I've been making my seniors write, write, write. And since April is National Poetry Month, four of their remaining assignments are poems.
I know they love me. As a "mentor text" (fancy teacher word for "example"), I chose one of their assignments and wrote one of my own in class today. [It's really kind of terrifying to hook your computer up to the big screen and churn out an idea while the kids are watching/not watching/praying it's all over soon so they can graduate.] It's based off off of a poem found in the New Yorker and comes from THIS prompt. You should write one, too. Scribble it down on a piece of paper next to you. Tell a story about something you will one day love about yourself. Mine happens to be wrinkles. :) Someday I’ll Love Becky My momma gave me eye cream when I was 14. Said to slather it on my skin. Said it would prevent the wrinkles setting in. So I did. I slathered in on. For fifteen years, it nourished my skin. But the wrinkles still came. A frown line between my eyebrows, and wrinkles that stretched from my eyes – sort of like small spider legs stretching. Stretching. Stretching out. And then came the parenthesis around my lips. Like an added epitaph on a one-day tombstone. (This girl laughed.) (She laughed.) (Laughed.) And then I had a little boy and suddenly, the wrinkles and the eye cream didn’t matter. Suddenly, oh, so suddenly, the wrinkles were more like a story. A story that he was a part of. A story that he practically created. When I think about the thing that I’ll maybe one day love, I think it must be the wrinkles. Because how could you hate -- how could you really hate anything (and I do mean anything) that was created by living so well? xoxo, B. |
. About Moi .I love, love, love flannel sheets and I am really passionate about lists on post it notes and most of the time I'm sad that no one else is as excited as I am about Diet Mountain Dew. I also adore run-on sentences. And if you need an awesome virtual assistant, who is full of personality and really good jokes? Email me. I'm your girl. This website uses marketing and tracking technologies. Opting out of this will opt you out of all cookies, except for those needed to run the website. Note that some products may not work as well without tracking cookies. Opt Out of Cookies |
He saw her before he saw
anything else in the room. - F. Scott Fitzgerald |
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