There isn't much that escapes Brad Yoder's attention, from the odd, overheard phrase ("the rain can stay the way it is, it's just fine") to the little absurdities of life and language.

"I love the everyday image that hasn't been used, something that's new, that's fresh, that you haven't made that connection before and yet you know exactly what they mean," he said.

If Mr. Yoder tends to wax poetic, well, that's understandable. His income tax statement lists him as "musician" but he is equal parts that, and poet.

When he isn't coordinating tutoring services for the East End Cooperative Ministry, he's writing and performing. And last week, he helped students at Bethel Park High School see the world through new eyes.

The joy of turning what's around you into something new, he said, "is a part of what I'm trying to pass along to these folks: the stuff of your life as raw materials to be creative."

Which is why senior Alyssa Yukevich was reciting a tale of heartbreak and frustration: a poem about shopping for canned pineapple at 1 a.m.

"I was bored at work, I was thinking about pineapple. ... I swear, I'm not obsessed; it's just really good," she said as the other eight students sitting around the tables laughed.

The culmination of the weeklong workshops was a Friday-morning poetry cafe at the high school, where students performed their readings and songs in an open mic setting.

It wasn't quite a coffee shop -- no coffee allowed in the building -- but there were refreshments and baked goods for sale.

All of the high school English classes were invited to spend time at the cafe, with the performers --roughly two dozen students who submitted essays describing why they wanted to take the course -- presenting their songs and poems several times throughout the morning.

A surprising number were accomplished musicians. Sophomore Zach Brendza riffed on his acoustic guitar as Jess Palamara, a senior wearing orange-striped Chucks with green laces, sang an original song, "Walter Square."

The last lines -- "Me, I've never been more conscious, even the bricks beneath my shoes are honest" -- was the sort of inspired imagery Mr. Yoder had hoped to coax from the students.

Sophomore Joe Krafczynski, hair swinging into his face as he leaned over his guitar, did a great bluesy story of a guy who dumps his tall girlfriend ("My little lady's just way too tall, her head's always up in the clouds") for someone shorter.

Another funny hit with the crowd was sophomore Robert Amrhein's ode to the Snack Pack, those individually wrapped servings of pudding found in every lunchroom in America.

"I took you home, and my fire was lit ... hey baby! My Snack Pack baby. ..."

But there was quiet reflection as well. Sophomore Lauren Rozman sang about former classmate Pierce Anderson ("sometimes I can't believe you're gone"), who died in February from an accidental drug overdose.

Charles Youngs, head of the school English department, followed with a poem about Pierce.

Some of the works were about the mundane -- work in a mall food court -- and the surprising -- a smart kid sitting in math class is doing Origami -- and then, of course, there was that poem about canned pineapple.

In "The Grocery Store Isn't Big Enough for the Two of Us," Alyssa observes:

"And the only other person in the whole freaking store

Is in my aisle

In the way of the canned pineapple that I really want

I know what you're thinking

That I should just whisper and ask politely to please move, thank you so much

But I can't even do that since she's got her Bluetooth thing in her ear."

Putting words to music is ancient, but it seemed like a fairly new concept in the classroom setting. Three days earlier, when Mr. Yoder conducted one of the classes, he brought some audio aids: a couple of guitars and five electronic keyboards.

Perched on the edge of a chair, wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt and navy watchman's cap, Mr. Yoder broke into little bits of song while offering words of advice and encouragement.

Many students were also musicians who already were trying to put words to song, but a number were just writers encouraged to work with the musicians to see what a collaboration might bring.

The workshops were at the suggestion of Mr. Youngs.

"Mr. Youngs had heard me play at a couple of places and was struck by the craft of the words, and I've always loved the words," said Mr. Yoder.

Although Mr. Yoder performs at other school assemblies, the Bethel Park sessions are unusual, he said. He did a similar workshop there last year.

Finding a spark in the everyday, he said, "is a two-way street because you observe something about your life and do something creative with it, and in turn, it comes back and colors what you see."

One big challenge was to convince the students that art, in any form, need not be "formal."

" ... Oftentimes, especially with a young person, when they do go back to everyday language, you hear their voice more."