Reading Rants! Out of the Ordinary Teen Booklists!

What it is: A collection of poetry by former and current teens, turned into a book by former ‘zine authors Watson and Todd. Short, (only 25 poems total) but so completely worth checking out, mostly for the amazingly cool/crude illustrations drawn by the eclectic compilers.

What it ain’t: Trite, silly or over-the-top. Yeah, some of this stuff isn’t quite Pulitzer material, but it rings very true to this prior teen, who looks back at her own teen poetry journals and blushes, madly!

Who will like it: Anyone dealing with the trials of adolescence right now, or having teen trauma flashbacks as an adult while lying on a therapist’s sofa.

A Sample: The Pain Tree by Mark Todd/Can’t you feel it?/It hurts so bad!/You can’t?/What’s wrong with you?/How come you can’t feel it?/I don’t believe you./What do you feel?/Nothing!/No pain?/Just nothing, huh?/Well, let me tell you,/You’re missin’ out./It’s wonderful.

What it is: Poems by women of different races and ages, arranged to document the female experience from youth ’til old age.

What it ain’t: Despite the title, this isn’t pro-femi-nazi, man-hating stuff. (Sad to say, some of you still think the word “feminist” means that girls think they’re better than guys, and therefore hate their collective patriarchal guts. NO! It’s all about everyone getting equal pay for equal work–we should ALL be feminists, male or female!) It’s about being a girl and then a woman and all the stuff that is great about it, and, just to make it interesting, all the stuff that stinks about it.

Who will like it: Rrriot grrls who rock out to Tori Amos, Ani DiFranco and Liz Phair, and the boys who love them.

A Sample: Peck’s Bad Boys/Teacher called me a hussy/I told her I just wanted to be one of the guys/Their games more daring, longer-lasting/like an all-day sucker./Not fighting exactly/no back-biting, hair-pulling,/just out-front shin-kicking, punching/wrestling in the dirt/Rolling, maybe laughing/I told her I just liked the contact/all that hard muscle,/all those smells, dust, sweat, warm flesh./ Judi Benson

What it is: A collection of poems by nine masters of the spoken word form who perfected their art in the Brooklyn Moon Cafe and the Nuyorican Poets Cafe here in NYC. A short bio of each of these poets of color is followed by three or four samples of their work. Spoken word poetry kinda defies definition, but it’s a little like a story, a little like a song, and usually has a beat. It can be confrontational, contemplative, both, or neither.

What it ain’t: the Beat poets of the 60’s! There’s still some finger snapping involved, but this modern spoken word is an organic kind of poetry that is still growing and evolving as an art form.

Who will like it: Anyone and everyone who digs the stylins’ and profilins’ of the spoken word form.

A Sample: Excerpt from Jessica Care Moore’s “Black Statue of Liberty”: I stand still above an island, fist straight in the air/Scar on my face, thick braids in my hair/Battle boots tied, red blood in the tears I’ve cried./Tourists fly from all over just to swim near my tide/Or climb up my long flight of stairs./But they trip on their shoe string lies./Piece by piece they shipped my body to this country/Now that I’m here, your people don’t want me./I’m a symbol of freedom, but I’m still not free/I suffer from class, race and gender inequality./

What it is: The cream of the crop of teen-penned poems collected from the terrific New York Public Library and Poets House teen program, Poetry in the Branches. Editor Dave Johnson led poetry workshops where teens could write/read/share their poetic endeavors. Johnson picked these 36 pieces to represent all the good stuff he heard.

What it ain’t: Cheesy! This is sincere, from the heart poetry.

Who will like it: Wanna-be published, currently adolescent poets.

A Sample: Shoes/They’re my old men in rocking chairs,/spitting biographies into the sky./They’re gatherers of stories,/picking up the spit of kings,/the seats of beggars,/and the smell of babies/from crannies in the sidewalks/that glitter like a prostitute’s makeup/when the sun hits right./And the tales of the world,/in elegant calligraphy,/are written on their soles./–Ben Zeitlin

What it is: A collection of poems by many different people (some you may recognize as a famous writer or philosopher) that illustrate the difference (and occasional similarities) between truth and untruth. Editor Patrice Vecchione writes in her introduction, “Poetry is a particular way of telling the truth…Often a poem will say what you know is true but had never heard put into words before.” It’s pretty deep and kind of interesting to read these poems and try and figure out why the editor chose them for this book, and how they all go together. Vecchione was also nice enough to include brief bios about the poets in the back of the book, so if you liked the voice of any particular person, you can dig in and find out where to find more of their works.

