touch on these thoughts, or maybe it's something else. I am not sure, what do you think?

Great poem though, but now I have to sort out some of these thoughts!

-Justin Carpender

Nicole Costa

3/8/2020 08:46:28 am

Hi Justin,
Thank you! It's funny that you ask why I personify the thoughts as a woman because when I originally wrote the poem I had wrote "spreads his disease" and "he burns." When I edited it, I thought it felt impersonal that the monster would be a male because, ultimately, the real monster is myself thinking. This poem is very much a personal poem about how overthinking/doubting myself physically affects my body.
Great observations!

3/23/2020 07:20:00 pm

As an aside, you know I live for these tiny moments of authentic electronic connections between classmates. Live. For. Them.

3/23/2020 07:18:32 pm

This feels like a poem about imposter syndrome. A feeling I know well. The last stanza is an intense read/feeling.

Natasha Cardin

3/8/2020 05:20:59 am

Messes are piling up everywhere-
There’s laundry to fold, dishes to wash, lunches to pack.
It is a list too long to see the end.
The day is spent surrounded by little furniture-
Reading books that were not meant for adults.
There is little time left for myself.
All my movement studied by four pairs of eyes-
Every word overheard by tiny ears.
But every time I say “I love you”
And it is returned with, “I love you more”-
Everything else fades away.

Molly Drain

3/8/2020 07:24:18 am

Natasha,
I loved your poem! I can't tell if it's from a parenting perspective or from a teaching perspective, but it was so sweet. The shift in your poem from the craziness to it all fading away was done so nicely. I think their is value behind hearing someone say " I love you", but when it comes from a child it seems to hold a little bit more of importance in our hearts. Thank you for sharing this poem with us!

3/23/2020 07:22:39 pm

A teaching perspective! I had not thought of that. But I can see it--at least the top 3/4s (I kid. I kid. Mostly. I kid. No one tells you they love you when you teach grown ups).

3/23/2020 07:21:17 pm

I want to send this to my sister who is trying to work from home and home school and is a bit at her wits end. She loves her boys, but these days are long and hard. I think she'd really identify with what you write here--all of it.

Becky

3/8/2020 06:50:09 am

A Very Bad Love Poem About a Stupid Kid from a College English Class

I wish I was made out of metal
so maybe you would want to listen to me too
I wish that every time you rub my hands they would turn into fire starters
and that way the spark would stay alive
I wish that I could paint the way you play guitar
when I hear you play I feel colors
Colors I can't mix on a canvas
Strokes on strings I don't know how to translate

I wish I was your cigarette
So you could cradle a flame around me
Light me with each breath
Turn me to ash
just so I can be held in between your fingers
Dangled out the window
Not ready to be thrown away
Would you like the sound I made if you put me out in water?

I wish I’d never found your keys you lost under my bed
They used to feel like a ghost that lived there
An apparition, intangible
It felt more romantic in my head
I wish I was your found keys
Hanging by your front door
Sometimes you feel like a missing set of keys
Still

I wish that crack you got fixed in your windshield was still around
I used to trace it with my eyes
the piece of glass you had to get replaced
The same one you told me not to get sentimental about
I get it you needed a new windshield
I have convinced myself that whatever this is
It’s just another thing on your to do list
That I am just another thing to get done

But when it’s 3 am and I scribble drunk words about cigarettes and hands
Wrapped in smoke
The ghosts of memories we made too fast
please haunt me again

3/23/2020 07:24:53 pm

Becky you have a gift for being both funny and a heartbreaker all in one spot. The stanza about keys is my favorite.

Becky

3/8/2020 06:55:58 am

Hi Natasha,
I love this poem I think until you have kids you'll probably never know what it's like to love somebody the way your parents love you. And I'm not gonna speak for that feeling because I don't have kids but the poem gives me just a glimpse of the love you have for yours. I love your line about tiny ears and furniture and books not meant for adults - it describes those things more carefully and creates that sense of emotion in your piece. Really great job. Have a good spring break!

