Poetry Friday - All Month Birthday Celebrating!

It's Poetry Friday, final week of February, here with Karen Edmisten at The Blog With The Shockingly Clever Title.  Karen is sharing a beautiful poem by Jane Hirshfield that will start your weekend with heart!














             February is Laura Shovan's birthday month celebration. In a group together, for a lot of years, some of us have been writing to a daily prompt. This year, each chose a date and posted a picture connected somehow to "water", our daily inspiration for a poem. As I think everyone would say, it's fun, a challenge, and some poems certainly are better than others to each of us personally. Perhaps it's because the picture really did bring inspiration or a memory from our lives? Perhaps we just wanted to try a new poem form? Laura's even posted a page for us to share a poem form! However the day goes, I've managed a poem for each day, so far. I'm not pleased with all, revision calls! But there are a few that are my favorites. Here are two!
            Thanks, Laura, I hope you've had a marvelous birthday month. This group writing feels like icing on a cake!

This picture, which I don't have permission to share, but think you can imagine a river in winter, banks snow-covered, trees bare, from Ruth Lehrer.

The Prescription

R ancor  (which often sends me reeling)

E ases    (what I have been feeling) 

F ollow   (trails of a river’s path)

L uminous  (sights remove the wrath)

E arth.  (a blessed gift for all)

C alm   (if I only heed the call)

T ransition (occurs when walking free)

I ntimate   (whispering with the trees)

O blation  (gift offered – water born)

N eeded.   (now no more forlorn)

                                           Linda Baie ©

Here is the picture from number two, of Kay McGriff's husband on a river crew. She wrote that her group has collected trash from this river for fifteen years!  

Liege Lord Earth

Not wooing Lady Fairs with sash,

this courageous knight is wooing trash.

Canoe glides o’er his favorite stream,

gathering tires, nightmare, not dream.

His task accomplished, honor soared –

 “Order of the Bath”, a just reward.

Yes, I imagined this short story,

no knights here, but there is glory.

For a cleaner world, we need to fight

all should mimic this good knight.

                                  Linda Baie ©

      I guess you might say I love nature and want to help preserve it! Spring is coming!

Poetry Friday - Windows

        It's Poetry Friday, first week of February, here with Laura Purdie Salas at Writing the World for Kids. She has written a love poem I'm sure will be loved! Thanks, Laura!

          I'm hosting next week on Valentine's Day, sweetest day of the year! Be sure you prepare some sugary love!

          I've been reading a book by Billy Collins that came into the bookstore, one I didn't know titled The Trouble with Poetry and other poems. In one poem, "Monday" he begins with 
                 "The birds are in their trees,
                   the toast is in the toaster,
                   and the poets are at their windows."

          Continuing, Billy Collins speaks of others at their work, like "The clerks are at their desks,/the miners are down in their mines,/and the poets are looking out their windows." You can imagine some of the rest, and you can listen to Billy reading it here! 

           Instead of writing anew, I started reading through some of the poems I've written and realize, in some, though not all, I was looking out my window. Here's a new one, followed by some previously written, "out my window"!

my pine
carries winter's burden-
glad to be limber -
 

Poetry Friday - Naomi Shihab Nye In My Life

           Mary Lee Hahn at A Year of Reading hosting this Friday, her first I believe, of summer break. Thanks, Mary Lee! Enjoy your summer fun!

                 A month ago, Tabatha invited us to join her for a Poetry Friday full of poetry by Naomi Shihab Nye or inspired by her. Not long after, Nye was honored as the new Young People's Poetry Laureate. It is wonderful that we will hear from her all the year ahead, as will teachers all over the country, and now our celebration today from those who are taking this challenge.
            I taught all the years in an independent school for gifted children. My love and commitment was for middle-school-aged children, often having students for three years, but always for two. The final years I spent with all ages as the literacy coach. I loved teaching but realized that many of my students had few opportunities to know about other lives in our country, our world. Naomi Shihab Nye entered my life when I discovered two of her anthologies, This Same Sky and the flag of childhood, poems from the middle east. I no longer have the first one as I passed it on to a young teacher whom I mentored; both  brought lives from others into my students' lives. For that, and so many more books from Naomi Shihab Nye, I am grateful.

       One poem I have used since discovering it is from the book Come With Me, Poems for a Journey, illustrated by Dan Vaccarino. I often had students write oral histories and poems from their discoveries of new lives different from theirs and sometimes a childhood memory. This poem was a start.

