If I Were King -

A few weeks ago I posted about the very cool experience of writing with the residents of Huger Mercy Living Center nearly 10 years ago. I had so much fun over my two years with these beautiful people that I wanted to take the project into a school environment. I spoke with a high school drama teacher, and she put me in touch with a middle school language arts teacher.

So, I found myself carrying an even larger bag of supplies into Montecito Community School. For two years, I hung out with the 6^th graders. My first day in Ms. Bond’s room, I passed a table of five boys who were, in a word, spirited. I was assured they would be kept under control. No way… I wanted to play at their table!

The kids and I wrote on paper bags, paper plates, and construction paper. We played Exquisite Corpse. We wrote together and we wrote apart. She shared, and we withheld. I learned so much from them – and even though it’s ridiculously cliché – I know I took more away from that experience than they did.

After our first free writing exercise, I told the kids to wad up their colored paper and shoot it into the trashcan. I told them, “the only writing you waste is the writing you don’t do today.” – which you know, sounds pretty good. Funny how I forget about that all the time.

These 6^th graders wanted to be reckless and fearless, and once they trusted me, they opened the barn door. We had 8 English Language Learners in this class. They wrote in Spanish and their classmates translated. My favorite table of havoc wreakers was the most prolific group in the class.

I think of them often. What trust looked like in their eyes. The weight of their faith. And their stolen irreverent laughter. And one - one stayed with me long after I left.

If I Were King

If I were king I would rule the whole wide world.

If I were a god I would control everything. If I could fly,

I would meet the stars. If I could have one wish,

I would wish for a star to own.

If I could, I would soar into the future.

If I were an angel I would watch over my family.

If I were a different person,

I would so love your puzzles.

-- Isaac

When I Was Alone

When I was lost (under neath my belt)

my stomach was a stone.

Sinking…

was the way

I felt.

And hollow

And alone.

-- Josephine

Survive

There’s no way I’ll fail the test today. There’s no way

I’m going to quit. There’s no way I’m stopping.

There’s no way I’m going to die. There’s no way I’ll

forget. There’s

no way I’ll ever go dark.

There’s no

way I’ll die. I’m going to survive.

There’s no way I’ll be a loser.

I will always be a leader.

There’s no way they will win. There’s no way I’ll

be forgotten. There’s no way

I’m going to stop writing.

There’s no way I’ll ever ever quit.

I will live.

-- Anonymous.

Blank Verse

Nine years ago I visited a rest home for patients living with Alzheimer's Disease in Stages III and IV. There are very few care facilities available to this population in the Phoenix area. I approached the activities director, and asked if I could come in once a week and lead them in creative writing. Lorraine sat down. I wanted to gather several members together in one of the cottage living rooms for a group writing session. Lorraine was surprised that I just showed up out of the blue. I had my reasons.

We talked about creative writing and how that might come together in an environment where inhibitions are low and free association and lyrical speech are readily accessible to them. She agreed and I came back the next week with pictures and prompts and an easel. Over the next several months, I asked questions and wrote down their reflections. We had a wonderful time.

Every now and again, I’m going to put up one of their poems for you all to enjoy. These writings were not compiled within the framework of any kind of poetic structure. I called them poetry because when I read the first one back to them, Nancy shouted, “A poem!” A poem indeed.

This is one of the earlier pieces. The line breaks are where thoughts ended or another individual started to speak. Fifteen residents participated in this session.

Others More Recent

Redwoods in Northern California the size of a dinning room

Reflections

Creations of God

Snow on mountain tops

Hiking for flowers during spring

It’s really good – that part of it

You can just look at it—

And that makes it almost…

Nebraska—Lincoln—the capitol where my father was born.

Eight of us picking pears along the Northern Coast

Old cactus country—Douglas, Arizona

Climbing trees all the time - when I wasn’t falling down that is (sly smile)

Swinging on ropes ascending too high, more than mama wanted.

I looked all around that place—

My most favorite thing was climbing those mountains.

Off to the woods…where we got into a lot of trouble was what we got (laugh)

My cousins and our gang, my brother and sister, and me—oh boy!

Then there was the time my father took me to see Harry Truman give a speech…now that was somethin’…

Places I’ve gone and mountains I’ve climbed, some long ago, others more recent.