I wrote this poem for my Creative Writing students. They put together a coffeehouse for our class tomorrow, and they asked me to perform in it. What they don’t know is I wrote them a poem to say thank you… Oh, and “The Island of Misfits” is what they decided to call their coffeehouse. Gosh I love these kids, I’m going to miss them terribly.
A Sestina for The Island of Misfits, December 2012
From Ms. B, with gratitude
Summer haze melted into Winter nights,
and, somehow, time too has passed.
Questions were asked,
words were said,
and hearts were shared
in the safety of poetry.
Some didn’t anticipate writing poetry,
and others didn’t anticipate writing late into the night.
Thoughts danced on paper before they were shared.
Moments of marveling and wonder passed,
and the struggle was said.
Eventually, the tough questions were asked.
What was asked?
“How do you perform poetry?”
“Can you write that abab thing? What was it you said?”
“You go to open mics? At night?”
“Would it be okay if I just passed?”
“Do I have to share?”
Alas, you did share.
Each and every one of you opened your mouths, asked
for permission to let words pass
through your lips in the form of poetry,
to let your words leap into the night.
Then you all embraced what was said.
I’ll always hold dear what you shared and said–
stories of superheroes and sidekicks were shared,
along with tales of love, life, loss, and dark nights.
Intuitive questions were asked,
and you all slowly realized that you were writing poetry
as the days and weeks eventually passed.
You know what else passed?
Your hearts onto paper, with what was said.
Your fears came to life, and lived within your timidly-read-aloud poetry.
I commend you for all that you said, all that you wrote and shared.
Your talents soared far beyond what I could have asked.
It is your poetry that put a smile on my face on seemingly endless nights.
So, for this, I thank you for what was shared,
going beyond what was asked,
and giving me hope as you all turned into poets, your words exploding into the night.