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No Country for Old Poets

[A Dispatch from the Youth Poetry Workshop, Recently Completed after an Intense 4-Week Campaign]

Lighthouse is lucky, blessed even, by the plain truth that if the grown-ups were ever to get abducted, en-masse, to serve the insatiable literary appetites of our insectile alien overlords, we would be covered. We have an excellent bench.

These kids (I’m talking about kids here) make up the elite task force known as the Lighthouse Youth Program, so amiably marshaled by Gen. M. Nix.

It was my recent dream assignment to be handed the reins of the 4-week youth poetry class/workshop.

Now, before any of you panic, conjure visions of a stagecoach full of school kids being driven recklessly around hairpin turns somewhere high up on Goofball Pass, know this: the serious hardened writers, ages from “before middle school” to “after middle school,” who greeted me around the table that first Thursday led me to understand post-haste that they were not going to put up with any of my usual BS.

So it was back to basics, of sorts, as we talked pretty much only about three poetry subjects, for four Thursdays in a row. We talked about rhyme. We talked about metaphors. And we talked—because, ha-ha I snuck it in—about making lists.

The elements of this discussion included:

  • readings and recitations from published poets (guess which book I read from the most…)
  • writing exercises whose rules were often well-flouted
  • several rounds of the great card-game “Set”
  • an unfortunate incident involving a Dymo Labelmaker
  • and the invention of a metaphor-making machine.

The results, including some exceptional Spoonserian stanzas, will hopefully be seen in upcoming blog entries or Lighthouse printed materials.

Thanks to all the kids who took place in the class. My hat—and I am wearing a hat—is off to you.

J Diego

About jdiegofrey

2 comments on “No Country for Old Poets

  1. megnix
    March 22, 2011

    Blessed is right! These kids could take over the world. And maybe they will.

    Am I allowed to post a poem by one of them as a comment? I’m going to do it. Here’s one of the gems from your class, JD.

    Tiresome Perplexities
    by Aubin Fefley

    One million onions can be
    Compared to, of all things
    Shoes. But for babies.
    Quite pointless, the bell tolls. Doesn’t ring.
    Sometimes it’s hard to even begin
    To think why an infant would ever need shoes
    “Ten to the sixth power onions!” they sing
    They came to the funeral. Paid all their dues.
    If you followed this through, then it’s true I’m confused.

  2. andreadupree
    March 23, 2011

    Ooh, love that Aubin Fefley. Just the other day she was tiny.

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This entry was posted on March 17, 2011 by in Writing.

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