Tío Pete

He was old as a basket

and he carried more
than a basket carries.

Where he was going
tasted green and sweet
as the inside of a melon
that sleeps for days
in the sun.

His pants were gray flannel,
and his sturdy heart a stem.
He remembered when the streets
were made of bricks.

For you he brought the fruit of papaya,
the yellow bell of the tree.
For you he brought a worn leash
to link you to your little dog.
No more little dogs for him.

He was old as a basket
and he carried the days
before you were born.

So you opened
     your door
with a hundred
happy arms.

He sat in a chair
          and made

      a different

           country

               there.          

       One final book I would recommend is Salting the Ocean, 100 poems by young poets. This book is filled with unknown child poets from the years of Naomi's school visits, one I used often to show how wonderful it is to write one's own story in poetry. In her forward, these words inspire: "You are making a map of the days you live."

Poetry Friday - A Suitcase of Seaweed

        Jama Rattigan, at Jama's Alphabet Soup, hosts this first Friday in May, filling us with flowers! Thanks, Jama!

I will take a break, sometime, but in my planning for this day, I didn't realize I would be so inspired by Janet Wong's new (old) book, A Suitcase of Seaweed & more. 
       In the beginning, Janet asks: If you were asked to divide your identity into three parts, what would you say? Mom-Dad-You? Child-Friend-Student? Serious-Silly-Silent? How would you like to be seen?
        In this, not really old, but beautifully revised poetry book, Janet has divided it into three parts, the three parts of herself: Korean, Chinese, and American. Each part shares poems accompanied by backstories. And each of those ends with a question for response. Whether I responded in my head, or like today, in poetry, I was inspired. I tried hard to answer Janet's questions and this time, chose cheritas as the form. 


  Janet writes about her parents meeting during the Korean war, father American with his 'crooked smile', mother Korean with her 'long braid', falling in love. She asked if we the readers knew how our parents met.

       My mother's brother introduced my parents when she first went off to college. 

once on a college campus

there was that pretty girl, 
that handsome boy

war was coming, married in May

in one year, he’s off to pilot training, off to war

she’s back home with baby me

             They only had a few years together, sporadic because of the war. My father was shot down in the Pacific Ocean near Leyte in the Philippines. The plane was never recovered.

Poetry Friday - Tuning Up

            Carol Wilcox at Carol's Corner hosts Poetry Friday today with a beautiful poem about daffodils. I just changed my blog picture for spring, imagine that Carol will like it!  Thanks for hosting, Carol. 

             It is an exciting prelude, like that time before a concert when one hears the orchestra tuning up, sometimes called a "Tuning A" when they get in line with the oboe A and others follow. Later, mixed, one can call it a cacophony, sets the heart racing, doesn't it? I am calling to mind that it is nearly April, poetry month when some make poetry goals and write every day, Irene Latham's Progressive Poem calls for 30 poets to create together, Jama Rattigan collects everyone's goals to share, some tag along and write to the goals of others. 
          Extra: Tabatha Yeatts shares a link to poems teachers and librarians can print for poetry month, titled "Poetry in The Halls". I'm grateful to be one of the poets!

             I have fussed with my goal in recent weeks, settling on a book of ideas that I used long ago in the classroom. I haven't used it in a while, think it will be good to return to the words for a personal approach. There are introductions to various ideas along with trying forms, too. Here's my visual, the book's cover, one I'll use starting Monday!

            A group of us have been writing poems for Laura Shovan's late birthday celebration this month in a closed FB group, this year each contributing food picture prompts. Some days I dash off a poem that is not particularly heartfelt, and I can tell, but time pushes me to "be done". Other days, I ponder and mess with the words more, finally getting to a nugget of what feels good. I'm sharing a couple of poems written that I'm rather fond of.

prompt - cookies Molly Hogan

Learning - Not Just for Students

In my first year of teaching,

first grade, thirty plus kids,

run-down neighborhood,

my colleague and I 

and students

held a Christmas pageant.

(This was a long time ago

when schools did this.)

I baked sugar cookies

every day for a week.

With my colleague,

hundreds of cookies

piled up for the big night.

I thought I’d have leftovers

enough to share with friends.

When I stood at the refreshment table,

chatting with the parents,

praising the kids,

I saw more than one

wrap cookies to put into handbags.

It’s when I began bringing snacks

to share every day in class.

It’s when I noticed one boy

wore baby shoes to class.

