All I wanted to do was dress my wound in
This poem was compiled from lines and passages of senior student blogs by Jen Moyers. To read more about student blogging and why it's powerful, check out this post featuring Jen's reflection on the teaching page of this site.
A Found Poem
from the 2012-2013 English 12 Dual Enrollment Class
Here's the story of my life.
(If you don't like feeling uncomfortable under any circumstance,
please do not listen to this record.)
Summer was at its end.
Senior year officially started tomorrow
and innocence would begin to deteriorate,
which in turn would allow all things
to take hold of a young mind such as mine.
Because as a child,
you don't know what life is about;
you enjoy every day as a new day.
If I could lie in the sun until school started again,
I wouldn’t move an inch.
I want to let the homework just pile up around me,
and blow away with the sweet scented wind.
Sometimes, I like to just sit.
Seriously. It's too much fun.
June 9th, where you at!?
I am ready to grow up and live on my own,
but I also want to be a kid forever!
"I didn't know this site had EMOTICONS!" ...great.
The sky was the perfect light pink
with the oranges mixed in.
The air was crisp,
but not cold.
My life content
but not yet finished.
All is great in the world
for the fact that school is still in session.
But no biggie.
I can do this.
This is easy--or it was.
No one expected high school to be quite like this.
I can do this. We can do this.
In a sense, senior year
is like trying to drive cross country
on one tank of gas. In theory,
it is no longer than any other year,
but it seems to be a never ending cycle of work.
Everyone keeps telling me to
and enjoy my last year of highschool,
but I really just can't.
We were growing up.
So here's to another happy ending
to another beautiful princess.
Ain't that a load of bull.
Please excuse me.
I must return to everything I have to do.
Many of us struggled through the spring
as SOME teachers
simply did not understand
the concept of
no offense Mrs. Moyers
They make me bored.
They make me sleepy.
They make me fidget.
They make my head hurt.
But then again, I wouldn't go to their lessons anyways.
If you warned us of this moment that we are living through,
you know we do not have time
to sit down and take
hours upon hours
to do homework.
THAT is what makes me Mad!
This is just one more reason
to be ready for the end of the school year!
So here’s to you uncooperative people . . .
I felt as if a burden had been lifted off of my shoulders.
I immediately began to procrastinate some more.
Please find something to be legitimately offended by.
Try not being so ignorant for once and that might go a long way.
It takes a lot of work to stay OUT of things.
A lot more than it takes to get into them.
Some people must be born with out curiosity
If pain were to be a being,
it would creep in the farthest crevices of our minds,
and only appear when we least expect it.
I can't though. That's just not me.
I have those days more often than people realize.
You know why?
Because I hide it.
People don’t need to see the real me,
need to know everything about me.
It’s just the way it is . . .
Today, there are so many kids
who are convinced that
No one truly knows me.
You could be standing right next to me, and I’ll tell you I’m alone.
You won’t understand until you’re there.
So don’t try to help me.
Don’t pretend you understand.
Don’t try to be sympathetic:
that’s not what I’m looking for.
You’re just one in seven billion.
And I’ll be fine without you.
You couldn't tell if you looked at me.
The pain isn't on the outside.
And I hide it.
Man, can I hide it.
Nobody would ever know if I didn't tell them.
Why does it matter?
I don't want or need people's pity or to hear
"Oh, let me do that for you."
To me, those are fighting words.
I'm scared of looking back when I'm seventy
and being filled with nothing but regret.
I'm scared of looking
with a list of wishes for things I could have done...
Or should have done...
What do I do...
...between now and then?
I grow weary of always having to explain why I'm a generally happy person.
I grow weary travelling the path of success when people try to knock me down.
But I keep trucking on.
I ask my parents why
and all they say is
“I don’t know, that’s just the way it is”...
and all I’m thinking is “blah blah blah whatever.”
Pathetic. Inspiring. Enough.
*As my dog pushes through the door into my room.*
Enough is enough.
Something needs to give.
All I wanted to do was dress my wound in
sparkles and cartoons.
Yes they hurt.
Yes we all hate them,
but mistakes are the best
things for us.
With every issue comes a solution.
Just stop crying, and clean up your milk.
If you need any help, simply look up at the stars.
When you see stars do you see light, or do you see life?
We look down at a worksheet on atoms and feel enormous,
then look up at the night sky and feel insignificant.
The rules are simple: live and die.
I love to dance,
and watch the way
rain always finds its way
down to the Earth.
It’s kind of funny isn’t it?
How everyone else notices when we change,
but we don’t.
Sometimes it’s a sudden snap that crashes what we know,
While other times it’s a
There are so many
things I wish I didn’t do, say, or think
but I know I wouldn’t be as far as I am
today if not.
We should take comfort in knowing that we,
can change the world without any prior approval!
I couldn't do it.
I didn't get it.
It didn't click.
Then, one day,
it just happened.
Out of the blue.
What an incredible thought...
Such a simple concept is overlooked by so many people.
One of the most commonly used cliches is "everybody makes mistakes."
It's true: we're only human.
That I understand.
Everyone has their own path in life
and mine will always be so much different.
So I keep wondering what others see in me.
What do you see me as?
I never realized how much talent I actually have.
Every time anybody would ask me what my talent was
I would be like
I don’t know, I don’t have one.
I am SUPER excited about how it turned out,
but who knows.
I love what I can do.
My parents have taught me so much
and all I want is for them
to be proud of me
and to show them that I care about all of their hard work
and sacrifices for me and my siblings.
I understand right from wrong,
at least most of the time, anyway.
