One sunny day in November (and weren’t they all this year?) I betook myself to O’Keefe Middle School to help one of the teachers there teach a habit I can’t seem to break myself—the making of poetry.  And because I believe the soul of poetry is inspiration and “making it new,” every soul needs a body to move it about the earth, so I taught the kids how to discover a metaphor.

I had them close their eyes and envision a person each of them likes a lot—though not necessary romantically.  Like college-age students, on whom I try this exercise all the time,  they squirmed and did a little eye-rolling.  As expected, when I asked them to open their peepers and write down the first thing that came to mind in response to a series of increasingly weird “prompts,” they were properly bored and a little reluctant.  “What if your person were a piece of fruit?” I queried and braced myself.  Nervous titters, but then some scritching of pencils.  “What if your friend awoke one morning and discovered that she or he had sprouted a tail?”  I pursued them to describe that tail.   And each one found at least one genuine metaphor—a glowing, unexpected, made- me- want- to- cry- or- just- clicked- like- a- well-made- box metaphor.   Some were already so accomplished that they whole poem hung together—though I told them neither that, nor rhyme, nor rhythm was something to force.   The results are below.  I loved every single one of these and feel honored to have helped birth them.    

- Gay Davidson-Zielske

 

“ME” by Annie  Benford   

 

Sometimes a mountain—strong and sturdy

And happiest when rain falls and she has no umbrella.

She’s a soft, warm sweater, new but

Never losing her touch.

She is an apple, the same old fruit but

Always a different taste.

If she were a metal object, she’d be

A locket, enclosed and safe, but able to open

So you see the faces you like best.

If she awoke and found she’d grown a tail,

It would be a jaguar tail, black and sleek,

For prowling the jungle and finding great

Discoveries.

 

The following lines represent some of the finest images taken from poems by several  students:

 

“MOM” by Anna

 

…she can cuddle you up like a small

 cabin with a fire on a

cold winter day.  Sweeter

than a strawberry.  A dream

to cure cancer and AIDS…

She would ride on her bike

For days to accomplish it.

 

“DANI”  by Emilia

 

Dani is like an ocean, always changing

With its horrible hidden rocks and tidal

Waves, and its beautiful colored fish

And its singing whales,  giggling dolphins.

 

“SHE’S”  by Alex Z.

 

She’s like an ocean—ever—vast

And forever.  She’s like a

Kiwi, sweet and nice.

Old-fashioned, but always happy.

No one in the world can compare

To her.  She’s the great shield,

The teacher, the mother bird.

 

“METAPHOR” by Amy

 

…a summer sundress.

Light and free…the

Flower would be a daisy,

Simple, but just perfect.

 

“ME” by Kazo Vang

 

Me can be a bird sometimes—chirping all day,

But knowing when to stop when her wind kicks in.

 

“BEANIE” by Mehla Goodrich

 

Mangoes were his bright yellow cheeks

Beanie was a bright blue, sunfilled, spring day.

 

“MOM” by Lewis O.

 

She is purple clouds glowing

On the shallow sunset…

In her dreams she rides a PT Cruiser

With her brief case, which is full of $$$’s of

Thousands of $100 bills…

 

“DAD” by Alex E.

 

We’re in a race;

Instead of running it,

He walks and collects plants

Along the way.  He’s kind of like

An ORV, but he has respect for the land.

He’s never inside when he could be out,

Could never be coaxed into a cubicle job.

He teaches about plants, and birds,

To whoever will listen.

I’d laugh if he said, “I love the TV.”

A house to him is like a cage.

He’s an outdoor guy.

 

(I helped Claire arrange her poem into two haiku-like poems)

 

‘BROTHER” by Claire

 

He’s a sweet, (sometimes sour)

Orange that squirts

Little pains into your eye.

 

A snow-covered

Mountain, just waiting

For a sound

To make it crumble.

 

“UNTITLED” by Billy Mcloy

 

…a juggler with a lemon bitter face

waits for Halloween…and world history to drop.

…thinking of his friend who says, “I ain’t ever happy,”

but always with a smile on his face.

 

“METAPHOR POEM” by Jessica

(I helped Jessica distill this gem also—Gay)

 

Wild and free,

You love to take risks,

You are like a lion,

My little brother.

 

“Don’t Laugh!” by Jordan Herman

 

…he can also be a bulb-

shying away from spring,

unless you give him proper care and

he could turn into a lovely daffodil.

 

“POEM” by Jo-Jo

 

Some days she is like a reinforced steel door,

Hard to open without the code.

 

“MY GRANDMA”  by Harrison Holtzman-Knott

 

…fun as mid-day…always bringing sunny conversations…

soft wool as a sweater, but can be reasonably scratchy.

My grandma is a classic car, steadily moving through life.

Black as night or white as the moon….if she were a color

Of the rainbow, it would be red, like the color of her curly hair.

 

“UNTITLED” by Caleb Crossley

 

…he is a sponge who sucks up all the knowledge that comes his way…

…he seems out of control sometimes, but most times he rides

smoothly and in control…he would never be…a burger flipper.

 

“MYSELF” by Isaac May

 

I’m a Friday afternoon—ready to go…

I would be a lizard—quiet, quick,

And stealthy, always ready to go.

I am a Ferrari, fast and sporty.

 

“ME” by Lloyd Cosme

 

I am a shallow ocean …

I am quick, like J-J the Jet Plane

And …slick and intelligent.

 

“ODE TO A FRIEND”  by ?

 

….if you discover a machine that does homework,

let her know….

 

“BRYCE” by Bryce

 

He is like a mountain,

Singing in the breeze.

He is a night person, the night man.

 

“UNTITLED” by Brittney

 

…in the sunny time, we ride horses.

We both wake up and have horse tails.

She is a mean Ompah Lumpah…dreams of owning horses.

 

“UNTITLED” by Georgia

 

My brother is a little knoll,

A peach,

The sunrise on the brink of understanding.

His mostly sunny attitude,

Brings everyone around him joy.

He is a pair of shoes,

That want to build a robot.

And just by him saying, “Guess what?”

You’d think that he was 12.

 

“POEM-FREE VERSE”  by Leah J.

 

…a fire-engine red sports car

wishing to drive wild.

…she’s much stronger than me

letting everything happen natural.

She’s a dreamer, with a cottonhead.

 

“ODE TO DAD” by Vinnie

 

He likes the color orange

Bright and determined.  He’s

A pair of old jeans, tough and strong.

 

“ALEX ZIELSKE” by Josh

 

Once you surpass him in anything

You look down and notice how far

You have gotten.  Like a rainstorm,

He can change in the blink of an eye.

Such great knowledge and talent,

It would be a shame if he worked

At McDonald’s.

 

“SPECIAL FRIEND” by Arielle

 

…the smell of this island would be

coconuts and wildflowers…

Would you like to know who

My island is?  Maybe next time…

 

“UNTITLED” by Abby

 

She is wild;  she is a jungle

She rises in the darkness of the night.

The brightness is the sun in her.

If she had to pick a time, it would be now.

 

“UNTITLED” by Anna Hudek

 

She wants to shout out “stop controlling me.”

But at the same time, she is the evening,

Calm and understanding.  She is the year 2001, hip and spunky.

 

“METAPHOR” by Bubba

 

She is a hilly area,  smooth

But sometimes rough.

If she woke up one day with a tail,

It would be a lion’s, smooth but rough,

Orange, bright, and fiery.

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