I know, I know... "Wait, she's still writing in this thing?" 
I've been horribly remiss in posting here, but I was re-inspired to write more in my hard-copy teaching notebook by a recent CAWP Saturday workshop, and so I have more material to use here. 
Also, now that we're studying poetry in my English 11 classes, I've instituted writing Fridays, and I'm trying to write a poem or two for each prompt as a model for my students. 
I also have a book review or two to post as I've been reading a lot of YA lit recently, so, keep an eye out for those posts soon, I guess, if that's your thing. 
Enough babbling. Here's some poetry. 
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Last week we read "One Art" by Elizabeth Bishop, which is one of my favorite poems. EVER. (Look it up if you don't know it. Please!) In response, I asked the students to write a poem which used a similar trick to hers, using hyperbole and irony to show the reader that everything stated in the poem is actually a lie. "The art of losing isn't hard to master," she says, but we (and she) know better. 
I asked the students to write a poem that included at least five lies about themselves. Some of what they wrote was really fantastic--open and honest (well, you know) and well-crafted, experimenting with rhyme and repetition and form. Success! 
At any rate, here's mine: 
LIAR, LIAR 
I am the perfect daughter-- 
     I never disappoint my parents 
     or disagree with them. 
I am the perfect sister-- 
     I am never selfish or petty 
     or thoughtless of her feelings. 
I am the perfect teacher-- 
     I always have my lessons prepared weeks in advance 
     and I never fall behind on grading papers. 
I am the perfect friend-- 
     I never whine about one friend to another-- 
     and I am the best at keeping in touch. 
I am the perfect writer-- 
     I never run out of ideas 
     or get frustrated when choosing the right words to use. 
I am the perfect liar-- 
     even I believe 
     all the things that I say.
What you want is practice, practice, practice. It doesn’t matter what we we write, so long as we write continually as well as we can. I feel that every time I write a page with real effort, even if it’s thrown into the fire next minute, I am so much further on. - C.S. Lewis
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