Would that I could share so much more student poetry! (Some students are understandbly reluctant to share; others have accidentally deleted good work.)
Below is a poem composed by a Year 11 student I teach, Melissa, written for the school magazine.
It's all Melissa's writing, albeit with some encouragement and feedback. As a writer/poet, I find it much easier to have writing conversations with students, to offer solutions and alternatives, or simply point to what works and why. Most of all, our focus throughout is on the writing, not grades: how do we grow as writers?
Perhaps the biggest change in this poem is unseen: Melissa initially gave me a completely different poem, one that was more abstract and used a "VCE vocabulary" (if I can call it that). We discussed that poem, poetry as storytelling, imagery. I shared mentor texts, offered suggestions... And then Melissa felt inspired to try something completely different: "I wrote this one with much more happiness than I did with the previous one."
After another writing conversation, the final product:
[ The Blissful Side ]
- by Melissa W, Year 11
He’d rather not tidy the room.
Shiny black computer
Red headphones and mike,
Webcam clasped on top.
To enter virtual reality,
And fill his heart with glee.
Heaving a sigh,
Tip-toed
One,
Cautious step,
At a time
Through laundry-littered
Minefield
Rays of light fighting to enter
Dusty cobwebbed room,
Never greeting the sun since
Two springs ago.
Mini Ferraris, black and red
Collecting dust on shelf,
Murmuring gossip to dirty gold trophies.
Brown eyes locked on red toy engine,
Bought long ago on a cold autumn day.
Little boy, no more than ten,
Hungered for the red toy engine,
Shiny, new, displayed in glass window,
Five dollars in pocket,
Enough only for a meat pie and Coke,
But dear little boy,
Tempted, tempted, tempted,
Thought of a little idea,
Slung guitar off his back,
Strummed a nameless tune,
Little boy sang
Catchy lyrics, bright little face,
Parents at work,
Brother at college,
Sister with friends.
Cold little fingers,
Choir boy’s angel voice,
Crowd gathered,
One red note,
Furious thanks from
Cold little fingers.
Rushed in to buy
Red toy engine,
For Teddy, he was convinced,
For Teddy, but two dollars short!
Shopkeeper smiled,
Red toy engine was his!
Cold autumn day,
He remembered it well,
Was two dollars short,
Now he worked, now he paid
Bills, meals, games.
Red toy engine
Blissful memory of childhood,
He’d tidy the room now
For more memories.