Tell Me without Telling Me

Tell Me without Telling Me with Scott McCloskey

Welcome to Day 8 of Verselove. We are so happy you are here, however you choose to be present. If you know what to do, carry on; if you are not sure, begin by reading the inspiration and mentor poem, then scroll to the comment section to post your poem. Please respond to at least three other poets in celebration of words, phrases, ideas, and craft that speak to you. All educators – authors, librarians, teachers, teacher educators, coaches, consultants, preservice, retired–are welcome. It’s free. No commitment is needed. Please invite a teacher-friend to join you one or more days because poetry heals. Click here for more information on the Verselove. Click here for the PD tracker if you’d like PD credits.

Hi, folks.  That’s me in the picture.  No, not Baby Yoda, the other one.  I’m always at a loss for what to write for these “dust jacket bios.”  Paul Reiser – remember him? – once wrote one for his first book that went something like this: Although, this is my first book, I’ve read lots of others.  I just don’t want to make a big deal out of it.  I sometimes feel that way about my “contribution” to poetry.  [I’m Scott McCloskey, by the way: a high school English teacher (26 yrs.) and a college adjunct professor (20 yrs.) from Michigan.]

Inspiration

A few years ago, the “tell me without telling me” meme was making its rounds around social media, and I thought it could be fun to “poem-ify” it.

Process

According to stayhipp.com, this meme “ask[s] people to share that they match a set of criteria or are part of a group without explicitly stating it.”  Now, I know, the opposite of hip is to quote from a website named stayhipp (with two p’s), but their description is spot-on.  That’s what the meme is, and that’s what we should try to do in today’s poem.  Tell us (through vivid sensory details and whatnot) that you are __________ without telling us you are __________.   At its core, perhaps, this prompt is about “identity.”  With whom (or with what) do you align yourself?  What are the “quirky characteristics” of that group?

A quick TikTok search produced these topics:

Tell me you’re a middle child without telling me you’re a middle child.

Tell me you watch _________ without telling me you watch __________.

Tell me you have strict parents without…

Tell me you struggle with curly hair without ….

Tell me you’re a dog owner without …

Tell me you’re single without …

Tell me you’re a teacher without …

Tell me you’re a student without …

You see?  This could, literally, and, of course, figuratively, be about anything.  It could be about your birth order, your relationship “status,” your hobbies, the relationship status of your hobbies, etc.  The sky’s the limit, really.

I’ll start.

Scott’s Poem

After careful consideration
and quiet contemplation,
I do concede that, yes,
there are, probably,
thirteen ways
of looking at a blackbird,
and now that I think about it,
hope is, indeed, a thing
with feathers,
the best way out is through,
and, I do, it seems, spend
a considerable amount
of time and energy
cultivating my imaginary garden
(the one with the real toads).

I measure my shoe size
in dactyls and my heart
beats in iambs.

I know that it takes an
inordinate amount of time
to compose a text message
because words matter
and so does punctuation.
Period.

I know that “ruminate”
has a space, a width and
breadth, allowing me
to contemplate more
than, say, cogitate,
but I also am well aware
that “ponder” and “brood”
have their places, too.

I know that I can have
a tendency, a tenacity
you could say, to
contradict myself
(I contain multitudes,
after all.), and while
I’d like to tell the truth
(I’d tell it slant, no doubt)
I wouldn’t consider
myself one, normally,
more poet adjacent if
anything, but I’ve found,
currently, certainly,
that the world is too much
with us, and I find that
I must capitulate a bit
and admit that I find myself
weeping more these
days than in the before
times, and it’s very telling
when even joy, however
very occasionally it appears,
brings you to tears.

[Tell me you’re a poet without telling me you’re a poet.]

Your Turn

Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may use only your first name or initials depending on your privacy preferences.) Not ready? That’s okay. Read the poems already posted for more inspiration. Ponder your own throughout the day. Return later. And, if the prompt does not work for you, that is fine. All writing is welcome. Just write something. Oh, and a note about drafting: Since we are writing in short bursts, we all understand (and even welcome) the typos and partial poems that remind us we are human and that writing is always becoming.

Respond to 3

Respond to 3 teachers today in the spirit of reciprocity. Writing educator Peter Elbow said, “To improve your writing you don’t need advice about what changes to make; you don’t need theories of what is good and bad writing. You need movies of people’s minds while they read your words” (Writing Without Teachers, 1973, p. 77). Please offer a mirror to our writers by sharing what you noticed, what moved you, and what you learned. Responding to one another is a way of saying “I see you” and “thank you for writing” and “I carry your words.” Here are a few sentence stems that may be helpful for you and your students.