I have respect for people.
[I know that] you must choose to give up a chance
at winning the prize at the finish
in order to gain selflessness.
[That you should] be yourself and so many great things will happen to you.
I am seriously so excited that I can hardly contain myself.
Each and every day was special to me,
and each new one cleans the slate for something good to happen.
I don't know what to fill it with, what image to create.
The characters weren't who I expected them to be.
No one really learned a life lesson.
We just kept pushing forward with naive gusto and faith,
hoping the ones around us would do likewise.
Broadway proved that in a strong community,
no one walks
Sure, my generation has its flaws,
but we are ambitious.
We are overly sentimental;
we are truth seekers;
we are brothers;
we are sisters;
we are lovers.
[We] are thinkers.
[We] are dreamers.
[We] are human.
I suppose this is the end of an era.
Interesting how something so
has the power to make things
I didn’t believe that
really happened like that,
but they do.
Hope is a funny thing.
People say to live life by the second because you can’t ever be stuck in the past,
only looking towards the future.
What I have found important to realize is that each day
adds to the piles of numbers
that make up our life;
even with the uncountable numbers that perpetually increase,
we only have one life.
I understand time is non-refundable.
So let’s reminisce a bit, we deserve it.
Pictures and videos can solidify the fact that I was there,
but only in my mind can I relive every step,
and every second with my friends.
Never forget who your true friends are,
for they will be the ones to count on
when things get wild down the road.
There are many people that have become a necessity in my life:
those who I look forward to seeing every day in class,
those who I know I can count on,
those who have shaped me.
I savor the class,
I will the hands of the clock to slow down, to pause,
I will truly miss it,
and no matter how much I complain about it,
it is my family.
Our English class was together
for nearly eight months
and it was simply another class,
with other people with whom we didn't share a particularly strong connection.
For us, that bond came when
presented something about their lives,
something that very few other people knew.
Did any one else feel that connection strengthen?
All of a sudden,
we knew each other on a different level from the rest of the world.
For us, it was a deeper understanding that brought us together.
They say that the end is what truly sticks.
For me, the end of this class is what will stick with me
Each piece was a part of myself.
It transformed our building into a refuge.
A safe haven.
Now, our minds are on a whole different world.
What we don’t know for certain allows us to
dream. Dreaming is hope.
Sure we may wake up, but we always fall back to sleep
and dream again.
And I better get rich.
The hope is worth more.
As graduation approaches, I am ready for it!
Now, I yearn for the independence.
I crave it,
dream of it.
I know I can do this.
I am the seed you planted
I will grow into a beautiful fruit
Because of you and for you
I'll teach about a world of opportunities:
how beautiful life can be.
I'll teach about being worth it and making things count.
[Y]ou must keep reading, traveling deeper into the maze,
getting more lost with every turn,
only to find out there is no point,
There is an ending.
An abrupt ending, no closure, no final solution:
BE PROUD, BE VERY PROUD.
(This happens every single time.)
It’s a big week for our creative writing class. We submitted our literary magazine to the printing press; check out the cover image to the left. Additionally, our class blog is being featured on Comments4Kids.com this Friday, May 10th. #Comments4Kids, organized by William Chamberlain (@wmchamberlain), is an awesome site that features class sites and blogs from all over the world, encouraging authentic blogging with real, engaged audiences.
As I write this post, my creative writing students are ooohing and ahhing over the blog posts they are discovering on Comments4Kids.com. They’re reading posts from second graders, from fourth graders, from middle school students. They’re reading posts from the States, from England, from New Zealand. They’re sharing in collective amazement and camaraderie.
This is what creative writing class is like: take your worst day, one full of black clouds (both literal and figurative) and watch it transform into sunshine and rainbows (again, today that is literal as well as figurative).
Most often, I’d be saying that kind of statement with the drippings of sarcasm, but on a day like today, I couldn’t be more genuine. On days like today, that class does nothing short of save me from despair.
That’s what it’s like to walk into our class… Everyone is doing what they love, supporting each other, and creating new worlds with words. The collective hum of creativity bounces off of the walls as we write and type our way into new understandings of ourselves and each other.
Today, the students read and commented on blog posts they found on Comments4Kids.com. This is what they shared about what they’d read:
One student who practices karate and has a black belt was thrilled to read about a younger child who just got her yellow belt. Another student was touched by a little boy’s account of the fear he felt about his first day at school.
A third student was touched by a young environmentalist who wrote about the horrible way that people were treating the earth and all of the things that students could do to help. The students were amazed by the range of content and by reading about the lives of students all over the world.
At the end of class today, a student talked about all of us all doing something together and I said, “We’re not a cult.”
One of the students said, “Are you sure?”
Before I could respond, two other students answered, their voices in perfect synchronization as they said, “It seems like it to me.” Everyone standing around laughed.
I laughed, too. There are much worse things in the world. If only I’m always so lucky to be surrounded by such inspiring, brilliant people, I will count myself one of the most fortunate people in the world.
Check out our work on BroadwayAurorealis.weebly.com—there are links to each student’s individual blog posts as well as featured posts on the class blog.
We’re also selling literary magazines for $8 (including postage); if you’d like a copy, email me on the contact page or email our class and I can get your address to send you one. The awesome cover image above hints at what an amazing product the students have put together this year.
"that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we're all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we'll ever have..."
© K. Ashley Dickson and Teaching the Apocalypse 2019. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without written permission from this blog’s author is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to K. Ashley Dickson and Teaching the Apocalypse with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. All thoughts and ideas are the author's and do not represent any employer.