Saturday, March 8, 2014

Flashback

In sixth grade, my English teacher really encouraged creative writing and always gave extra credit poetry assignments, which I took advantage of.  And recently, I came across some of my old poetry from they class.  Before re-reading some of the old work, I braced myself expecting the worst, but I was astounded at how well written and deep my work actually was.  I would have never thought a ten/eleven year old would be able to create something so substantial.  My teacher gave us the freedom to explore writing however we wanted, and it showed in my work.  However, throughout the next few years the curriculum was strictly essay based and I didn't have that poetry outlet because I never really thought about writing on my own.  During those years, my life was a little messy and I truly did need something to release my feelings since talking about my issues seemed out of the question.  I didn't know how to deal with my feelings or with everything that was happening.  Throughout the beginning years of high school I began to write again and many answers to my questions became clear.  I finally had a sense of what I wanted towards the end of the year.  Whenever I came across an obstacle, I would grab a piece of paper and a pen and everything would feel a little bit better after.  If I would have had the encouragement throughout seventh and eighth grade to write my feelings than things might have been easier for me.  I'm not saying that writing is everybody's outlet, but I believe that kids should be pushed to find some type of release, whether it be writing, drawing, making music, running, etc.  That's going to be the premise of my speech...the fact that kids need to be taught that life isn't always going to be easy and that's normal.  What isn't normal or healthy is bottling your feelings and never talking about the past.  The past doesn't define you, but your reactions to the past do.  

Anyways, I'd like to share some of my work that eleven year old Jen composed:


Tears begin as lost love. Love being ripped apart or love
Eluding into darkness, disappearing forever.  Crying
As your loved one tears apart from you or as they hit everlasting unconsciousness.  
Rushing to the hospital, your eyes are filled with salty teardrops. Bawling your eyes out over an emotional movie or sobbing over a heart wrenching book.  With love comes
Death.  With death comes lost love.  With lost love comes a tear, 
Rushing down your cheek, burning your lips, as it rolls down your face.  As your
Only child is being diagnosed with a life threatening disease, your
Papa’s heart finally fails, or your frail pet gets hit by a car it’s natural to cry 
Salty tears all over again.


Crowded With Waves

Overflowing waves crash against sharp rocks
My head pounding with music
Day after Day

Thoughts flooding thorugh the ocean
Leaving me in an epic battle of waves
All alone

Dolphins dive deep to hard ocean floors
I dive deep into icy cold thoughts
Numbing my body

Flowing foamy water splashes
My calm nature bursts into crazy spastic essence
Within seconds

Waves grow weary as the sun sets 
My mind is working over time
All the time
Crowded with waves

2 comments:

  1. Jen, love the concept for you speech! What a great topic - personal, real, and helpful!

    Eleven-year-old Jen's poetry is just as creative as current Jen's poetry! hahah It's funny - I found I was more creative when I was younger as well! The trick is we have to hold onto that creativity, right?!

    Do you read poetry for fun/inspiration? If so, which poets do you like? One of my friends writes poetry, so I will have to ask her for some suggestions for you!

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    1. Yes, I find that it's hard to hold onto the creativity that we possess as children! I'm trying to find that spark of creativeness and incorporate it more into my poetry. As for reading poetry, I really don' t do this as much as I should but I would love to ready your friend's work and I would definitely check out any suggestions she has!

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