Wednesday, September 13, 2017

mall poems and other kinds in early september.

our time at the coventry mall in pottstown, chester county, in our last traveling poetry class led to some interesting conversations and observations. the mall and shopping cultures have really taken on some shifts and revivals in recent years.

although we ended up going over some non-mall poetry after a first poem, and that's quite okay and a welcome thing sometimes during class. 

it was curious to see how the mall has changed in recent decades, especially since i don't go shopping often. so many shops have changed out, but not all of them. a salad place is there, but the same long-lived penn steak & fries and corrado's pizza are still mainstays. since we camped out in the food court, that's where our focus played.

after the first poem below, pulled from the interwebs, the rest are scoops of eye-scenes by my student janice meindl from her time in a creative writing class she took at RACC in recent years, and the instructor had told her she ought to dive into poetry. this is what led her to hunt for a class like what i teach, and we're very grateful for the spirit of janice's words and demeanor as another voice in our get-togethers.


Saturday, September 2, 2017

traveling poetry classes in september 2017 at the coventry mall & the boyertown area community library.

september's traveling poetry classes will involve people-watching at the coventry mall and then library moments thanks to study rooms now available at the boyertown community library since it relocated to a larger and more historic building last month.

and we'll be meeting during evenings in case that is more helpful for some people than our usual sunday afternoon get-togethers. it's also just to try something new.

next classes–

when: wednesday, september 6 @ 6.30 p.m. & monday, september 18 at 6.30 p.m.

for september 6, the coventry mall's food court, at 351 west schuylkill road, pottstown, pa 19465; for september 18, the new location of the boyertown community library at 24 north reading avenue, boyertown, pa 19512

optional themes of focus:

  • wednesday, september 6– mall poems
  • monday, september 18– library poems

at either class, any other subject is always welcome for the sharing, including other variations of creative writing, too. we pick out the poetry in whatever we read and hear. bringing a few copies of your writings to share is helpful so everyone can read them or share. but just having your original copy to read from is okay, too.

(not relevant here but good to know for future classes
if we ever have oddly inconvenient weather before or during set outdoor classes, i will update those who RSVPed to classes in advance to let them know if we are canceling, rescheduling, or relocating to some place indoors.)

cost: $20 per student, per class (we usually meet for 2 hours or more)

if you have any questions, feel free to reach out to me at poetrywithjenniferhetrick at yahoo dot com.

and if you know anyone who may be interested in our class, feel free to share this blog content onward.

also, if there is anyone who may want to join our class but lives in another area across berks, chester, and montgomery counties, we sometimes travel to a good variety of different places, so let us know, and we can see about planning classes closer to you.

petunia poems and muddy kinds in late august.

in my traveling poetry class at the end of august, we met where we often do throughout warmer seasons, along a semi-hidden bank along the schuylkill river in pottstown. and semi-hidden in this case means from the schuylkill river trail, not the water itself.

i wrote a poem for a scene not captured by camera, something which happened at the end of class as we were making our way back to the parking lot. its proverbial gist and skeleton in words are below.


i write you in case the others don’t

it is a poem as sam slides one
boot down mud giving way
to barbara's crocs, her hip

meeting the wet of what rain
left behind, hands locked
across the three of us as

we link to even footing
after leaving the river.
we travel for poetry, but

we keep moving, parting
to get away from the tiny hill
pulling the natural world's

prank on us, or not joking
but just documenting that
we're meant to fall down

once in a while, to make
sure we are more humble
than not, as the walking

poems we are, stanzas
hugging homes behind
our bones—lines, lines.