It’s when I realized that teaching

meant more than reading and writing,

would cost me more than money.

Cookies only solve some of the problems.

Linda Baie ©

Responding To The Eclipse

               We're gathering for Poetry Friday today thanks to our host,  Jone MacCulloch at Check It Out!

         I traveled last week to my brother and sister-in-law's home in mid-Missouri to see the eclipse. My daughter and granddaughters joined us on the weekend. Being on their small farm and then traveling to their antique store in nearby Boonville, Missouri to see the eclipse made it all a wondrous trip. There are words aplenty to describe our experience, but I've chosen only a few in response. This town is by the Missouri River; the bridge walkway was where we viewed the eclipse. FYI - Our totality was about 1:18 pm.

Poetry Friday - Musing About Peacocks

      Thanks to Margaret Simon at Reflections on The Tech for hosting our Poetry Friday this last one in May. Here comes summer!

      My youngest granddaughter and I visit different places each week after I pick her up from school. Sometimes it's a nearby park, at other times, we just return to my home. Lucky for us that I have memberships in our zoo and in the Museum of Nature & Science. Both lie between her school and my home. It's a fun thing to stop in for an hour or two. This time, while we did ride the carousel and did watch some of the primates, mostly we watched the peacocks and new goslings, both parading around the park for their and our enjoyment (and a few crumbs). No, we do not feed them, but there are plenty of dropped crumbs anyway.

the peacock’s tail

flashes iridescence— 

his parade of fireflies

lindabaie©All Rights Reserved

a peacock spreads the tail
creates his own gate —

no welcome here

lindabaie©All Rights Reserved

peacock still life —

heedful of child with pretzel

lindabaie©All Rights Reserved

       Numbers two and three, pictures by me.

photo credit: xpgomes13 UK - London (Holland Park) via photopin (license)

Celebrating A New Book of Poetry

                It's September 12th, and more than a week until autumn officially arrives, but a dust of snow is on the way! No, I'm not going to share a snow poem, but just wanted to share that cooler weather is coming, time for the poems of falling leaves, crisp air, apples, and wool sweaters. And it also means a bit more time for reading poetry!

               Today for Poetry Friday, Renée LaTulippe is our host at her blog, No Water River. Thanks Renée!  While we might be nostalgic for our summers, Renée is sharing her nostalgia for her young boys, starting pre-school for the very first time. Be sure to see how she's written about them!

          Although I do purchase numerous books of poetry, and search used bookstores for them, too, I'm not sure I can ever find all of the books that have been published by J. Patrick Lewis. So when I saw that there was a new book of his that has gathered many of the poems he has written, I knew that was a good one to buy. And it is! 

Time for Clean Slates

          Time for our Tuesday Slice of Life Sharing at theTwo Writing Teachers blog. It's a wonderful place to share. Last night, even more sharing happened on Twitter, at the #TWTBlog chat. Thanks for a great conversation!

          It was quite a day yesterday, one that was cut into tiny, tiny slices;  I'm actually happy it is over. As I said above, I enjoyed the twitter chat from everyone here, but the day itself was filled to the brim. I hoped to write a long post about the first days of school, but it will be brief today, sharing only one thing that became so important to me in the first days of school. 

          While even from the first day, I wanted my class to know that this would be a reading and writing year, even more I wanted them to realize that they were the ones that would be driving the year. I taught a mix of 6th, 7th and 8th graders and many of you know that personal choice is a top priority for all of our students, K through 8. One of the things I did on the first day was to share a poem or a poetic quote to help us leap into the year. I gave each student a copy, they taped it into their writers' notebooks, and then responded to it. In that response, I asked them to make one secret and very personal goal for the year.  Although I never knew what those particular goals were, I would re-visit students once in a while to ask how they were doing with it, and if there was something I could provide that would help reach the goal? Obviously, it involved a lot of trust. There were other times that students created goals that I did know about, but I always felt that trusting that they could work to reach a goal secretly was inspiring and empowering. 

Special Poem From Laura-The Poetry Swap

Poetry Friday, already past the twelfth day of Christmas, moving into cold January.  You can warm yourselves with all things poetic at No Water River, hosted so beautifully by Renee LaTulippe who is celebrating her one year blogging anniversary.  Congratulations Renee, and thanks for hosting.  

