Tim Cheeseman

April is National Poetry Month

The first word you think of when you think of Lima is probably not poetry, but perhaps it should be.

Up and coming coffee shops are holding monthly poetry slams and readings sponsored by the local poetry writing group. The city’s poet laureate offers weekly poetry workshops and office hours for anyone who wants to attend and is connecting Ohio State Lima with up-and-coming artists.

Yes, you read that right. Lima has its own poet laureate and he is a familiar face at Ohio State Lima.

Lima’s poet laureate is Timothy Cheeseman, aka the director of the Heath Learning Center. Throughout his careers in both teaching and the mental health profession, Cheeseman has used poetry to help himself and others express themselves.

“Poetry is a universal method to express and experience the world, to bond ourselves with the world that we live in and the people in it,” Cheeseman said. “It is a shared vision and it is fun. It is a joyful, exciting adventure.”

Cheeseman was named the inaugural poet laureate after his former high school students saw the call for nominations on social media.

“After 25 years at Shawnee, my students are all over the place so a couple of them contacted me and said, ‘Hey we saw this that Lima was looking for their first poet laureate and we are going to nominate you,’” Cheeseman said. “It was very sweet and touching and I appreciated it enormously.”

Since he started as poet laureate, Cheeseman has largely been working with adults and young adults to grow and cultivate their interests in poetry. He is now also turning his attention to the poets and artists now in high school, a group he worked with as a teacher of English and theatre for 22 years.

Cheeseman is also laying the groundwork to bring back the creativity recognition program he encouraged his high school students to participate in every year Ohio State Lima offered the Buckeye Creativity Awards program. The imagination and inspiration is there and he wants to give the students as many creative outlets as he can.

“I think every English teacher in the world would attest to the fact that 90% of our students write on their own,” Cheeseman said. “We also live in a time where there are unique and vibrant avenues for poetry. There is this vibrant culture on YouTube, TikTok, Instagram and Snap Chat for poetry and poetic voices that are unique and new, and exciting. I think that we should be excited about it and encourage it as well.”

In many ways, Cheeseman has approached being poet laureate much as he would being a coach or mentor to Lima’s creative writing community. He goes to readings, encourages writing and provides feedback.

He holds his weekly poetry workshop and office hours at ArtSpace/Lima. Anyone who wants to work on their poetry is welcome to attend.

“We all have a poetic voice. We should all feel comfortable exercising and sharing it,” Cheeseman said. “Others should feel comfortable embracing people's poetic voices and the folklore of that.”

As part of his embrace of the poetic voices, Cheeseman is developing a book of Lima voices that will be published in conjunction with the City of Lima and ArtSpace/Lima and will include both contemporary and historic voices of the community. Cheeseman is making a concerted effort to include those voices that may have been marginalized in the past from both the communities of color and the substantial number of incarcerated individuals residing in area prisons.

“This is an opportunity to get an effective, successful, representative piece of poetic voice from the city and culture of Lima,” Cheeseman said. “And it is an opportunity to have that be inclusive in a community that demands and deserves that.”

A Poet’s Note to his Fiancée

I saw the man today
you might leave me for.
He stepped down
from a paving machine
that was blocking traffic on Route 23.
I was locked in a line of cars
and hulking tractor trailers;
he grabbed a red thermos,
gulped water that heaved
from the sides of his thin mouth
and doused a range of shoulders
that strained a green t-shirt.

He had the subtle muscle
that comes from work.
Just the lean strength that softens
to the pure comfort of something finished.
His blond hair was scooped
back from his forehead, held
in place with sweat. Smoke curled
around his brown boots; the tar
bubbled and rolled away
from his broad stance. He looked
up at the sky, seemed to think
simply, “ The sky is blue. I am
thirsty.” Glancing back at his work,
a taut ribbon stretching away
from my motionless car, he shifted
his weight. Bronze wheat bowed
behind him in a breeze that instantly
dried his brow, stripped pitch
flecks from his tight cheek.

His eyes were bluer than mine,
crystallized by the sun and held
there by the endless, hot asphalt;
not light like mine, like the florescence
that buzzes over my university desk
in the bookish dark, while I stare
and fret over impossible phrases.
I saw his hand cupped
under your shy jaw, his perfect
thumb wiping at your pale
freckles as if they were tears.
There were no questions
in his furrowed gaze; he said
without speaking: “ My search
is over. Who needs poetry.”

By Timothy Cheeseman
originally appeared in Facets Literary Magazine—MIT, May 2002