Opening My Virtual Pocket

Stephen King said something along these lines: the act of encountering a well-placed simile has the same effect on a reader as meeting an old friend. I submit that encountering a good poem is similar, even if we have never heard it before. This year, I rediscovered a poet, whom I had unfortunately forgotten until a student used this poem (found on a random poem hunt) for his entry in our class poetry slam last week. And even though Rilke isn't actually an old personal acquaintance of mine--I've only read a few of his works--I have been writing and thinking about reflection and memory in the recent past, and I found this poem fitting.

"Fire's Reflection" by Rainer Maria Rilke (trans. A. Poulin)

Perhaps it's no more than the fire's reflection
on some piece of gleaming furniture
that the child remembers so much later
like a revelation.

And if in his later life, one day
wounds him like so many others,
it's because he mistook some risk
or other for a promise.

Let's not forget the music, either,
that soon had hauled him
toward absence complicated
by an overflowing heart....


Be sure to share with me your poem, either electronically or in person

A Poem or Something

Now that it is National Poetry Month, I should probably write a poem or something. But my first item is business is to remind you that this coming Thursday, April 30, 2015, we will be celebrating Poem in Your Pocket Day. If you aren't sure what that entails, check THIS LINK or THIS ONE or even THIS ONE.

Now the story about this new poem. Yesterday, during our class poetry slam in 5th period, I spouted the phrase "I don't throw points around like confetti" in response to a student comment regarding how few points I assign projects in relation to another teacher. I stopped, and a rather astute student saw my hesitation and quickly quipped, "Mr. Anson, you better write that down. That was some good word choice."

She was right, so I wrote it down. During 6th period I scratched out some notes. During 7th I wrote a rough draft. Today during passing periods I touched it up a little. I'm not completely satisfied, but I have been persuaded by those who have read it to share it as it is. Just know that it is still a rough draft.

“To the Student Asking If He Can Improve His Grade Two Days After Report Cards Have Been Mailed Home”

No,

you can’t

have extra

credit to supplant

the work

you never pretended

to care about

until judgment day

came

and sentence was

passed.

The fruits of your

incubated inattentiveness

and insistent procrastination

have matured,

and it’s time to harvest.

A crossword puzzle?

to replace

the argumentative essay

we spent four

weeks constructing in class,

you ask?

Are you serious?

Or do you struggle

in math, too?

I don’t toss

around points like

confetti;

class is not a party—

show up to be entertained;

it’s not Oprah—

you’re not going home

with an A,

or even a B,

just because you woke up

long enough for roll call.

No ice cream,

no presents,

no participation trophy

grades are awarded

for simply showing up

and depleting

the oxygen supply of my classroom;

no cake,

no microscopic cookie crumbs

fall to anyone

but the red hens who know

that life

will not be served

on a silver platter, or even a plastic tray

from the dollar store,

and who are willing

to scratch

and sow

and sweat

and tend

and reap

and create a future for

themselves.