Shauna Ridley

3/8/2020 07:37:22 am

Time

5:00pm
The front seat is mine.
Johnny Cash strums away as dad passes
His hand around for us to sing into
As the Ring of Fire beckons us to remember
The words but we can’t
So we freestyle until we hit the chorus hard with the
Words Johnny had carefully crafted for us to sing

6:00pm
The aroma of
Chicken rice and broccoli,
warms the soul as we play mario kart hoping it won't be ready
Until we’ve had enough of throwing red shells at each other.
Well. It is. BUT desert is on the horizon before our plates are clean
The timer is on for me and Sarah
We eat before it runs out
Because if it wasn’t there we’d be with the cats,
Laughing or doing anything besides eating dinner.
So we finish and move onto a giant bowl
Of strawberry ice cream that Dad let us have
Because we beat the timer.
PROUD

8:00pm
Bedtime
“Left. Left. Left right left”
Our bedtime ritual that dad made up
Taking us longer than expected to get to bed
Because we were laughing till our stomachs hurt
And making sure formation wasn’t broken.
We stop at Sarah’s quarters and wait for her kiss goodnight

The march continues to my quarters where dad tucks me in
And his beard grazes my cheek as he
Kisses me goodnight and he walks out
Leaving the hall light on so that
No hairy purple monsters would get me tonight.

9:30pm
My hazy eyes open,
for just a minute.
I hear the tv downstairs turn off,
The wood stove door creaks open as dad feeds it,
Footsteps climb the stairs and I know
Dad is going to bed.

24 hours a day
Feeling loved

3/23/2020 07:26:53 pm

This, like you, is one of the kindest things I've come in contact with. The last stanza is my favorite.

Molly Drain

3/8/2020 07:40:08 am

He may be furry,
His butt may wiggle,
His tail may jiggle,
But you don’t have to worry.

He likes to eat,
He likes to run,
Most of all he likes to have fun,
He’s the dog you’d want to meet.

He may be old,
But don’t let that fool you,
He’s still a man’s best friend.

3/23/2020 07:28:43 pm

As you know, I have cats that rule my life and not dogs. But don't tell my cats this but I'm actually a dog person and the high light of my day yesterday was petting two giant all black great danes at the beach. Dogs are just perfect.

Hannah Brodeur

3/8/2020 08:49:58 am

The Negligence of Mindfulness

Cars whizzing
Lights flashing
The busy atmosphere
Nonstop
Everyone continues to talk on their cellphones
Discussing the next thing to the next to the next
Searching for something more
Ignoring everything around them
The enormous breathtaking buildings filled with corporations
Eating up everyone’s time and attention
The stunning parks filled with exquisite monuments
The peaceful and calming vibes gazing at the unforgettable greenery
This is where life needs to be lived
In the moment…

3/23/2020 07:30:01 pm

Well, this is a poem of this moment where everything and everyone has been forced to stop.

Colby Nilsen

3/8/2020 09:14:28 am

There is beauty in her mortality
collapsing into a
vague morality.

A haze of nothing blinds the truth and binds us all.

We are all a tooth in the mouth of harmful hedonists
In the stomach of greed,
In the body of power.

If only we controlled the brain,
For without the teeth they would not be able to eat.

3/23/2020 07:30:34 pm

Power to the people, comrade.

Olivia Leonard

3/8/2020 09:29:50 am

Spring forward,
A brand new start.
Budding flower beds are eager to bloom
And the birds stay chirping long past noon.
The sunlight stays a little longer
Sweet and warm on my face.
It is time to spring forward,
I am ready for this new start.

Caroline Keenan

3/11/2020 07:33:57 am

Caroline Keenan

3/11/2020 07:45:51 am

Hi Olivia!

I really enjoyed reading your poem. In honor of daylight savings and spring time coming it was great to see you write about spring because it was very relatable to everyone. You did an excellent job incorporating great imagery and all the aspects of spring time that I love such as the flowers starting to bloom and the sun staying out a little longer. Not only are you ready for the new start but I'm ready for the new start to!

3/23/2020 07:32:22 pm

Typically I hate spring forward. I resent that lost hour--on a sunday--in the middle of the semester. But being on sabbatical significantly reduces the stress of spring forward and the extra sunlight is very, very welcome.