           In this past month I moved, as so many of you know.  With the move and the holidays, I  have opened many, many boxes, some in order to survive daily life, and some gifts from various wonderful family and friends.  The very first box received at my new home was from Laura Shovan, of Author Amok, my poetry swap partner.  In it were the sweetest things: some to eat and a hand knit (mostly red-favorite color) pair of fingerless gloves/arm warmers.  They are beautiful, as is the postcard poem that also was included.  My particular card is #1 in a project Laura has started, leading up to her birthday.  I am honored that I received the #1 poem in what I imagine that could be a wonderful book.  In the link, Laura shared the poem, but I'm going to share it again, with photos of the card.  Poems are meant to be shared, often!  

Another Goodbye and A Happy Birthday

Tuesday Slice of Life Posts are hosted by Stacey and Ruth at their Two Writing Teachers blog.  Please join us for a wonder-filled day of reading.  And thank you Ruth and Stacey for special Tuesdays!

     My daughter Sarah's birthday was yesterday, November 12th.  She is quite a special young woman--wife, mother, daughter, friend.  I am always proud of all the things she does, how she acts, what she says about life. I like her and I love her.  
     I am still working on a writing project of goodbye poems that tell stories I remember about my grandchildren and my children.  Here is number nine, dedicated to my daughter.

Praise To The Unsung

Poetry Friday is hosted today by the creative Ed DeCaria at Think Kid, Think!  Every Friday is a pleasure to read each entry.  Come join us at Ed's!

Since our terrible fires last June, I have become so thankful for those who work hard to keep us safe.  Those firefighters worked with less sleep than seems humanly possible, in dangerous conditions, to save homes, the habitats of both humans and animals.  This past week, and just two days ago, storms, rain, and then snow hit the eastern side of our country, and millions lost power, while others lost even more.  

October-The Month of Contradictions

           

                It’s Poetry Friday, the Friday before Halloween, so come along with your gathering of spooky words, if you so wish, or peaceful words that may calm us before the day. 

               It snowed here in the past 48 hours, and if you saw my last post you would have seen Autumn beauty, but alas, the snow has taken it away, hence my title.

           Little Orphant Annie by James Whitcomb Riley is a favorite poem at this spooky time of year, when such words as when the blaze is blue/An' the lamp-wick sputters, an' the wind goes woo-oo! gives me shivers, and I love that they do.  It also brings good memories, of a grandfather who read old classics to me because that is what he loved.  I have shared this poem many times to my classes in the past, and it has inspired their charcoal sketches of what they saw in their mind’s eye. 

             You can hear the poem read here at the Riley Children’s Foundation, presented by a man named Hal Rayle, an American voice actor.

             This is the sweet introduction by Riley to the poem:

               To all the little children: -- The happy ones; and sad ones;

               The sober and the silent ones; the boisterous and glad ones;

               The good ones -- Yes, the good ones, too; and all the lovely bad ones.

Reflection Retreat

  It's an exciting time for our Poetry Friday host, Irene Latham, at Live Your Poem.  Her new book, Don't Feed The Boy came out this past Tuesday!  Congratulations Irene!

    A week ago, my staff drove to the mountains to spent Thursday night and Friday together for our retreat.  This time we had a facilitator that came to lead us in examining our lives particularly in using time more wisely.  Most often, my colleagues have so much to do, and like many teachers and those in other lines of work, like writers, we make our lists too long and our expectations too high.  The first questions asked this day were: How do we order our lives against stress and fatigue? and What are we confessing by how we order our lives?  and How can we negotiate our lives so we can be fully mindful with those we care about? 

View from our family cabin!  There was a small forest fire in the area.  You can see the smoke in the photo.  

A Poet's Words That Touched Me

Our very busy Laura Purdie Salas is hosting Poetry Friday today at her blog, writing the world for kids.  Thanks Laura for what is always a lovely day.  

       Sometimes a poem speaks personally, and I'd like to share one of those today with you.  I have discovered a new poet, at least new to me.  His name is Ben Mirov who has published several full-length poem /books and chapbooks and currently heads the PEN Poetry Series.  I've found that I like some of his other poems too, some also found at the Poets.org page.  His books are full-length poems that I haven't read.   I am wondering what you think of this poem.  It touches me each time I read it. 

        Mirov's poem is titled Black Glass Soliloquy and begins:

          There is nothing in my head today.
          I think about you everyday.
          head full of blckkk glsss

          My head full of bllllk sound.
          I think about you every day.
          I travel in my love for you.

