"Spill Words Onto the Page"

We are so fortunate to have Mr. Richard Newsham with us for the next five Fridays to help us understand the beauty of poetry. Today he introduced us to the beginning steps of how to write poetry. He did a great job reassuring us all that we all have a voice to share with others. Today, our first session, included reading some great poems and writing one with his assistance.

and some amzing examples;

Angelina G
I Am a Stone

I am a stone
I started out in a big land
Like a mountain
Filled with other stones
Just like me

I drifted away to another land
To a beach
I was abandon
Alone
By myself
But then that person came
And picked me up
I thought he was going to throw me into the water (luckily he didn’t)

But to my surprise I was put in a moving vehicle
It drove away
We ended up in a house
He put me in a flower plant
Along with some other stones
He made a circle out of us
A circle of stones that surrounded the beautiful rose
That was yet to grow up and die

I am a stone
A stone that can never be changed
Never be caught
Never be judged
I run with the waves of fait

Maybe I will fall
And maybe I will rise
Maybe I will live
Or maybe I will die

I am a stone
A stone that can’t be tampered with
I am rough
Yet quiet
I am smooth
Yet shallow

Maybe there will be times
Times that I cannot explain
But isn’t that the purpose of life?
Isn’t that why we are here?

I guess you can say
That I have been waiting
Waiting for that right moment
When I get picked up
And thrown into the sky
I guess you can say that I have traveled
For many, many years

Years filled with memories
Hope
Destiny
And Life

Maybe I don’t want to be a stone
Maybe I just want to wait until I rise up in the air
And flop
Right
Into
The ocean

Today

Delete

Julia F
The Stone
My stone isn’t anything special.
It is kind of like an egg,
But not exactly.
It’s partially smooth on one side,
But on the other it has a rough edge,
As if grains of sand were rubbed all over it.
If I touch it,
It makes my hands feel dirty.
It doesn’t feel wanted
It’s a dull color,
Dull shape,
Nothing anybody would want.
It has a weird smell,
Almost like a beach and rainforest,
All wrapped up into one.
I spin it,
And it focuses on one part,
As if that is where its heart is.
When it stops,
The spot disappears,
As if there was that one moment of happiness,
Where this one stone is able to express its feelings.
But when the spinning stops,
His life is over again.
He’s done.
It’s unwanted.
If you stepped on it at the beach,
You wouldn’t even bother to look down.
You would just keep walking.
This stone came from a beach,
Yet it wish it hadn’t.
It was washed up into the Ocean,
Then landed on the rainforest.
No one will keep this stone,
No matter where he ends up.
It wants to be with someone,
He wants someone that loves him.
He’s just silent.
He doesn’t feel anything anymore.
Its holding a secret, that no one can recover.
He won’t tell anyone.
When I knock it on the table,
It has a lot inside.
It’s solid, but not hollow.
It definitely has a feeling,
As if there is that one memory inside that he wants to yell out,
But can’t.
This stone is too afraid.
I feel like this stone isn’t ordinary,
It’s special.
I care for this stone.
I know what it can feel like,
To feel unwanted.
I know you just go on with life.
No one is always wanted,
Nor the way it wants to be.
But this stone is itself.
Not what other people want it to be.
You may think you know who someone is,
Or who they are,
But you don’t.
In their body,
Their story is different.
This stone is different than what other people think.
He may be unwanted,
And he may not like it,
But this stone will just keep being a stone,
And that’s just the way life is.

Today