Shaun Ramsay

3/8/2020 10:14:03 am

Home is happiness
Shelter from bitter cold days.
Don’t let the cold in.

3/23/2020 07:33:52 pm

I don't suppose "cold" stood for "Covid" when you posted, but it could, couldn't it.

Caroline Keenan

3/9/2020 08:39:46 am

Life has simple secrets to share
This golden fluff ball feels it in the air
She’s always so happy when she sees me
I know she will always have her loyalty

3/23/2020 07:35:01 pm

See my above outpouring of affection for dogs.

Samantha Colon

3/10/2020 07:45:24 pm

Social Media

Plug in the brain
And go insane
Because the mind is wireless and communication is detained
We,
Open our apps and close our minds
So far from reality we’re psychologically blind
From,
The number of followers
The number of friends
The latest fights
And number one trends
We don’t see the truth
Only see the lies
We would rather tap some button
Than open our eyes
We used to see eye to eye
Now it’s iPhone to iPhone
We need a contact on a screen to prove we’re not alone
If you took away their phones they’d have nothing to do
Control technology, before it controls you.

3/23/2020 07:36:45 pm

Your structure is really thoughtful and precise. I think it raises the level in this piece.

Samantha Colon

3/10/2020 07:53:15 pm

Hi Maddie,

I completely love your poem and love how you captured and acknowledged us females. I have always had troubled doing haikus and I give you props for choosing this for your discussion board. I think the simplicity of the words you chose capture the memorability of what this month is meant to me for us. Good Job!

Olivia Sweeney

3/22/2020 11:15:08 am

Since 2020 has started, it has been a crazy year for me and I lost one of my closest friends.On top of that, with this pandemic occurring in all of our lives, I wrote this haiku as a reminder that everything will be okay.

Life can be crazy,
Take a deep breath and relax
You are very strong.

Megan Shaughnessy

3/23/2020 02:56:08 pm

First I am so sorry for your loss.I dp love how real and vulnuerable you are. I feel like this is perfect for where we are right now and the words we need during a time like this. This is a poem we all need to read right now, thanks for the positivity.

3/23/2020 07:37:42 pm

Olivia. It is a crazy, difficult complicated time. And you are dealing with this on top of this terrible loss. I send you support and peace--I know all of us do. You *are* very strong.

Megan Shaughnessy

3/23/2020 02:51:39 pm

It's days like these where I find myself getting massive
headaches. All I do is think, rethink, and think about
it again from another perspective, to the point where
I can’t keep my head up. Days where I think
about the what ifs, questioning if I should even be a
teacher. My head sunken into the couch cushion, watching
the water droplets slowly drip down the living room
window. Wondering how my life would be if I was alone.
Where I live alone, eat alone, and function alone.
Always having a fear of my boyfriend wanting someone
else, sleeping with someone while I’m at work, so
then it's like why bother with a relationship. I get lost
in thoughts of my parents getting in a fatal accident. I
envision standing in the rain, seeing their limbs rest on
the pavement, blood covering my hands, and nothing I
can do. It's days like these where I sometimes think I
would be better off alone. Not having to worry about
disappointing anyone, but myself. Hurting the ones I care
for the most, failing to hold myself to their standard. Not
having to worry about disappointing my mom, having done
something wrong in her eyes. Failing to be the best daughter
I can be. Her face looking at me in disgust, pondering on
who I even am. I think about what it would be like to not walk
closest to the main road or feeling the need to keep others safe,
or go on hikes when I want to go swim in the ocean, putting
others happiness before my own. It's days like these where
I
think
too
far
ahead.

3/23/2020 07:40:34 pm

Oh Megan. I think you capture the anxiety and panic that I see in so many of my students. It breaks my heart watching all of you carry on these burdens of responsibility and work (so. much. work) and fear. I want my students to know to reach out and let us help with the burden. Most of us want to help you. We never want to read another email about a BSU student no longer with us if there is anything we can do to prevent it. Be kind to yourself. All of you. Be kind to each other.

Poets and you don't even know its. . .

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