A Poet Who Didn't Know It

I am currently forcing my students to write poetry to submit to our school's literary magazine. (I am the advisor, so I have a vested interest.)

So for several days now, we have had lessons in class about good poetry, types of poetry, literary techniques, etc. Their poems are due tomorrow, and I'm sure they will be entertaining. (Perhaps some blog posts will need to follow?)

Anyway, I felt like a bit of a hypocrite forcing them to write poems when I myself never write poetry (it intimidates me)...so I sat down and wrote a few poems last week to use as models for my students. I was surprised how fun it was for me to tinker with words! I think I would like to start writing more poetry.

Here is my "confession poem" about the first time I fell victim to peer pressure (a cute boy in kindergarten):

Heart thumping

hands shaking

eyes darting

from her imposing, intimidating desk to

his daring, darling eyes,

I grabbed the bottle of sticky Elmer's glue, and

with a few white stripes

on the back of my laminated placemat, I

secured his love--and her wrath--

in a moment of twitterpated stupidity.

Minutes passing

glue drying

teacher crossing

from her cushioned, comfy desk chair

to our miniature, messy table by the door,

She tidied up and straightened up our clutter, but

after a few quick tugs

on the edge of my shiny placemat, she

realized it was stuck--as was I--

due to a moment of deviant criminality.

Heart thumping

hands shaking

eyes darting

from her omniscient, ominous gaze to

a dainty, dusty speck on the floor

I awaited the wrath of the kindergarten God, and

with a few brisk strokes

on the blackboard at the front of the room, she

emblazoned my name--and my cheeks--

in a moment of heartless authority.