What it ain’t: No poetry in here by teens, folks. Just poems by professional and classical writers that adults thought you would like, and that may start your own writing wheels spinning.

Who will like it: Razor-red lipstick wearing Goth girls who sneak copies of Emily Dickinson into their black-light lit bedrooms, and boys who play in serious bands (and I don’t mean Making the Band, gelled-hair poptarts!) who are looking for inspiration for their deep-down, soul searching lyrics.

A Sample: An excerpt from Julia Alvarez’s “from 33″: Sometimes the words are so close I am/more who I am when I’m down on paper/than anywhere else as if my life were/practising for the real me I become/unbuttoned from the anecdotal and /unnecessary and undressed down/to the figure of the poem, line by line,/the real text a child could understand/

What it is: Uncensored, untouched, raw and real poetry by the usually silent half of the teenage population–guys. Editor and mom Betsy Franco decided early on that she wouldn’t try to push these poems into “themes” or “meanings,” but let them speak for themselves. And do they ever! There’s rash, brash, tender and moving poetry here from guys of all ages and from all over.

What it ain’t: Completely G-rated. You may stumble upon a few, umm, maturely themed poems. This may be great, or terrible, depending on your age and point of view!

Who will like it: Guys who swear they hate poetry and can’t understand it, and the girls who love them. <

A Sample: An untitled piece by Marcel Mendoza, age 16: Just because I love darkness/Doesn’t mean I’m depressed/Doesn’t mean I can’t love/Doesn’t mean I’m blind./Just because I love my Mom/Doesn’t mean I’m not a rebel/Doesn’t mean I can’t love others/Doesn’t mean I’m a mama’s boy./Just because I act psycho/Doesn’t mean I need medication/Doesn’t mean I can’t be compassionate/Doesn’t mean I don’t cry./

What it is: A cool conceptual book of poetry that strives to answer the title question. Editor Naomi Shihab Nye chose poems about losing something, be it a real physical thing, or something ephemeral like freedom or innocence. But it’s not all sad and hopeless, some poems talk about the windows that open when the door of loss closes. Strategically placed black and white photos of people of different ages and races studying the camera with hard to read expressions add to the power of this interesting collection.

What it ain’t: Hard to understand. Anyone can relate to what it feels like to lose something. We all have lost something important to us, and it’s usually a moment we never forget.

Who will like it: Just about anyone, but especially crunchy granola girls, sensitive pony-tail guys, and aspiring photographers.

A Sample: Teenagers/One day they disappear/into their rooms./Doors and lips shut/and we become strangers in our own home./I pace the hall, hear whispers,/a code I knew but can’t remember,/mouthed by mouths I taught to speak./Years later the door opens./I see faces I once held,/open as sunflowers in my hands. I see/familiar skin now stretched on long bodies/that move past me/glowing almost like pearls./ –Pat Mora

What it is: Only my most favorite book of poetry EVER! Arnold Adoff rocks–he’s written tons of poetry for children and teens, and it’s always great. But this is his best, IMHO. It’s like he crawled inside your teenage head and spread out it’s contents on a blank page. What kills me is how he KNOWS stuff, man! Stuff you were sure no adult understood, super serious feelings and situations that were SECRET, PRIVATE. Somehow, he gets it right and it’s like he’s in the teen tribe again, even though he’s a grown-up. And I hope I become just like him!

What it ain’t: stupid or condescending. It’s not some old writer trying to write about what he THINKS teens are like. It’s a sensitive writer who knows his audience and his limitations. It’s just perfect.

Who will like it: Secret journal scribblers and that quiet kid who sits in the back of the class and never talks.

A Sample: “Now”/This time/from trolls to tampax/says it all.