I teach a semester poetry class to high school students in my spare time. Actually, I let them discover poetry. We get out of the classroom, out of our box and look at things in a different way. One thing I try stress is poetry is everywhere–from the church service to the alley where homeless huddle around a burning barrel. Heck, you can even find poetry in poetry ( or prose)–
I took this title (waiting to come out of the haiku closet) ——feng shui is when she walks out talking the dog
and the last pack of cigarettes
from a poem recently and transformed it into a haiku: (somewhat of a recycled poem–a green haiku for the crafty green poet in us all–
feng shui is when she
slams the door taking the last
pack of cigarettes.
More often than not the class turns into a therapy session, but the kids make a connection with a bit of life and each other. The majority of these kids need or have to write. They need a vehicle to get it out–someway to keep their balance. At the end of the semester and a long the way, I learn more than I want to know and so do they.