And the rest is at Poets.org.

ocean love - 2011

Beginnings Also Mean Goodbyes

                     Poetry Friday this week is at Dori Reads with Doraine Bennett.  Thanks to her, we are able to enjoy everyone's posts this week.  Thanks for hosting Dori!

I’m still writing goodbye poems for a personal project about different ways of looking at children (mine, others, and grandchildren, too) growing up.  I’ve chosen to do a series of poems at different stages in children’s lives, essentially saying goodbye each time.  I want to put them together in a book with pictures at the particular stage I am describing in the poem.  I love telling stories through poetry, and I love poems of goodbye, so I thought this would be a good way to combine both passions.  Someday I hope to put it all together in a book for my family.   Here is my most recent one, about my grandson Carter.

(7)

From fields of childhood,

hop the fence

and then you will be there,

middle school,

a world of your own.

Always summer there,

with slamming lockers

and clanging bells,

assembly line lunches where

I hope that most of the food

won’t kill you, at least on the days

before tests,

for teachers on whom you must depend

on their own hope for tomorrow.

And for friends, that surround with

crazy words and shoulder slams,

heys for the mornings.

Poetry Friday-Gotta Book Flapping!

       Today’s Poetry Friday is hosted by the Marjorie at Paper Tigers.  Thanks Marjorie!

              I don’t remember when I began reading Greg Pincus’ funny poems on his blog, Gotta Book, but I do know when I started, I didn’t stop.  Every day, Greg starts my day with a blessing, a big laugh.  It is said that laughter is the best medicine, and if that is so true, it is also so true that Greg dispenses promising prescriptions to heal all that ails!

              I love to read poetry, and I work hard with the words to write it, yet I know that my brain is simply not wired the same way as Greg’s.  I wish I could think “fowl” when the words “foul ball” come into my mind.  Instead, I think "baseball", and immediately turn to a problem a child had with batting.  Greg thinks chickens in his poem titled The Fowl Ball, which ends with We laughed and played, a happy group…/And danced until we flew the coop. 

              When I read Mother Goose rhymes to children, we laugh at the sing-song rhymes, but I never think that I could pretend I had anything to do with all the tragedy lying within those rhymes.  Greg has done just that with the sad, sad poem titled Uncle Goose.  He laments in the second verse:  Georgie Porgie kissed the girls,/But I’m the one who dared him./Jack and Jill both tumbled down/’Cause I’m the one who scared ‘em. 

          

           Greg also looks at things differently in his imagination, which sometimes ends with a little bit of sad, like in the poem, The Biking Blues.   This child wanted to go out riding, and says:  Instead, I’m stuck at home because my bike said,/”I’m two tired.”  Even when not the usual big joke, there is the play on words that shows Greg’s funny bone.  I find he wants us readers to look at things from different angles, to understand the importance of being silly, celebrating the little things, and laughing as much as possible.  In the poem Mixed Up, it opens with My fingers sit where you have toes./My elbow’s where you have your nose.  In

Bubble Wrap, Greg writes: Pop!  Pop!  Pop!  Pop!  Snap!  Snap!   Snap!/We just got some bubble wrap!  A final belly laugh happens when one reads Belly Button Blues, with I got no innie, got no outie./Every day it makes me pouty. 

           The wonderful thing about all this is that in April, Greg published an e-book titled The Late Bird that includes all the poems he had previously published on his blog (fifty of them!) plus four brand new ones!  I purchased it immediately and it is now on my IPad and IPhone, where I can access the poems any chance I find.  And it is a treat to read a few at a time, or all in one gulp, which I did the first couple of days.  For example, in the waiting room at a doctor’s office, I now sit quietly waiting for some appointment and bring up Greg’s e-book, relax, and laugh!

           Greg’s bio at the end of the e-book shows he's a very busy guy.  He is a poet, novelist, screenwriter, and blogger.  You can find him sharing children’s poetry (both his own and from special guests) plus children’s literature related goodies at the link above or at http://www.thehappyaccident.net, where he talks social media.  The 14 Fibs of Gregory K.  is coming soon from Arthur A. Levine Books.

             If you haven’t already, go find The Late Bird on Amazon and as Greg writes in the title of his latest post, Keep That Bird Flapping!

              Thank you Greg, for allowing me to review your wonderful poems.  They delight me every day!

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And-please check yesterday’s post if you have time.  It’s about an important book newly out, and a giveaway!  The publisher is promising to send a free copy to the winner chosen randomly from the commenters.