Posted in Poetry

Italian Sonnet on Cool Hair

A little background on today’s poem:  I teach high school seniors.  There is one junior in my class this year; he is a high-achieving kiddo who is taking Senior English Honors.  He entered class today with a new hairstyle and I complimented him on it.  Another student asked me if I could write a sonnet about Jacob’s hair (we are in a sonnet unit at the moment) and my response was, “English or Italian?”  They voted for Italian and I wrote the following during their class period.  Jacob read it to the class and I earned extra credit for rhyming ‘says’ 3 times!  (note: the student’s name has been changed for privacy’s sake.)

The seniors have an attitude that says
They possess this school, the world is their own
Yet on and on they all complain and drone
But one is destined to become our prez.

This student does not wear a hat nor fez
Unlike all others, no one dares to clone
Him for he is the coolest all alone
He owns this hemisphere, north of Juarez

The thing that keeps him in the spotlight rare
Is only that which grows within his head
Brain power that all others care to dread
But more than that are plaits beyond compare
For this one junior rides a higher plane
Jacob has hair that drives them all insane.

© Jilly’s All Rights Reserved

Day 2

Posted in Poetry

The Teacher Groove

five a.m. feet hit the floor
jazz is playin’
dog-walkin’
coffee drinkin’
face kissin’
out the door

seven a.m. kids at my door
Chaucer verse plyin’
sarcasm flyin’
student buy-in
bell is vyin’
our time is high an’
dry and they’re
out the door

all morning long
they’s readin’
they’s writin’
they’s commentin’
“This Pardoner dude
is a real duche bag”
Couldn’a said it better
mysef

full tilt groovin’
I is behoovin’
students improvin’
never stop movin’

three p.m. hittin’ the car
radio’s soundin’
homeward I’s cruisin’
front door is speakin’

and just like that it’s

zu

zu

zu

zu

zu

Game Over!

© Written & Spoken Words by Jilly  All Rights Reserved

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Posted in Poetry

‘Summer Tempo’ in 4/4 Time

I wrote this on Monday morning when I realized that there are only 3 weeks (3!!) remaining until I pack up my school bag and head back to work.  There is too much jazz left for summer to end this soon.  

i.

Kids go out the door
no tears for them
deny mine
Maynarding
screaming
flying full bore
into the endless arms of June
Prestissimo

ii.

Dizzying spin of days
nights of laughter
love sangria on ice
dancing on the sand
in the kitchen
Vivace
iii.

Fiery dynamite bright
lights the celebratory way
easing into a Blanchard
groove steady days stretch
fore and aft jazzing the sway

Bridge

iv.

No denying the entrance
Chet-smooth ignoring
truth that months become
weeks a subtle blues works
its way peripherally
into the score
Rallentando

v.

Mere Miles
to go a muted question
lingers in the cool
ignoring the answer
So What am I to do
with these remaining days
Adagio

 

© Jilly’s All Rights Reserved

Posted in Poetry

Going Live

“Write out of the overflow of your life.”

~ Brian Miller

Leaving
What was once called
My Ideal Job

Returning
To what I loved before

Six twenty-fives
Chasing paperless paper

The journey
The students
The river
Lives floating through
Carried by the tide
And then they are gone
Replaced by new

The overflow
The overflow

© Jilly’s 2016

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