Sunny Hills High School

Poetry in motion: How a unique interest created a safe place of expression

What if we could go back, to the moment that we failed

What if we could pick up slack for the relationship we derailed

What if time was irrelevant, and we could bend it to our will

Even though our conflict was always prevalent, just know I will forever love you still.

 

Rain or shine, I will always come knocking

To the door of your heart, time is tick-tocking

Don’t waste away, fight those who are mocking

Final date, wedding day: just dream of lip-locking.

 

This poem was something I created when I felt a little down, something teenagers refer to as “simping.” A combination of school, friends and my non-existent love life contributed to these thoughts, to the point where I (very timidly, of course) crafted this as a method to cope with the stress I dealt with.

Ultimately, the main purpose of composing this little rhyme was to inspire me and to stir my emotions to the point of action. However, in the world where instant communication reigns as king, it seems as if the only methodical reading of poetry done by high schoolers remains in their English classes. Essentially, it seems as if students have a one-dimensional focus on completing the analysis for a grade.

Seldom are those assigned poems consumed out of intrigue or even enjoyment; rather, the strong emphasis on nightly reading creates a dislike for the genre and a blockage of creative flow. Even as a 16-year-old teenage male, I feel out of the loop when contemplating my life events. I know people think I like to write poems as a natural response to joy or sorrow, and their reactions are usually mixed.

As a member of a family who emphasizes communication, I am constantly encouraged to share and discuss my feelings openly as I see fit. “Open expression,” we say, “is the greatest way to understand and resolve any ‘situation’ that you’re in.” For me, this outlet of processing takes the form of writing; more specifically, forming short pieces based on how I feel in the moment. There is no set “formula” to writing, especially when considering niche. After all, ideas can spring out of nowhere. To me, poetry works better later in the night; my creative rhythm runs freely in the later hours of the evening.  

In the heart of this process, there is something beautiful about how putting a pen to paper—or in my case, fingers to screen—calms a storm of a day: it’s like resting in the eye of a hurricane, serene and still. Even something simple as noting influential and important events that occur symbolizes a shift in perspective of emotion. No longer is that sentiment trapped within, cycling between a transparent feeling or a solidified sensation.

There is a genuine possibility that is the very reason why journalists exist. They exist to discover, renew and cement the validity of the murky subjects that people toss in the midst of their indecision. In doing so, however, journalists experience countless rejections, criticism and scorn. In order to cope with this negativity, there has to be a way to recuperate.

I encourage anyone who discovers this avenue of comfort to take the next step: poetry remains as a simple solution to convey the deepest reflection. As cheesy as it sounds, there is nothing to hold back. Relinquish your hold on anything “weird” that may seem out of the ordinary, for it can lead to endless forms of rejoice and expression. Dive deep into the relationships where life can create a surreal love for something new. Reject the traditional “five paragraph essay.” Pour out those intricate memories that tug at the heart: trials, relief, love stories and moments of bliss can all be turned into something poetic in their own unique way. Don’t keep it bottled up inside. Keep writing.

 

Rhythm or flow, aspire to rhyme,

Always explore, keep fighting for time.

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